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angel-eyes05 · 2 years ago

Text

to leave the warmest bed i've ever known

pairing: spiderwoman!reader x miguel o’hara

summary: after miguel’s fight with miles, you confront him in his office

warnings: this whole thing is basically one big argument there’s SO much angst, implied suicide attempt, HUGE ATSV SPOILERS DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN THIS MOVIE, im projecting a little in some parts of this ngl (i cried writing a certain section of this, you'll know it when you read it lmao), mentions and descriptions of blood, gore, and death

word count: 4.1k

notes: i watched the movie yesterday…and miguel is on my mind. but i remember reading this namor x reader fanfic after i watched wakanda forever of a similar idea to this and i loved it so this is HEAVILY inspired by that fic, but just make it miguel. i would link it but ngl that was so long ago and i dont remember the author. if i end up finding it again ill put it here. also, just pretend miguel has been doing this whole spider society thing for a couple of years at least, it just needs to work like that for this ik its probably not canon but just roll with it lmao. and yes the title is a taylor swift lyric im so glad you noticed (im so sorry she's in my brain rn with the eras tour)

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The anger boiled up inside your chest as you stormed your way across the lobby. Hundreds of different Spider-Man variants were scattered across the area, some more injured than the others. It sickened you sometimes. How he had so many people under his grasp and just decided to throw some of them at the walls sometimes, not caring how hard they hit the floor because they were all just ammo to him. How despite his denials of it, that’s probably what your role was to him as well. Nothing more than a bullet in his massive machine gun.

You normally tried not to think about it, how his determination towards his goal sometimes meant lack of care for others. But this time he had just gone too far. You always had a soft spot for Miles, watching closely on him whenever Miguel would let you go though scanners of all the different variants. You admired his struggle, but eventual success to taking up the previous Peter’s mantle, and always hated how Miguel talked about him. You knew there was no way Miles could’ve asked for any of this. For the pressures and struggles of being a Spider-Man, for everything causing such a strained relationship with his parents, for the death of his uncle, and for what will be the eventual death of his father. You definitely didn’t.

Ok lets do this one last time. Eh, whatever, there’s probably gonna be 50 other introductions after this one so it doesn’t really matter.

Being Earth-837’s Spider-Man has never been easy. Especially since you were bit when you were only 13 (another reason you sympathized with Miles and Gwen). Your life had followed the order of canon events to a perfect T, your older brother killed in a fight with a robber only two months after you were bit. You tried to overcome the burden of your powers by trying to live as normal of a teenage life as possible, but it was mostly in vain, having to give up multiple friendships and relationships in fear of those you love getting hurt. This was only elevated when your boyfriend Peter was murdered in the crossfire of an encounter with Doc Ock. You didn’t understand. You couldn’t. What you had done to deserve all of this. All you did was just be in the wrong place at the wrong time. You wonder sometimes what would happen if someone was in the same place you were when you got bit. If someone else went to the closed down area of that museum and ran into that spider. That stupid spider that ruined your life. Those thoughts slowly started to disappear for a bit. For a few years things were easy. Things seemed like they were finally going in your favor.

You were 25 when it happened. The last canon event. Ever since you were a little girl you hated your mother’s job. Losing nights of sleep over if she would come home or not. She always did though. She was good at her job. Too good though. Good enough to get promoted to police captain, which for who you were, was basically sealing her fate. She saved so many people that day. You were too busy fighting Venom to notice how much collateral damage you were causing in the process. Your mother’s job was to evacuate all the citizens away from the fight. She died shielding a child from incoming debris. A noble way to go. But god was it gruesome. You found her after the fight was over, two metal poles impaling her. One through her stomach and one straight through her face, pools of blood growing bigger below her as she was left there, all the paramedics busy trying to save the heavily injured. You froze when you finally recognized her, unable to at first due to how mutilated her face was from the pole. Suddenly, you were transported back to being a six year old, falling asleep outside the door to your mother’s bedroom so you would know exactly when she would come home. Purposefully falling asleep in her arms so that she couldn’t go anywhere.

When you used the key she had given you to get into her apartment that night, and you slept in her room, desperate to intake anything left of her before she was fully gone. You doused yourself in her perfume so it still felt like she was standing right behind you. You had always loved her smell. The smell of vanilla, curl product, and fancy perfume. They were attached to memories you had of her. Trying on her heels when you were a kid to try and be fancy like her. Smelling her hair in the morning before school to comfort you before she left for work. Despite all of this bringing you comfort, all it really did was cause further denial in your heart. That one day you were gonna hear the keys clacking in the keyhole to your apartment one more time. That’s all you really wanted. You would give everything up in a heartbeat just to hear her police scanner go off one last time. But it wasn’t going to. And it was your fault. Deep down you knew it was. You should’ve done a better job controlling the debris. You had always been a messy fighter, but you didn’t know it was going to mean anything until it was too late.

How you got up to the top of that building is still a blur to you to this day. But next thing you know, you were looking at the New York City skyline from the very top of the Empire State Building. And at the very edge too. You heard some sounds behind you, but you just decided it was the wind howling from how high up you were. You were just so tired. Everything and everyone you loved was cursed all because of you. And with your mother as the most recent victim, you decided you finally had enough. You took a deep breath, eyes overflowed with water, as you set your foot forward.

Your plummet was interrupted by a sudden contact you felt to your forearm. Shock filled your body as you turned around to look at what had stopped your attempt. The blue hand was massive, nearly wrapping back around onto itself as it held onto you for dear life. You finally looked up at face that the hand belonged to. The mask that covered the massive figure was a strange one. Blue with strange red silhouettes for the eyes. It kind of reminded you of…your own costume? That couldn’t be though there was no way. This must be the afterlife or something. You already jumped and that's why you didn’t remember your way up to the top. This was some kind of creature trying to stop you from jumping down to hell below. His breaths were heavy and loud, almost like he was desperate to stop you. This convinced you that this was real, which caused you to try to escape from his grip. He was stronger than you, and was putting up a huge fight. You were slick though. Once you were out of his hand, you closed your eyes and quickly made your jump. Everything flashed before your eyes. Your brother, Peter, your mom. You were hoping to see them soon. This was very quickly interrupted again when you suddenly stopped falling. Something had attached itself to your stomach. You opened your eyes. A web? This web was much different than yours though. It was glowing a bright, neon orange.

The man was holding onto the end of it tightly with both hands. His mask then disappeared to show his face. His was long, matching how big the rest of his body was, defined cheek bones sticking out. Brown wavy hair slicked back with a few loose strands flying out in the wind. The look of desperation on his face stook out most of all. Why did he care so much? He didn’t know you, and you definitely didn’t know him. “Let me pull you up. Please,” he said to you between shaky pants. You stared at him for a bit before nodding. He slowly pulled you up with the string of his web, each move more careful than the last. As soon as your feet were planted safely back on the roof of the building, he wrapped you up in his massive arms. You appreciated the gesture, but you didn’t return it, still very confused about why he was so concerned. He was so big around your body though, you couldn’t help but feel a little comforted, feeling his still shaky breaths against the hairs of your neck. Soon after, he clicked on some buttons on his neon orange watch and led you into a portal.

The rest is history. You’re grateful he found you that day. It allowed you to meet so many people, Peter B., Jess, Gwen, Hobie, Ben, Pavitr, Margo. They all related to you and you felt like you could share things with them that you couldn’t do with anyone else. You had grown especially close to Peter and Jess, both of them having been in the game for a long time, just like you. They both knew how you felt, having lost so much and growing so tired after so many years. Peter even named you as Mayday’s godmother when she was born, a gesture that caused you to nearly kill him with your hug. Miguel though was different. He wasn’t nearly as social as the rest of your friends, but you found yourself having much more intimate moments with him (in more ways then one). You eventually found out why Miguel was so concerned for you the day you met. He had taken interest in your abilities early into looking for variants for his little “project”, but refrained from roping you into something so dangerous while you were still in your teens.

Once you were old enough though, he started paying more and more attention, hoping to catch you in a fight and recruit you then. But he was always pulled away with more important duties to attend to. That was until he witnessed your canon event. He had seen it happen so many times before through his scanners. It was going to happen. It had to in order for your universe to not collapse in on itself. But for some reason, yours hurt more than the rest to him. Especially how you coped with it. Seeing you wrap yourself up in her blankets and clothes broke his heart. He knew where this would lead to. That’s why he was there that day. To save you. He had to, or he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself. You got your own watch immediately, along with your own room in the Spider Society headquarters. He stayed close with you for the first month of you being a member of the team. When he wasn’t out on missions, he was with you. You didn’t really know what to label you two as, but whatever was going on, you liked it. And he did too.

That is until Miles came into the picture. Once Miles was bit, all hell broke loose for Miguel. He was always in some alternate dimension catching some Spider-Man villain who got out and rangled them back over here, falling back over to you more beat up and bruised than the last time. You couldn’t imagine how much stress he was under, the fate of the entire multiverse up to him. You had some ways of helping him relieve his stress, but you wish you could convince him that he wasn’t alone in this. But nothing ever got through to him. He had become distant, aloof even. You tried bringing it up to Jess every so often, but she would just brush it off.

“That’s how he’s always been.” Not to you he hasn’t. This week has been hell though. With Spot making it over to Miles, Miguel had been going into rages all week. You had put up with it for now, but that was all about to stop. Watching how harsh he was being on Miles, throwing so many Spider-Men at an innocent boy, risking all of their lives in the process. Disregarding everything Gwen and Peter were feeling and then throwing Gwen back into her broken world with nothing. He had gone too far. No one else was going to stand up to him about it, so you knew it had to be you. Maybe he would listen, maybe he wouldn’t. It didn’t really matter. He just needed to hear it.

“It’s not worth it you know.” The voice snapped you out of your thoughts, stopping you in your tracks. “You know how stubborn he gets over these things,” said Jess, trying to convince you to save your breath. “I don’t care. I have to at least try,” you responded, monotonically. “I just don’t understand how you can follow him so blindly and not see what he’s doing is wrong.” “Because he isn’t wrong. I don’t know about you, but I’m not just gonna stand by and let some kid’s stupid decisions destroy another Earth,” Jess argued. “He’s just trying to save his dad, I can’t understand how that makes him such a bad person,” you said, finally turning around to face her, shocked when she was closer to you than expected.

“You know exactly why. Don’t be so naive, y/n,” she shot back. “You can’t stop me,” you said staring straight into her. She shrugged. “Then I can’t help you.” She began to walk away. You did to, until you heard her say. “You don’t know how much he cares for you.” You turned around to face her again, but her back was still to you, her head tilted ever so slightly to look at you. “If you really do care for the kid, watch what you say to Miguel right now. Cause you might just give him the final push he needs to do what needs to be done.” You didn’t give her a response, and just simply kept walking. You felt Jess’ eyes on your back as you entered the elevator to get up to Miguel’s office.

The elevator ride up felt longer than it should’ve, as you tried to gather all of your thoughts and emotions together so even if he didn’t listen, your words would still stick with him in some way. You didn’t necessarily want to hurt him (though your fists were telling you otherwise), but you did want him to be aware of what he’s done. Once the doors finally opened, all of that work flew out the window as rage took over your body again, seeing Miguel up there looking at the scanners. The fact that he looked just as normal as he always does made you furious. It’s like nothing happened.

“You know, I could hear you coming in from the lobby,” he said, almost stopping you in your tracks. You hated when he did that. Claiming that he knew what your every move was going to be. Like you were under his control or something. “Yeah, well then you must’ve heard me talking to Jess, which means you know exactly what this is about,” you shot back, stopping to where you could see him perched up there. “Why don’t you just save me the conversation about morality and just come up here and kick my ass already. It’ll save both of us time,” he said, not even taking his eyes off the scanners to look down at you. This only added to your fury. “That’s not what I’m here for Miguel, so don’t you dare try to twist my words here. What you did to that kid was fucked up and you know it.” “Oh yeah, then why didn’t you try to do anything to stop me?” he questioned.

“Because I’m not stupid Miguel. I’m not gonna try to take down hundreds of Spider-Men at once.” “Oh, cause you’re so much better than that?” This wasn’t like him at all. That gentle, kind, and caring Miguel you once knew was gone, taken over by some sort of personal vendetta he had against Miles. “Listen, I don’t know what’s going on with you, but this all needs to stop before it gets taken too far. You’re getting into a fight you can’t win. That kid’s strong and so are his allies. And if you go any further into this, I won’t be here to help you.” He stayed still and only turned his head to look at you. “And what makes you think that you’re so important to my plan that it’ll fall apart if you leave? Have you really become that pretentious?”

Your body froze. Have I really? No no no, that’s exactly what he wants. If you begin to doubt yourself now, you’ll stay and nothing will change. You knew you were right. He was trying to crumble you down, but you wouldn’t let that happen. “And you really think that one kid is going to ruin something that you’ve been working for for years? How insecure you’ve become.” “You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said, turning back away from you. You did the same, wiping off your face in anger. “I hate it when you do tha-,” you said as you turned back around, but were cut off to find Miguel standing there right in front of you. He was close. Too close to your liking, although in any other circumstance you would’ve found this attractive.

He tilted his head up, but his eyes were down staring daggers into yours. You hated how much he tried to make himself seem more superior to you. “You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he repeated, this time slower as if you were a child. “He’s just a kid Miguel,” you said in a low, quiet voice. “An anomaly. And a dangerous one at that.” “God Miguel, all he wants to do is protect his dad, do you know how insane you sound right now?” you said letting out a slight laugh when you finished. You backed away from him a little. “He doesn’t know how much damage he’ll do with this. Saving his father will only prolong the inevitable. His world will be gone within hours if he does this. All I’m trying to do is make him understand,” he tried to explain. “By trying to kill him.” “You always have to exaggerate the situation,” he said palming his face. “But that’s essentially what you’re trying to do isn’t it? Why not snuff out the problem entirely by taking him out!”

He signed and began to walk away while you were talking, bringing up your anger even more. “Yeah, use all the power you’ve accumulated over the years and just take out the small problem! Except this isn’t just a fly on the wall Miguel. This is a child! An innocent boy who didn’t ask for any of this to happen to him, just like how we didn’t. I get it, I’m sorry that this job is stressful, I really am. But that gives you zero right to act the way you are!” You were screaming at him at this point. You didn’t want to. You didn’t want your emotions to get the best of you. But he was being too stubborn. This was the only way you thought you could get to him. You might not have wanted to, but you needed to hurt him now. It was the only way.

“You can’t be so power blind that you refused to accept the fact that there could be a way around Captain Davis’ death. You said we saved Earth’s before, I’m sure we could do it again.” Your anger only kept rising when he kept walking away and didn’t respond. “This is a personal thing isn’t it?” you asked calmly. You knew it was working now when he stopped walking. “Yeah, it it. You won’t let Miles get his happy ending. Because why should he be pardoned of his burden while the rest of us have suffered so much. While you’ve suffered so much.” The answer to your question was confirmed when Miguel stayed silent. “Just because you didn’t get the life you wanted Miguel, doesn’t mean you have the right to stop other people from getting theirs.”

You knew you overstepped the line when Miguel turned around and started walking towards you, fury burning in his crimson eyes. “Yeah, so what! What if that is what this is all about! You should know better than anyone how much this job takes away from you!” he screamed at you, backing you up into a wall. “Why should he get to be let off so easily, while people like you and me have to suffer so much? Don’t try to turn me into the villain here when I know you’re thinking the exact same thing, y/n.” He wasn’t entirely wrong. You had wondered it at some points. “I won’t let you turn this onto me Miguel, this is about you,” you fired back. “Oh no, you’re not getting off that easily. I know you’re thinking it. And you’re right. Why should Miles get let off so easily when you’ve lost so much.” He held your hands in his, trying to connect to you. “And you have mi vida. You’ve had so much taken from you and it’s unfair. Why should he only have lost one person when you’ve had three taken from you. Your brother, Peter, your moth-.”

He was cut off by your hand striking against his face in a harsh blow. “If you’re smart, and I know you are, you’ll keep those three out of them. I won’t let you drag their names through the dirt for something as stupid as this.” You both stood there for a while, both of your eyes looking towards the ground, hoping it would open up to swallow you both as an escape from this god awful conversation. You never wanted it to come to this. In all honesty, you cared for Miguel. You might’ve even loved him, if you were even capable of doing such a thing. You hoped he felt the same way about you, but in a job like this, he always had at least one wall up around you. It just wasn’t worth it anymore. You were too tired to keep trying for something that was most likely going to fall apart in the end.

“You’re still going after him aren’t you?” you asked, finally breaking the silence. Miguel looked back up at you. “You can’t ask me not to. You know better than anyone why this is so important to me.” He moved his hand up to cup your cheek and kissed your forehead gently. You let it sit there for a minute out of habit before pushing it off your face. “And you must know why I can’t stay anymore then.” His shoulders dropped. “Whatever this thing between us is. It’s over. I can’t stay beside someone who can’t see what he’s doing is wrong.” Miguel’s dropped hand turned into a fist of anger. “Fine,” he spat in your face. “I don’t need someone like you in my way. You’re just a liability to this anyways.” He began to walk away from you back to his scanners. “Just don’t come crying back over to me when your little plan doesn’t work out, cause I won’t help you.” He used his webs to pull himself back up to the platform to keep looking for Miles. You stood there for a second, gathering yourself.

Five years. Out the door just like that. It bewildered you how easily a bond like you two had could be broken all because of one teenager. You began to make your way for the door before you said. “When this is all over…don’t try to find me.” He didn’t respond. Once the elevator doors opened, you rushed inside, desperate to get away from him. So many thoughts rushed through your head as the doors closed and you sunk down back to the lobby to leave. You didn’t have much of a plan. This could end up being a horrible idea. Your gut told you it was the right thing to do though. And that was enough for you. You walked out of the headquarters lobby with a new heart and a new mind, ready to take action for your new plan.

First though, you had to find Gwen.

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a/n: god that took longer than it should've. dw dw i'll do a part 2 if enough people ask for one. im not 100% sure how im gonna do a part 2 cause yk....idk how beyond the spiderverse is gonna go so tbh, we're just gonna make it go the way i want lmao. thanks for reading, ik this was kind of a long one lmao

NEXT CHAPTER

#miguel o’hara #miguel o'hara x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #into the spider verse #spider-woman reader #across the spiderverse #fem!reader #fanfic #fanfiction #spiderman #spider man #spider man: across the spider verse #spiderverse

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chuluoyi · 1 year ago

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Could you do a brother’s best friend!Megumi x reader?

like her brother being overprotective, but being oblivious of his best friend’s crush on her sister?

(not the) best kept secret

- fushiguro megumi x reader

cool, brooding and handsome. your crush on your brother's best friend is a secret you only keep to yourself. little do you know, he too feels the same. and so, your love story—and the trials and tribulations that come with it—begins.

genre/warnings: college au, reader being yuji's little sister and him and your family being protective, fluff, mutual pining, tiny weeny angst if you squint? with happy ending ofc!

notes: awww anon, this ask is so cute and so hidden love-coded! did you watch hidden love too? because this piece draws inspiration from that ehe. and uh it turned out longer than i expected and i haven't proofread it but pls enjoy!

general masterlist

You have had a crush on your brother’s best friend, Megumi, for a while now.

Actually, scratch that. For a long time now, since you were in middle school, in fact.

In your eyes, he was really cool. He was reserved and not very talkative, which was a stark contrast to your brother Yuji, who could talk a mile a minute every day. It always baffled you why the two could be bosom friends.

And he treated you well. Megumi may have bonked Yuji’s head at any given chance, but with you, he was different. He was gentler, kinder, and overall just considerate. Sometimes he would even pick you up in your brother’s place, and your heart would beat out of your chest from sheer giddiness.

Little did you know, he too didn’t quite see you as a mere sister of his friend.

It started with head pats. You heart would flutter and he would be more conscious of his actions. Yuji had furrowed an righteous eyebrow at the sight.

“Oi, Fushiguro, that’s some favoritism there!” he whined. “I helped you with homework and what did I get—”

“Shut up, Itadori.”

And then the text messages. You didn’t know how or why you ended up texting him on daily basis. He was the one who texted you first a few months ago, having obtained your number from a mutual friend in your circle to ask about the best gift for Yuji’s birthday. And somehow up until now, you found yourselves telling him how your day went, and he the same.

you: i've just finished my class today. so tired megumi: oh? mine is still in session. quite boring you: i see. well, ganbatte!

Those little interactions made your day, and for now, you were quite satisfied with them. But when your phone buzzed once again, signaling a new text, you couldn't resist the urge to swiftly open the messaging app to expect the expected.

megumi: wanna grab lunch later?

It was so incredibly childish, but you felt like winning.

Lunch invitations were often. You spent the whole duration of lunch with him almost every day at this point. The two of you talked about many mundane things, and he would have this small smile whenever you griped about your hard tests or annoying classmates.

Head pats. Texts. Lunches.

And then there was Nobara.

Now, don't get me wrong. You adored her—she was a fun person, pretty and you even looked up to her as your role model at some point. If Yuji somehow ended up with her, you were sure to give them 200% of your blessings.

But seeing her with Megumi was another story. Sometimes you envied your brother's close knit group of three. They had been friends since middle school, and it was granted that Nobara would spend a whole load of time with both your brother and Megumi. With Yuji, she was harsher and didn't take him seriously, but you couldn't deny what your peers had been whispering and what you yourself found very plausible—she and Megumi would make a fine match.

It wasn't your intention at all, but ever since you saw him and Nobara at the toy shop together, pulling for popular merchandises in gacha box, you started losing confidence in yourself and inadvertently put this distance between you and him.

At first it was subtle, Megumi didn't even realize it. But when your replies were few and far in between, he decided it was time to address the problem.

"You don't answer my texts," he stated one day, barely catching you at campus during the lunchtime. Now that he thought about it, you kept denying his lunch invitations too. "Are you avoiding me?"

"I, um," you stuttered. You didn't anticipate running into him, to be honest, and so you were at loss of words. "It isn't like that..."

Megumi figured that he had done something to make you feel like you should avoid him, but he didn't want the two of you to be in this awkward situation any longer, so he led you away from the crowd to your usual place of hanging out after lunch—the rooftop.

"Have I done something?" he asked warily. "It's okay, you can tell me."

"No, Megumi, I—"

"I don't want us to be like—this," Megumi said, his face contorting with a deep frown. "I don't like it at all."

Typically, he regarded friendships as a pain, but not with you. Not with the girl he had been pining over for who knows how long now.

Yuji's sister. He had to remind himself of that fact so many times and yet his heart didn't seem to get it. You were his best friend's dearest sister, and yet he fell for you regardless. If Yuji knew, he would definitely had some opinions on this.

And so for the last few months, he kept it hidden under his sleeves. He approached you, befriended you, took you out on lunch dates—acting on his growing feelings for you and yet he didn't have the courage to confess still.

But enough was enough. If not confessing meant losing you altogether, then he was willing to take the risk. At the very least, if you did reject him, he would have gone down with a fight.

"Y/N, I don't know if you're already aware of this or not, but..." he gulped. Apparently this wasn't as easy as he thought, especially when you met his gaze with your cutely confused ones.

"I have feelings for you. I... like you, quite much."

His voice was clear, without any hint of doubt. You were taken aback and widened your eyes out of surprise.

"You do...?" you shyly asked him back, finding it hard to believe. Fushiguro Megumi, the boy you've been crushing on since you were 15, when you were only able to hide behind Yuji and saw him from afar. The boy who once was indifferent to you, was now confessing his feelings for you? He liked you back in the same way you liked him?

"I do," he replied with clarity, and then a smile. That small smile that always made your insides do somersaults. "I want to ask you out for a while now, but since well... you know... out of consideration for your brother, I felt like I couldn't simply whisk you away."

To his surprise, you laughed, and Megumi found himself breathless. The way you laugh was so mesmerizing in his eyes, reminding him why he could fall in love with you in the first place.

"I like you too, Megumi."

And that was all he needed. Apparently that confirmation was enough to forget that you were the sister of his long-time friend, and that it was fine even if you were. After all, since when was it a crime to romance your best friend's sister?

Still, you two decided to keep it under the wraps first. Springing this on Yuji would startle him, you reasoned, and he agreed. It was more convenient this way anyways.

Your relationship with Megumi was a happy one. He was curt, but never failed to look out for you. He remembered things you liked, and would take you out on places you wanted to go. Arguments were there—granted, sometimes he was just too stubborn, so you may have a clash of opinions—but in the end, the two of you always managed to work it out.

But there was always something melancholic in Megumi that you weren't sure you could touch at all. Perhaps it was due to his upbringing—his incomplete family. You tried to fill that gap, giving him many fun and happy memories, hoping it would replace his sad ones. He was grateful for that.

Nonetheless, the reality persisted that your brother, Yuji, remained completely oblivious to all of this. Yuji still thought that you were his innocent younger sister, and Megumi was his best bro. Sometimes you felt bad to do all this behind his back, and yet you made no move to rectify it.

“Hey, let’s ask Fushiguro to join too!” Yuji would say, and you would agree. And then, in front of him, you and Megumi would refrain from being too friendly, and he would be none the wiser.

All things have karma. You have built your karma too, for deceiving your kind and sweet brother.

"Fushiguro! How could you?!"

When Yuji's fist collided with his jaw, honestly Megumi had given up on fighting back, because one, there was no chance of winning against him, and two, your scream pierced the air, filled with worry for him.

You two just had to be found out in the worst way possible—while making out. It was wrong in so many levels in the first place. Why and how did you even initiate making out in your house that you shared with your brother?

"It could've been anyone," Yuji fumed with anger, his teeth clenching. "Anyone at all! And yet it has to be Y/N—my own sister! Fushiguro, have you ever considered the magnitude of betrayal this is to me?"

"Yuji! Please stop!" you tried to intervene. "He's not at wrong—it was me who—"

"No, you don't get any say in this!" for the first time, you saw your kind brother got angry and it made you quiver in fear. Yuji had never been angry, not to you. "You too, Y/N. How could do this behind my back? The least you could do is telling me!"

"I'm an adult!" you stressed, now irritated at this display of protectiveness from him. "I can date whoever I want and you can't just punch the man who happens to be my boyfriend!"

Honestly, if asked, Yuji wasn’t like 100% against your relationship with Megumi. He and Megumi practically grew up together, he knew the best and worst parts of him, and overall he still considered him decent.

But what made it hurt was that the two of you decided to leave him out. It made him doubt everything he knew about his best friend. How could he trust his sister to someone he found hard to trust?

He turned to Megumi, who was still slumped on the floors of his garage. “No. If he really likes you that much, then he will willingly accept this.”

Megumi understood, if his own sister was dating… let’s say, someone like Gojo, whom he trusted but not at the same time, he too would definitely beat the crap out of him.

And so he willingly endured all the blows. Yuji had to let off steam, and this pain was worth everything if it meant he would give his blessing for you.

Yuji was taken aback that his friend actually let him do this. When Megumi got thrown one last time and almost passed out, Yuji finally decided that it was the end.

His best friend and his sister… it was almost laughable if he didn’t feel like the biggest fool between the two of you.

He saw how you immediately sauntered towards him with tears in your eyes, muttering several apologies. Yuji wanted to snort, but then Megumi took a hold of your hand that was on his bruised cheek, and smiled, saying that it was okay.

And despite himself, his heart felt warm. Seeing the usual gruff and cold Megumi be this… soft with you seemed to open his eyes to something more.

Looking back, he could’ve had realized it when Megumi started to get touchy with you. He completely missed that the head pats were actually his subtle way of expressing his fondness for you.

Yuji decided to leave you be. At least he had made his point across, and he hated to say it outright, but perhaps, it was okay after all for you to be with him.

Okay didn’t mean you two had obtained his full blessing, though. But another event soon changed his perspective.

“Itadori,” Megumi’s ragged breaths was what he registered first through the sudden phone call. “Please come here—Y/N—she was—”

It was Yuji’s first time to witness pure panic from Megumi. He proceeded to tell him how you had been in pain and then collapsed, and that he had brought you to the hospital.

When Yuji arrived at the hospital, he once again saw how restless his friend was over your wellbeing. He could no longer deny it—the sight moved him.

“Hey, you awake?” Megumi’s face was the first you saw when you awoke at the hospital bed. He looked so concerned, a frown creased deep in his face. “Are you not in pain anymore?”

No, not quite much anymore, you wanted to say, but your throat felt so dry and you only managed to shake your head lightly.

“That’s good,” he let out a relieved sigh, and that was when you notice your brother at the corner of the room, looking at you two with a somewhat exasperated expression, but then he smiled.

Who knew a severe case of appendicitis would lead to Yuji giving his complete approval for you to date his best friend, huh?

But life is nothing if not full of obstacles. The next obstacle you faced after Yuji’s finding out was your parents.

“Look Y/N, we know. Megumi is a good guy,” you mother started. “We've known him for a long time, of course, personality-wise, we have nothing against him.”

You bit your lower lip in frustration. Beside you at the dinner table, Yuji kept his silence, but listened attentively too.

“It’s just… the matters of his family,” your father added, carefully choosing his words.

“His father is never in the picture, is he? And there are also rather unsettling news about him too.” Your mother was always the one being more straightforward.

Both you and Yuji knew it already. As of now, Megumi only had his stepsister, and last you heard, his father was gambling somewhere and then became a convict. Megumi said he had cut ties with him, but there was no such thing as an ex-father. Until forevermore, Fushiguro Toji, a criminal, was his biological father.

“Mom, I know your concern,” Yuji had finally decided to step up, and you were grateful for that. “Fushiguro won’t end up—”

“Yes, we know,” your mother emphasized, letting out a sigh. “But we are your parents, Yuji, Y/N. If there’s even the slightest chance, we worry. We want the best for you. Always.”

You were at a loss.

You were young, and yet you already saw him in your distant future. Being with Megumi felt so right and comfortable. He was your safe space as you were his.

But you also understood where your parents’ concerns came from, or at least tried to. At least until you found out how your father approached Megumi to talk him into thinking your relationship over.

"How could you, Dad?" you asked, aghast. "You're... practically intimidating him into breaking up with me!"

"Y/N, listen—I never meant it like that," your father tried to explain himself, and yet you were already too heartbroken to hear him, and so you shut the door to your room, not giving him any chance.

Why did your relationship suddenly become everyone's business? Why couldn't they just let you be an adult?

Megumi could still hear your father's words rang in his ears.

"Y/N... we raised her with love and care," your father said with a forlorn expression. By all means, Megumi knew that he meant well. "She's always spoiled, my only daughter... Megumi-kun, you must understand, it's not easy for us too."

He knew that his rather colorful past would get in the way one way or another, and he had come to accept it. But it still stung, because of course, he wanted full blessings from the family of the girl he fell in love with.

You were like a ray of sunshine in his dreary life. Like Yuji, your presence had made an impact on him. Your cute smiles, pouts and vulnerability around him... he loved them all.

He would get upset when you looked sad, just as you were now.

"It's really okay... Y/N." He swiftly wiped your tears with his thumb, as you sniffled. "I didn't take it to heart. Your father is just worried about you... I can understand that."

"But still—h-he shouldn't do that," you replied amidst your small sobs. Above all, you didn't want your father to have spooked him. "Megumi... I don't want to break up with you."

And honestly he didn't expect that. You were afraid of him... leaving you?

He, who did everything he could, just to have you to be by his side?

"Sir, I know where you are coming from. As of now, I don't have much. But I can say this with confidence—I... love your daughter very much, and I will do everything in my power to make sure that she is happy."

"Stupid," he huffed, putting a hand on your head, before messing up your hair. And gosh, you were so cute, glaring at him through your lashes.

"I won't. I've told your father that too actually."

"Just give me two years," Megumi added with unwavering voice, staring at your father earnestly. "After graduation, I'm getting my life in order. I'll secure a stable job and do my best. I'm... going to prove it to you, and you can be the judge if I can finally deserve Y/N or not."

He was 16 when he knew you, seeing you as nothing but a little girl too timid to approach him. And he was 19 when he realized that you were everything he wanted in a girl of his dreams.

At one point in his life, Megumi thought it was okay to be alone. But ever since getting to know you, he realized that loving and being loved by you were the greatest happiness of existence.

"Thank you," he muttered afterwards, as you were still starstruck that he apparently had the balls to declare something like that before your father.

"Thank you for giving me so much love. Because of you, I realized that I too deserve to be loved."

You could feel tears glassing your eyes once again. “You are. I’m glad that you finally think so.”

And that was it—your love story. Something that had started when you were 15, and ended ten years later when you were 25, with swearing your love for each other in front of the sacred altar before your closest family and friends, and Megumi by your side.

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little-diable · 10 months ago

Note

Chi, I'm here to request a smutty Tommy blurb if you're still accepting them. I can't stop thinking of the garden scene you wrote recently and now I'm hoping you'll be inspired to cont that thought OR write something between Tommy x reader which finds them giving into their passion outdoors. I think you're onto something about this setting being relaxing for Tommy 😉

My love!! Thank you for this, I truly love this pairing just as much. Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: No direct follow up to this, but the same vibes, just pwp, Tommy eats out his wife in their garden

Warnings: 18+, smut, oral (f), outdoor

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x fem!reader (800 words)

“I think this was the first time they didn’t cry,” (y/n) whispered her words to her husband as she sat down next to him. She had just waved goodbye to her father who had taken her and Tommy’s children with him for the weekend.

“They’re growing up.” Tommy kept his eyes closed, smoking his cigarette as he enjoyed the sun rays dancing over his pale features. The soft summer breeze wrapped itself around them, teasing the two lovers.

“Don’t act like I didn’t catch you close to tears as Emma told you she won’t need another bedtime story last week.” With a sigh Tommy opened his eyes, shaking his head at his scowling wife before rolling his head back towards the sun.

“Don’t rub it in, eh? I can’t let my wife run her mouth and destroy my image without paying the price for it.” (Y/n) couldn’t stop her laughs from rumbling through her, leaning closer to kiss Tommy’s warm jawline. The hum leaving her husband left (y/n) grinning and squealing as he tugged her closer, landing on his lap. “So, we’ve got the house to yourselves now, don’t we?”

“What’s your plan, Mister Shelby?” Their eyes met, his full of excitement and mischief, hers filled with curiosity and longing. He pulled her in for a slow kiss, allowing her to taste cigarettes and tea on his tongue, a mixture she had learned to love over the past years, adjusting to the way Tommy Shelby lived two different lives as a cruel gangster and as a loving family man.

“First, I want to get a taste of my wife, right here only for my eyes to see.” Tommy rose to his feet with (y/n)’s legs wrapped around his waist. “And then I’ll fuck you through the night.”

“I certainly won’t stop you from doing so.” She was placed down on the ground, on the blanket their children had sat on this morning, keeping their clothes clean before driving off with their grandparents. (Y/n)’s eyes followed his every move, watching Tommy push her dress up to her waist, groaning at the sight of her bare cunt. “Took off my underwear after they left, I knew it wouldn’t take long for you to grow impatient.”

“A smart woman I’ve got on my hands, eh?” He smirked at her before he buried his face between her thighs, tongue brushing through her slit, tasting her arousal. The birds sang in the distance, yet not loud enough to drown out her moans, the beautiful sounds clawing through her as Tommy ate her out.

He loved the sounds rumbling through her whenever he touched her, only his to pick up on, his to coax out of her. Tommy had his wife at his mercy, ready to feast on her, to turn her into a trembling mess as he towered over her with his cock twitching in excitement and his heart racing from the adrenaline thumping through him.

“You taste so sweet, fuck, I could die between your thighs, darling.” He groaned his words against her cunt as his fingers found her pulsing bundle. Cruses left (y/n) at the touch, forcing her to arch her back off the blanket, eyes focused on the blue sky above. He always managed to push her close to the edge within a few seconds, leaving her gasping and trembling for him only.

“Jesus, Tom, you’re too good at that.” A proud grin tugged on his lips as he dipped his tongue into her tightness, feeling her walls tense around the strong muscle. She was close, ready to let go with his name leaving her – the first orgasm of many to come. Her fingers tightened their grip on the blanket, trying to hold onto it as the intense feeling washed through her.

It was a spectacle so beautiful, Tommy wasn’t sure if it was just a trick of his brain, imagining the most beautiful sight he could come up with. But the moans were too powerful, and the trembling of her body was too real, leaving him chuckling as he watched her fall apart.

“I won’t say no to spending the next few hours like that.” (Y/n)’s breathless whispers drew another laugh out of Tommy as he crawled up her body, meeting her lips in a slow kiss.

#Tommy Shelby smut #Tommy Shelby imagine #Tommy Shelby x reader #peaky blinders smut

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vvallent1ne · 5 months ago

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Taking What’s Not Yours

sebastian solace x gn reader :))

ehe. the hyperfixation is bad …

i honestly wrote this because a friend asked me to, so thank you to them!! 😊

wc: 1,401

small description: you haven’t seen sebastian in a good long while.

warnings: hugging, sexual innuendo(s)??, just a lot of tension overall tbh, seb is kinda 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂, but nothing actually happens besides hugging you FREAKS, seb and reader both love each other 😊, small relationship doubts from reader, honestly just a very anxious reader altogether, seb is tall as fuck, reader is a human prisoner!!, reader is GENDER NEUTRAL !! 👏👏

song that inspired fic: taking what’s not yours by TV Girl !!

This run around the Blacksite was particularly taxing. You’d been here for hours and you still haven’t gotten past door 45. The entities really seemed to have it out of for this time around, appearing more frequently than usual.

Maybe they were all just cranky today. You understood.

To make matters worse, you had accidentally flashed Eyefestation with your flash beacon out of fear and enraged it. Great. Just what you needed. You had also previously opened a false door out of pure impatience and got a big chunk of your health taken off. You were low on health and patience today.

Luckily, you knew that Sebastian’s room would be coming soon, and this realization brought a heat and hue to your cheeks. You were excited to see him. Him, a monster you once feared, turned into the man you were excited to see. You sighed to yourself, knowing that you were stupidly falling head over heels.

Soon enough, you had walked into room 49 and immediately heard the familiar sound of the metal of Sebastian’s vent hitting the concrete flooring. It used to startle you, but now, it brings you a sense of comfort.

“You know where to find me.” His sirenic voice cooed from inside the vent, practically drawing you in. You could feel your face slipping open with an idiotically happy smile as you began to maneuver down the vent.

“I know where to look.” You responded, your glee evident in your tone. How many days has it been, you wondered, since you had last seen him? Did he miss you, as you missed him? Did he share the same aching of your ribs, the enclosing feeling that you were far from the one you loved? You hoped he did.

You paused at the eye of the vent, right before his office, and furrowed your brows in worry. What if he wasn’t happy to see you? What if he was enjoying his break from you, a “silly human” as he liked to call you.

Were you reading too much into this, or too little?

“Hey now, you know I don’t bite… unless you want me to.” He teased, the last pasty said under his breath, but still heard by you. Your cheeks warmed, questioning if he truly did mean it in that way or not. You shook your disruptive thoughts out of your mind and continued to crawl outside of the vent and into Sebastian’s office.

You turned your body around so that you could land on your feet instead of your face. You had learned from a previous encounter that Sebastian was never going to let you live that down. Hell, even if you died, he wouldn’t let go of it.

“Woah now, don’t hurt that pretty face of yours again.” He chuckled, the memory flooding back into his mind. You noticed the small compliment thrown in with this teasing. Pretty, huh? He should look in a mirror. The realization soon set in that he had called your face … pretty? You felt your entire body heat up once again. Why was he being so flirtatious today?

Throughout you two’s relationship, though only having begun a few weeks ago, Sebastian had never been this charming with his compliments or as… direct with his innuendos. This side of him seemed like a completely different person. What had changed about him since you were gone?

You made a conscious effort to ignore his fluster-inducing compliment and made sure to land securely on your feet. You looked a bit to the right, expecting him to be in his normal place.

Instead, your eyes caught view of him practically right in front of you, his height towering over you like a human to an ant. That was also, coincidentally, how you felt around him as of now. Like a small, crushable ant.

You had to crane your neck all the way up to look him in his three eyes, and you noticed that each of them lingered only on you. It felt weird to have so much of his attention on you all at one time, you were practically squirming under his vice-like gaze.

“Long time no see,” You spoke, trying to alleviate the awkward tension you were feeling. Sebastian, on the other hand, seemed to have no problem with it. You moved around him, heading towards his tail to hopefully be cleared of his stare, but it was of no use. “How’ve you been?” You asked genuinely. You were told once that the best way to get someone’s attention off of you, was to get them to talk about themselves.

However, Sebastian just stared at you, as apathetic as ever. You guessed that he saw through your tactic, and you were now suddenly very nervous. He slithered his tail away from you, right as you were about to buy a first aid kit for your wounds, and came towards you with his upper body.

He lowered himself down as far as he could without discomfort, and his arms were around you in an instant. You stood there, still, unmoving, for at least seven seconds. Your mouth gaped and your eyes shot wide open, not at all expecting his gesture. You eventually snapped out of your dazed state and wrapped your two, music smaller arms, around his neck.

Despite being a combination of a bunch of cold-blooded fish, he was still the warmest thing you’ve ever felt. You practically melted into the hug, and he grasped your waist with two hands to keep you upright. His other hand came to the back of your head, pushing you into his clothed chest and playing with your hair.

So this was heaven, huh?

You’ve never felt so loved, so doted over, so cared for. All of the horrors from outside these four walls faded into a distant memory in the back of your head. That’s what Sebastian did. He protected you, inside and out, and held you like you were the most important thing in the world to him, and you held him the same. Because it was true. You were his world, and he, yours. Any and all of your doubts about him from your time away dispersed the second he touched you, held you, loved you.

In a place where there was no love to be found, he gave you the supply you had been missing. And so did you.

“Cut the small talk, I’ve missed you so.” He spoke in a hushed whisper against the shell of your right ear. You reddened immediately, however you weren’t sure if it was because of his words, or the fact that he was so close to you. Maybe both.

“Really?” You spoke, a teasing lilt in your voice. You hadn’t even realized how sultry it had sounded until it came out of your mouth. Your eyes widened m, fearing his reply, and praying it wouldn’t come with more teasing—you don’t think you could candle any more of it.

“Of course I do, I have no customers as great and pulchritudinous as you.” He replied, every word sounding genuine. You weren’t quite sure what that last adjective was, but you were blushing anyway. Damn him and his attractively wide vocabulary.

“You best not.” You spit back, unbridled jealousy obvious in your tone. You were too tired to try and hide it. Plus, Sebastian figures out everything you seem to be hiding regardless. He seemed to see through you almost, as if you were made of glass.

He gripped your hips tighter at the covetousness dripping from your words, his claws lightly grazing your skin through your diving gear.

“Oh, is that so?” He chuckled before smugly smirking down at your face, buried in his rumbling chest. “My, do you truly believe that anyone else could make me feel the things that you do, mon chéri?” He finished his teasing question by prying your head off his chest, using his third hand to grip your smaller chin, forcing you to look at him when you answered.

“I don’t know how I make you feel…” You trailed off. His eyes on your face, your cheeks, your lips, made you doubt anything you had said. You wanted him to approve of you so, so badly.

He looked down at you with an almost predatory hunger. His eyes became half-lidded as he leaned down to face you head-on.

“Would you like me to show you?”

#sebastian solace #sebastian solace x reader #pressure #roblox

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pfhwrittes · 3 months ago

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title: (hunka hunka) burnin’ love

pairing: john “soap” mactavish x female reader

word count: 1.6k

tags/triggers: smut, oral sex (johnny receiving), semi-public sex, johnny��s POV, blink and you’ll miss it reference to past kyle “gaz” garrick x reader, humour, parental interference, pet names (“bonnie”, “hen”).

a/n: i’ve finally finished a fic. everyone send tats (@stuffireadandenjoy) some love for inspiring this one.

also regarding the parental interference tag, johnny’s dad walks in after the reader and johnny have finished. if that makes you cringe, feel free to skip from “christ, the fabric of his boxers chafes something fierce.” and pick back up at “back at the table johnny fidgets uncomfortably…”

as always my work is barely edited (i loathe re-reading my own words) so typos and grammatical goofs are likely. with that said, enjoy!

johnny’s breath hitches as you lick a (gratifyingly) long wet stripe up the underside of his cock. your tongue curling sweetly around the head as your fingers dig into the meat of his thighs, not taking your eyes off him for a second.

christ, he’s a lucky man. a very lucky man.

you’re always game for his particular brand of hijinks. when he’d dragged you unsubtly to the bathroom of the nice restaurant after watching you chew on the straw of your drink (for aeons!) with those plump lips of yours, he was sure you’d slap his hands away. chide him. remind him he was no better than a panting mutt. tell him to keep his hands to himself until after dinner at least.

but you didn’t.

and now here he was. and here you were. on your knees as his belt buckle clinks noisily in the locked toilet cubicle while the rest of the table (sorry maw) waited for the second course.

“christ, bonnie.” johnny hisses through his teeth desperately as you lap leisurely at the droplet of precum beading at the slit. (and no, cupcakKe’s deepthroat does not start playing in the back of his mind. shut up.)

you blink up at johnny in a catlike fashion. he preemptively bites down on his knuckles so he can’t make a stupid joke about the cat gettin’ the cream, eh hen? and be left, quite literally, cock in hand as you return to the table in a huff. (it’s one of the things he loves about you. you’re mercurial as sin and god knows he loves the chase.)

his heart stutters and it takes all his will power not to place his hand on the back of your head and thrust deep into the wet heat of your mouth as you slowly suck on the head of his cock. fuck, it’s not the first time you’ve dropped to your knees and sucked the soul out of him but it leaves him breathless each and every time.

(has he mentioned he’s a very lucky man?)

“mphfuuuuckin’ hell!” he manages to swear around his fingers before remembering to pull them out of his mouth.

he doesn’t know what it is but this time something feels different. your clever tongue traces nonsensical patterns as you bob your head. it’s wet and messy, the soft skin under your lips prickling, almost as if his dick is more sensitive than usual.

wait.

prickling?

“wait, bonnie - ohjesuswept - i think -” johnny swallows the low moan trying to crawl out of his chest as your head bobs lower, taking more of his cock in your mouth as you hollow your cheeks and suck. it’s a dirty trick, one that’s made him pull the trigger prematurely before. god he loves you for it, you filthy wee minx.

(if he didn’t have a little box in his jacket pocket waiting for him back at the table he swears hand tae god that he’d propose right here right now in this tiny cubicle with the toilet paper dispenser as his witness.)

you pull off with a slick pop and wipe at your messy mouth, smearing the gloss on your lips as you do.

“what?” you arch a brow as you fist his cock with the same hand. you know him well enough that unless he calls his safeword (children’s feet, if you’re curious) he always wants you to continue somehow. he loves riding that edge of ohgodyes and ohgodtoomuchtoomuch.

johnny hisses as you do that clever little twist of the wrist and his dick throbs. no, not throbs, burns. (oh great, now he sounds like one of those wankers from that fucking show you like, the one with the period dresses and shagging. not that he watched it and heckled lord whatshisface’s technique as you battered him with a throw cushion.)

“seriously johnny, what?” you squeeze the base of his cock a little meanly (in his opinion) and pout. “do you want me to stop or -”

“no, no, no. keep goin’ bonnie, please.” johnny cuts you off to beg. fuck it, he’s had worse in the field (and god knows he’s twisted enough that the whole burnin’ boaby situation is actually getting his motor running more).

you squint up at him suspiciously before shuffling on your knees slightly, getting as comfortable as you possibly can on the uneven tiled surface.

“fine, but be quick. i’m positive your mum knows what we’re up to in here.”

johnny is pretty sure he looks like a stupid bobble head with how fervently he’s nodding but he couldn’t give a single solitary shit as you lean forward and swallow him down. (he’s not ashamed that he has to squeeze his eyes closed to stop himself from going off like a rocket. you’d given him permission to be quick but he’s still got to have a measure of pride.)

the filthy wet sounds of you gagging on his cock makes johnny’s toes curl in his shoes and he swears his hands move on their own to cup the back of your head to hold you in place. (just for a moment, he’s no’ a monster. it just feels so good.)

he feels you swallow and hears you whine through your nose. chancing a glance down, johnny groans loudly as he meets your teary eyes before he guides you off his cock so that you can suck in a grateful breath of air or two. (okay so maybe the moment was slightly longer than a moment but he challenges any man to resist.)

you cough and splutter before you squirm in his grip. johnny loosens his hold on your head and moves one of his hands to pump his cock furiously, the ruddy tip resting on your plump (seriously, he swears it’s plumper than usual) bottom lip.

fuck, his dick is so sensitive, burning hot under his hand – even with the rapidly cooling saliva, precum, and gloss still slicking the length of it. johnny fists his cock and shudders out a long moan as you open your mouth and stretch your tongue out to lick at him. (another dirty trick, and not one he’s shown you. he’d send flowers to the person or persons who’d taught you to flick your tongue along his frenulum if it wouldn’t be weird. ah well, maybe he’ll buy gaz a pint the next time he sees him.)

johnny knows he’s babbling utter bollocks through gritted teeth and gasping like a fish out of water as sweat beads along his hairline. he’s so fucking close to coming his brains out in this little cubicle as he gazes down at you.

you’re a fucking vision on your knees. it’s not the way you fidget slightly, pressing your thighs together hoping for friction, or even the way your mouth looks swollen and spit-and-precum-slicked that causes johnny to come with a harsh grunt onto your waiting tongue. (he’ll never admit it out loud but it’s your eyes. it’s the mischievous twinkle in your dilated pupils that tells him that you’re loving this as much as he is. his partner in crime.)

“fuckin’ hell hen, yer gonny kill me.” johnny pants as his knees wobble like a newborn foal, phosphenes blurring the self-satisfied smirk on your shiny lips when he’s finally able to focus on you.

you lick your lips and johnny grunts as his cock gives a feeble twitch even as it softens in his grasp. hells bloody bells, his dick is still throbbing and he muffles a whimper when you lean forward to blow cool air on it.

“jesus christ!”

“sensitive?” you ask as you get to your feet, moving to tuck johnny back into his trousers.

christ, the fabric of his boxers chafes something fierce. johnny’s so distracted by adjusting the front of his underwear that he almost misses the loud bangs on the cubicle door.

“john! fer god’s sake get back oot here! yer maw’s got intae the red wine!”

johnny shoots you a panicked look and reaches over to clap his sticky palm over your mouth seconds before you burst into inappropriate laughter. your eyes light up and johnny schools his face into the one his maw used to give him when he’d tromp through the house in his mucky boots (and god isn’t that a horrible thought? he always thought when he’d get older he’d become like his auld da), a slow stern shake as you waggle your eyebrows.

“aye, aye ‘m comin’, keep yer hair oan!” johnny calls through the door.

“now, john!”

you wriggle your tongue in between johnny’s fingers (gross!) and flip the lock on the cubicle door, pushing it open to saunter past his auld da with a cheerful “he’ll just be a minute!” leaving johnny to face his da with his belt still hanging loose around his hips.

“yer flying a wee bit low there son.” johnny’s da clears his throat uncomfortably and unsubtly waves his hand towards johnny’s groin.

“aye, cheers.” johnny mutters as his ears turn red, fumbling to zip up his flies and buckle his belt.

–

back at the table johnny fidgets uncomfortably, discreetly adjusting himself under the cloth napkin on his lap. seriously, what the fuck is going on with his dick? it feels exactly like the time he pinched his sister’s original source shower gel. or like how his lips felt after he stolen your lip gl–

johnny turns his head and squints at your lips. they’re shiny again with a fresh application of gloss. oh you wee terror. so that was the reason you didn’t argue about joining him in the toilets this time.

johnny leans over to nuzzle at your cheek, taking a moment to murmur in your ear.

“i ken about the gloss.”

you pull back, those gorgeous lips of yours twitching to stop from grinning at his predicament before leaning back so that you can murmur your reply, your breath tickling the shell of his ear.

“good. oh and johnny?”

“mm?”

“i found the ring.”

johnny grins so wide that his cheeks hurt.

aye, he’s a very lucky man.

#john soap mactavish x reader #john mactavish x reader #soap x reader #tw semi public sex

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soulfulazrael · 2 months ago

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Stolas and Stella. Shallow conflict that could be so much more. Conflict of two Hells and torment of the immortal.

So... another post that probably will be another long Yap fest of a weirdo who has only the brainpower to make threads on a cartoon. Eh. Could be worse. My drive to make this post was sparked by this one image (or well... two).

Great... Very subtle... Deserves a medal don't you think? Ah well. Today's subject as you can tell from the image presented here is RELATIONSHIPS! Or rather one set of relationships that has been bothering me and inspired me to do better in my own work based on this show. This disaster that is the Stella/Stolas/Octavia dynamic is one huge problem in my eyes and I will explain that below with some thoughts of mine and why this particular image sparked such vitriol in my peanut brain.

I think the biggest and most noticeable problem that can be seen straight away in this one picture and entire show that... it is just so damn simple. Way too simple and 1 dimensional which this show tries to parade as something meaningful and deep. I mean one look at it and you can see all of the problems. Stella is made into a laughing all evil bastard. Octavia FOR SOME REASON is just angry at Stolas and makes a mean face which makes no sense given how they interact. And Stolas is presented as some tragic, deeply hurt figure when he is in fact the architect of most of his own miseries, but the show seems to believe in that horseshait.

And at first one who only has this picture as any sort of context may say that "It's okay. The wife is obviously an evil capital B, but the daughter in this whole equation adds to the complexity and the feeling of that the dad also screwed up heavily".

Except to anyone who actually watched the show this makes no sense because Octavia has literally NO reason to ever side or ignore her mother's stupid and malicious behavior. It's one thing where you want to include a complex dynamic where the sides are more blurred and another where you make one side so obviously WORSE. Not to mention stupid and seemingly unable to hide any of their douchebaggery.

And it's another issue of the show as a whole where it just cannot for the life of it have complex antagonists and most of them are pretty much the same damn archetype. Both shows do that in fact. Because both HH and HB work in the same way. They all have the same kind of snickering abuser who loves to torment their victim and they are about as smart as average Twitter Blue buyer. I mean can you tell me ANY sort of difference between someone like Val, Stella, Crim or Mammon? Any of them? Besides their designs and people they abuse? You probably have to think it through and I think it goes to show how all of them are so damn similar to each other. To the point where they are all almost exactly the same boring character.

And funny thing is? It didn't have to be this way. And this second image feels like more of an insult for two reasons.

Still not perfect, but it's better somewhat And the reason for that is... it feels like actually a bit subtle. You have less cramming in of how terrible Stella is. Octavia being a more oblivious child and Stolas while caring for her being more absent minded. That creates an interesting dynamic and Stella has some air of mystery to her where she can be taken in many directions.

They just chose the absolute dumbest one. And that's why this image makes me mad. It shows they COULD do better, but choose not to and that this art serves no other purpose than just to say STELLA LE BAD. And they have no other agenda with it. No other way to interpret it because of that second stupid one. It narrows and destroys so much potential. Almost as much as that picture of baby Stella from Circus.

And I think another big issue I kind of mentioned before is this parade of complexity. It wants to put on facade of being complex and having something to say, but it really doesn't. It provides a very simple and dumbed down story with clear good and bad side where one side is cartoonishly evil to the point of being moronic while other one is paraded as a victim to end all victims and they put in a dress of sad crying scenes and the daughter being pissed for no reason at clearly good party because the idiotic plot demands it.

And other big issue... Is that this does not explore ANY interesting ideas. No interesting dynamics. No interesting implications or provides any sort of value to the world or explores anything in this world of HELL. Where you can make the world feel wild and interesting and the ways this world shaped those people. The ways those people are broken. The ways you can expand on this conflict beyond the surface level idiocy.

And I want here to present an example of a story rather similar... that did this right. So right it's almost comedic. I am talking about a story of Bloody Baron from Witcher 3 so for all people who did not play this almost 10 year old game (holy shit W3 came out almost 10 years ago... Can you slow down time?) then I must warn you. For the rest who did play or don't care. Enjoy.

Seems appropriate. Bloody Baron questline is probably one of the most impactful, complex and interesting conflicts I've seen in any game. A story of abuse, trauma and pain in a family of Bloody Baron, his wife Anna and daughter Tamara. amazing writing, great voice acting, great characters all that good stuff. But let me tell you why it's so good.

First off. The characters. They are all very well written and are very believable. Bloody Baron especially is a sad mess of a man. An ex veteran, drunkard and abuser who tries to find his wife and their daughter she took with her when she escaped from him after their recent fight. A fact Geralt is not aware of, one of many he and us by extension are not aware of.

This may already sound rather familiar and stay with me because it gets better. What works so well with character of Bloody Baron is that while he is at first a completely unlikeable person that gets worse over time as you discover more filth in his story, he is also extremely human. He is no caricature and you can tell why he became the way he is and you can tell he is full of great regrets and despite his actions still holds a lot of love for both his daughter and wife. He is someone who did terrible things to his family, someone very rash and very brutal, but he is not a total and complete monster. He watched his own other child die partially as a consequence of his own actions. Lost his family. He lost almost everything besides an army of men that couldn't give less of a shit about him and a home in a dreadful swamp full of monsters. His character greatly explores the mind of someone very broken, someone who lost himself to alcohol and ended up making a ton of terrible mistakes and now tries to atone for them. But we also see in flashbacks that he can be also a caring man as he helped Ciri and little girls she saved. He is no less of a terrible person because of it, but it adds humanity to him.

And other two characters in this do not fall far behind as well. Anna especially is also a very broken shell of a person. And despite what one may think she is also not innocent in all of this as she is someone who first cheated on the Baron after he went out to war. Leaving him for some other man as he was putting his life on the line for them (while also falling to alcoholism as well). And when she was confronted about it and when her lover got slaughtered by Baron she broke and started to try to kill him and herself which started the abuse from Baron who only found this to be a good way to calm her down and Anna herself was a clearly traumatized woman who was now in a cage with the Baron.

And in between all of that was a young, very scared child of both. Tamara who saw only the abuse her mother received and felt like it was all her father's fault for everything breaking apart around them and eventually devoting herself to group of Eternal Flame as a way of handling her situation. She still received lots of love from her father, but could never see him as anything less than a monster.

All of them in this scenario... probably feel oddly familiar. And it's funny because in many ways they ARE like Stolas and Stella and Octavia. But roles are somewhat moved and the conflicts feel far more real. Tamara is not for some reason seeing the abuser as lesser evil seemingly. She sees the abuse, but doesn't know a full story much like Geralt or anyone else. Baron in this case is in many ways like Stella. He is someone who abuses their partner and goes into violent rage when they leave them, but unlike Stella you can tell there is this lingering love for his family that further fuels this abuse and brings more pain to everyone while Anna is a broken mess of a woman who cheated on her husband and paid terrible price for it and kept paying as... she sold her upcoming child to terrible witches. Or rather she wished for it to die and for it sold her soul.

And this I think is what makes this story all the stronger. It's not just the tragedy or realism. It's how it ties into the world of Witcher as a whole where we are introduced to some of the most harrowing set pieces of the game and some of the most disturbing villains in the game who also simply act upon their nature as deal makers with Anna and simply know something about Geralt's own daughter Ciri (who they tried to eat). It expands the world and uses it in a meaningful way and pushes more interesting ideas like the side of Anna caring for children at the swamp that are meant to be devoured by witches. Another Hell that ends either with her complete breakdown or death, but also either suicide of the Baron or redemption as he tries to save her and no longer drink or abuse her. While Tamara no matter what has to also face her own consequences of having to forever be tied to Endless Flame, but also putting faith in her father in the good ending and possibly ending with their relationship beginning to heal.

And all of that feels natural. This kind of story definitely can be told anywhere, this kind of story doesn't need this setting, but it further enriches it. And I think another big part of this story I like is that it doesn't try to paint any side as being in the RIGHT. Because in this kind of situation NO PARTY is in the right... And as someone who did went through similar thing... I respect that. And that is why I cannot accept what HB does. In this situation there are no good guys or bad guys... Just people who keep making mistakes (and don't worry, family may be a bit broken, but I still love both my parents no matter how far one may be).

And it is funny because story of Bloody Baron in many ways is how the whole situation with Octavia and her family SHOULD look like. A very harrowing story where there is no place for good or bad sides. Where you have to choose FOR YOURSELF who is more at fault. And the game leaves that decision to you. It does not tell you what to think. It tells you to think. One of the writers who made that whole story said once "I do not like likeable characters. I like interesting characters". And I think that is also where the writing suffers. It tries to paint one side as "likeable", but because of that it removes so much complexity from the character by excusing all of their awful behavior or painting them as ultimate victim. And do not try to tell me also that because Stella is so easy to hate then they are well written. That's not true. Making hateable character is the easiest thing in the world. Just put everything bad in them and make them not like protagonist and oppose them. That's it. It's lazy.

And that also makes me so mad about HB because they were CLOSE to making something good. Not exactly the same as Bloody Baron, but something of it's own that could also be good.

I personally make a fic called "Song for the Quiet Bird". There I partially explore characters of Stolas and Stella and Octavia and I try to paint the entire situation in a more gray light where each side is not truly in the right. Where both of them are in their own ways broken people. And to do so I also try to use something I wish Viv used which is Immortality of Ars Goetia which could have been a thing, but Viv decided to make Stolas like 30 because then you have cute Stolas and Blitzo arts as kids.

In my version both have lived already for 800 years. They lived already for a long time and there is eternity waiting ahead and both cope in their own ways that were taught to them by the world of Hell to not lose themselves to eternity. Stolas is a selfish hedonist who cares the most about his own pleasures and even though he cares for Octavia it is very easy for him to lose himself in his own desires and pleasures as he mostly cares for himself the most and anything that is extension of him. Meanwhile Stella is a cold, distant and very duty focused character. Someone who while trains Octavia for the longest time does not involve herself too much with her own daughter, barely seeing her as one. Someone entirely focused on the prosperity of the family as a whole, someone who does not believe in value of individuality or personal joy and instead focuses on the good of everything else solely. This good being judged by her and her views that value subjugation and order compared to Stolas's love for chaos and selfish freedom.

In this case both sides are very broken. They both have to live through their own Hells made by their own choices that add to the fact they were born into the world of Hell. Neither one can really truly coexist with each other and both long ago abandoned any hope for true understanding. And in all of that the only real victim and good party you can find is Octavia. A person who suffers because of this clash of ideals and has to cope in her own way with suffering both she and her parents go through. All of them suffering.

That's at least how I write it. Something where you cannot pin to one side being terrible or evil. Just everyone being broken in a terrible world you have to fight with to make something better and both in a way... gave up. Until of course Moxxie comes along there for Stella and his presence helps her develop... but that's another thing.

I also have some quotes below from my fic to show my approach to both Stella and Stolas as characters. First one is Stolas and Octavia having a chat in the most recent chapter.

And here below is a scene between Stella and Moxxie where there is some discussion about theatre plays of Hell and difference between human and hellish ones delving into also her own view of the world (this IS a Stella/Moxxie crackship fic... just a big slowburn). From one of the earlier chapters.

Both I think probably show their own deep flaws and ways of coping with their own realities.

Now I don't say I want my ideas to be in the show, but more complex ones. Ones that are not just this... thing we've been fed for all of Season 2 and partially in Season 1 which could have been taken in a better direction, but it never was and just like one image here ruins another, here season 2 retroactively ruins the 1st one. Stella/Stolas/Octavia dynamic just has potential to be so much more than... whatever HB is now.

Well that was stupidly long and I can't imagine many people getting here, but hey. I wrote it and it's already too long to not post it. To whoever came this far I thank you and hope you will leave your opinion on this manifesto. Hope it was entertaining at least.

#helluva boss #hazbin hotel #helluva boss critical #helluva boss criticism #vivziepop critical #vivziepop criticism #hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel criticism #fanfic #helluva boss rewrite #helluva boss critique #witcher 3 #too long #God help me I have no life

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sumbarbietingz · 30 days ago

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My bodyguard (+18)

Pic credit: Cinnabus on Twitter and inspiration for the story

• One shot smut, bodyguard!tojixblack!fem character, brat taming, age diff, foreplay, hair pulling, choking, degradation and praise, rough sex, squirting, creampie •

• Words count: 4,7k •

(The nword is said sometimes, I’m black yall no worries😭)

By the way, this is my first fanfic in years and my first smut ever so be kind😭 sorry for the potential grammatical errors too! And I just got off my period I'm horny as a bitch so eh you already know

Mazikeen or Maze Washington is a spoiled brat from a rich family. Her father Sean Washington is a rich and famous businessman who’s a ruthless man at work, but somehow, unable to handle his 21 yo daughter. For her safety, she has to go outside the house with a bodyguard at any time, but Maze always manages to make the man quit his job, that’s how unbearable she is. That poor Sean can’t even count how many bodyguards Maze had. And he knows she’s doing it on purpose because she absolutely hates having someone following her 24/7, he understands how annoying it must be but no matter how many times he tries to reason with her, she just doesn’t give a flying fuck. One day his associate talks about this very effective bodyguard that would be perfect for Maze and won’t put up with her bullshit. Despite being kind of doubtful he still takes the shot and contacts him, at this point, he ain’t got nothing to lose. A few days later after an interview and everything that comes with it, Toji becomes Maze’s new bodyguard, and Sean deeply hopes that he will be able to handle her. After making him sign his contract, he texts her to come downstairs and meet her new bodyguard. After something like 10 minutes, she still takes her sweet ass time to walk down the steps. As she goes down, she notices the man next to her father. And Jesus Christ, he’s probably the most handsome man she has ever seen. He’s so huge and muscular, he got on a tight ass black shirt that molds his huge pecs and his 6 pack abs perfectly. His arms would probably crush a watermelon too. She turns her attention back to her father before she gets too flustered.

Maze: "Who’s that?"

Sean: "Toji Fushiguro, your new bodyguard"

Maze dramatically groans. When is it gonna end?!

Maze: "Ugh! Dad really?"

Sean: sighs "Yes young lady. And trust me this one is very different from the others."

She rolls her eyes. She won’t argue cause deep down she knows it’s gonna end up the same way. She shrugs

Maze: "Okay whatever"

Sean turns to Toji

Sean: "I’m counting on you Toji. Take care of her and don’t be intimidated by her bratty behavior"

Toji nods

Toji: "No worries sir Washington, it won’t be an issue"

Sean nods and leaves them to go back to his office. Toji has been looking at Maze the whole time. Her outfit leaves not much to the imagination. It’s a tight and short jumpsuit that has a deep cleavage on it. She’s an absolute bombshell. Her brown skin is so clear and looks smooth, her facial features are beautiful, her curly hair is in a high ponytail, and her curves? Her boobs would probably still be too big for his huge hands, she got these childbearing hips… and the fact that she’s a bratty little bitch will make everything more fun. Maze notices how he looks at her and raises an eyebrow

Maze: "The fuck you’re looking at nigga?"

Toji chuckles. Ohhh this is gonna be fun

Toji: "I can’t look at you when you got an outfit that shows your tits almost completely? I might be your bg, but I’m still a man and I got eyes."

Maze huffs. He got some audacity

Maze: "Well you should stop. It’s weird as fuck."

Toji: "Look who’s talking. I saw you checking me out when you were walking down the stairs. I know you like what you see"

She rolls her eyes. Ugh was it that obvious? She shrugs it off

Maze: "tsk. Whatever. I wanna go shopping"

She starts walking towards the door of the mansion and Toji follows behind her. As he finally gets to see her from the back, his suspicions are confirmed. By seeing her hips he figured that she had a fat ass too and boy she had one. Every step she makes makes her shit bounce and recoil. It looks so… fuckable… he licks his lips thinking about what kind of fun they could have but his main priority is still to protect her.

After a while, they’re at the mall, and she obviously attracts all the attention. From her skimpy outfit revealing her luscious body, to her Hermes purse, her ridiculously big and shiny Rolex with red rubies on the bezel, the last iPhone she keeps her eyes on… everything screams that she’s a walking bank account. She already went to at least 5 boutiques, from regular stores to buy skimpy outfits to designer ones to get new shoes or bags. Toji had to deal with her bratty behavior the entire time, but he still does his job and scans his surroundings for potential threats, but it’s becoming hard to do so when two gigantic cheeks are hitting each other and basically begging him to grab and smack them, it’s like her ass got a mind on its own. He takes a deep breath and tries to not think about clapping her ass chee-

Maze: "Hey you." She turns around and stops walking

Toji slightly shakes his head getting out of his naughty thoughts

Toji: "What’s up?"

She hands him her bags

Maze: "Take ‘em"

He raises an eyebrow

Toji: "I’m your bodyguard, not your butler princess"

"Princess". God why does she loves that pet name and the way it rolls off his tongue so effortlessly?

Maze: "Okay but take it. You’re still my employee"

He crosses his arms

Toji: "I’m your father's employee, not yours. You won’t boss me around like you did with your previous weaklings and the people around you."

Maze: "Listen up Tijo."

Toji rolls his eyes again

Toji: "It’s Toji."

Maze: "Tai chi or whatever. Your broke ass got a job because of me, so be thankful that you’ll get to pay your bills this month and grab my goddamn bags."

Toji is starting to lose patience. He doesn’t respond, cause if he does, he’ll probably say something that will get him fired on his first day. So he simply stares at Maze and she stares back, for at least a good minute. Eventually, she huffs and grabs her phone from her purse.

Toji: "What are you doing?"

Maze keeps her attention to her phone

Maze: "Getting an Uber. I’m going to my friend’s house. I’m out of here."

Toji huffs

Toji: "Are you throwing a tantrum over the fact that I won’t take your bags?"

Maze: "Shut up old man. I wanted to do that anyway."

Toji rolls his eyes

Toji: "Why are you taking an Uber? I can get you there"

Maze: "Because I don’t want you to come with me OBVIOUSLY" She shakes her head in disbelief as if it was absolutely obvious that she doesn’t want him to come with her

Toji: "Yeah. It’s not gonna happen princess. I’m your bodyguard and your father said-"

She cuts him off

"I don’t care what my dad says. I don’t your creepy old ass up my ass 24/7. Nigga go take care of your kids and wife instead, you old bitch."

Toji stays silent. This bratty attitude was fun for a moment but now she’s really starting to push his buttons. He didn’t want to do this now but it’s time for the spoiled little princess to learn her lesson. He grabs her wrist and drags her outside the mall towards the nearest hotel he can find despite her resistance and protests.

Maze: "What the hell?! Let go of me you-"

Toji cuts her off

Toji: "Could you shut the fuck up for once in your goddamn life?"

Maze grunts and tries to get off his grip but goddamnit he’s so strong, and resisting just makes her wrist hurt more so she gives up and lets him drag her wherever he wants to go. They arrive at a quite luxurious hotel and the receptionist makes a confused face when he sees them. Toji asks for a room and of course, tells Maze to pay for it. Once it’s done he drags her again towards the room in question. He opens the door and pushes her inside as he closes the door behind them. She stumbles and drops her bags and purse on the floor. She barely has time to react when Toji comes behind her, grabs her by her throat and at the base of her ponytail, and approaches her ear.

Toji: "Listen. Your dad pays me an insane amount of money to make sure his stupid spoiled bitch daughter doesn’t end up dead. You’re not gonna fuck up my bag. If that means fucking your brains out until you behave, then this is what I’m gonna do"

She gasps when she feels his hands on her and she can feel her pussy getting wetter from hearing him. She loves how he manhandles her. The smell of his cologne fills her nose, his warm breath sends a shiver down her spine… she bites her lip in anticipation. Toji notices that and chuckles

Toji: "You like this don’t you? Being tamed by a strong man like me who knows how to handle little bitches like you mmh?"

She nods, she always had a degradation and praise kink and hearing him right now was pure bliss to her. He whispers in her ear

Toji: "Say it"

She feels weak, she licks her upper lip as she responds, her voice a bit shaky

Maze: "I love when real men like you handle bitches like me…"

God she could feel herself getting wetter by saying that. Toji hums in satisfaction, his excitement growing in his pants and against her ass. He lets go of her hair and neck and pushes her cleavage down, revealing her big breasts. He growls as he starts playing with them

Maze moans softly, her titties have always been a sensitive part of her body and she loves when they get attention. She can feel Toji’s big hands massaging her boobs and it just feels so good. Then he starts playing with her nipples and she can’t help but moan a little louder

Toji can feel himself getting harder as he listens to her, her moans sound like harmony as he plays with these sensitive little nipples. They’re so small, it’s cute to him. Then he lifts her tit towards her mouth

Toji: "Lick."

She automatically listens to him, lowers her head, and starts licking her nipple, her tongue swirling on it. Toji groans at the scene before him and joins her. His tongue finding the sensitive skin along with Maze’s tongue. They keep touching each other and she feels like she’s going to explode. The sensation of his tongue against hers as they both dance on her nipple is driving her crazy and she can feel her panties getting drenched. Then he grabs her boob in his mouth and tugs at it before releasing it with a pop. He turns Maze around and sees her half lidded eyes. He can tell how badly she wants him.

Toji: "On your knees." He orders

She nods and does what he tells her to do. He looks down at her, looking at this needy expression on her face, she looks so fucking hot, looking like that on her knees. He doesn’t even need to tell her what to do that she’s already undressing him. Mmm, what a cock hungry slut.

She pulls his grey sweatpants and boxers down and she almost yells when she sees it. Her jaw drops to the floor. She can’t believe this size exists in real life. It’s not only long, but it’s also thick as hell and the veins are pulsing, it’s the kind of dick that will stretch you out. She looks down and sees that his balls are twice the size of ping-pong balls. Oh, Christ can she really handle all that?

Toji notices her reaction and chuckles. It’s the same thing every time a woman sees him for the first time. He knows she’s probably asking herself how she’s gonna fit everything in

Toji: "Are you planning to suck my dick or you’re gonna stay with your mouth agape the whole day?"

She shakes her head and braces herself. She starts giving kisses along the length, the head, the frenulum, taking her time. Toji sighs softly, loving how she’s not directly sucking it and going crazy on him yet. After a while she’s licking his head and frenulum, sucking his cock, struggling to go all the way in so she uses her hands to stroke the part she can’t reach, and sucks the other half, saliva already dripping from her mouth

Toji groans, his hand reaching the base of her ponytail again

Toji: "Pretty sure you can do better than that princess. Show me how these dick sucking lips and that long tongue of yours can do"

All this dirty talk turns her on so badly, but he’s right. She has enough experience to know that she can do better than that but good luck going all the way down with that monster dick. She braces herself again and forces herself to take him deeper, the tip of his cock already triggering her sensitive gag reflex. All it takes is two back and forth and her tears are already leaving her eyes, ruining her makeup. She gags but keeps going, the saliva drenching his dick and her cheeks. She looks at him with half lidded eyes, a runny nose, and makeup ruined by tears.

Toji growls with pleasure and seeing her in that state is not only hot as fuck, but also hella satisfying. Seeing that bratty bitch in such a submissive state fills him with joy.

Toji: "Look at you. Do you still think you can boss me around? Mmm… we might do this more often. Seems like this mouth ain’t only good for talking shit but also for giving good blowjobs uh princess?"

If she wasn’t using her hands to support herself she would’ve already started rubbing her aching clit. Now she decides to go all the way. She goes back and forth faster, twisting her head while doing so, gaging again and again as she groans and makes aggressive, almost animalistic slurping and sucking sounds to the point it sounds like she’s speaking in tongues, making his dick dripping with saliva. With her hand, she cups and plays with his massive balls already slick with spit.

Toji pants from the sensations and the sounds, this is the best neck he had in a while and all these slurping, sucking, and groaning sounds are gonna make him cum too quickly.

Toji: panting "Alright stop princess, get in the bed and undress."

She takes his dick out of her mouth, strings of saliva linking his dick to her lips. She’s panting a bit, her already plump lips swollen, the bottom red… she looks an absolute mess. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand and stands up, her legs feeling a bit weak from being on her knees. She walks towards the bed and takes her shoes off, and once she’s sitting she takes off her jumpsuit. Not only she didn’t have a bra (which is understandable with that outfit) but she also had no panties on. Toji observes her body, it looks even better naked. It takes everything in him to not just fuck her right there and then, but for some reason he wants her to enjoy it too even though she doesn’t deserve it after being such a bitch to him all day. He takes off his clothes too and Maze feels like a dog in heat when she sees him fully naked. He looks like a fucking Greek god. Everything about him is perfect. His face, his body, his XXL monster dick… she can feel her pussy throbbing in anticipation. Toji comes to the bed on top of her, his huge body caging her much smaller one. His hand starts caressing her waist, the touch making her shiver. Before she can say anything his lips finally find hers, and she moans once she gets to know what he tastes like. Toji kisses her slowly and sensually as he tastes the both of them. His tongue quickly finds hers again as they dance together, a slow dance quickly turning into a battle for dominance. Maze grips his broad shoulders, fuck she wants more of him, she needs so much more… she feels him tugging on her bottom lip with his teeth, which makes her aching for his touch even more. And suddenly she feels his hand leaving her waist to caress his way to her dripping wet core. She shivers in excitement then lets out a gasp that’s followed by a moan once his fingers start rubbing her clit in slow, circular motions.

Maze: "Mmmh…. fuck… Toji…."

Toji: "So now you know my name uh?"

Maze can’t respond, she suddenly feels embarrassed for pretending to not know when now she’s moaning the very name she was disrespecting. All she can do is moan.

Toji kisses and licks her neck as he keeps playing with her little pussy.

Toji: "You want more?"

Maze simply nods, and then he suddenly stops to grab her hips and flips her on her stomach, causing her to gasp in surprise. The first thing he does is finally grab this fat ass of hers. This is exactly how he imagined. It’s like squeezing two giant marshmallows. Her ass is so soft and he feels like he can play with that shit for hours. He grabs it, smacks it, and makes it recoil… fuck it feels like Jell-O in his hands. Maze on the other hand moans from the attention he’s giving to her.

Toji: "Get on your hands and knees."

She happily does as he says and arches her back. The way that drives her hookups insane. Toji curses under his breath and admires the work of art in front of him. Asses tends to look bigger in backshots but now? Her shit just straight up looks like two planets. And the way she arches her back? He’s wondering how is it even possible. He runs his hand on her ass and her back, enjoying the smoothness of her skin. In those moments he’s always glad to have a big dick because there are no issues of slipping out when dealing with a big butt. He grabs his dick and starts grinding it between her cheeks, his other hand resting on her hip.

Maze: "Please put it in me…" She begs, her voice almost a whisper as she looks over her shoulder, she’s so horny right now she might cry if she doesn’t get dicked down in the next few seconds. Toji chuckles and slides his dick on her pussy lips, the tip of his cock making out with her slick folds. Maze can’t take all of this teasing anymore. She needs him BADLY. She lets out a soft whimper

Maze: "God please Toji… I need you right now…"

Toji: "Seems like you know how to ask for something uh? Beg for me princess and I’ll give you what you need."

She takes a deep breath, she’s never felt so submissive in her life, and she sure liked that. She looks into his eyes, they’re pleading

Maze: "Please Toji, please… I’m begging you… please fuck me… I need you inside me so badly…"

Toji hums in satisfaction

Toji: "Good girl."

Finally, he starts sliding himself inside of her, and she’s so wet that it comes in easily. ‘Fuck she’s so tight’ is what he’s thinking as he dives deeper and deeper inside of her. Maze gasps in pleasure as she feels herself getting penetrated. ‘God he’s so big’ is what she’s thinking as she grips the sheets to steady herself.

Toji starts rocking his hips slowly against hers, feeling the way her tight vagina swallows him. He grunts as he hears her beautiful moans filling the room. Shortly after his pace increases, causing her to moan louder. And mind you, he’s not even fully inside her. Maze feels so good right now she can’t think about anything else but Toji giving her pleasure.

Toji: "You know I’m not all the way in right?"

And when he says that her eyes widen in shock. What do you mean he’s not fully inside her when she feels already so full?! She thought that she might have heard him wrong but no she heard that correctly. She looks over her shoulder, a face of confusion and pleasure greeting him

Toji: "You heard me. Why do you think this ass of yours is not making any noise yet?"

Damn she knew that something was kinda off. He’s really not joking. Toji has that smug look on his face

Toji: "Think you can handle it and take it like a good girl princess?"

Maze hesitates. He’s only halfway there and she already feels full as hell. But she’s not a punk. She can take it. So she nods and Toji smirks. He smacks her ass and then pushes inside, making him groan deeply and Maze almost cries out in pain and pleasure. She can’t even think about saying something that he starts going faster and harder

Toji: "That’s it. Take that fucking dick."

Maze moans louder than before as she feels Toji kissing her cervix, her moans are a mix of pain and pleasure as she feels him violating her insides. Nobody ever reached that spot and now she feels like her brain is melting. All she can do is moan and repeat the same words like a mantra ‘Oh yes, fuck, Toji, oh my god, it feels so good’ Toji looks at the way her ass bounces and makes waves from the contact of his hips, the view along with the sensation of being balls deep inside her and her loud moans make his cock twitch. He grabs and smacks her ass, his pace doesn’t decrease a bit

Toji: "You thought you could boss me around? You thought you could treat me like shit?"

Maze can’t help but moan in response, she’s unable to talk, and the pleasure overtakes her mind and body. Toji grabs her ponytail and pulls her head down. She cries out when she feels her hair being pulled, she loves that shit.

Toji: "Answer me bitch."

When he calls her a bitch, she can feel herself tightening around him. She’s barely able to form a proper sentence as she replies to him, almost mumbling

Maze: "N-no… I’m sorry Toji…" once it’s finally out she keeps moaning in pleasure, she doesn’t remember the last time a man has ever made her feel that good. Toji starts going harder, the tip of his dick slamming her cervix in violent thrusts. Maze can’t help but moan louder and louder, her already ruined makeup from the blowjob getting even more messier as tears start rolling down her face. Toji grunts as he feels how tighter she’s getting from his talk and his thrusts. She makes him feel so fucking good

Toji: "You’re still gonna act like a bratty little bitch towards me Mazikeen?" He says as he keeps giving her these punishing and powerful thrusts

She can feel herself getting tighter again as he calls her by her full name. She feels like her soul has left her body from the amount of raw pleasure Toji is giving her

Maze: "I won’t be… i promise" she mumbles out

Toji: "From now on you’re gonna stop being a pain in the ass, you’re gonna let me do my fucking job and respect me got it?" His voice is deeper than usual, the pleasure and physical effort can be heard.

All she can do is agree with him. She doesn’t have the strength to be defiant anymore with the way he fucks her so good. Toji chuckles and holds her ponytail tighter

Toji: "Look at you unable to fucking talk. Thought you could take it princess?" He taunts. All she can do is moan.

Toji: "See how it feels like to get fucked by an ‘old man’? You see the difference between me and the losers you be having?" He says his hips still slamming against her ass

Maze can only nod as she looks at the ceiling. She had good sex before but like he said, he’d fuck her brains out and this is exactly what he’s doing. She has a dumb look on her face as she takes every inch of his dick in her dripping cunt.

Toji: "You’ve never had anyone fuck you dumb like this uh? But you let that the same bodyguard you called 'creepy old and broke’ give you the best fuck of your life uh?"

God if he doesn’t shut up… all of his dirty talk is gonna make her cum very soon if he doesn’t shut the fuck up. Toji can feel himself getting close as well so he lets go of her hair to grab her ass tighter as he keeps pounding the fuck out of Maze.

Toji: "Im gonna cum princess. And just so you know, I’m not planning to pull out"

Maze feels her heart beating faster. She’s not on birth control and the idea of Toji cuming in her is terrifying but also very exciting.

Maze: "I-I’m not on bc…" she moans out

Toji: "Then pray you won’t get knocked up by your bodyguard" he replies as he keeps fucking her. He can feel her getting tighter again, the idea of him spilling his cum in her is probably very appealing to her. She wants it as much as he wants it.

Toji: "That would be too bad if you got knocked up by your bodyguard right princess? What would your father think uh" Maze bites her lip, why is he talking about that when she’s a few thrusts away from cuming?

Maze: "Don’t talk about him now…" she moans out, feeling closer and closer to the edge. Toji chuckles

Toji: "Once I cum in you, you’re mine got it? Only I get to fuck you, you heard me?"

Maze can only agree. She nods frantically as she grips the sheets so tightly she might rip them off. Toji smacks her ass hard

Toji: "Such a good little slut. Now cum for me princess. Cum on your cock"

Once she hears that it’s over. Her hand reaches her clit and all it takes is a few fast circles for her to come apart. She cries out his name loudly and she squirts all over the bedsheet, her cyprine forming a small puddle between her knees and dripping on her thighs. She sees white while she keeps panting from the intensity of the intercourse. He can’t see from his position but once she screams his name, hears something dripping on the bedsheet and feels her pussy pulsating, all it takes is a few more thrusts and he groans loudly, feeling himself spilling his cum deeply inside her, painting her cunt white. She feels the warm substance in her and she moans at the sensation, goddamn this is the hottest thing a man has ever done to her. He pulls out and they both collapse on the bed, heavily breathing from the intensity of their sex. Maze shakes a bit, feeling the cum dripping out of her. Toji lays next to her, seeing that she’s so exhausted that she apparently doesn’t mind laying on her puddle of love juice. He looks at her trembling frame, her ruined makeup and cheeks wet in tears. He smiles to himself. She’s gonna behave from now on. After a while she finally talks, her voice a bit shaky and low.

Maze: "Could you… get me a Plan B please?"

Toji smirks. She asked politely. He fucked the attitude out of her, which is gonna make his job as her bodyguard much more easier. They’re gonna have so much fun together. And he’ll probably get a promotion for finally taming his boss’ bratty daughter. That was one hell of a good first day.

Toji: "Of course princess. I’ll get you one right away"

#jjk men #jjk smut #toji fushiguro #toji smut #jujutsu kaisen toji #jjk toji

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fenrins · 5 months ago

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im gonna be a hater tonight but idc! its a lomg one but i rlly wanted to rant 😔😔

im just gonna go right in and say it: some house of the dragon characters are unoriginal and lazy, and it pisses me tf off. im sick and tired of seeing the same oc regurgitated in this fandom bc istg half of these hotd ocs are literally just daenerys targaryen thrown back in time under a different name.

i usually dont care abt fanfic because its fanfic. nothing i can do, its probably some child having fun, but like i said im just TIRED of looking through hotd fanfics and seeing daenerys pop up as a faceclaim, and then going on to see that half (or all) of dany’s entire character is put into an oc with little to no actual originality if this makes sense.

before i get into this, what the fuck happened to the originality in original character? like genuinely? this is mainly abt one oc i legit just saw like an hour ago off of tiktok bc but still this applies to the daenerys knockoffs i (regularly) see and cry abt like my grown ass should not care but i do!!!!

starting off, the oc’s name is daenera. cool! fine! she’s not a daughter of rhaenyra which is a slay, but is a daughter of alicent and viserys which eh, good enough. we go on to find out that for some reason vizzy t and ali hate her, and at age 16 they decide to ship her off to pentos so she can marry a dothraki warlord. im not even joking. aside from that, she’s in pentos for a year, and comes back with an army of 550k and three dragons. okay hello daenerys! anyways she apparently fights for rhaenyra, but also bangs aemond, daemon, and cregan in the two year timeframe that the dance takes place in.

no one is gonna read this but my ass is mad and idgaf! i need to complain!! but anyways, i am sick and tired of the ocs that are just cheap copies of daenerys because at what point is this an original character? if youre using a faceclaim of daenerys for your character and essentially adding her entire plotline onto your oc, is it even an oc anymore? like i get being inspired to base a character off of her because dany is literally the blueprint, but copy and pasting her entire character and then going off and ignoring grrm’s established lore (yes, its a fanfic, but ive seen too many oc’s claim both cannibal AND vermithor at the same time and i am TIRED) is just lazy and boring.

i wish people did more with their hotd ocs honestly. like theres hundreds of houses and shit and actual ORIGINAL ideas one could use instead of just taking dany’s whole character and just making it their own. i dont even want to start an argument with this but i NEED to see more original characters. like im writing my own two on wattpad rn (one’s a dragonseed whos like schizophrenic idk and the other’s a mormont who slays the day away) but even then i just need more than aemond x his sister or niece or smth idk yk??

im just reiterating points ive made but man its just ughhhh

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polarisbibliotheque · 8 months ago

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Can You Hear The Rumble? - Vergil x Reader

Music Inspired Fics (Devil May Music) - Cirice, by Ghost

Pairing: Vergil x Reader

Summary: Everyone knew the kind of demon a hunter should be wary about is the one who plays with their victim's minds. You and Vergil were very proud on the outside - but how would it be when having to save each other on the inside for the first time?

TRIGGER WARNING: A lot of blood, cuts, bruises, scars and suffering on both Vergil and the reader's sides. The reader also struggles with perfection and self-loathing - in a "I'm never going to be a good person" kind of way, because I needed to get more intimate on the reader's part as well - and there are scenes with the reader covered in cuts and bleeding, though not self-imposed, it could be read like that. Those scenes are the reader's and Vergil's internal images of themselves. Reader and Vergil meet each other on their imperfections and the darkest parts of their souls, so BE WARNED. This might not be everyone's cup of tea and there are lots of potential triggers.

Author's Note: @tokkis-shelf asked me if Vergil's part of the Halloween special was inspired by Cirice, and here we are now. It is what kickstarted the song-fic requests! As with a lot of people, I think, Cirice is pretty personal to me.

In the video, it was so comforting to me seeing the black sheep being represented hahahaha and I guess that's why people love it so much. The part where they hold hands? I died, I'd never let go, I cry my soul out upon watching. (I did a very similar drawing to that scene when I was in school around 15 years ago, so it drop-kicked me out of my body xD)

Now, when writing this, I kept in mind that this song has a double meaning and can be quite comforting and quite manipulative at the same time - hence why I use the "can't you see that you're lost without me?" in two different situations, 'cause I think Cirice can be interpreted in so many ways and each person takes what they need from this song. I hope you guys like it!!

Plus, the song the reader and Dante sing at the end is The Power of Love, by Huey Lewis and The News

youtube

Cirice, by Ghost

“Can’t you see that you’re lost…?”

It happened every time Vergil walked in the darkness.

That voice in the back of his head, silently taunting him, the hiss of a quiet viper in the hopes of taking him back to the darkest parts of his soul. Quiet, lurking, whispering… Mundus always there, somewhere in the folds of his consciousness, guiding him back into the void – luring Vergil back into his shackles.

“Can’t you see that you’re lost without me?”

As if Vergil couldn’t belong anywhere else, as if his place was in Hell. After all he had been through, after all the sins he perpetrated, he believed wholeheartedly there was no hope for him at all – only a fool’s hope; only a glimmer of a wish he wasn’t as tainted as he was… A desire to not be such a monster as he was.

Pacing quietly through the empty cathedral, Vergil had already learned not to give in to those thoughts – to keep them at bay, as only a whisper in the darkness, of trickster voices that would always remind him of how inhuman he was.

It was times like this Vergil longed for the faint glimmer of the moon, or the warm ghostly light of a candle. It was easy to get lost in the dark, but a single ray of light could help through the direst of situations. That night, though, it seemed like the moon had fallen asleep behind the curtains of the clouds – Selene hiding her tears for her earthly lover in his eternal sleep.

None of you knew what that night entailed – you weren’t even certain what you were dealing with. That was the reason why Lady strutted in the Devil May Cry, not too fond of taking a job she didn’t know if it was up to her abilities.

“Well, looks like I have a new one for you to pay your debt, big guy!” Her singsong voice interrupted the ambience of the jukebox; Lady entering the shop with Kalina Ann and all.

“Eh, I’m never gonna be free of my debt, Lady, let’s be honest.” Dante sighed, putting his feet down and throwing his magazine across the table, shooting her a serious glare. “But things have been borin’ lately, so one of your odd jobs’ not gonna hurt. Whaddya have for me?”

“You talk as if I never help you enough to maintain this place.” She lifted one eyebrow, approaching the big desk at the middle of the shop.

“Gotta give the woman credit, Dante. Last month’s bills were on her.” You shrugged as you had finally come out of your shower, happy to see Lady around, still drying your hair with the towel as you went down the stairs.

“See? Someone who has a bit of common sense.” Her smile was nothing short of devilish as she gestured towards you.

“You know where you are, Lady. ‘Common sense’ isn’t much of a thing in this household.” You greeted her by quickly blowing her a kiss while passing by, making your way towards the couch where Vergil was quietly reading.

“Ey, you’re hurtin’ my feelings like that.” Dante put one of his hands over his heart, laughing alongside you as you kept on your way. “But fine. I’ll give ya that, Lady. So, what’s up? What job do you wanna throw at me this time?”

“I am not throwing it at you.” And there it was: you could always see when Dante stroke a nerve when Lady got defensive and with that fiery stare on her multicolored eyes. “If you wanna do it, great, if you don’t, I can deal with it myself just fine. I’m here to be a good friend since you can barely afford all that pizza you keep stuffing yourself with!”

As you sat by Vergil’s side, you both exchanged a telling glare. Just like you, Vergil was used to observing people. Granted, he didn’t know Lady as much as Dante or even you, but he did know her since he was very young. That fiery, easy-to-anger personality had been there since they first met at the Temen-ni-gru – and Vergil argued it was one of Lady’s traits that would never change.

Something he was quite pleased with, if he had to be honest with himself. It was a good trait for a human demon hunter like her. Dante always praised human’s hearts and particularly their love and empathy – Vergil praised their burning anger that made them unconquerable in the direst of circumstances.

“Jeez, alright, alright, don’t shoot me!” Dante raised his hands as if he was at gunpoint, making you wheeze quietly. Vergil side-eyed you for a while – half judging, half holding his own laugh. “It’s not like I have much of a choice, do I?”

“Humpf.” Lady rolled her eyes and took a slice of pizza from the box resting on the desk, pointing at Dante with it right after. “You know I wouldn’t bring you something if it wasn’t important.”

“Actually, you would.” With those words, Dante rested his arms crossed on the table – all the while, you and Vergil watched it all as if it was a show. Who needed a TV when you had those two? “But you’re bein’ too dodgy ‘bout it, babe. What’s goin’ on?”

“I got a call from a priest in a city nearby.” Lady’s answer was uncharacteristically quiet, followed by a bite from the pizza while she seemed pensive and in any hurry to chew it. “I’ve done some jobs there, know the guy, he’s nice. All the times he called me, it was always a quick, good-paying job. He said some weird things have been happening at the cathedral for the last couple of weeks.”

“Not to sound mean, but there’s always somethin’ strange happenin’ at churches.” Dante’s eyes carried a bit of skepticism: ‘weird things’ didn’t always entail a job for the Devil May Cry – and it usually ended with all of you hunting a rogue raccoon or something.

“I know. But this guy, he doesn’t get scared easy, ok? He’s one of those types of priests who’ll try to shoot down a couple of demons with a shotgun and, if that doesn’t work, he gives me a call.” Those words, though, made you and the Spardas raise your eyebrows. Indeed, it was a rare type of priest, but a good one to keep as acquaintance. “He said the cathedral is increasingly quiet, even from noises outside, with occasional distant noises that are not done by any of those who live there. After it all started, the other priests reported having weird nightmares, of being chased by something in the dark, inside the cathedral – this thing whispering things they can’t understand. Alright if it happened to one or two, but soon all of them started waking up in the middle of the night with similar nightmares – and, catch this, the higher ups of the clergy didn’t tell the common priests about it, but they all reported the very same dream.” Those words caught everyone’s attention. Vergil finally closed his book and leaned forward, paying attention to Lady’s retelling of the priest’s misfortunes. “The priest has been trying to figure out what’s going on, but some old books appear to go missing from the library, only to re-appear as if nothing has happened. Some books are missing pages, something that never happened before. He also said the inside of the cathedral has been getting darker and darker as the weeks go by. As if something is approaching – his words, not mine.”

Vergil immediately furrowed his brows and seemed to turn into an ice sculpture right by your side. You risked a glance, finding him with his usual dark aura – pensive, somber and quiet; hunter’s eyes showing themselves in a matter of seconds.

“Rare are the creatures in Hell in search for knowledge…” He muttered loud enough for his brother and Lady to turn their attention to him. “But those who do, are usually among the worst. Haunting noises, torn books, nightmares, dead silence and total darkness…”

“What? You think those Hell Piranhas came out of their pit?” Dante’s question had a bit of fun in the words, but his eyes were serious and he didn’t allow his lips to smile.

“Could be. Could also be a demon trying to mimic them to hide something else.”

“Hell Piranhas?” You and Lady didn’t need a cue to ask at the very same time. Neither of you had ever heard of that – and both of you had heard of a lot.

“This is not their name, but it is how Dante calls them since we were kids.” Vergil almost sighed in response.

“How we both called ‘em. Mister smart-pants over here isn’t that much better than lil’ ol’ me.” Dante winked at both of you, making you giggle quietly in return. “They’re kinda like illusion demons, but they like stayin’ in the darkness and gatherin’ knowledge. Usually work for someone bigger, though.”

“And even if they don’t, they swallow up all their knowledge and that is dangerous in itself. Afterwards, they feed from the victims they have been toying for so long.” Vergil continued Dante’s thought, ignoring his brother’s previous words. The more you didn’t think about what Dante had said about him, the better – for Vergil couldn’t deny it. “They hunt in packs, and the more victims, the more powerful they become. Some call them the Pit Deceivers, others call them the Lie Weavers…”

“You call them Hell Piranhas.” You concluded bluntly, making Vergil stare at the horizon with emptiness in his eyes – he could say all he wanted, flex all his demonic knowledge, you heard the Piranhas and now you’d never forget it.

“I never heard of them.” Lady had her eyebrows furrowed, searching her memory for some story like that.

“They either don’t leave the pit that much or not many humans survive to tell the story. That’s why.” Dante pointed at a great, old book Vergil had left on one of the tables a long time ago and now it was its official resting place. “You can find it only in the likes of the Codex Daemonica.”

“So either we have them around, or it’s something else. Something bigger. Right?” As you asked, Vergil only agreed with his head as the attentions turned to you. “Or something mimicking the Piranhas.” And Vergil had to sigh at your addition. He would never have peace again. “The mimic or the master, what kind of demon would the Piranhas answer to? If they are that obscure, I take it their existence is more of a niche knowledge in Hell rather than a common information.”

“On that, you are correct…” Vergil murmured in response, falling back into his pensive demeanor. You knew he would be lost for a while.

“See? Good thing I brought this for you, then.” Lady waved dismissively at Dante, but you could sense a little edge in her playful voice. Dealing with big things was fine, same as dealing with cruel demons and the ones that played the big-scary-one persona. Unknown demons were another kind of monster – one only Dante and Vergil used to deal with. “Plus, they always pay well.”

“Eh, I won’t be seein’ much of that money, if I know ya well.” Dante scoffed, having a small smile hidden in the corner of his lips; his tone and demeanor, though, were quite somber and you knew the red devil was taking it seriously.

“If you don’t mind, Dante, I would like to take over this one.” Vergil finally declared while getting up from the couch. “I know some of the hellish creatures who might make use of the Weavers or mimic them.”

“Fine for me, I’m needin’ some time to rest.” Dante sighed, but looked right back at you while Vergil rested his book on the big Devil May Cry desk. “But I’m gonna feel a lot better with someone around to keep an eye on ‘im, pretty thing.”

“Well, I didn’t intend on letting you guys deal with this all by yourselves anyway.” You got up from the couch, immediately receiving a glare from Vergil. “I’m going, blue devil, whether you want it or not. I want to get acquainted with these Piranhas.”

Vergil only closed his eyes, letting out the longest and most regretful sigh you ever heard in your life.

And there you were – although Vergil lost track of you quite a while ago. He knew the stirrings rippling through his heart when you were in danger; and being the fierce human you were, Vergil wasn’t worried about having you search for the demons in the cathedral.

There was, though, a slight uneasiness. That voice echoing in the darkest parts of his soul, it always came as an omen – causing nothing but destruction, inside or outside of himself. Vergil never could really say which one would be, but both were devastating.

“Veeeeergil…”

His steps came to a dry halt in the middle of the cathedral. The night outside the colorful stained-glass windows was pitch black, robbing the colors of their warmth and light – the fire on the candles, long dead in that cold night. The whisper that crept to his ears, like stark chalk on a chalkboard, dragged itself through the marble floor and took a hold of his soul in its clutches.

It was a different kind of sound – different from the ones inside himself, calling him to the darkness. It was from the outside… The Lie Weavers. Slowly coming up, finding him as their next victim. He was close to one of the places they were certainly lurking in the shadows, patiently waiting for someone they could consume.

Vergil never feared the darkness. Tightening his grip around Yamato, his steps resumed his way, approaching the places in the cathedral the faint light of the night could barely touch. Those demons should have known their end was near, and he was the harbinger of their demise – he expected all kinds of trickery, of resistance, of fight from them.

He did not expect to hear a familiar voice, filled with uncertainty.

“Vergil…?”

Halting his steps once more, this time his silvery eyes lost their predatorial gaze as his heart jumped in his chest – even if for a slight second.

“Mother?”

His answer was but a whisper before he was swallowed by darkness.

When engaging with illusion demons, one should be aware of not falling into their element: when engulfed by it, those demons were more powerful than expected, able to subdue even the strongest of foes. Breaking from their control required mental and emotional discipline rather than brute force.

It was a slight second – a foolish slip from his human soul, disarmed by the trickery of Eva’s voice – and Vergil was surrounded by a sea of darkness and turmoil. His heart stirred with anger towards himself for being such a child, a vulnerable stupid child, tricked by a puppet of something his heart missed so much.

Eva was long dead. There was no demon able to bring her back. And he would never see her again. All that logic was tossed aside in a spark of a second by his stupid human heart, trembling upon hearing her speak his name again. Granted, Vergil only heard his mother in his dreams, barely remembering how her voice sounded in reality, and this time he heard outside himself – but he should have seen it coming. Illusion demons, trickster demons, cruel demons… They all relied on the barely closed scars inside his damned human soul.

Vergil could always count on them to re-open those wounds, making him bleed as much as he did on the floor of that cursed cemetery so many years ago – and he was a fool to fall for it after he had been through so much.

“Vergil… Can you hear me…?”

“I can, you damned deceiver. You can stop these theatrics – mimicking my dead mother will not affect me.” His voice cut through the dark like the sharpest of ice, his predatorial gaze back into his silver eyes.

“I… Don’t understand you, son. I cannot find you.” Her voice had a tinge of sorrow and desperation – but it was exactly like Eva’s voice. Vergil remembered it with a tinge of gold, probably a result of the haze of nostalgia, but today it was grounded and melancholic – perhaps, that was how Eva had always sounded… He just didn’t remember it. “I can’t find you. You aren’t home.”

“I haven’t been home for a long while.” Vergil didn’t even try to hide the growl that raised from his chest as he argued with that creature. He was used to having a puppet of his mother parading in front of him to hurt his human soul even more, but that was already getting on his nerves. Taunting him about the fact his mother ran to find him that fateful night wasn’t part of the usual games those filthy demons played – and to say they were honing his wrath was an understatement. “And I will never be back.”

“I… I cannot see you, Vergil. Where are you…? Why…?” He could hear the weeping in her voice, faint sobbing while the desperation made her words tremble. Vergil raised his head in the darkness, holding his own heart not to quiver: she wasn’t real and it was all a gimmick to affect him. He would not be affected. He was stronger than that. “Why couldn’t I save you? Those demons they… They hurt you, didn’t they? Oh, my child! My son! They hurt you and I could do nothing! I couldn’t be your mother!”

“Enough with this, filthy, hellish creature!” His voice finally exploded from his chest, roaring in the dark and echoing through the void, finding only silence. “You have no right to desecrate my mother’s memory like this! Shut your putrid mouth and stop with your rancid lies!”

The glint of the Yamato being unsheathed made the darkness recoil for a split second, only to envelop the Dark Slayer once more. His grip was tight, his eyes fiercely looking for his first opponent to direct a very well-placed judgement cut that could end all those creatures with just one swing of his hand. Vergil had enough and all the patience he carried in his being wouldn’t be enough to stop him from overkilling those demons – he just had to know where to direct his wrath.

“Don’t say those words, Vergil… You are not… Not like this.” Her voice still trembled, and his hand was still certain around Yamato. Vergil knew quite well at that state he was a weapon of mass destruction, he just had to find his opponent. His soul was screaming for him to do that, to put a stop to all that mockery. “You are good… You are my son.”

Vergil would have sliced that demon into a thousand million pieces without flinching, even if it took the form of his mother – but his eyes widened as a soft, warm hand touched his face. In all those years being taunted by demons, being tricked and mocked, seeing so many puppets of Eva, Sparda and Dante, none of them had touched him… And none of them genuinely felt like them.

It had been so many lost years he hadn’t felt his mother’s touch – last time, she could cup his entire face, thumb lovingly caressing his innocent eyebrows, but now her thumb could only reach his cheekbones. Nevertheless, it felt like her: not like a golden, nostalgic lost memory of how she felt, but exactly like Eva’s hands, even with the slight roughness of her continuous gardening.

“It took me so long to find you… I am so sorry.”

“You are not my mother.”

“Don’t say that.” Her answer was a sorrowful whisper, her thumb now carefully caressing his sharp cheekbone. Vergil closed his eyes, unable to move, convincing himself all of that wasn’t real and not allowing his heart to sway – forcing his arms to remain frozen by his side, fighting the urge to embrace her. Reminding himself: his mother was dead, killed while trying to save him, a long time ago, and nothing could bring her back. “Your heart hasn’t hardened as much as not to recognize me. You…” Her voice once more became soft, as if trying to do the same with his soul. “You are not a monster… You are my son, my Vergil.”

With those words, Eva’s hand was finally met with a tear – melting the ice from those silvery eyes.

There was an impending storm rumbling inside your chest.

Whenever that turmoil took ahold of your heart, you knew Vergil was in trouble. You had just finished checking your side of the cathedral, finding some things out of the ordinary but no demons, when the waves became aggressive in your chest. Your steps were already taking you to meet him, but you found yourself walking even hastier – the sound, though, eaten by the shadows that seemed to only grow around you.

Neither of you had calm seas of feelings: they usually raged like a maelstrom of emotions you could barely get through without some destruction – be it internal or external. But there was a certain note of melancholy and desperation in your heart at that moment that made you know Vergil was hurting – and that hurting, you knew quite well.

It was almost ironic how you apparently despised each other at the beginning, but after a while you came to understand; that aversion was there because you, in a certain way, were a mirror of each other. You could see in him the traits in your soul you disliked the most, and Vergil did see in you the same thing – those traits, however, were the same ones that brought you together, and made both you and Vergil feel seen and understood for the first time in your lives.

He didn’t judge your sins, as you didn’t judge his. To your eyes, he was never a monster, and to his, you could never be as crooked as you thought you were. You found each other in imperfection and, in that, you managed to talk and feel on the same level – after that, every feeling of admiration, care and love was easy to blossom.

You understood that storm, that thunder rumbling inside your chest at that very moment. You could feel it exactly the way he felt – and you knew Vergil needed help… Even if he would never say so himself.

You couldn’t hear or see him, though. You found yourself exactly at his area of patrol in the cathedral, but there was no clue as where your blue devil had gone – and for him to completely disappear, imposing presence and all, was quite an achievement in itself. The air was stiff, heavy as if the windows had never been opened, eating up any sound from the inside and the outside. The darkness was heavier than the one you had previously patrolled, shadows allowing only a few glimpses of the opulent decoration and the path in front of you – although, you couldn’t see more than a few meters beyond your feet.

If you couldn’t trust your sight or your hearing to find him, you could trust your heart: the storm would guide you. Closing your eyes, you allowed your feelings to take over, following with your footsteps in the direction you could hear his soul calling.

Those shadow creatures wouldn’t be able to hide him from you: no matter what happened or where you found yourselves, you would always be able to feel Vergil’s presence and find him in the darkest of hours.

And as the thunder in your chest cracked violently, your feet came to a halt and you opened your eyes.

Right in front of you, there was only darkness. Not like in the shadows that took the cathedral little by little, but pitch-black darkness, that no light could cast aside. To enter it would mean to be completely bare: vulnerable, lost, without guidance, naked – but the screaming in your soul made it very clear Vergil was in there.

Contrary to your lover, you were afraid of the dark. You always preferred to have a little light by your side, for you never knew what could be lurking alongside you, ready to pounce and drag you to certain suffering and death. You protected yourself by being forever vigilant, as you always did – a trait that exhausted you, yes, but luckily, in the last few years, you had Vergil around to keep a light by you when your body started giving out.

For that reason, you would never fear entering the darkness for him.

And with a deep breath, your bold steps took you inside the dark.

Your feet were cold, bare, stumbling over a sticky floor. Even if your eyes could see only darkness, you felt the freezing air of that night slicing your skin: you were shirtless and something was hurting… Oozing. The cold wind mixed with a faint warmness that leaked from the open wounds on your skin.

Blood. You were bleeding.

Your arms immediately wrapped around you – those scars, they were showing. They never showed before.

Running your hands quickly over your body, you could feel the warm blood slipping through your fingers; some wounds barely holding themselves closed while others still poured as in the day they were created.

That was the version of yourself you used to fiercely hide. None of those wounds were physical, none of them could be seen… But whenever you looked in the mirror, you saw them there, under your skin, under your soul, quietly resting until you couldn’t hide them anymore.

“You are lost…”

It was always the same voice, of something dark, something inside you that could break your soul if you didn’t shove it back into the darkness like you always did. That was why you were afraid; that was why Vergil always kept a faint glow by your side whenever you couldn’t hold yourself together. The dark was dangerous to you – to both of you.

“You are lost without me…”

“I can survive quite well without you…!” You growled to the darkness, keeping that part of yourself at bay. The part that gave in to the pain, that bathed in the blood and didn’t want to get up… And the part that would bathe and rise in rage, making you survive at great cost to those around you.

You were past that. And you didn’t need that to survive. You didn’t have to survive, you could live.

“Can’t you see that you’re lost…?”

“Vergil!” Your scream was a roar in the dark, looking for the one you plunged into the darkness to find. You wouldn’t give in to the trickery of those Piranhas – and you would get Vergil out of there.

They would learn they shouldn’t fear only the son of Sparda: they should also fear you.

“You think you can find him…?” After the mischievous ethereal voice questioned, you heard a giggle rippling around your feet as you stumbled on the sticky floor to find your lover. “You think you are that good? You think you aren’t a monster?”

You furrowed your brows, doing your best to ignore the voices. You knew it was that part inside of you that always taunted how broken you were, how imperfect your soul was. For the longest time you believed there was nothing good in you, nothing to save you from a life of loneliness, until you crossed paths with Vergil.

He was broken too – and he would never judge the things you did to survive your lethal wounds.

“Vergil! Can you hear me?! I’m here to find you!”

“How chivalrous, how heroic! What are you trying to accomplish?” The giggles pooled around your feet, threatening to drag you inside that pool of viscous darkness. “Trying to prove yourself? You’re never going to be perfect. You’re a black sheep, an outcast, remember? The likes of you aren’t heroes.”

“Oh, I’m no hero…” You growled back, fighting against the things trying to pull you back; fighting against the pain of the freezing cold and warmness of blood. “I’m a fucking fighter. You’re messing with the wrong kind of monster, fucking Hell Piranhas.”

“Piranhas…?” A faint whisper in the dark broke whatever control those things were trying to have over your body, starting at your feet. It was Vergil’s whisper – followed by a louder speaking tone. “Y/n! I can feel you, where are you?!”

“Trying to find you!” You screamed back, immediately dragging your feet towards Vergil. You couldn’t see him, but you could feel where he was – and there was nothing those demons could do against that.

The darkness seemed to shift for a couple of seconds. You couldn’t understand what was happening, but you saw a faint, ghostly pale glow in the dark – almost imperceptible, but your heart knew, you could finally see Vergil.

And, in return, he could see you. Moving his feet, Vergil dragged heavy shackles through the floor, screeching in a horrid, soul scratching sound as he willed his body to move towards you. You could hear him grunting with the effort, another set of chains being dragged as Vergil moved his arms – slowly, but surely, wearing all of his strength to get to you.

You felt the viscous ripples of the floor creeping up your legs, almost on your knees, doing their best to pull you away – back into the darkness, back to the taunting voices, to the doubt, the hurt, the self-loathing.

“Vergil! Let me hear your voice! You’re still there, right?!”

“Yes. I am always here.” His answer came with grunts of effort, barely above the noise of the chains screeching around him.

The darkness shifted again, and his form became even more visible, as yours did to him – followed by a scream that rumbled in his chest, Vergil managed to get even closer. That made something spark inside yourself, that thundering storm breaking in your soul cracking in a scream that broke the insidious tentacles holding you back and making you lunge forward.

Once again, the glow you diffused only to each other seemed to get stronger as the darkness wavered.

“Y/n…” He growled once more, the shackles screaming on the floor as he reached out to you.

“Vergil…!” You reached out in return, barely making out the form of his fingers in the dark.

As you were almost touching each other’s hands, the heavy, muffling darkness faltered once more. You could finally see one another, as you were in that godforsaken place.

Vergil was shirtless, his body covered in wounds – new and old – bleeding profusely. His silvery eyes were red, sunken in deep shadow, surrounded by a deep purple mist on his dry skin. You could see his bones under his pale skin covered in so many lacerations you wouldn’t even know where to start healing him. His knuckles were battered, showing the flesh underneath, as well as his wrists covered by heavy iron shackles – wounds from fighting against them for so long. His hands were still long and elegant, but bony and covered in bruises.

You had never seen Vergil so hurt, so broken, so… Vulnerable.

In return, his eyes took in shock the vision of you: as shirtless as him, as battered and wounded as he was. Even if not locked in the shackles he wore for so long in Hell, you walked barefoot leaving a trail of blood behind you. Those scars, those wounds, those bruises… He knew they were there, but he had never seen those. You looked weak and tired, bloodshot eyes under dry skin, as if you hadn’t slept in ages… And those things you fought so much to conceal, now crystal clear in front of him.

Those were the scars you carried inside yourselves. The wounds you had to fight against every day – that you had to try to heal, even if sometimes it seemed impossible. The things you would never show, but, somehow, you managed to sense it in each other… Now you could see it, clear as a bright night.

And, even if you wouldn’t admit to yourselves, those were the very same breaking thunders that would keep you moving – fiercely fighting, fiercely surviving.

As you took in each other’s internal selves, Vergil’s silvery eyes finally found yours.

A loud thundering noise shook the floor underneath your feet twice, as your hearts rumbled alongside the devastating sound. You lunged forward, holding Vergil’s hand as if your life depended on it. Never breaking your eye contact, Vergil held your hand with the strength you would expect of the legendary Dark Slayer. You made each other stronger, and there was nothing that could come between you now.

His shackles immediately screeched back, pulling Vergil violently away from you. At the same time, you were grabbed by the viscous darkness – your knees, your legs, your abdomen, your arms. It pulled you back with vicious strength, doing its best to drag you away from him – back into the darkness.

“Don’t let me go!” You screamed back, tightening your grip around his bony hand.

“I will never let go!” He growled, doing the same, trying to drag his body forward – failing to notice you willed yourself towards him as he pulled you into his arms. Those silvery eyes never moved away from yours.

“You are lost…! Lost…!”

The voices chanted and screeched around you, doing their best to drag you apart. For a moment, your hand slipped and you let out a desperate scream, hurting your lungs as you were almost pulled back into the void. Vergil’s cry resembled a roar as he willed his body to move and tightened his grip in a way he didn’t hold even Yamato.

He hadn’t held his brother’s hand once. This time he wouldn’t make the same mistake. This time, he would hold you even if that damned the both of you to the darkest pits of Hell.

“Can’t you see…? Can’t you see that…?”

“I am lost…!” You barked back to the voices, still staring into Vergil’s eyes, trying to catch your breath while your lungs stung as if you were inhaling a thousand knives.

As Vergil looked into your eyes, though, he knew exactly what you were going to say – and he could safely say it was the very same thing he struggled to find the words to.

“Without you.” His answer came in a dark tone, ragged from the effort he too made to be able to hold your hand.

The thunder rumbled twice again – the voices shrieked and you suddenly found yourselves being launched into each other’s arms as the forces that bind you broke into a million pieces.

Vergil’s arms wrapped around you, one of his hands holding your head close to his chest, as you wrapped yours around his waist, keeping him as close as you could. His head rested on top of yours, and you kept your eyes closed – washing away the blood above his heart with the tears that streamed down your face.

“Don’t ever hide from me.” Vergil’s voice was uncharacteristically shaky, somber but reassuring. You had never been so vulnerable in front of him – and even upon seeing you like that, his reaction was to take you in his arms, to welcome you. “I’m not afraid of the dark.”

“And I’m not afraid of your darkness.” You tightened your arms around his cold, bony body as you felt tears running through your hair. “I can see beyond your glimmer, and I’m not afraid of what’s in the dark.” Your voice shook as you took a deep breath and Vergil’s arms held you even closer – his body shaking with the tears falling from his eyes. “It’s you. And I’m never afraid of you.”

“Neither am I of you.”

His answer was but a whisper – a whisper enough to break the darkness into a memory to be kept away in the deepest pits of Hell.

I can feel the thunder that’s breaking in your heart I can see through the scars inside you

“You killed the Piranhas from Hell with the power of love?”

Vergil wanted to crawl into a hole and disappear. Or die. Or both.

Probably both.

The whole crew was there as you and Vergil never came back from the job as quickly as expected – and when you did, it looked like you hadn’t slept in days.

The priest was more than happy with the result of your work – even though you never discovered why the Weavers decided to come out of hiding nor what they wanted. The congregation was just happy they were gone and the whole reason behind it would be a long-term thing for the Devil May Cry to work on – or to keep an eye on; maybe something bigger was approaching.

You and Vergil didn’t feel like going back to the shop, though. When you were hurt physically, things were very much ok to deal with, but when the wounds were emotional… You needed time for yourselves.

Unlike his brother, Vergil was a little more responsible with his money – and you, a lot more than the two. You managed to find somewhere to spend a few nights… Which involved the both of you talking out everything you felt and saw. It was harrowing at first, something neither of you were versed in and honestly were terrified of, but it eventually brought you even closer together.

So, to say you had defeated the Lie Weavers with the power of love was something that killed Vergil inside.

And you could almost see his internal self, glaring at you with a ‘really, after all of this you say this kind of foolishness’ look in his sad, silvery eyes, as Lady stared at both of you and made the question everyone was thinking.

“Yep. Power of love, it’s a curious thing.” You shrugged, making Vergil physically groan by your side while Dante slapped his table with a huge grin on his face.

“Make a one man weep, make another man sing! Hell yeah, Back To The Future, babe!” He winked back at you as you smiled in response.

“Of all the people you could end up dating, Vergil…” Trish sat on Dante’s desk, crossing her long legs while sporting a devilish smile on her rosy lips. It was interesting how her voice could never really sound like Eva’s. “It had to be someone who references the same songs as your brother.”

“Alas, fate plays many games…” Vergil rolled his eyes, but as they rested on you, there was a vulnerability you saw only once in that pitch black darkness. “But it is kind enough to give us what we need.”

No one ever really understood what he meant, but Dante was the only one who managed to see something inside his brother’s silvery eyes that could only reflect in yours – and that made him genuinely smile.

Indeed, you would never be the romance of a fairy tale book or a romantic comedy – but you could see what lied beyond each other’s scars; taking a glimpse at the worst of each other without fear and finding whatever light was left inside. You could understand – and that was much more than most lovers in the world would ever have.

#devil may cry #devil may cry imagine #dmc #dmc imagine #vergil x reader #vergil imagine #devil may cry fanfiction #dmc fanfiction #dmc vergil #vergil sparda #devil may music #song fic requests #cirice #cirice ghost #there aaaaare a few references to other things sprinkled here and there #the nostalgia and haziness from secular haze and ghuleh/zombie queen #but the whole Eva thing was the zombie queen nostalgia #never let go? that's from Titanic #the two thundering noises being the thundering drums from the song #the holding hands from the video from the scene that killed me in Matrix and my drawing when I was 15 y/o #seriously it's a recurring imagery in my life and I'm always ??? so it's in here too #I won't suffer alone #for some reason I sometimes sing 'I can see through the stars inside you'#and that's where the reader's 'I can see beyond your glimmer and I don't fear the dark' comes from #and that silly little ending at the shop was just a thing to tie it all together #OH! THE HELL PIRANHAS! Totally inspired by those shadow piranhas from the library planet episode in Doctor Who #the whole concept of those things just creeps me out #if some lost soul from the Ghost fandom fell here by chance or mistake do apologize #I need to tag things properly in this blog to update my masterlist forgotten in the abyss so finding it by cirice will be easier #Youtube

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emepe · 10 months ago

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— Pairing: Eren x Reader, friends to lovers

— General info: series, 18+, modern AU, serial killer AU, smut, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort

— Summary: Fate is a tricky thing. Certain situations can’t be avoided as much as certain people’s lives can’t be kept from intertwining. With a serial killer on the loose, and unexpected relationships blooming, how will the universe intervene?

— Chapter summary: A simple dinner party leads to new relations. Eren Jaeger can't keep his eyes off of you.

— Content warnings: mentions of murder, alcohol consumption.

— Notes: I'm so excited to post the first chapter to my new series. I've been wanting to write again for two years now and I finally got hit with inspiration. This is a little different from my usual stuff, but I hope you'll like it. A special thank you to @dreamy-jaeger for beta-reading <3 Happy reading, bubs!

Links: Read on AO3 | Chapter guide | Masterlist

at first sight

Nobody ever said anything about the desperate cries that could be faintly heard from one of the units in Sina Park. Then again, the surrounding houses were occupied by people well into the age when sound just doesn’t reach them as well as it did even just a few years back.

Sina Park was known for being a peaceful area. With its small and painterly identical houses, and its gardens full of color and floral aromas, it was a picture-perfect community. It wasn’t embedded into its terms to remain strictly as senior-only housing but the great majority of its residents certainly gave off that idea to any outsider. It was to the point where it came as a surprise for one to find out there was someone under the age of sixty living there. But everyone in Sina was well acquainted with each other, and friendliness was practically the norm between every carefree neighbor.

That was probably why Mr. Shadis didn’t bat an eye when he was enjoying a cup of tea on his front porch and he saw the youngest of the Sina community step out with a duffel bag that was promptly thrown into the trunk of his car, the same night silence reclaimed its territory in Sina Gardens.

“A bit chilly tonight, eh Fred?” Mr. Shadis asked from his side of the street, raising his hand in greeting when he saw his neighbor walk out.

The young man tossed a boyish smile toward his elder while reciprocating his wave.

“Just a bit, Mr. Shadis. You probably shouldn’t be out much longer or you’ll catch a cold,” he replied, still smiling as he slammed his trunk shut and smoothly tossed his car key in the air with his left hand, catching it swiftly with his right.

“Me? What about you?” Shadis teased.

“I’ve still got good bones,” he joked to which Shadis clicked his tongue, feigning hurt feelings as he shook his head.

“You be careful on the road now, eh Fred?” he said, watching the young man disappear into his car, his hand lagging behind to wave goodbye.

The car peeled slowly from its driveway, out of Sina Park, and onto the main road. As the speedometer needle trembled between steady numbers, music flowed softly through the car’s speakers, barely loud enough to disguise the disgusted voice that murmured “That’s not my name, you stupid fuck.”

The early autumn breeze pins your skirt against your thighs and playfully tussles your hair as you hurry toward the bakery on the corner of the street. You’re welcomed by the pleasant jingle of the bell above the door, as well as Kuchel’s warm interior that puts a stop to the outside’s disturbances on your clothes.

A slight impatience consumes you as you wait for your turn to order, but you try to keep your booted feet from tapping against the hardwood floor and settle for tapping your fingers on your wallet as you try to assess the available baked goods from your spot in line. There’s a variety of sweet and salty treats — from jumbo oatmeal cookies to pain au chocolat to rolls — but you’ve only got a single thing in mind. A breath of relief escapes your lightly chapped lips when you get close enough to see a neatly stacked pyramid of lemon bars in the display, and a second one after you have a box of them secured in your hands minutes later.

A satisfied smirk tugs lightly at your lips as you allow yourself to admire the neatly packaged treats. As you make your way to the door, the bell dings, pulling your attention from the box and saving you from clumsily bumping into the man who just walked in. The exchange is brief; he quickly apologizes for the avoided accident and holds the door open for you with a shy smile.

You don’t reciprocate his warm smile but opt for politely nodding in acknowledgment and thanking him for the gesture before hurrying out the door, not wanting to prolong his act of kindness more than necessary. You take a sharp turn toward the nearest bus stop, completely oblivious to the lingering pair of emerald eyes that steal one last glance at you from inside the bakery.

Once again, the wind teases your hair until it finds itself locked out by the shutting door of the bus you settle into. Your hand dives into your purse to retrieve your earbuds as soon as you find a seat, yet no music plays throughout your journey. The box from the bakery remains safely in your lap, the contents being lightly jostled now and then when the bus stops to pick up more passengers.

From the bakery to the bus and for the twenty-minute commute, you go over the names of the people you’ll be meeting in your head.

It’s not often that you get invited to a coworker’s housewarming party. It’s not often that you form a friendly relationship with a coworker. In fact, it’s not often that you engage with someone at all unless it’s for work or other impersonal things. But Armin Arlert’s nice. Despite being the kind of person who can’t seem to let the purposely lonely be lonely, you’ve taken a liking to him.

His friends, you think, might be a different story. It’s not that you expect them to be dreadful people, but socializing has never been your scene. You can be pleasant, laugh at jokes, and perhaps even throw one out yourself, but it’s not in you to pursue deeper connections. You’re more at ease keeping to yourself and observing if anything. However, the hopeful look on Armin’s face during your lunch break last week, when he insisted he wanted you at his party, has been popping up in your head at all hours so you feel as though you have no choice but to go beyond your standard pleasantries.

Your plan for surviving the evening is simple. Get there a few hours early so you can help cook, clean, or anything else Armin might need help with before his friends arrive. Partly because that’s what your altruistic nature steers you to do, but also because you’re hoping you can get a refresher course on what Armin's friends are like so you know what to expect and how to act. If they’re all friends of Armin, maybe it’ll be worth it for you to put some genuine intention behind your courtesies. After all, being friends with Armin hasn’t been difficult so far. You dare to even call it nice. Maybe it’s time for you to make at least one more friend.

Armin’s kitchen is bustling with energy as he and his friends move from one spot to another, swiftly keeping out of each other’s way in perfect sync to finish dinner preparations.

“I still can’t believe every single one of you bought me a candle… and the same one to top it all off,” Armin shakes his head in amusement, his mind recalling the small cluster of ocean-scented candles he left on the living room coffee table.

Despite his constant assurance that he’d take full responsibility for the food and drinks — he was the one to bring up the idea of a housewarming party first, so it only made sense —, all of his friends arrived little by little before noon to help out with the cooking. First was Mikasa who, as soon as Armin opened the door, handed him the gift bag with a smile, congratulating him on the move and saying she hoped her present would help make the place a little cozier.

Then came Connie and Sasha who, despite being roommates, failed to coordinate their gift choices and only realized they bought the same thing when Armin opened Sasha’s bag first and Connie’s jaw dropped in absolute horror. It only got funnier from there. Jean barely stuck the carefully wrapped gift box toward Armin when Mikasa muttered under her breath “It’s a good day for candle sales”.

“Well, you like candles, and the ocean is pretty much your brand, dude. Don’t blame us.” Jean shrugs, not bothering to peel his focused gaze from the carrots he’s grating.

“The last time I even talked about the ocean I was, like, fifteen. Almost ten years ago!”

Everyone knows Armin loves the long-term supply of ocean-scented candles, and what may seem like complaints to outsiders is just another bit they’ve all dragged on from their youth.

But Connie still seems a bit lost. His hands pause from sprinkling rosemary leaves on the potato wedges Mikasa neatly laid out on a baking tray.

“So you’re not fucking with the ocean anymore?” he asks with an uncharacteristically serious expression that causes Jean to sputter a laugh before disguising it as a cough.

“Ignore them,” Sasha prompts, rolling her eyes. Her lips then stretch into a suggestive grin. “Tell us about the girl you invited over. Before she gets here, you have to tell us for real this time, are you into her? Do we need to talk you up? I’m the best wingwoman, Armin. I will make her love you even if it kills me.” Sasha’s hands fall heavily onto Armin’s shoulders as if to back up her conviction.

Armin furrows his brow in mild exasperation. This was the second time he’d been harrowed with that string of questions, which didn’t seem like much, but it took a while for him to get his friends to drop the topic the first time around. He shakes his head and peels Sasha’s hands from his form, fixing them firmly at her sides.

“I already told you it’s not like that. And I don't think human sacrifice is needed, Sash. We’re friends. I just want her to meet you guys… and Eren, of course.”

Nobody picks up on the short pause before Eren’s name or Armin’s sly expression that he’s quick to hide by turning to face the sink.

“She’s a bit quiet but she’s really nice. I think she’ll be a nice addition to our group. You’ll like her, I promise. Just go a little easy, okay?” Armin pauses as he tugs on a pair of dishwashing gloves to whip around one last time. “And don’t say anything weird! I swear I’m telling the truth.”

“Okay,” Jean replies in a sing-songy voice. Armin turns to shoot him a threatening look upon hearing his teasing tone, only to find Jean pointing a stern finger in his direction, “But if you change your mind, I got you, bro.”

Armin only smiles in response, not willing to spare any more breath in correcting him, and starts washing the dishes. Before he can finish scrubbing the bowl in his hands, the doorbell rings and he rushes to pry himself free from his dishwashing gloves before heading to the intercom, glancing back to make sure everyone is still keeping busy.

“It’s me,” a slightly fuzzy version of your voice comes through the speaker.

He buzzes you in immediately and steps into the hall to wait for you.

When he sees you round the corner, his face breaks out into a grin.

“Hey, you made it!”

Your lips quirk into a small smile. Armin makes way for you to step inside.

“I thought I could get here a little early to help you with the food. I hope that’s okay.” Your voice trembles a bit at the end, and you start to worry when you realize Armin’s grin has faded.

“Actually, everything is pretty much done already. Everyone got here around noon, and they kind of took over.”

As if on cue, a burst of laughter hits your ears from where you assume the kitchen is.

You manage to let out a slow ‘oh’.

Your simple plan has officially backfired. Since Armin's friends are already here, and since he's had no shortage of hands to help him prepare for his get-together, there's nothing left for you to do. More importantly, there’s no more window for you to ask questions. You hoped you’d be the first to arrive, and each arrival after that would be spaced out so you had enough time to get a feel on every one of Armin’s friends on their own. Now that that’s out the window, you start to worry the dynamics will be a bit too awkward between you and however many there are of them. It’s a battlefield now. Too many factors, too many things to worry about. Headfirst, no safety net, no baby steps.

Almost as if he can sense your panic through your otherwise expressionless face, Armin smiles.

“Don't worry about it, they're nice.”

Your fingers curl tighter around the box of desserts. There's a permanent knot in your stomach that twists further, reminding you of its presence, in situations like this. Your mind flashes a jumble of different scenarios and all the possibilities for outcomes without letting you actually process or make sense of any of it.

And in the next instant, you're back.

“I brought some lemon bars from Kuchel.” You raise the box just enough for the movement to catch Armin’s eye.

His face lights up when he looks down at the box in your hands and he immediately takes hold of it.

“I freakin’ love these! Thank you!”

Relief washes over your previously tensed features. Of course, you already knew these specific lemon bars are Armin’s favorite. He's always bummed out when you go together to Kuchel for your lunch break and there's no more left.

“I actually got the last batch,” you state proudly, the feeling only growing when his fingers excitedly tug at the ribbon tying the handles together and fishing out a pastry, biting into it with no hesitation.

“No kidding, they always sell out. Come on, I'll introduce you to everybody.” He heads toward the kitchen, waving at you to follow him.

You nervously tug at your turtleneck's sleeves, leaving them to cover your hands in an almost protective manner.

The fact that all eyes fall on you the second you step into everyone's line of vision doesn't help you feel at ease. Your gaze wanders to a distant place in an attempt to lessen the mental weight everyone's stares bear on you. But Armin throws a comforting arm over your shoulder and gives you a light squeeze as he announces your name to everybody.

When you look up — because you have to in order to properly link names and faces together — each new person in the room has a warmth to their features that gradually soothes your internal distress.

Sasha’s the first name to be called out. She's also the only one who goes up to steal you from Armin's arms and hugs you excitedly, squealing about how exciting it is to finally meet you. You're taken aback by the sudden embrace, but she’s holding you so tight that you can't look back at Armin for help. You're also oblivious to his warning gaze toward her behind your back.

Mikasa smiles and nods politely at you from the other side of the counter. It's quite the contrast from the first girl, but her gaze radiates kindness.

Jean's good looks are the first thing you notice from him, and he's got a cool energy to match. He raises two fingers in a salute when it's his turn, paired with a side smile as he casually leans against the bar.

Lastly, there's Connie, who proves himself to be as goofy as Armin told you beforehand, by dramatically posing with one arm against the counter and his opposite hand resting on his hip, muscles flexed, head turned low just so he could look up again and say “the one and only”.

You purse your lips in response to hide the smile that still manages to slip through.

“Nice to meet you all.”

You stand there awkwardly for what you think is a second too long, silently begging to come up with something else to say or for someone else to pick up the task so everyone can move on.

Thankfully, Armin swoops in, showing off his box of lemon bars on his way to a seat at the bar. He taps the seat next to him, gesturing for you to sit.

“Impressive,” Jean says, nodding in approval as he neatly folds a tea towel. He knows how much Armin loves Kuchel's lemon bars.

“It's not a big deal,” you reply, waving him off as you scan the room for something to give yourself to do. But there isn't much.

The counters have been cleared of any signs of ingredient prep during introductions, there's a timer set for the oven, and there's but a small pile of dishes left unfinished at the sink, which Mikasa is already finishing up. So you settle for sitting at the bar and staying out of everyone's way.

However, sitting still doesn't clear you from everyone's attention. It only makes sense that they're curious about you. And with the oven timer still with a little less than an hour to go, you can sense the start of a conversation where you're the main focus.

“So…” Jean begins.

Everyone gathers around the bar.

You brace yourself.

The following minutes are a bit of a blur. You try your best to keep up with everyone's questions. Where you're from, your birthday, your zodiac sign, what kind of music you like, if you've been to this and that place, or tried the food at x, y, and z. They're pretty basic questions, but as long as you're a target you're kept on your toes. After each of your answers, there's an exchanged glance or a nod of approval. You know everyone is only trying to get to know you, yet you can't help but feel as though every question is part of a test and your likability is at stake. That is until the conversation branches out to a story about the best taco truck in the next town over, which, in turn, leads to a story about Connie and Sasha getting food poisoning from a different taco truck they decided to try after their favorite one happened to close early that day. Only then can you breathe a sigh of relief. You even laugh a little at Sasha’s colorful retelling of the taco story.

“So, basically, don't go to Tito's,” Sasha finalizes, giving you a stern look. “You'll be shitting and barfing for a week.”

“I'll keep that in mind,” you laugh.

After that, the conversation flows a lot easier for you. There's less pressure with the decrease in questions thrown your way, which gives you more confidence to chime in with anecdotes of your own. It's hard to pinpoint when the conversation stopped feeling like a test, but you're grateful for it.

You realize there was never any battlefield to survive. Not here, not with this group of friends. And it’s nice to have several people willing to fill in any silence and steer the flow of the conversation instead of feeling the pressure of everyone's interest in your hands.

Just as you take a second to wander your gaze across everyone's laughing faces, finally feeling at ease with your place in the group, the doorbell rings, followed by the shrill sound of the timer.

“Fucking Jaeger,” Jean mutters.

“Just in time,” Armin grins, hops down from his chair, and makes his way to the door. Jean follows him at his heel, mumbling something about “Jaeger” being late.

You're distracted by Mikasa's voice calling your name.

“Could you get me the oven mitts, please?”

You nod and offer your assistance in taking out the chicken.

On the other side of the wall, Armin buzzes his last guest in and holds the door open to wait, shooting a confused look at Jean, who leans back against the wall to wait, too.

As soon as he comes in, Armin yells out, “Eren!” and pulls his best friend into a big hug, forcing him to crouch slightly to accommodate his embrace. They both laugh as Jean stands with his arms across his chest and a disgruntled look on his face.

“Hey, man. Sorry I'm late.”

“Mhm,” Jean hums, expecting Eren to cower under his gaze.

He doesn't. Jean is completely ignored as Eren sheepishly starts to explain himself, even though Armin didn't expect him until around this time anyway.

“I wanted to get you those lemon bars you like from that bakery. But when I got there, they were all out, so I went to their other shop across town, but they didn't have any either, and so then I—”

Armin laughs.

“Relax. You made it, that's what matters.”

“I feel bad, though. I really wanted to get some for you. I know they're your favorite.”

“If you really wanted to do something nice, you could've gotten here earlier to help with the cooking,” Jean scolds. Then he smirks. “Like I did.”

Eren rolls his eyes, finally acknowledging Jean.

He then pulls out a small gift box and hands it to Armin with a smile.

"I got you a candle, though."

Jean snorts and walks back to the kitchen, leaving an annoyed Eren shooting daggers at his back.

Armin graciously takes the gift, taking the lid off to confirm that the candle is, indeed, ocean-scented.

"Thanks, buddy. I was running short on these," he smiles sympathetically at his friend, patting his shoulder.

As they walk into the open space of the dining area, you walk out with a stack of plates in your hands to set the table. Armin perks up upon seeing you and excitedly rushes Eren, saying he wants to introduce him to somebody.

Armin’s voice catches your attention as you carefully set the plates down. “This is my best friend Eren.”

Your gaze shifts toward the pair of surprised green eyes already set on you while Armin’s voice goes on in the background, repeating your name to his friend.

“Hey, it’s you.” Eren smiles in recognition.

Armin’s eyebrows raise in surprise; yours furrow in confusion. Everyone starts filing to the dining area with food and silverware to finish setting the table. You step aside, murmuring quiet apologies as you get out of their way and step closer to Armin and his friend.

“You two know each other?” Armin asks, his gaze shifting between the two of you.

Before Eren can answer, he’s interrupted by Mikasa walking over.

“Hey, Eren. You’re late.” She looks up at him with disappointment. You get the feeling he was supposed to arrive around the same time she and the others did.

“Yeah!” Connie whines from the dining table, where he’s setting up wine glasses. “We had to work twice as hard.”

Eren ignores Connie’s flawed math.

“Sorry, everybody,” he replies, yet his tone is more that of a meek kid who’s forced to apologize.

He returns his focus to his original conversation. Armin is still looking at him expectantly.

“Oh, right! Uh… yeah, we bumped into each other at Kuchel’s earlier,” he finally explains. He looks at you shyly. “I held the door for you.”

Your furrowed brow softens, and your lips shape into a silent ah! when you recall the brief interaction. You didn’t even remember his face, but you nod along now.

“Come on, guys. Let’s eat!” Mikasa’s voice cuts through the silence, putting an end to your conversation.

Throughout dinner, everyone is a lot more chatty than you expected, considering there's plenty of food to get through. Everyone spills out as many light-hearted anecdotes about one another as the bites they take of baked potato wedges, garlic butter chicken, and grated carrot salad. Their stories are clear to have been brought up between them several times over the years, but they're new to you and you appreciate them choosing to share with you.

It turns out, the universe has worked its magic to make sure all six friends remain close since childhood. The fact is a little intimidating when you find out, but you do your best to push it aside.

At first, you're perfectly fine quietly listening as you eat, your voice only adding to the mix in the shape of a laugh, a gasp, or a question for the storyteller — just enough so they don't forget you're there.

The entire time, you feel a pair of eyes stealing glances at you from across the table even when you're not talking. Whenever you slowly look up to meet them, Eren quickly shifts his gaze elsewhere. When choosing places at the table, Armin insisted on having you across from one another. He didn't outright say it, but he did rearrange everyone else so that it worked out that way.

Given that he was the last to arrive and you've barely spoken directly to each other since he got here, you're not sure how to feel about Eren yet. He seems nice enough, but you don't feel as easy even looking at him as you do with the others. It's strange, but his late arrival made all the difference. Somehow he seems like a total stranger compared to the people you met just an hour before him. After your awkward introduction, it’s hard to say if you can make the situation better.

Night has settled in by the time everyone is leaning back in their seats with full bellies, lazily sipping wine every few minutes as the conversation eases into a quieter, slower pace. The serving dishes have been scraped clean. The box of lemon bars you brought over has been split for dessert, leaving just one lonely square that you know a slightly tipsy Armin has been eyeing.

Eren had turned to look at you with surprise when Armin thanked you for the second time.

“Ah, so you're the one who beat me to the last batch,” was what he said.

A soft apology tumbled from your lips.

So far, you hadn't proved yourself to be big on smiling but, when you did, it was nice to look at. Consequently, he tried to be the cause of at least one. So when you gave him nothing for his weak attempt at teasing, he shrunk in his seat and decided to keep quiet.

It's not long before Jean suggests moving to the living room to play a game and you take that as your cue to start clearing the table so there's no mess to come back to later. As you slip quietly into the kitchen, you can hear Jean and Connie arguing over whether to play cards or Monopoly. As Connie argues, he doesn't want to play Monopoly with a cheater, to which Jean says it's not his fault he's the better player.

You carefully place the dishes in the sink, adjusting the streaming water to a warm temperature. As you tug the pair of dishwashing gloves onto your hands, you catch a glimpse of a figure stepping beside you. When you look up, you're met with a boyish grin and shy jewel-toned eyes. He's setting down another pile of dirty dishes on the counter.

“Hi.”

You're not sure how to respond other than with a polite nod and a soft hi back. There's not much else to say, anyway. Half of you hopes he'll leave; you need some space to recharge your social battery. The other half is curious about the kind of conversation you might have to engage in if he stays.

You focus your gaze on the soaking dishes, waiting with bated breath to see what he does.

He stays.

He offers to dry what you wash.

There's a nervous tremor in his voice. Like a kid scared to ask for permission instead of an adult offering help. It's so small you barely notice it, but it's there.

You nod.

You wash, he dries.

It's quiet save for the sounds of dishes clinking together.

Then, his voice comes through.

“I didn't mean to put you on the spot earlier when I got here. I just have a knack for remembering faces.”

An uncomfortable warmth crawls up your neck and pools at your cheeks.

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to embarrass you. I'm kind of the opposite. I just don't pay attention to faces,” you explain.

“Oh.” He forces a laugh. “Yeah, no, I get it.”

He tucks his bottom lip between his teeth, unsure of how to keep the conversation going. It's a bit discouraging for him to see how laser-focused you are on doing the dishes though, and he already feels foolish for making you apologize for not recognizing a total stranger. He tries not to stare at you too much but it's difficult when you're right there beside him. He only hopes you can't make him out looking at you from the corner of his eye.

You, on the other hand, can feel his eyes burning holes into your side profile. Ignoring it is harder than you hope but at least you have something to help. You're not sure if he expects you to reciprocate his efforts in breaking the ice, but you've yet to get a proper read on him. He was mostly quiet during dinner. Whenever a story with him at the center came up, he'd try to sway the conversation in a different direction. He seemed tense and you hate to think he might be uncomfortable with your presence. Maybe he's an anxious person who's easily embarrassed, you think. Or he might’ve thought you were stuck up and rude after you failed to recognize him and that's why the air now feels so thick. That happens a lot. The people around you are mostly a blur until — and if you ever — have a reason to break into friendly territory.

The next time you hand a dish for Eren to dry, your gaze lingers, carefully taking in his features. His green eyes are striking, but it's not as if the rest of his face falls short of that. He's very handsome. In a more boyish way than you observed Jean to be, but sharper than, say, Armin. His brown hair is neatly cut on the sides, contrasted by the choppy bangs that line his forehead — something that brings more youth to his face. He's got long, thick lashes and plump lips. Faint freckles are scattered along what one might consider to be a perfect straight nose. He's very handsome, indeed. But that's not all. There's a delicacy to his features that blends them all harmoniously, making Eren Jaeger quite… pretty.

Eren suddenly clears his throat; you take it as a sign to stop staring.

“So… um… how long have you been friends with Armin?”

You already know the answer, and you didn’t mind the silence at all, but you might as well try to get Armin’s best friend in your good graces. Especially after your dreadful mistake of not recognizing him. It bothers you to think he might have decided he doesn’t like you because of that.

“Since we were six… Um… He had a lot of trouble with bullies back in elementary school and I beat them up for him.”

That part you didn’t know, so you pause your focus on the plate you’re scrubbing to glance at Eren with admiration.

“I think he might’ve developed a weird hero complex by mistake though,” he laughs to himself. “He wanted me to get into fights every time he saw someone new being bullied.”

You laugh. The sound makes Eren’s chest swell with pride.

“Did you do it?”

He bashfully nods without ungluing his gaze from the serving spoon he’s drying.

You laugh some more.

“And of course, then he would take them in as a friend. Something about strength in numbers or whatever. To this day he has this thing that he needs to take in anyone who seems vulnerable.”

You laugh through your nose fully aware of the familiarity you feel from Eren’s story.

“That definitely sounds like him.”

You grin as you finish rinsing the plate, excited to have found some common ground to latch onto for conversation.

Eren admires your happy expression from the corner of his eye.

But when you turn to look at him, he averts his gaze, curling his lips inwards, and he takes the plate from your hands.

Your lips downturn a bit, thinking you might still have a long way to go before you can make up for your mistake.

Still, the thickness in the kitchen air dissipates as you each return to your tasks, the corners of your lips perking up in relieved smiles.

Armin walks in a moment later with the remnants of a laugh on his face from whatever conversation he just left behind. His faded grin resurfaces when he finds you and Eren together, and he catches a glimpse of the pink tint dusting his best friend's cheeks.

He watches for a few seconds, mildly amused that neither of you seems to notice his presence. Just as Eren finishes wiping the last fork dry, he decides to speak.

“You didn't need to do that.”

His statement is directed at both of you, yet his gaze is fixed on you, a warm smile gracing his features.

“You should join the others,” he tells you. “Oh, and uh…” He swipes a bottle from one of the cupboards. “Take this with you.”

“Let me just help put away everything,” you offer.

“It's okay, Eren and I got it,” he assures you.

You back out hesitantly, only decidedly walking out when Armin gives you a reassuring nod.

Both men watch you leave. As soon as you're out of sight, Armin's lips stretch into a knowing smile.

“She's pretty, huh?”

Eren's eyebrows upturn in clear worry when he rips his gaze from you to look at Armin. They soften a split second later in an attempt to appear nonchalant before his grinning friend.

“Um… I guess so… I don't know.”

He hurries to tend to the dishes waiting to be put away, hoping it's enough to mask the way he slowly deflates.

Plates and forks are stored in silence. An amused Armin keeps glancing at him.

After a while, a soft laugh escapes his lips.

“Relax, I'm not into her.”

Eren stiffens, unable to remove his hand by will from the cupboard door he just shut, and instead letting gravity take the wheel.

Before he can reflect on how exposed he feels, Armin's voice comes through again from where he's now leaning casually against the counter with his hands in his pockets.

“But I meant it when I said she's pretty.” He nods along for emphasis even though Eren has yet to look at him.

“She's really smart too. And kind! I mean, she can seem a little cold at first, but I heard some guys are into that. There's just this charm to her, you know? A few guys at work have tried asking her out but they're totally wrong for her.” He shakes his head at the last thought, then side-eyes Eren expectantly.

“If she ever goes out with someone, I hope it's one of the good guys.”

Throughout Armin's speech, Eren kept his lips pressed together in a tight line, wondering where Armin was headed with all he was saying. At first, he assumed his friend was interested in the new face of the group, which is why he feigned disinterest. But with every word that kept rolling off his tongue, his intentions were blatantly obvious. And yet he still decides to ask, “What are you trying to do, Armin?”

"Nothing... nothing at all," Armin answers with a shrug, playing it off as if any suggestion is all in Eren's head. He straightens up and starts walking out of the kitchen. There's a pause in his step just before he can slip out of sight. Looking at Eren over his shoulder, he leaves him with one last thought.

“All I'm saying is if you just keep staring at her, she’s gonna get weirded out.”

Eren is left alone, blushing profusely and running a shaky hand through his hair.

“Come on! That can’t be your most embarrassing thing!”

You shrug.

“That's all I've got.”

“What’s going on?” Eren asks as he takes in the scene.

It took him a while to reason with himself alone in the kitchen. By the time Eren joins everyone in the living room — nerves finally dormant — everyone is sitting on the floor around the coffee table playing a drinking game. He walks over in search of an open space and ends up nestled between Jean and Connie. Jean throws an arm over his shoulders.

“Jaeger, good. Buddy, tell her about the time you tried to do a one-arm pushup.” From his sleepy eyes and the affectionate term toward Eren, one can easily tell he's drunk.

Eren looks up quizzically at everybody.

“We're telling our most embarrassing stories,” you explain. “Whoever has the worst one wins the round and everyone else has to drink. I think it's just a ploy for everyone to get dirt on me though.”

You pout at your cup. It's clear you're a little tipsy, too.

Eren softly laughs.

“Whaa– we would never,” Sasha pouts.

“You're getting a deal! You get six embarrassing stories for the price of one!” Connie points out.

As you start to argue that it's not really fair because it's not like you have anyone to tell, Sasha’s phone buzzes in her pocket and a loud groan rumbles from her throat after skimming through whatever text she just got. Her chin falls onto the coffee table, arms stretched out before her so she can reply.

Mikasa looks at her with concern and tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear, affectionately tapping her nose afterward.

“What's wrong?”

“Kaya's out with her friends and she's asking me to send her money for an Uber. I told her to be careful with her money but she just won't listen.”

Everyone either sympathetically smiles at her or idly watches her send over fifty dollars. You look at Armin, who quietly explains Kaya is Sasha’s younger sister who's a college freshman. You nod in understanding.

“That's a little sibling for you,” Connie mutters, softly patting Sasha’s head.

“That's why I love being an only child,” Jean states matter-of-factly. He stretches his arms over his head, rolling his shoulders back before reaching for the bottle of liquor at the center of the table. “Never had to worry about some annoying little runt.”

“I would've liked to have a younger sister,” Mikasa says. “It would've been fun to hang out and teach her things, you know?”

A touch of nostalgia dances along her lips as she traces the rim of her glass with her index finger.

“Oh, do you have any siblings?” Her eyes flit in your direction.

The question is innocent, but the topic of family causes you to shift uncomfortably in your seat.

“No… I don't.” You try to smile, but it's stiff.

Jean's loud clapping startles you. He tops off all but Connie's and Sasha’s glasses.

“Oh yeah, single child gang!” He raises his glass in cheers and downs the contents. You follow his lead, hoping that'll mark the end of that topic. But it doesn't. “You must've been spoiled growing up, am I right?”

You lower your gaze, opting to fiddle with your fingers instead of answering.

Mikasa seems to sense the fragility of the topic from your side because her eyebrows upturn in concern when she looks at you.

“Hey, not everyone has a mother like yours. Don't be rude, Jean-boy.” She raises a teasing eyebrow as she whips her head in Jean's direction.

“Didn't you yell at her when she brought cupcakes to our class for your birthday?” Eren scrunched his eyebrows together in feigned thought.

“I was twelve! You can't keep holding that over my head. I'm twenty-five now,” Jean whines.

“And I've yet to see you mature,” Eren mutters.

A hushed giggle escapes your lips. You cover it up by sipping your drink. A satisfied smirk tugs at Eren's lips when he catches a glimpse of your smile.

Contrary to his sober self, drunk Jean craves Eren's approval and affection instead of their usual frenemy-like banter. He looks at him with sad eyes.

“Hey, I've made up for it. Mama Kirstein doesn't need to lift a finger thanks to her amazing engineer son.”

Sasha’s face contorts in confusion.

“Last time I went to Trost with you, she was still working as a seamstress.”

Jean waves her off.

“She just likes to keep busy.”

“What do your parents do?” Sasha turns to you.

You're trapped.

From the corner of your eye, you can see Armin leaning forward with just as much interest as the others. In the past, Armin's asked about your family only once. After vaguely implying you weren't close to them, he dropped the topic. But now, in his intoxicated state, he doesn't do much to keep his level of curiosity under wraps. And knowing you're slightly buzzed, too, he hopes you’ve let go of any inhibitions that have kept you from revealing more of your background.

Armin likes you. He's always admired your efficiency at work, but you seemed lonely and closed off — which is why he decided to approach you in the first place. To everyone in the office, you were a cold stuck-up woman — yet they still refused to stop obsessing over you. To him, you were just misunderstood and lowkey. Sure, you refused to do much to take up space in a room, but through small conversations here and there, he was allowed to slowly unveil your true self.

But there was always another hidden wall. Armin wouldn't admit it out of fear of seeming like a creep, but that line you expertly draw — allowing someone in without fully giving yourself away — is part of what makes you alluring. That and your keen eye for reading people.

You wet your lips with a swipe of your tongue, looking for a way out inside the clear liquid sitting at the bottom of your glass.

Eren zeroes in on your face, trying to decipher the distant look in your eyes. The weight on his chest lightens when you finally speak.

“I'm not sure what they're doing now. Last time I checked, my mom was a drug addict, and my dad left when I was twelve.”

The weight in Eren's chest comes back heavier than ever.

Silence takes over the living room. Even the darkness outside the window seems eerily quiet as your abrupt statement courses through the gears in everyone's heads.

There's no certainty as to why you blurted out what you did. Maybe it was a sense of security which you now think was a trick of your mind. Perhaps the alcohol is to blame. After all, you didn't feel any need to be a burden on others on an otherwise fun night before. But the words just seemed to push their way out of your mouth.

A severe scolding rings in your ears.

You always ruin everything!

You don't expect anyone to come up with an answer. In fact, you'll be grateful if someone simply discards your words and steers the conversation in a different direction. But if nobody does, then you'll quietly make your way home. There’s no use in annoying others by begging them to let you stay, promising you won't cause any more trouble.

“How long has it been since you saw your mom?” Mikasa's voice cuts through the thickness of the air.

The look in her eyes is sympathetic. Not the fake kind that makes you feel pitied for having endured a rough life. It's the kind that simply matches such an ordinary question.

“About a year,” you murmur.

Jean hums in thought.

“A year, huh? That's almost how long you've been in the city, right?” He scratches his chin as he retrieves the information you shared earlier from his tipsy brain.

You nod. “Yup… one year.”

Everyone nods along to your answer. Everyone but one.

You nervously blink toward the left, searching Armin's face. He's slumped in his spot, his eyes lost at a blank point. They flash in your direction, and he quickly composes himself, but not quick enough for his expression to go unnoticed by you.

Despite some things here and there, he thought you were close. He never pressured you to share anything you didn't want to. Just getting along and respecting each other would have sufficed — he’s a giver more than he is a taker. But he feels like he failed to support you. He's extremely dumbfounded, but he doesn't make it a point that you never told him the specifics on something so big. He refuses to make you think he resents you for it.

But the glimpse you caught of his fallen shoulders and clouded eyes still makes you lower your head in guilt. Just ten minutes ago, you felt accomplished for being on your way to gaining new friends and grateful that Armin paved the way for you. You're embarrassed for having thought that you could juggle more relationships when you've barely been open to the one you already have. It's almost laughable that you thought to leave your comfort zone and give this evening a try.

Before you can issue an apology, Jean's loud clapping startles you for the second time tonight.

"Well.” He tilts his head as he splits the last of the liquor into everyone's glass for one last drink. “In any case... if you hadn't moved here, you wouldn't be drinking with the best people you'll ever meet."

“Hear, hear!” Armin yells beside you, following Jean's lead and raising his glass toward the center.

Your eyes meet his. He's smiling, nodding almost imperceptibly for you to join your glass with everyone else's. The corners of your lips quirk into a relieved smile. You raise your glass.

The rest of the group cheers as joyful clinks spread through the room.

Whatever darkness was squeezing at your chest dissipates. Your eyes crinkle in amusement as you allow your giddiness to take over.

A pair of mesmerized green eyes linger on your face from the opposite side of the coffee table. His lips part slightly to draw in a long breath, followed by a sip of alcohol.

A beeping phone sifts through the commotion.

Mikasa looks down at her phone. First, with curiosity, then with worry.

Levi Don't go out at night for a while. Killer on the loose. SN3

She calls out Armin's name.

“Turn on the news on channel 3.”

The urgency tainting Mikasa's usual steady voice has Armin scrambling to find the remote, though with a bit of confusion. Everyone else exchanges quizzical glances while they wait for him to turn the television on.

A male newscaster is halfway through reciting a report on the police department's recent findings.

“... The twenty-six-year-old woman's body was dismembered and disposed of in a garbage dumpster behind a local restaurant. Police have yet to report any evidence that can lead them to any suspects. An autopsy is ongoing to pinpoint the cause of death but with the initial report, signs point to a possible case of torture…”

The mood shifts yet again. Everyone stares at the screen, but the words no longer reach anyone's ears. Nobody recognized the girl identified on the screen but it's still unnerving when something so tragic and cruel happens in the city one lives in. Being close in age to the victim just makes it even rougher.

Eren is the first to look back — specifically at the girls.

You all seem lost in thought. His gaze flits in your direction. You're just as distant, nursing your glass in your hands as you chew on your bottom lip. He turns to Mikasa.

“Was that Levi earlier?”

Eren's voice pulls Mikasa from her thoughts.

She nods.

“Who's Levi?” you ask.

“My uncle,” she explains. “He texted me not to go out at night for a while. They didn't say if this was a serial killer but I don't think he wants to take any chances as long as the culprit is out there.” In a lower voice she adds, “he's in the police.”

You slowly nod, then suddenly remember where you are.

“I need to get home fast, then.”

Your eyes land on the digital clock beside the TV. It's well past the time to catch the last bus. You swipe your phone from your purse to look up cab numbers, unaware of the nervous glances exchanged all around you.

“I don't think you should leave now.” Eren stops you from dialing the first cab company from your search results, his eyes wide with concern. He doesn't realize his hand is holding onto your wrist until you look down at it.

He pulls away, embarrassed, but remains firm in his statement.

“Eren's right,” Connie agrees. He has a protective hand on Sasha’s shoulder. “Mind if we crash here tonight?” He directs his gaze at Armin.

“No need to ask. I'll bring out some blankets.”

It's two in the morning. A cluster of tired bodies sleeps peacefully on the living room floor. Lazy limbs stretch out and across someone else's. Light snores and rare mumblings are the only thing that disturbs the quiet.

The murder on the news had left everyone unsettled. Much so, that everyone felt inclined to sleep together in the same room. It didn’t do much for their comfort given the space, but it gave everyone a sense of safety.

Eren’s eyelids barely flutter open. They're so heavy, he wishes he could just ignore the uncomfortable fullness of his bladder. But he can't. Begrudgingly, he clumsily rises to his feet and makes his way to the bathroom, rubbing his temples with one hand and feeling around for any walls and furniture with his other while his eyes adjust to the darkness.

When he gets back, he catches sight of a lone figure sitting out on the small balcony outside of the kitchen.

It takes him a minute to rid himself of the extra warmth in his face. He takes a deep breath and quietly slides the door open to step out.

“Hey.”

You look up at him from your chair. Your knees are pressed against your chest, your arms wrapped around them for support as your cheek rests on top.

“Hi.”

“Is it okay if I sit?”

You nod and proceed to face forward, resting your chin where your cheek used to be.

The night is pleasantly warm. You're wearing the sweats and shirt Armin lent you for the night.

Eren's gaze roams every shape of your side profile. It's the second time you've been alone together and he's racking his brain on what to talk about to balance out the way he's been staring at you all night. He doesn't want to give Armin another reason to tease him. His hands are sweaty and his cheeks start to warm at the reminder.

“Did I wake you?”

Your voice is gentle and sweet, but it startles him nonetheless.

“No,” he manages to say. He pauses. “How long have you been out here?”

You shake your head as you look up at the star-littered sky.

“Not long.”

He hums, mulling your answer over.

If you’re awake at this hour, not bothering to try going back to sleep, something must be weighing heavily on your mind, he reasons. That’s further proven by the way you’re shrinking into yourself, trying to take up as little space as you can. Not that he’s especially knowledgeable about you, but there’s a difference in how your quietness manifests itself now than during dinner. It’s comparable to the way you were after watching the news.

“Are you okay?”

He watches you hesitate to give him an answer. Your lips tremble, parting and pressing together a couple of times. It’s as if you’re willing to talk but the words are lodged in your throat.

“You can tell me.”

Still no answer.

“Is it because of the girl on the news?”

Finally, you look at him. Your brows twist with grief.

“I just can’t stop thinking about her. Her family must be devastated.”

All evening, Eren’s had a hard time holding your gaze. Mainly because he didn’t want to give himself away, but it’s also hard to admire someone when they’re looking directly at you. Once his racing heart finds a steadier rhythm, he finds it’s actually easy to lose himself in your eyes.

There’s a subtle glassiness to them — one he’d be more concerned about if he hadn’t noticed it as a natural part of you. Your eyes heavily conveyed every emotion, every little thought. And Eren suddenly felt compelled to learn how to read them.

The way you’ve presented yourself so far — gentle and cautious — gives you an aura of delicate maturity in the eyes of others. But for a brief moment, you seem small. Troubled, even.

“I know it’s selfish for me to be thinking about this, but sometimes I wonder if I’ll have anyone crying for me when I die. I don’t have many people,” you whisper.

It feels strange to Eren to suddenly feel a surge of courage when he’s been nothing but an awkward wreck around you since you met.

“You have us now.”

You don’t show yourself to be entirely convinced. In fact, there’s a hint of amusement shimmering in your eyes. But you appreciate his words no matter how empty they might turn out to be.

Eren hesitates to ask you the question that’s been gnawing at his brain for hours now. You’ve been sharing such a pleasant moment, that he hates to think he might ruin it all and end up losing his cool in the process.

“That stuff about your parents… is it true?”

It’s a leap of faith.

“You think I made it up?”

The raised eyebrow and the humorless smile that graces your lips take him by surprise, even more so than the firm tone of your voice.

“No, of course not!” He chokes on his words, frantic he might have offended you.

But you laugh, and it soothes him instantly.

“Relax, I was just teasing you.” You look away, warmth pooling at your cheeks upon your failed attempt to be funny. “It’s true, by the way. I’m a child of neglect.”

A heavy sigh pushes past your lips.

He doesn't pick up on your embarrassment — he’s much too focused on his own.

Despite the bitterness lacing your gentle voice, he can’t help himself from wanting to know more. It makes him anxious. Finding you attractive is besides the point. His mind is scrambling at any opportunity to get closer to you. He wants to keep talking. He wants to hear more about what worries you. He wants to stretch out the night and keep the conversation going — even if he’s caught off guard by your unpredictable teasing a few more times. He wants to know about your past. He wants to know you. But you kill off his chances when you suddenly change the course of the conversation.

“Do I make you uncomfortable?” You look up at him with concern contorting your features. It takes everything in him not to let his gaze drift to your bottom lip that’s caught between your teeth to keep your nerves at bay.

“Huh?”

You clear your throat before explaining and fiddle with your hands as you do. You focus on the moon instead of him.

It’s quite cute for Eren to see you fidget for once.

“It's just that during dinner you barely talked and whenever I looked at you, you would look away,” you explain bashfully. “And then when we were doing the dishes together, you just felt a little awkward. I mean, I don’t expect you to be all chummy with me, but it was kind of like you were forcing yourself to talk to me.”

Eren wants to smack himself. He had no idea of the message he was sending all this time. All those averted gazes and suppressed smiles must have looked totally different from your end.

“I thought maybe you were uncomfortable with me around.”

Your voice is even softer than before. It might have to do with the people sleeping inside or maybe you're just feeling quieter than usual. Eren has no idea. But it's a nice sound, and his quickening heartbeat isn't lost on him.

The abrupt changes in his system are giving him whiplash. And it’s all because of you.

“I’m not,” he whispers. “I’m not uncomfortable.”

A deep shade of red gradually tints his cheeks, openly defying the pale blue light from the moon. His gaze shies away from you and settles on his lap, where he nervously rubs his sweaty palms just to give himself something to do. When his eyes slowly drift back to your face, he swallows hard.

It finally hits you.

Oh, you think.

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#aot fanfiction #snk fanfiction #snk x reader #eren jaeger fanfiction #eren jaeger x y/n #eren jaeger x reader #aot imagines #eren yeager fanfiction #eren yeager x reader #eren x reader #tw: alcohol

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the-sinful-voice-witch · 6 months ago

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I love JAYSTEPH, hear me out! 🙌:

The Robin who died by the fans and the Robin that was resurrected by the fans... Is so poetic yet some people is against it, but I just fell in love with them and I want to support this ship after I was finally able to let go Timsteph and I know theres people who will be Timsteph forever and others that strongly dislike Jaysteph but I think there's more people that are just simply unconvinced so I have nothing to lose if I play business woman and try to sell this potential romance to them, it deserves a chance! Let's see the arguments against it that didn't convince me first:

Steph becoming Barbara 2.0... (what a bat-list she had: Dick, Jason, Tim in a video game and fucking Batman 💀 got her pregnant once, but I didn't disliked it when she was briefly with Luke fox) But the only options for Steph that are bat family members aside Tim are Cassandra and Jason because... Dick, Damian, Duke, Luke, Kate, Barbara 😂? Eh NOPE. And even if Barbara and Jason had a thing once it was doomed from the beginning, Babs and Jay only had in common being Joker victims and Babs follows 100% Batman's ideals (while Steph mindset allows her to understand better Jason's point). Also I think Jason idealized her, it felt like they weren't on the same "level"(Timsteph has the same problem, Steph used to kinda idealize Tim too),but with JaySteph feels different, I think they would see each other as equals, the vibes I get are that they could relate to each other better. Not to mention that if they start a relationship now it won't be the same as another Robin-Batgirl attempt, remember that when it was with Babs it was described as a long term crush he had on her (like Dick) while with Steph not only she was also a Robin (that went through a similar struggle as him), first she was Spoiler, her own independent vigilante persona (with a background Jason could totally relate with) that was 100% unrelated to Batman before she even became a Batgirl (a heroine that was independent from Batman but was inspired on him unlike The Spoiler) and currently she uses both Spoiler and Batgirl titles, in anycase this would be another Robin-Batgirl situation if it was with Damian, because Steph was Damian's Batgirl (they even reminded Dick his olds days with Babs) but he was 10 and she was 18 so obviously NOPE. The relationship would start NOW as their current selves by realizing mutually how much they understand each other better than anyone, they aren't joined by the Joker they would be drawn because of their personalities and the struggles they had with their own families and the rejection they suffered from the BAT-family (at different times but the struggle is the same). This is something neither Tim or Babs can fully understand.

They're like "siblings". Ha! NOPE. Strongly disagree. They aren't related biologically or legally and Steph isn't even in Bruce care like Duke, she is basically... " Your kid's best friend who eats your fridge food" and with the issue about her dating Tim's brother, some people who pulls the sibling card are completely fine with Steph being with Cassandra... So dating Tim's brother is not ok but is ok to date his sister? 🤨 And bringing back the first argument the only ones I see as Steph's 100% sibling figures are: Barbara who is the big sister figure and acts like one and Damian who is indisputably his annoying little brother but why is Jason seen as her brother? Because of the banter? That doesn't immediately make you a sibling, you know friends to lovers and rivals to lovers and enemies to lovers also have banter right?

Their respective most popular ships in the past: for Tim I already made a post about it and Artemis... I totally understand Jason 🥵😍, between her and Ravager I prefer her because Rose seems to be more like a very good friend with very sexy benefits but with Artemis there's more emotional connection... But my issue with her is the immortality factor (i mean the fact that she won't die of old age, she being hundreds of years old I don't care) and that Artemis deep down has too much "independent" Vibes, I mean that I don't see her wanting the long term relationship, she can't have it anyway because of her immortality. And there was the problem that it was perceived as another Amazon-bat attempt in a "trinity"(with bizarro) and as much as some people liked wonderbat (not me, it was a bit awkward) in the end it doesn't work well (look at Damian and WonderGirl Cassie in DCeased).

Some sort of fantasy about an "age gap", this one is ridiculous. Some people believe that Jason is super old for Stephanie... Well in that case Stephanie was way super old for Tim too 🙄, I'll just get to the point: Jason died at 15 and only lasted dead 6 months, Tim became Robin at 13 and Stephanie is one year older than Tim, they met when he was 14 and she was 15 so... Do the math, is being one year older than her TOO OLD??🤡 one year and half maybe? If we count the 6 month dead. I mean I know he sometimes looks older because of the way they draw him, like a huge muscle chunk and sometimes he has a beard (ajj I hate beards). And yes, I know they changed their ages currently but at much he is only TWO years older than her and she is over 18 or 19 so... Like I said the age gap argument is a fairy tale.

"They never or barely interacted before", just what kind of argument is this?🤡Do you want Steph to only be attached forever to the Batgirls and Tim or just be alone? Jason has been more allowed than her to interact with other people, how unfair but the point is... they'll have to start someday don't they!? Or just because they barely interacted in the past it means they can't interact more in the future? Is really that unbelievable that they could start hanging out more often and bonding? Is that weird? Have you never suddenly talked with someone you know but you barely interacted before and realized you had more in common with them than you thought? That's something extremely normal to happen! I don't see how it would be out of place with Jason and Steph 🤷‍♀️.

Now let's see how this ship started and it's potential:

The ship existed before they actually met, people already shipped the possibility: the two failed dead Robins and (yes I'm counting Steph as dead because her dead was meant to be permanent), but they never met before the new 52 reboot and when it actually happened... It was a classic not very relevant banter, the second time he was impressed with her with how she dealt with the Scarecrow and after that there was barely interaction... But then we got these exactly interactions that made me ship them very hard, passionately and strongly in Task Force Z:

ok, I'm an anime consumer, this kind of tiny details affect me very seriously, when you are used to see relationships in comics where the couple simply jump to sexy time right away and suck face hard and fall in love or feel attracted instantly we forget about the little things that makes us blush with yearning... you know, the moment something changes in how you see someone even if you still didn't noticed it and you just feel funny and don't know why. In this comic panels the relationship is not romantic and hasn't even begin being romantic, they aren't in love or are feeling attraction yet and that still remains to be seen but what is happening here is a change, is a start! Is the beginning and they way he reacts to her really get me fangirl squealing LOOK AT HIS FACE!!! Specially when she touches his wounded cheek... You can't convince me that this guy isn't touch starved and not so used to receive affectionate touching 😭, suddenly after a big beating he received Kindness from someone unexpected but that we all know... relates to him better than anyone in the bat-family but the best part is that she isn't there to just pamper him a little she just decided to have a nicer approach to him, she gave him coffee, she treated his face wound and she gave him a talk of tough love, she doesn't take his side 100% but she let's him know she is still a friend and then the last pages of the issue:

She was the only one who wanted to say goodbye because once again she understands him and because of that she is more tolerant and forgiving towards his actions than the others while still not being dumb and knowing he still is up to trouble and again... The little touches always get me, the way she caresses his hand with the plane ticket gets me screaming more than their hug 😭😭😭 ah this is also their first hug! And I'm kinda pissed because the height is WRONG! Jason is taller than her! It shouldn't look like she is hugging Tim😒.

All right now my official points about why I love this potential relationship:

This is very important, this needs to be a SLOW BURN, I know jaystephers, I know you want kisses and hot moments but NOPE, that can't happen anytime soon, first we need a lot of little details and little touches, emotional conversations that don't end in kissing but in hugging, a lot of little meaningful looks and gestures, we need the rest of the fans that are not convinced, to get used to see them together interacting but not specifically obviously romantically, it has to be wholesome but we can't jump and shove the ship down people's throats, that's a turn off. Keep in mind that usually DC writers write love like a switch on and off, look at what they did with Nightwing! Just how many true loves has he had? A lot of bullcrap text about how much he is in love and obsessed with every new girl and not to mention Tim (let's hope he sticks to his NPC cardboard walking bisexuality proof boyfriend and stops fooling around with Steph, our girl deserves better). A new love that has hit hard has to be believable, the potential with their personalities gives for a lot to work with: Jason is a tough bad moody broody boy who is actually very emotional and sensitive and so affection starved he fell into Damian trap when he hugged him, Jason just melted into the hug (before he got hit with a taser, Damian you little shit...) and thats where Stephanie comes, Steph is someone completely open, eager, sweet, foward and unapologetic with her affections and here Mister pride and prejudice lover Jason has a romantic side. Jaystephers I'm serious, this can't be rushed, absolutely not and I'm being insistent because I came from reading an insane amount of jaysteph fanfics that almost all of them end up being porn with plot, I mean really good plot and also very skilled written porn... but still! "BONK" 🔨 go to horny jail! That can't happen in the comics 😂😂. With a slow burn unconvinced people will have enough time to process just how good is this ship. Simply it has to become a Romantic friendship before a potential romance and then an actual romance.

They have come a long way on their personalities, currently they aren't the same as they were before so if they started now it wouldn't be like the chaotic kind of toxic mess that it was Timsteph, because at that time they were insecure and irrational teenagers, honestly the writers messed them up a lot and I guess there's still a risk a new writer will fuck them up too but I'd like to think that if some writer goes for it they really have to like this ship and will try not to make it a complete toxic or cringy or a messed up disaster, if a writer chooses to do it I want to think is because they saw how much in common they have, how much their personalities are compatible, how good they would work together and how much they can relate to each other. What I mean is that there is a background where they can start even though they were never that close before and is all starting now, there is a lot of material to work! They don't have to make up things they only have to let it flow naturally, just put them together in a room and let them interact. I mean, right now he is a grumpy bad boy and Steph is a perky ballbuster, let's see how that goes.

The potential Romanticism of this couple is something really underrated, the two failures as Robins that walked on the same path, they own to have yet the "talk" About their respectives deaths and the subject about how Steph failed as a Robin because of being a reminder of Jason, they should talk about had him not died he would have been the one meeting her instead of Tim and wonder how things would have been then... They should team up more often and strengthen their bond, the need to build a romantic friendship, a dynamic that could drive us crazy and by the time they start flirting is going to be the BEST!! Just remember how Steph flirts shamelessly on duty 🤭🤭 but with Tim it was a bit boring, he always turns her down because he is such a good serious soldier 😑 and gets mad but with Jason? Unless he is specifically grumpy about something he would totally flirt back and totally flirt in front of villains while fighting until the villains can't take it anymore and just ask to be knocked out 😂😂😂 and also the chance to piss off Tim is just too good, I need to see it 😂😂😂. I mean, one I love about most Jaysteph fanfics is that Tim is always fucking pissed and grossed out about Jason dating Steph but normally is never about jealousy he is just overprotective (but casually they also add a jealous Damian who can't help but criticize Steph's taste in men 😂😂, I think is canon that he had a bit of a platonic crush on her when they met).

They have a lot of similarities but they aren't exactly the same, the things they have in common actually was used as an argument against it saying that just like with Babs he only had in common being a joker's victim, people thinks "dying" Is the only thing he has in common with Steph and they are very wrong: They both are members of Gotham's lowest class, both had drug addict mothers and criminal fathers, also Jason's real mom betrayed him and sold him out to the Joker and Stephanie's dad orchestrated a kidnapping of her and in the new 52 he kidnapped her and her killed her (even if he didn't meant to) and had to get revived by Lazarus pit goo, the way they died was also caused by the same stubborn need of proving themselves to Batman, doing something extremely reckless, also I have to point out that Steph has been compared to Dick, Barbara, Tim and Jason but it was her similarities with Jason what doomed her before DC decided to revive her, the writers did a messed up job with the principal reasons Batman rejected her so adamantly at some point but the principal one was that she reminded him of Jason and ironically he trying to prevent her from getting the same fate was what drove her to act and ending up like Jason and they both were officially the first black sheeps of the bat-family. But even with all that their personalities are both opposites and complimentary, I mean that despite having a similar trauma, when Steph came "back from the death" (The first "death") she became more positive and hopeful than before, she used to be more cynical and angry and unlike Jason whose resurrection was just as traumatic as his death and was not in his right mind, Steph returned to Gotham to once again try to belong and be a proper vigilante, she wanted to keep trying and do the right thing and fight to be accepted unlike Jason who at first he only wanted revenge. Steph can understand where he is coming from and be more indulgent to him than the rest of the family but at the same time she would stop him from going too far, she has the bravery to fight off trauma like the fear toxin and the will to never give up, so I see how she would never give up on Jason.

And don't you dare give me crap about this ship being absurd or something because this is not even the most out of the blue couple DC has ever done! I already mentioned Tim and Barbara🤬, Batman and Barbara💀 but also Raven and Damian 😒, Damian and wonder girl Cassie 😐Batman and wonder woman😒, Superman and wonder woman😐, green lantern Jonh and hawkegirl🥰, Superboy and miss martian😍, Lego Batman and Lego Barbara🤪, Martian Manhunter and Rose Wilson😶, beast boy and Rose Wilson🤯 (married and with a daughter), Jason and fucking Taliah (damians mother) had sex with him 💀(I hope he had at least 18) Dick and Helena Wayne 💀, Dick and Zatanna😑, Batman and Zatanna🙄, Jason and Starfire🙅‍♀️ and recently Jimmy Olsen and Supergirl 🤔 so.... Really? Jaysteph is so out of the blue and weird that should never happen? 🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄 I'm not even asking to make it happen in the main canon! Most of these ships didn't happen in the main canon, who cares about the main canon? THE MAIN CANON KILLED ALFRED (you committed a blaspheme DC) and also the main canon destroyed Jon Kent childhood by aging him up 🤬🤬, this is why the main canon is not important anymore, this is why alternative universe and independent comics are more popular, like Supersons, Family Wayne adventures or the teen Titans series drawn by Piccolo... So is asking for too much to have Jaysteph somewhere? An animated show? An alternative universe comic? A fucking webtoon?? There's not a good convincing reason to not give a chance to these couple! Let them have a chance!! 😣😣😣😭😭🙏🙏🙏

#jaysteph #jason todd #red hood #stephanie brown #the spoiler #batman #batgirl #the batman #dc #dcu #dc universe #dc comics #comics #dc robin #robin #the outlaws

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