#but i hope nobody does i feel so cringe

[canyourlawnmowerdothis]

having any tell that im in more pain than usual while at school makes me feel like some creepy hunched over creature in the woods limping around

[cosmicloved]

wahooooo

[gojorgeous]

“heatwaves”

pairing: alpha!gojo x omega!fem!reader summary: when a work trip takes you to japan, the last thing you expect is a heatwave... and some guy with blue eyes? content: MDNI (18+ only), nsfw, a/b/o dynamics, no established relationship, dubcon (i feel like it’s always kinda dubcon with a/b/o), p->v, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding, biting, blood, marking, spit, praise, swearing, pet names (baby/sweetheart/princess), brief mention/implication of pregnancy, knotting, reader gets picked up, reader is american, reader is unaware of their omega status, reader experiences their first heat, reader and satoru “bond” without having a fully conscious conversation, reader and satoru are early twenties. a/n: it's here! somebody spay me. by popular demand i have written alpha!gojo for you all… just a classic reader goes into an accidental heat at work and (x) character happens to be the nearest alpha LMAO. this is entirely uncreative, but i love it for that!!! straight smut with a little plot if you squint hard enough! i hope it lives up to your expectations. find my alpha!geto fic here and find the list of my 1k event fics here. enjoy and remember, ALL AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED! credits: dividers by @cafekitsune. wc: 5k

Nobody ever told you that Japan was so damn hot. 

Hot was not what came to mind when you’d heard you’d be taking a trip to Tokyo. Temples? Sure. Mt. Fuji? Great. Hot? No fucking way. 

But, here you were, boiling away under the sun on what you’d thought would be a fun little work trip. Instead, you were just suffering with every step, trying to listen to what Principal Yaga was saying and failing miserably. 

“These are the sparring courts. No students right now, but they’ll start training within the hour.” 

You rub at the back of your neck, cringing when your palm comes away coated with a thin layer of sweat. Gross. 

You lift your eyes to the sky, wondering how much longer this was going to take. Your little trip to Japan was to organize an exchange program with Jujutsu Tech. Your students had been begging to take a trip to Tokyo, to where their cursed energy would be closer to the source and, consequently, stronger. You had to admit, it was a good idea. A few months spent training here in Japan would do them good. From the moment you’d set foot on Japanese soil, your power had thrummed faster in your veins than ever before. 

Principal Yaga was giving you a tour of the grounds and had sealed your horrible fate when he’d decided to start outside. You barely heard a word the man said. New York was never this hot…

“Are you alright?” You blink, fanning your face as best you can. It provides no relief. God, it felt like the heat was penetrating your fucking bones… 

When your eyes slide to Principal Yaga, you’re surprised to see that he looks genuinely concerned. “Y-yeah.” You blink again, shocked by your own stutter. Maybe you were coming down with something? “I’m fine, just not used to this kind of heat, I guess.” You fan your face again and clench your jaw when it still does nothing. 

Yaga’s brows furrow and you see him glance around, like he’ll find said heat standing next to him. How was he wearing so many layers? 

“How about we head inside and take a break, then? We can continue the tour… later.” You nearly fall to the ground and kiss his feet. Air conditioning is truly God's gift to man… 

You smile and it’s all genuine. “That would be amazing. Thank you.” 

Yaga nods, but you think his eyes linger on you for just a beat too long before he turns. He still looks confused… or maybe flustered? That only leaves you confused. 

You follow after him, each step feeling like you’re sinking deep into cement. You tug at the collar of your shirt, trying to get some ventilation. When you finally reach the building you nearly sigh with relief. Air conditioning… that’ll be good. Just what you need. A few minutes inside and you’ll be good to go. You’ll just have to remember not to wear so many damn layers again when you continue the tour. 

You’re smiling as you step inside, so ready for relief that you’re practically shaking– but relief never comes. Your brows furrow. You brush your arm through the air. It… doesn’t help. It’s strange– you can feel the coolness of the air conditioning, feel it gliding up and across your skin, but the heat doesn’t subside, doesn’t so much as lessen. 

“I trust you know how to find anything you might–” Yaga clears his throat. “Need?” 

 Your brows furrow. He’d shown you all the school’s resources last night and your room was already stocked with food, toiletries, and every other thing you could possibly need. Of course you knew where everything was… 

“Yes… Thank you.” 

Yaga shifts so uncomfortably you think that maybe he’s about to pee his pants. “Right, well, you have my contact information. Let me know if I can be of assistance in connecting you to any… resources.”

You’re more confused now than you were at the start of this conversation. “Right…” 

“Take care.” 

Yaga shoots you one last– worried?- glance and stalks down the hall. You’re left wondering what the hell is happening in his mind and why he seemed so desperate to offer you resources? 

You blink, clearing your mind as best you can, but some sort of fog seems to be settling over your consciousness. Definitely coming down with something, you think. 

You make your way through the halls, steps still feeling suspiciously heavy and heat still radiating off your body. A cold shower. That’ll help. Or so you thought. The further you walk, the more each hallway starts to look like the next. Was it left or right next? Was this hallway always a dead end? Since when was there a bathroom there?

You’re leaning against the wall now, panting. Something is pooling in your gut, something warm and far too intense. Your inner thighs are wet, too. You want to convince yourself it’s sweat, but… you’re horny. More horny than you’ve ever been in your whole damn life. You think you might die if you don’t get some dick in the next ten minutes. What the fuck?

You slide yourself into the next room you see: an empty classroom. Thank fucking god. You grab the back of a chair, hands shaking with how hard you’re gripping the wood. You take a deep breath. You need to get a hold of yourself, need to figure out what the fuck is happening to you.  

You swallow and try your best to think. It’s not without difficulty. Your head feels like somebody’s filled it with glue. It takes a minute for a coherent thought to come through, but when it does, you think it’s a good one. Doctor. 

Yes– you don’t feel well, so obviously a doctor is the correct choice, right? You scramble for your phone in your back pocket but freeze when the brush of your own hand against your ass sends a jolt up your spine. What the fuck is wrong with you? 

Carefully, you extract your phone from your pocket, but it’s too difficult to even remember your fucking passcode. You press your thighs together, trying to relieve some of the overwhelming ache that’s forming between your legs. Something is definitely wrong.

You fumble with your phone, but your hands are shaking so hard it just tumbles to the floor. 

“Fuck,” you breathe. “Fuck, fuck, fuck?” 

“Yo, who’s baking cookies in here without me?” 

Your head snaps up and, with some difficulty, your eyes settle on a… man. You suck in a breath. He’s… dazzling. He’s wearing all black, but it’s not a student uniform. One of the teachers that you’ve yet to meet, then. White hair and pale skin contrasts against his clothes, but his eyes are covered by a pair of sunglasses set low on his nose. Even in your delirious state you still have the wherewithal to wonder who the fuck wears sunglasses inside. 

You get a quick look at him before a wave of intense- fuck, desire?- washes over you. You tremble again and shock yourself when a whimper tumbles from your lips. 

“Oh, shit,” you hear him say. You glance at him from the corner of your eye and watch him inhale again– deeply. His lips part. “Oh, shit.”

You clench your jaw and tighten your grip on your chair. Your legs are shaking now– you can barely stand. You squeak pitifully. 

The second the sound leaves your throat you hear footsteps– rapid, hurried, concerned, ones. Warm hands clasp your waist and you cry out at the touch, electricity sparking on your skin. 

“Shhh, it’s okay.” He turns you gently to face him, hands steadying your swaying body. “Who the fuck left you alone in here?” His hand is rubbing soothing circles on your lower back now and you think you’ve never felt something so good in your life. It’s so good that you almost miss what he said. Almost. 

“W-What?” You see his brows furrow as you peek up at him. At this angle you can see under his sunglasses. His eyes are blue. Really fucking blue. You think he might be the most attractive man you’ve ever seen, even with the expression of… anger?- that he’s currently wearing. 

“Whoever he is, I'll kill him.” 

That makes you blink. An extra sliver of clarity opens in your brain. “What are you talking about?”

He tugs you a little closer, wrapping an arm fully around your waist and pressing you up against him. You try to ignore the fact that you love it, that you want nothing more than to wrap yourself around him and climb him like a fucking tree. 

“What idiot leaves an omega going into heat?” He’s glaring at the doorway like he’s torn between staying here with you and running after said idiot to pommel him into the ground. 

“‘M not an omega.” The words are out before you’ve even stopped to consider them. It’s true. You’re not an omega. You’re a beta. You’ve always been a beta. You’ve got the little “B” on your ID card to prove it. You were tested at birth, just like everyone else, and even if you really were an omega you would have presented years ago.

He only glances down at you and snorts. “Funny, sweetheart.” His hand is still rubbing those little circles into your back and it’s enough to make that fogginess in your mind grow a little thicker. 

But your fear, your uncertainty outways your instinct. You pound a weak fist against his chest, not to push him away, but to get his attention. He’s still glaring at the doorway like he wants to murder it. 

“‘M serious,” you gasp. “I’m a beta… I don’... know whas’ happenin’… to me.” Each word is a tremendous effort to form. Your tongue seems to have lost its ability to do anything but hang limply. 

That gets his attention. He lifts a hand, gently brushing your hair back from your eyes and then cupping your jaw. “Is this your first heat?” 

You find yourself leaning into his touch despite the fact that you’ve only known him for thirty seconds. Your eyelids flutter. “N-Not a heat… jus’ feel… sick.”

His brows furrow again, deeper this time, and he shakes his head. “How old are you?”

You know why he asks. Most omegas present around eighteen or nineteen. “Older than… nineteen…” You try to laugh, but it only comes out as a whimper.

That answer only serves to make him push closer. You feel his hand trailing down your neck, skimming gently over the skin until he reaches a spot you hadn't even realized was so… sore. You keen at the touch. Fuck, no. There was no way. You had swollen fucking scent glands. 

You try to push away, but he pulls you in, burying his face in your neck. You shudder when he groans. “You smell like a damn bakery exploded,” he chuckles, and the sound is muffled by your skin. When he pulls away he makes it look like the action is physically painful. He cups your face again. “Hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but you’re an omega. If this is your first heat then…” he swallows and your eyes track the bob of his throat. “You’re just a late bloomer, baby.”

You shake your head desperately. It’s just the stupid heatwave. It’s just… hot outside… right? 

You try to think about how this could be possible. It could be that the test you took as a baby was wrong… it happened sometimes. It was rare, but it happened. But if you were an omega, what would have triggered your presentation now? What had changed? 

Your eyes widen. Japan. You’d set foot in fucking Japan. Ever since you’d gotten here, you’d felt power pulsing in your veins. Maybe it hadn’t been just power… 

“N-no–” 

A gentle thumb smooths over your cheek and you meet his eyes again. You shiver when you see a whole lot more black than blue. “You have no alpha?” 

You whimper, leaning into him. Touch me, touch me, touch me, a part of you begs. You shake your head again and a tear slides down your cheek. “No,” you whisper. 

Strong arms slide beneath your knees and you squeak when you’re suddenly suspended in the air. When you glance up he’s grinning triumphantly. “You have one now,” is all he says before he’s carrying you out of the classroom and twisting through the halls. 

Warmth rushes over you at the sensation of being held, and something begs you to give into it, to give into the heat still washing over you, to the throbbing between your legs. You fight it and fight it hard. 

“Where’re we going?” you ask, but your voice is sounding more and more like a whisper. 

His eyes stay focused ahead, even as he presses a comforting kiss to the crown of your head. “Your room, sweetheart.” 

Your brows scrunch. “How d’ you know where–” 

“‘M following your scent, baby.” 

He can do that? You bury your face in his neck, embarrassed, only to be hit by a different scent so delicious your mouth starts watering. You groan. Loudly. There’s a scent pouring from his neck that’s filling your head with memories of spices you can’t name, but suddenly know you love. 

You think you hear him chuckle and then feel a gentle hand on the back of your neck, encouraging you. You snuggle deeper into him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and burying your fingers in his hair. Taste him, taste him, taste him your mind chants. It’s too good an offer to deny. You lick a stripe across his skin. 

Your groans are instant. He’s squeezing you closer, leaning into your touch, and you’re pulling him closer. Your fingers curl into his jacket, tugging and tugging. You lick again and now he’s the one groaning. 

“Damn, that feels good,” He sounds as surprised by that fact as you feel. The swaying of his steps comes to a sudden halt. You whine, missing the rocking of his body. “Think we’re here, princess. This it?” His hand is smoothing over your hair, slowly coaxing you away from the curve of his neck. You blink, not wanting to leave the paradise of his scent, but also feeling some overwhelming urge to please him.

Your eyes settle on a door and you recognize a little chip in the wood. You nod. “Mhm.” 

You gasp when his hand grips your hip, wriggling through your pocket until he pulls out a little brass key. 

“Perfect,” he says, and his voice sounds like he’s all too pleased with himself. He shimmies your key in the knob until the lock clicks and then you’re inside. The door slams shut loud enough to make you jump and squeak. 

“Oops, sorry, baby. Guess I’m a little excited, heh.” His hand squeezes your hip soothingly and you mewl at the wave of heat that pulses through you. Your clit throbs almost painfully and you feel something gush onto your thighs. You whimper. 

He inhales. “Oh, shit,” he breathes, and then you’re moving again. He navigates your room like he knows it. He probably does. From what you can tell, most of the rooms at Jujutsu Tech follow a standard layout. He weaves down a hall to the left and then into your bedroom on the right. 

He lays you on the bed gently, tenderly, like he’s afraid you might break if he drops you so much as an inch. “There we go,” he breathes. You can’t deny that it feels good, that it feels right, to be lying on the softness of your mattress, but it’s not enough. 

You claw at him, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck and pulling him close. You want something from him, need something, but you can’t name what. You just know that the heat boiling beneath your skin can only be sated by him, that the throbbing between your legs can only be calmed by him. “P-Please,” you whimper. Tears well in your eyes. You need him so bad it physically hurts. 

The smile he gives you is soft and genuine and it takes your breath away. He dips his head and you think you see him slide those sunglasses down his nose and toss them to the side. You don’t pay too close attention, though, because he’s kissing your neck again and your body is screaming with sensation. 

“Aw, I know, baby. Don’ worry. ‘M gonna take care of you now. Jus’ relax.” 

His words spark something in you– your last bit of consciousness. A brief moment of clarity shines through the fog of your mind and you remember what the hell is happening, what the hell you’re doing. You squeeze your eyes shut and shake your head desperately. No, no, no, this is not happening to you. There’s no way.

“Hey, now. None a’ that.” Fingers clasp your chin, holding you still. When you peek your eyes open, you see that he has in fact removed his sunglasses and that his eyes are more black pupil than dazzling blue. His jaw is clenched and his breathing is heavy. “Don’t try t’ fight it. Jus’ try to enjoy it…” His head dips and suddenly he’s nipping at your scent gland again. 

You thrash and scream, but not in fear or pain. You’ve never felt something so good in your life. Every graze of his teeth feels like heaven. Your skin zings with electricity, sending pulses of pure need straight between your thighs. 

You grab at him, tangling your fingers in his hair and tugging him closer. Your chest is heaving when you speak. “Please, p-please-” 

“Shhh…” You think you hear your shirt tearing, but you’re too focused on pulling him closer to care. His tongue licks a stripe up your throat and your eyes roll back. 

You’re sure your shirt is off now. You can feel the cool air, but it does nothing to ease the heat raging inside you, pulsing and pumping through your veins.You feel him tugging at your pants, too, and you try to raise your hips. He only shushes you again. “Jus’ relax. Let me do the work, baby.” 

Your pants are gone in seconds, even without your assistance. So is your bra and then your panties. He tries pulling away to undress himself, but you mewl and his eyes blow even blacker before he’s back over you again. He settles for popping the buttons straight off his shirt and shimmying out of his pants. 

The sight of his bare skin makes you whimper and then you’re clawing at him again, dragging your fingers across his shoulders, over his chest, down his abs. It’s a greedy touch and one that he returns. His palms move along your body, kneading and squeezing at any flesh he can grab. It feels so good that you think you might pass out– but it’s still not enough. Something is still missing. You feel… empty. 

His fingers trace across your stomach and it’s too late to realize what’s happening before he’s circling your clit. You jerk and jolt at the touch, but he presses his chest to yours, pinning you. The throbbing only worsens when his fingers settle into a rhythm. 

Tears leak down your cheeks. It’s too overwhelming. You’re burning– burning from the inside out. The pulsing between your thighs is all-consuming with its intensity, with its-

“Need! N-Need–” you’re crying out, but you don’t even know what to ask for– don’t even know what you need. 

“God, Fuck, I know, princess,” he groans. He licks a long stripe up your neck. “But ‘s your first heat. Gotta–” he has to pause to swallow. He’s panting, now, just as lost as you are, and you get the sense that he’s restraining himself. “Gotta get you ready… go slow.” 

You shake your head. Now, now, now is all you can think. You need him now. “No… please…” You bury your head in his neck and find that spot that’s pouring his spicy scent into the air. Your mouth waters and you lick him, letting your teeth graze his skin.

“Fuck!” He shivers atop you and you feel the pure strength restrained within his muscles. “Fuck- okay. Okay. Relax f’ me, princess.” 

You try, you really do, but your body refuses to do anything but try to pull him closer. You feel his fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs, pressing them up, up, up until they’re pressed tightly to your chest and your feet are dangling on his shoulders. The position makes you whine, feeling more exposed than you ever have before. 

“You on birth control, baby?” 

Your brows furrow. It’s becoming harder and harder to focus on what he’s saying rather than simply the sound of his voice. Were you? You try to think, try to remember through the pit of glue that is your brain. No…

You shake your head. “N-No…” 

There’s a slight pause, a beat of contemplation, and then he’s laughing. “Guess I’m bouta be a daddy then, heh.” He chuckles again and the sound rings through you with a wave of pure bliss. His lips brush your neck again, settling on your pulse and making you whine. “Don’t really mind as long as I get you.” Your head rolls back submissively, exposing your throat. Yes, yes, yes, your mind screams. There’s nothing you want more than that, you think.“Okay, here we go, baby.” 

There’s hardly any more warning. One second you feel him shifting between your thighs and the next he’s pressing inside of you, feeding his cock in inch by inch. The stretch is… delicious. It burns, fuels that fire inside you, but it makes the heat feel more… pleasurable. Your back arches and your head rolls back submissively. 

“Oh, fuck, princess.” His voice has gotten higher, more like a whine than anything else. When you gaze up at him you can see the flush in his cheeks, even through the fog in your mind. More, more, more your mind screams. Or maybe you say it aloud, because more is exactly what he gives you. The second you feel him tucked up against your cervix the second he begins to take you. He sets a pace that is somehow both brutal and gentle, with strokes that rattle your skull and also give you exactly what you need. His hands grip your hips, holding you still to take exactly what he wants to give. His head dips until he has his lips wrapped around your nipple, and his tongue is swirling so deliciously that you can’t help but drag your nails down his back. 

Your body rocks with every thrust, teeth rattling and eyes rolling. The heat inside you grows… tighter, like it’s all pooling to your core, waiting for something you still can’t quite name. 

“N-need…” You don’t know what you need, still. Only that you want to beg for it so badly it hurts. 

His tongue slides away from your nipple, tracing a line up between the valley of your breasts, over your collarbone, before he finally settles on your pulse once again. The nick of his teeth makes something click in your mind. This is what you need. Bite me, bite me, bite. Claim me, claim me, claim me. 

“Yes,” you breathe. Your fingers dig into his scalp, pulling him closer, coaxing his teeth to sink in, to stake their claim. “Oh God, yes. Please.” You sound delirious, you think, but then so does he when he answers. 

“Not yet, princess. Not yet.” His tongue darts out to lick across your neck again and you can only sob. Why not yet? Now, now, now… 

Tightness coils in your muscles, the throb at your core reaching a breaking point. You feel something coming, something like an orgasm but yet also not. You know that when whatever is pooling inside you releases, you will shatter, and you’re not sure you’ll ever be put back together. 

Your nails claw across his back hard enough to draw blood and the action forces out some sort of low grumble from his chest that makes you whimper and melt into the mattress. The tip of his nose draws a line up your throat. “Keep doin’ that, baby. Mark me up.” 

You don’t dare deny him. You scratch at his skin, desperately trying to pull him closer. His thrusts grow faster and your thighs begin to tremble and shake on his shoulders, overwhelmed with the intensity of all you’re feeling. You pull at him, grab at him, thread your fingers through his hair. 

Your body jolts with each thrust and you’re sure you’re going to burst any moment. But you can’t. Not yet. You still need something, something he hasn’t given you yet. He groans and the sound is so delicious that you feel it sliding over your skin and settling in your bones. 

“M’ gonna knot you now, princess,” he breathes. “Gonna make you feel so good. Gonna take care ‘ve you.”

You whimper at his words. You hope they’re true. You don’t think you can take much more of the incessant gnawing of need in your gut. 

“Please…” your voice is hardly more than a whisper. His breath is hot as it shakes against your neck. He’s licking and nipping at you ravenously, like he needs you just as badly, like he wants to claim you as badly as you want to be claimed. 

His thrusts quicken even further and your jaw falls open, neck arching. You don’t think you can hold on much longer. Apparently, neither can he. 

You feel it the moment he starts to swell inside you. It’s perfect, you think. It can’t get better than this– but then it does. 

His teeth graze your throat again, this time a little harsher and with a little more intent. “Mine,” he whispers. The second he bites you everything goes blurry. 

You’re experiencing… heaven. There is a rush of that electricity that buzzes under your skin. It bursts forth and you feel it reaching out, forming a link between the two of you that you know is now impenetrable. It pulses and burns and you can feel him, feel his pleasure, his desire, his need for you and only you– his need to make you his. You think your souls must be blending, merging, with how deep the connection runs. You think you know him, know everything you could possibly ever need to. You know he’s the one. You know he’s yours.

It’s perfect, the way it fulfills every desire you’ve ever had, the way he notches inside your cunt like that’s where he was made to be, the way his teeth clamp around your throat and bond you together forever.

You scream for him, you think, but you can’t tell through the complete and total haze of pleasure. Your walls spasm around him, milking him for every last drop, and you feel the heat of his cum coating your cervix. The heat at your center finally releases, bursting and flooding through you in a way that feels like pure bliss has been injected into your veins. Your thighs quake and tremble with the pure intensity of it all and white spots dot your vision. 

His body is tense above you, shivering with the magnitude of what’s just happened. He’s groaning into your neck, your flesh still clamped between his teeth like he never wants to let go. You’re not sure you ever want him to. 

Your breaths shake in and out, lungs heaving as you finally come down. His knot is still settled deep inside you and with the few strings of consciousness that slowly filter back into your mind you know that he’ll remain there for a while.

His teeth release from your neck with a squelch that you think you would be sickening in any other context, but only makes you whimper at the loss of contact. He only hums and finds your hand, twining your fingers together as he laps at the fresh bite on your throat. It feels… amazing. Not in the way it felt before, like he was licking pure lust straight onto your skin, but more like he’s giving you a comfort you have never known in your life. You feel safe in his arms, like nothing could ever hurt you here. 

His lips press a final kiss to your throat before you feel him shifting. He gently rolls you both onto your sides, getting comfortable and pulling you to his chest while you both wait for the next wave of lust to hit you. It will, you know. Sooner rather than later, too. Your mind has cleared enough to realize what’s happening, what’s to come. You won’t be leaving this room, this bed, for quite some time. 

A gentle hand brushes a sweaty lock of hair from your eyes before it settles on the nape of your neck, massaging the sore muscles there. You sigh and raise your gaze to find him already looking at you, an easy smile on his lips. He has dimples, you realize, and he’s… breathtaking. And now… he’s all yours.

There’s a beat of silence between you, a moment of reconciliation with what’s just happened between you, of what it means. You blink up at him, your lips parting to say something, anything, but instead your brows furrow in thought.

His smile drops instantly. He leans into you, thumb caressing your cheek. “What is it, sweetheart?” 

Your mouth runs dry. You peek up at him from beneath your lashes. “What’s your name?”

taglist (dm me or send an ask to be added!): @lacheri, @la-undercover-latina, @fushironi, @enchantedsylveon, @keiva1000

link: alpha!geto

link: 1k followers event!

please consider leaving a comment, sending an ask, or reblogging! interacting with authors is the best way to support them! thanks for reading ♡

[jamespotterismydaddy]

Blood or Contract

aemond x wife!reader

A/N: writing this made me a tad bit sad but I hope the requester enjoys😭 request is here

summary: your husband finds humour in harsh words spewed at your family

TW: angst

word count: 762 words

When Vaemond Velaryon spoke that filth about your mother, about you and your siblings, you had of course expected your husband to support you in your rage. All Aemond did was smile. You even believe that he would have laughed if it wasn’t so improper. He had always cared for propriety and his family much more than yours. But you thought he favoured you more than that. You thought you were important to him.

“You’re upset.” He states when you enter your private chambers. “You’ve been quiet since the succession claims. I would have thought you would be pleased.”

You turn to look at him, even more hurt when he can’t understand why you feel this way. “You were amused.”

He clearly doesn’t know what you’re referring to. How can he not know what you’re referring to?

“About what?”

“Vaemond Velaryon called my mother a whore and you practically laughed!” You raise your voice at him. “He called my brothers bastards! He called me a bastard.”

“I was amused by his audacity.” He says coolly.

“That sentence amuses me.”

“Don’t accuse me. I would protect your honour with my life.” You want to think he means it but you can’t.

“Then why didn’t you take his head yourself?” It is perhaps a silly question but you’re angry and you want him to feel it.

He scoffs. “I’m not so reckless as Daemon.”

“You could have had the decency to look angry about it.” You sigh. “A whore, Aemond. He called my mother a whore.” There’s hardly much worse for a woman to be called. All sorts of demeaning repression bundled up into a single adjective.

“You are my family. I am eternally defensive of you.”

“My family is yours as well.”

He almost seems to cringe at the concept of that.

“He called me a bastard.” Such a strong word, a disparaging remark that you haven’t been able to escape your entire life. It’s sticky on the soles of your feet, a stain on your dress that you can’t remove. It’s in the colour of your hair and your eyes and it follows and draws attention like a shadow that has decided to glow bright.

“You’re different.”

There couldn’t have been a worse response.

“I am the same as them and there is nobody I would want to be more binded to.” He wants you to speak these words about him; he's your husband. There shouldn’t be another person in all of fucking Westeros that you speak about this way.

“You are more than them.” He says. It’s supposed to be a compliment.

“Why, because you can fuck me? Because I shall carry your heirs? Your children, if they will grow in my womb, will be just as damned as I am. Their blood will be just as tainted.” The words are full of such venom that it angers him. He adores you and yet he despises the blood that’s in your veins.

“Nothing made by you could ever be damned.” Oh, the blasphemy. You wonder if he would ever say such a thing in the presence of a septon, or perhaps in the presence of his mother. “I won’t have you speak of yourself in such a way.”

“I can’t, but you can? The word ‘bastard’ used to tumble from your lips like prayers.”

“I have apologized for that. I swore I would never use such a word to describe you or your brothers again and I haven’t.” He defends himself, perhaps it is a fair defence.

“In my presence, you have not.” It’s a half agreement.

“I won’t be called a liar by my own wife.” His jaw clenches.

“I don’t recall using that word.” You say as you give him an innocent look. He sighs again, rubbing his temples.

“What does it matter now? We are wed. You are royalty and a Targaryen.”

“By blood or by marriage?”

“My love-“ He starts. He wants to talk you down.

“Am I worthy of you only because I am married to you?”

Is it some fucked paradox?

“I shan’t warrant such a silly question with an answer.”

Is that all you are? A silly girl?

“I’m going to my chambers.” You whisper out and what an off putting sentence it is. You practically live in Aemond’s chambers. Everyone considers them yours as well. The other ones are only kept for propriety’s sake. And now you’re leaving them.

“I don’t want that.” Is all he can say.

“Will you command me to stay?”

He doesn’t. He wouldn’t.

You walk out the door.

taglist (comment to be added): General: @valeskafics @urmomsgirlfriend1 @girlwith-thepearlearring @darylandbethfanforever9 @lovellies @juhdoche @papichulo120627 @watercolorskyy @ophelialaufey @aerangi

[citrustan]

slipping through my fingers [2] (myg)

title: and the hits just keep coming 1.0

pairing: min yoongi x reader

genre: dilf!yoongi, exes and co-parents au, angst!, fluff, smut

summary: you lean on your friend for support and an escape, but the reality of your situation keeps flashing before you.

warnings: [there's a prologue and part 1 that should be read before this one!] just some insecurity, some sad vibes, you know the drill.

Taehyung fails to dodge the fifth pillow you launch at him. "Let me explain!" Repeatedly begging you to stop, he crashes into your kitchen counter.

A pillow to his leg.

"Wait! Please!" He's dodging for his life.

Another pillow to his chest.

"You're an angel! Pleas-" Headshot!

"Ough! Not the face..." He pauses to soothe his aching nose.

By now, you're out of energy too. But, there's still a lot of anger in your stomach. You're too guilty and too tired to let it out on the wrong person.

You spent over twenty minutes reprimanding him for hiding Yoongi's fiancée from you.

Finally having a fraction of a minute of peace, your friend sits you down by your dinner table.

He disappears into the kitchen, leaving you to cradle and console your heart by yourself.

You hear a few utensils clashing and see him juggling four things in his hands; your cat mug, his designated frog mug, a bottle of white chocolate liqueur and a carton of what looks like chocolate milk.

Pointing your finger at the tetra pak, you protest, "Excuse you, that's the expensive chocolate milk and it’s for Nao."

He looks at the half-empty carton in his hand and back at you.

"You're telling me Nao drank more than half of this bottle in a day? And you let her?" Taehyung deadpanned.

...

"Yeah." Your eyes wander as you insist poorly.

He ignored you and poured you a glass of the milk.

Sitting across from you, he grew solemn, "_____, I swear I didn't know it was like this." - "But you knew about her?" You asked before he said anything else.

Taehyung couldn't deny it, "Yeah. But I thought she would just be like the others."

Yoongi had others.

All grumpy, you sigh. "The others?"

Momentarily, he froze and exhaled. "Yeah, there have been a few. He was... I don't know. He kept saying he was serious about each of them but nobody ever... stuck around? So, we thought he was lying or something." Taehyung regretted his choice of words.

You want to believe him, but you both know that Yoongi isn’t someone who lies like that. Let alone big lies, Yoongi won't even tell little white lies.

Over the years, you naturally assumed he was dating around, but you didn't know. Nothing was confirmed. You never asked and he never told you anything himself.

"Who all knew?"

"Everyone. But nobody even imagined that they'd be getting hitched." He shook his head in disbelief.

“Obviously. This is Yoongi you’re talking about,” you pause, “But didn’t you notice anything different with them?”

“I’m telling you, _____, we had no idea.” Taehyung cringes after taking a sip of the sweet liqueur. “I think he wanted to tell you first.”

You wish he never had.

"What are you thinking?"

You dip your head in between your palms, “I feel terrible. It’s like I know I want to cry but I’m so emotionally stunted right now, I cannot get it out. It’s like a stuck yawn.”

Taehyung caresses your arm, "Can I do anything to help?"

You shake your head, "I don't think so, Tae."

"Oh! Do you want to watch 'The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas?' Maybe that will help you cry." He tilts his head, eyes filled with hope.

At that, you let out a surprised laugh, "Taehyung, no!"

Basking in the little moment of success (by making you laugh), Taehyung internally pops confetti.

But, the moment was just that. A moment. Your happiness faded away as quickly as it came.

So, he pulled his phone out and placed it in front of you.

Taehyung’s hesitant to ask you this but he does it anyway. “Do you want to see her?”

You don’t know. (You’d rather pretend she doesn’t exist.)

If it weren’t for Nao, you’d have no problem ignoring Yoongi’s girlfriend. Even thinking of the words ‘Yoongi’s girlfriend’ makes you want to end it all.

It’s no secret that you’re still madly in love with your ex-boyfriend.

This situation felt so ridiculous to you, you couldn’t digest it. You couldn’t believe this was actually happening to you.

As a young girl, you never thought it was in the books for you to go through this kind of pain. And, you don’t have a whole lot to lean on. So, Yoongi has always been it for you. He always told you he’d be there for you no matter what.

Even after your breakup, he was by your side.

When you unexpectedly caught the chicken pox from Nao, he took care of you. Even when Taehyung insisted on helping you instead, Yoongi sent him away.

You shared every birthday with him. He’d throw you a small party. Every year, it was a different theme. This year was ‘enchanted garden.’ He always ordered you a custom cake from out of town. It made everything special.

He even helped you open your quaint little bakery. Yoongi was the one who helped you finalize your menu. He tasted everything and even got himself sick because of it.

He stood by you when you got sued by your competition, another old-timey cake shop, for stealing their clients and recipes. He acted as your lawyer free of charge.

Now, you wonder if it was all out of convenience or… an obligation. Had you read it all wrong? Was he simply being polite because you’re the mother of his daughter? Would he stop doing things for you now? Did he ever do those things for you? Or were they simply for your daughter by extension?

Would he be too focused on his wife now?

Even for Nao’s sake, you never once got the urge to know the woman who did the unthinkable.

As a co-parent, you trusted Yoongi. You knew Yoongi would never let just anyone around Nao. If he wants to introduce his daughter to a woman, you knew it was safe. She could be the next Mother Teresa for all you know.

All this blind trust has been earned by him throughout the years you’ve spent with him, you’re not a careless mother.

However, as a woman and Yoongi’s ex-flame, you weren’t eager to know the woman who replaced you. You don’t want to see or meet her. In your eyes, she was able to compel Yoongi to do something he wouldn’t do even after you begged him to. Maybe she didn’t even have to try. She was probably just that perfect for him.

This is apart from the fact that he fell in love with another woman after you while you’re still hung up on him.

You don’t think you can afford to willingly take a hit to your self-confidence like that.

Nao looks up to you. You know you cannot lose yourself when you have so much relying on you.

Taehyung was kind enough to let you get lost in your thoughts.

“No.” You finally answer his question.

You did not want to see what she looked like.

Taehyung nodded once, “Okay. That’s fine.”

Just when Taehyung’s about to put his phone back into his pocket, it rings.

And on the screen pops this gorgeous woman. She looked like she stepped straight out of an issue of Harpar’s Bazaar or even Vogue. You weren’t surprised, you smiled and involuntarily snorted. Taehyung did have a type.

He hurriedly tried to pull his phone off the table, knocking your (thankfully, empty) glass of milk in the process.

“You don’t have to hide her from me, Vincent.” You tease him, using his artist alias. “Is she your new muse?”

Taehyung awkwardly laughed, blatantly ignoring your question.

Suddenly, he changes the topic, “Oh! Do you have to go into work today?”

Your smile drops a little. “Hey. What are you doing here?”

He offered a strained smile, “It’s like I can feel the alcohol in my veins.”

“Heyyy... What’s up with the model babe? Why are you deflecting?” This time you pout.

You hear his phone ring once again. But he immediately declines.

“Taehyung… What’s the matter?” When he refuses to acknowledge you, you grow more concerned.

“You don’t have to stay, you know?” You continue to reassure him.

“It’s not,” he cuts himself off, “That wasn’t my girlfriend.”

Taehyung hopes he doesn’t have to face your inevitable question in line.

“Well, who was that the….” When you trail off mid-response, he knew you had figured out who that woman really was.

The two of you are silent for a moment.

Sullen, you whisper, “That’s his fiancée?”

Taehyung wishes he never came over to your place. He didn’t want to be the one to make you feel this way.

He nods once. Not that you needed that confirmation.

Quickly moving on to your next thought, you question, “Why is she calling you?”

Already on it, Taehyung visibly cringes at the messages on his screen when you push yourself forward to peek into his phone. This time, he doesn’t try to obstruct your vision.

Hyejin (3)

Sorry! I forgot you were at _____’s. It’s nothing important, I just had a question about Nao-chan. Does she like lemon cake? How is _____ doing btw?

Your mouth dropped open.

You don’t even acknowledge the fact that she’s speaking about you so personally; as if you were a friend or even an acquaintance.

You ignore the fact that she’s fucking stunning, owning the most symmetrical, aesthetically pleasing face you’ve ever seen on a grown woman.

You don’t even dwell about how you do not stand a chance against this woman.

The only thing you see is her nickname for your daughter. You squeak, “She calls her Nao-chan!”  

That’s YOUR name for YOUR babygirl.

“Angel…” Taehyung begins but has no idea what he could possibly say to comfort you.

Pull yourself together. You mentally discipline yourself. It takes a minute for you to get there.

Instead of dealing with whatever you just felt, you push it away in an instant and beam at your friend.

“Whatever. Let’s get cheesy naan and shrimp skewers!”

Of course, your faux smile didn’t fool Taehyung, but he went with it anyway.

₊˚.🎧 ✩｡tears are in your eyes by yo la tengo ₊˚.🎧 ✩｡

note: i hope i'm doing this series justice lol the ideas in my head run too wild for me to actually make note of them. please let me know what you guys think!

[jinkiezzsstuff]

TYSM FOR THE LADY GAGA FIC!!!!

I have another song fic request...

Alastor (or anyone else really lmao) has to find reader in order to patch up like a deal or smth idk and he finds them in this jazz club thing performing on the stage to 'Noel's lament' from 'ride the cyclone'? Like she's draped across a piano singing abt when she was living she was nobody but in her dreams she was this absolute femme fatale and alastor just watches her from the back of the crowd??

So niche but I was thinking abt it all night

Lots of love 🤍

i actually loveeee this song eeeee i’m so happy to do this, and i am so glad you liked the last one it means so much to me teehee sorry this took awhile i’ve been busier lately but i hope you enjoyed this, maybe i’ll do a part two but if i do it may be real delayed until i clear my plate lol!

song referenced; noel’s lament

warnings: implied to be succubus reader but their not really to standards of succubus, i don’t believe there are feminine pronouns here but there are certain feminine things (dress wearing, feminine terms like suductresd etc), no psychical descriptions of reader as per usual, minor gore and death, reader is sneaky and slipper, alastor is weird about love as he should king, but he still feels emotion, possible cringe parts idk it’s a songfic and sometimes they can be 50/50. LMK if i missed any!

word count: 2.7K

You had a debt to pay, you had to have known this. Alastors mind reeled as he toyed with the pen in his hand, occasionally scribbling nonsense down as he thought. You were always quite the slippery sinner, never being tied down to one place in the pentagram, but this was just ridiculous. Since he’d been back, and warmed up to the hotel, he’d been searching for you, but no sign. No demon has said a word about you either had he still been in touch with Vox he may have had you found by now.

You weren’t dead, and that’s as much as he knew; he would’ve felt your souls absence if you’d died, the fickle fun of making such contracts. There was little he knew about you personally, he new superficial things but nothing that would give him a clue on where you’d hide, a silly mistake on his part. He knew Mimzy would be were the cash or party was, Husk wherever there was a gamble and Nifty, well, normally she never strayed far anyways. As for other souls they were about the same in simplicity, whether they were murderous or cannibals they always had something keen to them that would lead him to where they were.

Alastor failed that with you, unfortunately he’d found himself a little at loss with you, in more ways than one you boggled his mind. He was used to women and men alike hitting on him or being incredibly provocative, but there was some way you did it that made him speechless. Not like when Angel would hit on him, where Alastor felt that sensation of being caught off guard with disgust and shock. No, on the night you made the deal, you were stalking around the back of his sofa inside his radio tower, your hands caressing his shoulders as you passed, sweetly and mischievously offering a pleasurable favour in return for his help. That was something else, that was unique to you.

He still recalls the memory as if he was still right there on the couch, engulfed in your scent, entranced by your siren-like voice, it made him hot under the collar and tight around the waist. Thankfully Alastor was a gentleman and a businessman and there was no way you were getting out of a soul contract through some silly sexual favours. It was definitely trying to keep his composure as your lidded eyes watched his lips move, but he managed as he always does. The deal was fairly boring on your part- you wanted to be his friend.

Red flags appeared in Alastors mind about the validity of that but shook on it nonetheless, however that was all before he disappeared. He’d not held up his end of the bargain but then again neither did you; you didn’t show when he called on you to the hotel and try as he may, couldn’t seem to summon you the way he could with Husk.

Dropping the pen, Alastor stood from his seat and shadowed into the floor, stalking out the window like a snake. Alastor decided a little stroll couldn’t hurt, after all his mind couldn’t rest and perhaps he could happen upon you out in sin city. Alastor enjoyed his time walking, humming and basking in all the horrors that happened around, however he grew bored fairly quickly, and decided to take a detour into Mimzy’s favourite joint.

Alastor walked in like he owned the place and seated himself at the bar waiting for his dear friend. “Mimzy dear, how’ve you been?” Alastor spoke out excitedly and loudly, catching the attention of his fellow demon who had appeared from the back of the bar. Mimzy squeaked and ran up to Alastor on the other side of the bar, shooing off the other demons trying to pull at her, the trim of her dress flying in all directions as she hopped and scuttled. “Alastor! What brings ya here, big man? Coming for a dance?” His smile was indifferent as she spoke but he was quite pleased to see the doll, someone of routine. He watched the demon plop herself down on the seat beside him, his hand fiddling with the whisky in his cup that he magicked up. “Yes dear, afraid I have quite the slippery soul in my hands.”

With both elbows on the table Mimzy leaned in, an excited smile on her face. Alastors head fell to the side, sighing at her desire for gossip, Alastor pushed up his monocle and explained the situation with you briefly. He probably went into too many details about how you looked, or smelt, or perhaps how he thought of you in his absence because the whole time Mimzy was coy and giggles. “Wow Al, sounds like you’re carryin’ a torch for this gal’,” Mimzy teased, walking her fingers across the table in his direction. Alastor stiffened at that watching her do her silly tease wide eyed. What a juvenile thing to assume, that he had feelings for some sinner. “Mimzy, don't be ridiculous!” Alastor scoffed grin still present as he threw his limp hand her way, head tossed back. “There’s no such thing! Besides she’s nothing more than some sensuous succubus, it’s what those types of demons do. Seduce.”

Crossing her arms Mimzy let out a flat ‘mhm’ clearly not convinced by what was being said. “Well Al, tell ya what! You have my back next time some nasty loan sharks come, and i’ll tell ya where your pretty seductress is.” Alastors nails tapped against the table rhythmically as he silently pondered, it’s not like he’d say no to her, just as she wouldn’t say no to him. Fixing his posture from his more lesuride position, he agreed with a nod, gulping back the last of his liquor.

-

This club Alastor stepped into was very reminiscent of a wealthy man’s speakeasy, something that was nestled safely in the depth of the pentagram in an unassuming alley, as if it were hiding from something or someone. It was nostalgic for him, in a sickening way, Alastor didn’t enjoy remembering mortal life as it seemed so detached from him and who he is now. His red eyes danced across the room manically, his static following in suit with every glance he gave. Searching for his little succubus. Low amber lighting, that stuffy smell of smoke in the air, the velvet chairs, surrounding chatter and the piano playing smooth jazz; Alastors body subconsciously relaxed into the familiar environment, as much as he hated his mortal life there were such aspects like this he missed.

He dragged himself inside and sat in a red velvet chair, immediately he slumped onto the table, his elbows on the table, his chin rested on his hand while the other toyed with the fire from the candle, bringing it up, around, and high and low. His eyes dragged over to the stage as the piano rifted into a new tune, the lights in the room dimming and brightening toward the stage. Inwardly, Alastors frustrations imploded making his skin hot and his antlers grow in size; all the light to see you with now focused on the stage for a performance he couldn’t care less about.

Standing to his feet, Alastor gripped his microphone like it was his life line. With a strained smile he began towards the door as the music began, and a voice started introducing themselves and talking about their dreams, however he was too busy being frustrated, and scanning the room for you to fully pay attention to the voice. That was until- “A hooker with a heart of black charcoal.” A breathy voice finally sang out, grabbing the attention of Alastor as he neared the exit. Freezing the static sounds of radio station channels sounded out from him, his eyes widening at the sound of you.

Turning abruptly on his heel, he looked over the crowd of seated heads and at the stage where you were walking on. There was a light focused down on you as you slunk out from behind a curtain furthest from the piano. Straightening his back, Alastor slipped into the shadows and behind a pillar near the bar, just to wait for you of course, to come off. “I write poems to burn by fire light, drink champagne and guzzle gin, good girls call me ‘The Town Bicycle’- don't knock it til you’ve tried my life of sin,” Alastor watched enchanted as you dragged your heels across the stage as you sung, making your way over the piano with seductive grace, something Alastor wasn’t used to being so hooked by.

“Oh, Claude, my pimp knows neva mess with me,” Your voice, once serene and beautiful now, was demonic and harsh, capturing the audience's attention. “Last prick did that faded quick to black,” Like a switch your voice returned to its sweetness, your arms outstretched just slightly, fingers twinkling to emphasise the ‘fade’ you sang of. Alastor couldn’t look away from how you manuerved your body, how your voice carried through the room, and how the lights sparkled against your jewellery. You were a sight for sore eyes as you teasingly brought yourself closer to the piano, that regular soft bedroom look in your eyes. “I have no idea where to find him officers,”

Alastors brow quirked at that, as your hands came up to cup your face with false naïveté. “But if you do, please mention that I’d like to have returned that pretty knife, that I stuck, ten. times. in his, back!” You grit out, sweet façade falling once more making Alastors tail wag, unbeknownst to him. There was something about the way you pulled and pushed the narrative in the song that made him antsy, excited even, and the fact that this was something you stated you dreamed to be, meaning whilst alive you dreamt of killing, of being bad, oh that made Alastors blood rush.. You waltzed around as you continued to sing the lyrics to the chores, Alastors eyes watched closely as you slithered your body effortlessly up onto the piano.

It was like you were made for performing, singing, and he had the brief fantasy of you in his studio singing on air, sat on his lap as you sung through his microphone for the folks of hell to hear, but he pulled himself out of it quickly, scolding himself for indulging in silliness. Now your body was draped across the obsidian piano that shone the reflections of the light, you sat on your hips, legs folded behind you, hands over your heart. “He said ‘I think I am in love with you’- I’ve heard that lie a million times before,” Your posture fell slightly as did your tone, it seemed that there was some truth and sombre in the lyrics you sang, and in a way Alastor felt like he could relate to that; after all what even was love?

It made him feel weak to pity you, to attempt to empathise with your pain, but there was barely any time to think about his thoughts because just as he did, you’d recapture his attention entirely. “Oh, tonight I give into the fantasy,” Your head fell back, sorrow in your tone as your hand caressed your shoulder, pulling down the strap of your dress. “Take love when you can, when you’re a whore.” After a silent moment the chorus picked up, as did you, sliding yourself off the piano and dancing around with a smile. Unfortunately Alastors mind lagged behind, something was just too vulnerable in the way you sang about love, and considering it wasn’t something he often thought about, it peaked his curiosity just slightly.

It wasn’t until the end of the performance when you sung about your death that Alastors attention zeroed back in on you, his eyes catching yours as the song fell out, your head turned in his direction. He watched as your eyes widened and mouth fell slightly ajar before you sang out one last word: a ‘hey’ coincidentally directed toward Alastor. After that the lights on stage shut off instantly, and the crowd applause began.

Alastor watched you be dragged off stage by two larger demons through the darkness, your legs flailing as your arms were restrained, at the sight the purpose of him being here returned. Pushing himself off the pillar he was leant against, he brushed himself off and straightened the crimps in his pants, before picking up his microphone and making his way towards where you’d been dragged. It was a cruddy little backstage area, he’s under the assumption the performers here weren’t treated as kindly as the guests. Throwing the door open he was greeted by the sight of you, the two demons who dragged you off, and some other third one.

You sat on an ottoman in the middle of the room, your entire essence changed as you curled into yourself, your head hung low. Humming, Alastor adjusted his monocle. “Am I interrupting something?” Oh how Alastor loved to play dumb, he watched the third demon, seemingly imp, stand straight anger evident and radiating off of him. “Yeah you really fuckin are red, get outta here now.” The imp barked throwing his hands up in a shooing motion. Your eyes met Alastors, begging silently to stay. “I’m afraid i can’t do that you silly lug,” Alastor tutted joyfully stepping into the room throwing his microphone around like it was a toy. His shadows crawled out from beneath his feet, sneaking up the walls and across the ceilings making the three men anxious. “This little canary happens to me mine, soul and all.” His voice shifted to a more demonic one as the hues in the room shifted.

You sat speechless, watching the mysterious deer defend you after seven long years of being on hold with him. You were surprised he came at such a time, convenient for you. The two muscle demons were quick to puff their chests and step toward Alastor, but before they could properly swing, tentacles emerged from the shadows gripping the torso and hips of the men and pulling them in two. The screams were horrific, and the sounds of squelch and ripping nearly made you yourself sick, however it did the job for the littler imp as he immediately caved. “Oh okay okay, alright buddy, take the siren, no problem take em! Go!” The imp stressed while pulling you from your seat and toward Alastor hurriedly.

You stumbled against his pushing and found yourself falling accidentally into Alastors arms, tripping over your own heel. Alastor caught you without even looking down, arms wrapping instinctively around you as he glared at the imp with a smile. “Oh good, I would have hated to have caused a scene! Ha ha.” Alastor laughed humorously, although he was the only one finding any joy from this as the imp cowered away from the two of you. Pulling you closer to his body, Alastor fell into the ground with you, your body feeling freezing and damp for a moment before normalcy returned.

You didn’t realise you had your hands over your eyes until you felt Alastors hands grip your wrists, and pull your hands away. You blinked up at him before glancing around the room, it was indeed a room, one you’d never seen. “We're at the Hazbin Hotel dear, time for you to see to your deal.” Alastor said calmly, his tone even and his voice soft, his even his static was at a minimum. “Of course,” You say clearing your throat and backing up from his grasp. He didn’t fight against your distance, letting his arms fall and wrap behind his back as they normally would. “Why did you help me back there? I mean you could’ve just poofed us away?” You ask, rubbing the places on your arms where the demons dragged you.

“Why, thats what friends are for my dear! That was our deal, no? To scare off the threats and protect each other?” Alastor coyly hummed, bending slightly at the waist. Looking down slightly you nodded, hands coming up to sit on your waist. Sighing you shook your head, you should’ve known that this would come back to bite you in the ass eventually. “Alright slick, what is it that i’m doing for you?”

[iwannasuckyourmonstercock]

Never alone

Yandere Kim Hongjoong x Reader

Warnings: Stalking, creepy bf but he really just loves you <3, spanking but no smut, maybe I'll do a smutty part two - "I'm Hongjoong by the way, nice to meet you." the man in front of you told you while you were still unsure if it was really that nice. Probably not as he was at fault that your cute crop top was now dripping wet and the sticky feeling of the liquid wasn't all that nice on your skin.

You knew going to that damned party was a mistake. When your friends first asked you to come to the frat party you had cringed at first. Rightfully so because first of all was it a frat party and they always ended with at least one person in an ambulance and secondly would you have to go out. Now, it wasn't like it was going out that you particularly didn't like. No, usually you loved going to parties, going for a walk or going out for shopping. But lately it had begun to feel uneasy. Whenever you stepped outside you could feel it.

Lingering eyes, faint footsteps. Someone was always following you. You didn't have any proof to be fair but you knew it. Call it seventh sense or whatever but it made you not wanting to go out for anything at all anymore.

Obviously nobody would believe you, call you paranoid. So you didn’t tell anyone. Your friend Yuna had always been way too convincing and she was the very reason why you were now standing in front of an incredible attractive man that had just emptied his whole cup of whatever he had on your top.

After he had apologized a million times he had dragged you up to the bathroom, giving you a towel to dry yourself up. It seemed that he was one of the boys that were hosting that party as he left you shortly just to come back with a fresh shirt for you. "You can change if you want... It must feel terrible against your skin, y/n."

"Ah, thank you... It really does, so thank you." you said, accepting his shirt. After he left the bathroom you cleaned yourself up a little and changed into his shirt. Your white crop top was completely ruined so you didn't bother to try saving it, just putting it in the trash. As soon as you stepped outside you noticed that Hongjoong had waited for you. He looked way too good for someone who was just leaning against the door and playing with his phone. "You didn't have to wait for me."

When he heard your words he looked up, eyes wandering over your body. He looked like he wanted to eat you up right in that moment, but even so he held back, just shifting his gaze to your face.

"Of course I had to. I just ruined your night by being too careless so I have to make it up to you." he grinned, putting his phone in his pocket. "Well, I don't want to ruin your plans but I'll probably leave soon anyway so you don't have to bother with me." "That's a pity. I hoped after getting your attention I had a chance of getting to dance with you." You sighed. He did get your attention. Not in a positive way but still.

At last you decided it wouldn't hurt to dance with him. After all it had been a mistake for which he had apologized and made up for. So you just grabbed his arm, dragging him down to the dance floor. Being outside hadn't felt so good in a long time and dancing with Hongjoong was a lot of fun. The way you two moved to the beat was incredible and you loved how he always found new moves to the songs that came up. Honestly he gave you just what you needed that night. Just a carefree moment.

After some time you two had fetched yourselves drinks in the kitchen, having some small talk. He was an art major. Photography was his focus but he also loved painting he had said. And apparently he even made his own music as he had sheepishly admitted. Sadly you had to leave soon as Yuna had managed to get shitfaced drunk and you weren't too keen on letting her leave alone. When you sat in the taxi with her you cursed yourself, realizing that you two didn't even exchange each others number.

-

The next encounter with Hongjoong was pure coincidence. You had made the mistake of taking the last victory of going out without any troubles as a sign to go out more often. Maybe he lost interest and stopped? Or maybe you really had been just paranoid?

Now you were basically running down the street. This time you had seen him. It was a guy, well built and tall. And he was following you. For good ten minutes already. The party you had went to this time was in a nightclub. You didn't stay too long, only until 3 am. Yuna had offered to walk you home all the way but you declined it, deciding that you could walk the last ten minutes alone. Well now you didn't even dare to walk home, just running in circles as you didn't want to lead him right to your home. Apparently you didn't pay attention to anything but running so a loud gasp left your mouth when you felt ran against a hard chest. "Wow, you seem very eager to see me again." Hongjoong laughed, putting an arm around your waist so that you wouldn't fall. His laughter died down when he saw your tear stained face. "Oh god, did it hurt or why are you crying...?" he asked carefully.

You slowly shook your head, wiping the tears away with your sleeve. “Someone’s following me… please help me…” you begged him lowly, not daring to look behind you.

He didn’t waste any time before he looked over your shoulder and put his arm around your shoulders now. “Ah, there you are. Finally, I’ve already waited for you. Let’s go home.” He said a bit louder with the intention that the man could hear it.

Than he led you to his car, opening the door for you and letting you in like the gentleman he was before going to the drivers seat to get in himself.

“Would you like me to drive you home or do you want to go to my apartment? I mean, I wouldn’t really want to be alone in a situation like this so if you want to-“

“Yes, let’s please go to yours.” You interrupted him in his sentence. Your stalker knew where you lived, you were sure of it. So it was better to go to a place where he couldn’t follow you. And Hongjoong seemed trustworthy.

Hongjoong nodded and started the engine before starting to drive to his apartment.

It turned out that he didn’t live in the frat house from the last party. He actually had an own apartment. Apparently he shared it with a friend as you noticed how there were more shoes and jackets in the entry than a single man could have. But otherwise it was very clean. No dust, no things standing around.

Also it was very modern, you noticed. A lot of paintings and photographs were on the walls and also hand made statues were decorating the place. It made it look very cool but also very unique.

“Ah… i made it myself. I call it the lucky shot as I feel like this is almost the most beautiful shot I took.” Hongjoong said sheepishly as you stopped at one of the photographs.

“Only almost? What was your most beautiful shot than?”

He stared at you for a moment, eyes darkening for a split second, before chuckling.

“You’d like to know, huh? I deleted it by accident. So I can’t show you but it was a very nice scenery and someone I hold dear was in it.”

“I’m sorry to hear that… it must’ve been hard to realize that you deleted something you value so much…”

“Don’t worry, it’s fine. I’m a bit clumsy sometimes… and at the end I’ve got it captured in my memory. Now… if you want you can take a shower. I should have some make up remover somewhere… Seonghwa, my roommate, had a girlfriend and she placed it somewhere so she wouldn’t have to go to bed with make up… they broke up but he never threw it away.” He explained. “Come in, I’ll show you the bathroom.”

You followed him to the bathroom and smiled. Even the bathroom was clean and it amazed you. Usually two guys living together meant that the place would look like shit.

“Thank you, Hongjoong, really… you saved me from that stalker and-“

“Not helping you wouldn’t have been an option. This is something you should be able to expect from anyone… now go on, the clean towels are under the sink and I’ll leave clean clothes in front of the door… I hope You’re fine with wearing something from me, I don’t have any women’s clothes.”

You nodded softly and waddled into the bathroom. After removing all of the make up and taking a nice shower you felt much better. The clothes Hongjoong had prepared for you were almost fitting perfectly and you had to grin a little.

When you came out you followed the amazing smell until you stood in the kitchen.

“I’m making some ramen. I figured we both would need a late night snack after all this.” He smiled. Apparently he had changed into his pajama too and somehow he looked really hot.

A plain black shirt with some sleeping shorts never looked so good but honestly nobody could blame you. After being followed for almost a month now there was no time for you to truly relax. So you hadn’t had any intimacy in more than a month now. This probably did effect you a lot more than you’d like to admit.

“Thats nice of you…” you smiled and sat down, watching him while he cooked the ramen.

“I can’t leave a pretty girl hungry, can I?” He chuckled. “So was your friend fine? After the party? I remember you had to drag her to the car and she didn’t look good last time.”

You blinked at his words. Did you mention what you had been doing and with who? Surely you did.“Yes… she is fine. Tomorrow she’ll feel awful as she did drink quiet a bit but it should be fine.” You told him with a smile.

“I’m glad. She must have a lot of faith in you if she trusts you to drag her home after every party…” he mumbled under his breath and served the food than in two bowl.

You mumbled a quick thank you before taking the bowl. It wasn’t that special but right now the food seemed better than anything else you could have. And you didn’t even notice how you were devouring the food until Hongjoong chuckled next to you.

“You look really cute when you’re hungry.” He grinned and you rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small blush in your cheeks.

“Shut up…"

He just chuckled and returned to his food.

To be honest his presence made you feel incredible comfortable. You couldn't really put your finger on it but even during your first encounter it felt like you knew each other forever already.

Like he knew you inside out.

But you didn't have much time to think about anything as Hongjoong already started another conversation. You two talked for hours and eventually moved to the couch in the living room. A film played on the TV screen but the both of you couldn't really care less about what happened there.

"I swear, I always have the baddest luck ever! I'm not even joking, when I had my last date my alarm clock didn't work, my car broke down and the bus I had to take got into an accident!" you laughed.

Hongjoong laughed really hard and shook his head. "Nah, nothing against me. I actually got there but during the date it turned out she already had a boyfriend. He showed up and made a huge scene. I ended up in the hospital that day."

A small gasp left your lips and you covered your mouth so he couldn't see how you had to hold back your laugh. You both had no luck with dates it seemed. He nudged your shoulder with a small chuckle.

"It's okay... You can laugh about it. I didn't die so it's okay." he assured. "We both have are just not really meant to go on dates, I guess."

"I guess we're not meant to go on dates... We'll find our other half in a different way." you sighed and looked over to him. His eyes were fixated on you and it made you a bit nervous which made you stop in the middle of your sentence.

"Like meeting our soulmate at a frat party..." he breathed out without breaking the eye contact.

"Or getting saved by our soulmate from some creep..." you added and noticed how the man in front of you got a bit closer to you.

Somehow it felt right when he got even closer and slowly cupped your cheek with his hands. His intense gaze was still on you and it made you almost blush. It made you feel like the most wanted person on earth. Like he wanted more than just a bit of fun for the night. Like he really, really loved you.

"Is this okay for you..?" he whispered against your lips.

So you just leaned forward to him to feel his soft lips on yours. Both of you clearly wanted it and right now you wanted nothing but him.

Quickly the shy kissing turned into a heavy make out session and he had pulled you on his lap, his arms around your waist. His smell was all around you and it made you dizzy. Everything felt right and soon your clothes were on the floor while the both of you made love on the couch in Hongjoongs living room.

Everything was perfect.

-

Nothing was perfect.

It had started with a small fight over something so mundane and now you two were full blown fed up with each other. And also way too proud to apologize to the other. Also, the stalking only got worse.

“You’re both way too fucking stubborn. Either you love each other and make up or this could be the last time you talked to him.” Yuna huffed, throwing a pillow into your face.

With a sigh you caught it, shaking your head.

“You… don’t understand. I don’t get why he would even ever be jealous because a friend stayed the night over! He did sleep on the couch and we know each other from our childhood on!” You sighed, shaking your head.

“Maybe he is just insecure or something like that. And you wouldn’t like him having a woman stay with him too.”

It wasn’t that at all. You hid the fact that Hongjoong had looked like he could smash the face of your friend when he came into your apartment in the morning, seeing you both together in the kitchen.

And he almost did, if you hadn’t stopped him.

It was scary and something you’ve never seen him do before. Ever. That was a side of him you didn’t even know existed.

Yuna consoled you a little longer before she had to leave, wanting to catch the last bus.

After she left you wrapped in your blanket, watching some drama and eating some leftovers.

Right now you didn’t want to think about Hongjoong nor your stalker. So you watched the drama, letting it distract you from the fact that you had to talk to Hongjoong sooner or later. Rather later, if possible tho.

And for your stalker.... You would have to go to the police. You swore you saw someone taking pictures of you. And a dark, looming shadow followed you wherever you went to. It was frightening.

Soon, you feel asleep like this, the drama continuing to play as your eyes fell shut.

-

When you woke up you were met with darkness. The TV was out and it was weirdly cold.

Slowly you rubbed your eyes, yawning and stretching a little. When another cold breeze hit your now exposed skin you shivered.

Where did that come from?

Quickly you stood up, wrapping the blanket around your shoulders as you went through your apartment to see where it came from.

You froze when you saw an open window. And not only that, a person was climbing out of it, apparently a little startled as you came as they began to hurry.

Screaming, crying, yelling, throwing things after the person or calling the police - you should do all those things. But instead you couldn’t move.

The stalking hadn’t stopped. And they even got into your apartment now. It was hella creepy and soft sobs left your mouth as you slowly sunk down to the floor, crying out of fear.

What did they want from you? Steal? Hurt you?

Either way, the feeling was horrible and the only thing you could do was call your boyfriend. You couldn’t say a thing but your soft sobs were enough to alert your boyfriend who sounded like he had just woken up.

Only five minutes later was he with you, using the spare key you had gotten him.

It should’ve alerted - after all he lived at least fifteen minutes away.

But in that moment all you could think about was how warm he felt against you and how good he smelt.

God, you had missed Hongjoong. No matter how hard you had tried to hide that.

“It’s alright, baby… it’s alright… I’m there now…” he told you soothingly, rubbing your back and kissing your forehead.

He was all you needed right now.

-

A few weeks passed and things changed. You had moved in with Hongjoong.

Seonghwa, his roommate, was alright with it. You two got along very well and he understood your situation and that you didn’t exactly want to be alone - nor did you want to stay in your old place.

Hopefully the stalking would stop now. With two dudes in the apartment nobody would dare to break in, right?

Being with Hongjoong felt safe and you decided to forget the accident with him and your childhood friend. It had been a one time thing after all, he’d never do it again. Your boyfriend had promised that.

“Babe, are those the last few bags?” Hongjoong asked, hands full with your stuff.

“Yea, that’s all.” You confirmed and he sighed in relief. A huff left your lips.

“What? Tired? Seonghwa carried most of them, you know.” You chuckled, shaking your head.

Your boyfriend grinned and put his arms around you. “Yes, but I carried the heaviest boxes, you know.”

You couldn't even be mad at him - he was cute as he cuddled up to you, although his sweaty skin was a bit sticky. He was calmed down by your presence as much as you were with his. It was endearing, really.

"Shower, babe. You need a shower." You told him, softly pushing him away.

It made him whine and cuddled up to you even more. Obviously he was very much against the idea, shaking his head and pouting cutely. He obviously knew which weapons to use against you. His cute side always got the best of you after all.

"Than... how about a shower together?" you suggested, making him smirk and nod in agreement. Well, what a surprise. - You were shaking.

It had been a dream. Living with Seonghwa and Hongjoong was a dream. Hongjoong spoiled you with all the attention and love, while Seonghwa mostly took care of the duties around the apartment. You learned that Hongjoong covered Seonghwas part of the rent too and in return Seonghwa cooked and cleaned. All in all, a wonderful thing. Especially since you were free from your stalker. At least you thought so.

For a few weeks it had worked. And now? You wanted to do a nice thing and clean for Seonghwa while they were both out.

By now you had your degree - but as of right now there hadn't been any job offer for you. Not even any replies to the ones you applied for. Frustration was slowly creeping into you but your boyfriend was very encouraging, reassuring that you would for sure get a nice job soon. He kept your spirits up and provided everything for you without a single complaint. You had never asked for that - but received it all nonetheless. Hongjoong was a proud and stubborn man. And once he was set on something, there was no use arguing.

Well, the least you could do was help Seonghwa than, right?

And now you were devastated. While dusting Hongjoongs office room you almost tripped over a tile. Obviously you wanted to fix it, you couldn't have your love tripping on it, could you?

But when you noticed that something was underneath the tile you knew that whatever was there, Hongjoong didn't want anyone to find it. What could it be? You knew a lot of your boyfriend. Still, sometimes you felt like he didn't tell you the whole truth.

He worked a lot, but still, he could afford this expensive apartment, provide for both you and himself and he also still had enough money to suggest a vacation. With the job he had in an office... Well, maybe if he had a few more years of experience. But as a newbie it was not really believable. You simply chose to believe him when he explained that his passion for making beats and songs got him a few extra thousands a month.

Despite your gut telling you not to, you opened the box you found under the tile.

A loud gasp left your lips when you saw the pictures of you, along with letters and private objects from your life that got lost way before you even knew Hongjoong.

"What are you doing?!" You heard a harsh voice.

It was Seonghwa. You were lucky. If it had been Hongjoong, you would've been in trouble.

But when you turned around, his face told you everything.

He wasn't surprised. He wasn't shocked. He wasn't completely shaken like you were. He knew. He fucking knew.

Seonghwa knew that his best friend was the stalker that you so desperately tried to get rid of. He knew that he was sick, invading your privacy, taking pictures of you and stealing your panties, jewelry and more.

"N-No... Hwa, please... please don't tell me..."

You wanted to throw up. It made you sick.

"He isn't like that... He really loves you. More than anything in the world." Seonghwa tried to reason with you, but the tears were already running down your cheeks.

He let you as you pushed him away, going to your room and getting a bag so you could quickly pack the most important things up before your boyfriend - your stalker - would return.

Only when you wanted to flee the apartment did he stop you, holding your wrist and pulling you into his chest.

"Shhh.... Shhhh.... Don't worry. He will always take care of you... You love him, don't you? It doesn't even change anything." he told you, seemingly also trying to believe the words Hongjoong had fed him.

When you got violent, he did too. With force he dragged you into Hongjoongs room, cuffing you up.

"Let me go! Fucking psychos!" you accused him, trashing around and trying to kick him with your feet.

"Hongjoong will understand..." he mumbled, ignoring you and leaving you alone. You could only wait for your doom.

-

"You have been such a good girl... Why now?" he asked, disappointment lacing his voice. A loud smack resonated in the room as Hongjoong hit your bottom for the tenth time.

Tears were running down your cheeks and you sobbed. It hurt, but your body was only turned on, reminded by the many nights where Hongjoong had trained you to love this pain.

"Now you must act up... Bad." Smack. "Girl." Smack. "I gave you everything and you act like this just because of something like this? Just let it go. I only wanted to take care of you, watch out for you. Only I am allowed to hurt you."

Stubbornly you shook your head. "N-No... You fucking stalked me, you are crazy, leave me alone!" you fought him, making him chuckle darkly.

"Remember darling, you are never alone."

[tongue-like-a-razor]

Faking It | Part VI

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x F!Reader

AHHHH THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL THE LOVE YOU GUYS!! This chapter took a lot out of me for some reason, but I'm pretty content with where we're at. Hope you like it!

PS. You will like it.

PPS. I promise you, you will like it XD

Summary: Fake dating your friend, Bradley Bradshaw - what could possibly go wrong? Your sister is getting married and you need a date. You enlist Bradley's help and the rest is history.

CW: swearing, minor angst, FLUFFITY FLUFF

Start from the beginning: Part I

“Chicken is good,” Bradley says to his dinner plate.

Across the table, your aunt makes an enthusiastic sound in agreement and continues chewing.

“Delicious,” you respond curtly.

Bradley looks over at you, so you turn your head to meet his gaze. “Yours is better, darling,” he says, feigning a cordial tone, but you can see past the charade. He’s just as angry with you as you are with him.

“Her mushroom stuffed chicken is divine,” your mother chimes in.

“It’s her specialty,” Bradley says, quoting a line from the notes you’d given him to prepare for the weekend because, obviously, he’s never had your mushroom stuffed chicken. He presses his lips together although the smile he aims at you is acerbic.

You try your best not to roll your eyes at him.

“Does Bradley cook?” your aunt asks, watching the two of you with interest.

You glance at her in alarm, unsure how to respond since you don’t know the answer. You could make something up; nobody would know any better, but somehow that seems more dishonest than pretending he’s your boyfriend.

“I do, actually,” Bradley intervenes. You look at him gratefully and he returns your gaze with a slight nod. “Y/N is particularly fond of my shepherd’s pie.”

Your mother cringes at Bradley. “Y/N hates ground meat. She won’t even eat burgers.”

Bradley stares at your mother, speechless for a moment, while you try to keep your composure despite the rapidly encroaching panic.

“It’s uh… vegetarian,” he says quickly.

“Vegetarian shepherd’s pie?” your aunt asks. “Never heard of such a thing.”

“Mm-hm.” You start to nod vigorously. “It’s so good.”

“What do you make it with?” your mother asks and everybody at the table seems farcically fascinated with the concept of vegetarian shepherd’s pie.

You feel like the air is being sucked from your lungs as you watch Bradley purse his lips while he stalls. “Bradley, I totally forgot to bring my shawl from the chalet and I’m cold,” you say.

Bradley raises his eyebrows at you and you know exactly what he’s thinking: that it’s about a million degrees in this place. “Here.” He starts shrugging off his suit jacket and you nearly groan because he must know that you’re not actually cold.

You give him a pointed look as he starts to drape the jacket over your shoulders. “I’d really prefer my shawl,” you say, trying to keep the severity out of your tone.

“Oh, don’t make him go all the way back to the rooms, Y/N,” your aunt says sympathetically. Then, she adds, “He still has to tell us about this shepherd’s pie. I wouldn’t mind grabbing the recipe.” She beams at him.

“It’s uh,” Bradley says, “exactly like the one with meat. Except, you know, without it.” Bradley responds uneasily, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand.

“There’s got to be more to it.” Your mother narrows her eyes. “Is it a secret?”

“What? No, of course not!” Bradley chuckles. Then, he says, “Oh! I love this song!” He jumps up from his chair. “Come on, Y/N. Let’s dance!”

You stare at him in horror, trying to determine exactly what song is playing over the hum of dinner conversation. The dance floor is empty because everyone is still eating. “I’m actually not a huge fan of” –

But Bradley doesn’t let you finish the sentence because he grabs your hand and pulls you out of your seat so quickly that his jacket flies off your shoulders.

“Don’t you worry,” your grandmother says, leaning down to pick up the jacket and hanging it over the back of your chair. “Go have fun, you two.”

You let out a sigh as Bradley drags you out into the middle of the dance floor, already grooving to the music as he walks. Now that you’re closer to the speakers, you recognize the song that apparently Bradley loves.

He tugs on your hand, forcing you to turn toward him, and you catch his eyes sweeping over your face before meeting your gaze. He lifts your hand, drawing you closer while taking you by the waist. He’s shimmying his shoulders to the beat, his lips curling into a smirk when you start to move your hips reluctantly.

When the chorus kicks in, Bradley starts to sing along. “Ooh baby, I love your way.” His voice is a little raspy and a lot sexy. You feel the now familiar turbulence wreak havoc on your organs, but Bradley continues his serenade, completely unaware of just exactly what it’s doing to you.

You feel your scowl dissolve as Bradley tries to engage you in the dancing by moving your arms around. You start to laugh when he twists you this way and that as he sings at the top of his lungs. Before long, you forget exactly why you’ve been upset with him, and your irritation seems hardly relevant at all, especially considering the lengths to which he’s going in order to keep up appearances.

Bradley extends his arm out and spins you before bringing you flush against his body. Your hips align with his and the two of you sway together from side to side, his hand clutching yours to his chest as he sings, “I wanna tell you I love your way, everyday. I wanna be with you night and day.”

When the next song comes on, other guests begin to step out onto the dance floor. “Might be safer to just stay out here,” he says, shrugging.

You nod. “Chicken wasn’t very good anyway,” you say, thinking of your half-finished dinnerplate.

He laughs. “Here’s hoping the cake will be chocolate,” he says, already dancing to the next song.

You chuckle, starting to move more freely to the upbeat music.

Bradley smiles at you appreciatively, grabbing your hand to swing you to the side while you grin, admiring his dancing skills. The DJ is playing all the old classics and you are both thoroughly enjoying the familiar melodies.

Several songs in, when the two of you are moderately out of breath, you feel a hand on your shoulder. You turn to see your sister’s smiling face. She leans in to whisper in your ear, “You guys look super cute together!”

The words send a bittersweet ripple through you because, on the one hand, it means your ruse has been a success but, on the other, it’s all a farce. Your feelings toward Bradley might be genuine, but Bradley is here as your friend. And he’s faking the rest of it. Nevertheless, you shoot your sister a wide grin, grateful for her support.

A few minutes later, Aly shows up to claim her dance with Bradley. You step aside and watch on as Bradley takes the girl’s hands and starts twirling her around with a giant smile on his face. He seems pleased that she’s remembered to find him. You laugh when he picks her up and swings her, feet first, on either side of his body. Aly is giggling merrily and, as he sets her back down, Bradley glances up at you briefly, giving you a lopsided grin and a wink.

The night seems to fly by as you and Bradley spend the majority of it on the dance floor. When your sister goes to do the bouquet toss, your mother pushes you into the throng of single women gathering eagerly behind the bride. You eye your mother crossly but, when you catch the amused smirk on Bradley’s face, you suddenly want to catch the damn bouquet.

The battle for the flying flowers is unexpectedly aggressive. There is a lot more elbowing than you’d expect, as well as a fair amount of shoving, kicking, and toe stomping. But, for some reason, you are determined to win. You end up catching the bouquet despite the numerous hands obstructing your view, and you turn back to your table and do a little victory dance as you walk back toward Bradley. He laughs at you, shaking his head.

“You’re such a goof,” he mutters in a low voice as you approach him, but the expression he wears is something reminiscent of fondness.

You drop your eyes because his gaze makes you blush. “Your turn,” you say in a sing-song voice, and he passes a hand over your stomach as he proceeds to join the rest of the bachelors awaiting the toss of the garter.

Your aunt cozies up to you as you watch Bradley approach the group of men on the floor. “I like him,” she says.

You turn to her in surprise.

“Don’t look so shocked,” she says. “I think he’s perfect for you.”

“More perfect than Steven?” you ask pointedly.

“Eh,” your aunt shrugs. “I never cared for Steven.”

“But he’s a doctor!” you exclaim in mock outrage, trying to emulate your mother’s tone when she’d learned of your decision to break up.

Your aunt chuckles. “Steven is a pompous ass.”

“Can you tell my mother that?”

Your aunt turns to face you. “I’ve never seen you look at Steven the way you look at Bradley.”

You bite your lip, wondering if she might also have noticed the way Bradley looks at you when you aren’t paying attention. But you can’t ask her that, so you turn back to observe the garter toss in silence.

You see that Steven has stepped into the crowd where he and Bradley promptly exchange menacing glares with one another. Bradley then turns his head to glance back at you over his shoulder. You wave at him just as the groom throws the garter and, by the time Bradley looks back, Steven jumps up to grab it.

You hold your breath as Steven dangles the garter in front of Bradley’s face and, for a moment, Bradley looks like he might punch him for being an idiot. But then Bradley lets out a long breath and turns to walk back toward you with a scowl.

“What does it mean?” he asks as he approaches you.

“Well,” you say. “Obviously it means that Steven and I are meant to be and that we’ll be getting married and having a bunch of babies.”

Bradley watches you impassively. “You’re funny,” he says. You smile at him mildly and he steps closer, wrapping his arm around you. “He’ll have to get past me first,” he mutters, and his words inspire yet another flutter in your gut that leaves you feeling buzzed.

But the sensation is interrupted by Steven’s arrogant drawl. “Shall we?” he says, and you turn to see him standing right behind you. “They’re waiting for us.”

You narrow your eyes at him as Bradley’s grip tightens on your hip. “Who’s waiting for us?”

“It’s customary for the woman who catches the bouquet and the man who catches the garter to dance,” your aunt says with a grimace.

You blink at her defeatedly and then glance up worriedly at Bradley. He lifts an eyebrow and squints his eyes, his hold loosening around your waist. “It’s just a dance,” he says, seeing the discomfort on your face. “Don’t let him get to you.”

You nod, releasing a wavering sigh, and turn toward Steven. “Let’s get this over with,” you say.

Steven grins at you. “That’s the spirit,” he says, taking your hand to lead you out onto the now empty dance floor. He glances over his shoulder as the two of you make your way to the center, a faint smirk materializing on his face when his eyes lock on Bradley.

Steven places his hand on your side and pulls you closer when the song starts. As the two of you slowly rotate, you can see Bradley watching you from the sidelines, a hard expression coloring his features.

Steven brings you into an embrace. “Feels like old times,” he says.

“Not really,” you respond coldly, trying to regain some space between your bodies.

“Don’t tell me you’re serious about this aviator,” he says.

You glance up at him indignantly. “Of course, I’m serious about him. I wouldn’t have brought him to my sister’s wedding if I weren’t.”

He chuckles. “You forget that I know you very well,” he says.

You swallow, wondering what he’s getting at.

Steven eyes you with a devious smirk. “He’s not your boyfriend,” he says.

“Excuse me?” you say, offended and anxious in equal measure.

He chuckles. “Sure, maybe he’s a friend,” he says, shrugging. “But that dude is not dating you.”

“What are you talking about?” You want to ask how he could tell, but you don’t want to give anything away.

“The closest you have gotten to each other is a quick hug here and there. You look like you’re afraid to touch him,” he says. “So, the question is, why did you feel the need to bring him? You didn’t know I’d be here, so it wasn’t to make me jealous.”

“You’ve got it wrong,” you scoff.

He raises his eyebrows. “It’s your mom, isn’t it? She’s pushing you to start dating again. She’s always been a big fan of mine.”

You roll your eyes. “Stop talking, Steven.”

Steven brings his face closer to yours. “Making me jealous is just an added benefit, isn’t it? Well, I’m here to tell you that it worked. Even if you aren’t actually dating the guy.”

“I couldn’t care less how you feel about my relationship,” you respond, gritting your teeth.

Steven chuckles. “‘Relationship’,” he repeats, using his right hand to make air quotes.

You’re seething so much that your head starts to hurt and, just as you’re about to walk away from him, you feel a soft touch along your shoulder blade. Bradley steps around you, giving Steven an icy look. “I can take over from here, Steven,” he says casually, as if interrupting a traditional slow dance in front of an audience is regularly scheduled programming.

Steven stares at him in astonishment, completely lost for words. Bradley doesn’t wait for him to respond; he takes your hand out of Steven’s and leads you away.

You raise your eyebrows as Steven stands alone in the middle of the floor, looking around awkwardly. Meanwhile, you feel Bradley’s hand slide up your waist and pull you in, swaying you gently to the music. You gulp as Steven glares at you before turning on his heel and making his way toward your table, where your aunt and mother are standing and watching the action unfold.

“Bradley,” you say quietly.

“Hm?”

You glance up at him anxiously. “He knows,” you say. “Steven knows.”

“Knows what?” he asks.

You bite your lip. “That you’re not really my boyfriend. That all of this is fake.”

Bradley makes a skeptical face. “Did you tell him?”

“Of course not! He guessed.”

Bradley chuckles. “How?”

You shrug. “Apparently, we’re not affectionate enough.”

Bradley narrows his eyes, one corner of his mouth curling upward slightly. “What are you proposing?”

“I’m not proposing anything! I’m saying, the jig is up and we’re fucked,” you whisper feverishly. “Oh god, he’s talking to my mother. He’s going to tell her!”

Bradley lets out a slow sigh and pulls you a tad closer. “Hey,” he says. “There’s nothing to tell. Remember what I said? Don’t let him get to you.”

You glance up into Bradley’s eyes and, for a single moment, the background fades into nonexistence and your troubles with Steven seem a million miles away. But then, you shift back to reality, suddenly aware of the entire room watching you dance with your supposed boyfriend whom you can’t even kiss him.

As if on cue, Bradley says in a low voice, “You know, there is a way we can be more convincing as a couple.”

You stare at him for a moment while he watches you carefully, probably analyzing your reaction. His gaze drops down to your lips and you instinctively crane your neck before you can stop yourself. Bradley’s eyebrows twitch as a mystified expression passes fleetingly over his features. You note the bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallows uneasily; the rapid rise and fall of his chest as his face nears yours.

“What do you think?” he mutters, so close now that the tip of his nose brushes against the tip of yours.

There’s so much commotion in your chest, you feel like your ribs might rupture trying to keep it contained. “Uh,” you breathe, not confident you can articulate a more complex sound. You hope that his question is rhetorical in nature and that he’s not actually expecting a response.

Bradley steps about a millimeter closer, the hand he kept on your hip now sliding slowly up your side. You can feel his fingers clasp around your bent elbow, lingering there for a moment before trailing up your arm, its trace along your bare skin electric.

You let your lips part when you feel the heat of his breath as it mixes with yours, your slow dance coming to a near standstill as the two of you waver in uncertainty. You know that kissing Bradley Bradshaw will be the ultimate annihilation of whatever chance you might have had at restoring a platonic friendship with him once the weekend is over. Perhaps not for Bradley, but certainly for you. You also know that kissing Bradley Bradshaw is the best method of proving the authenticity of your relationship to your mother and Steven.

But before you can continue to contemplate the risk-reward ratio of kissing him, you feel Bradley’s bottom lip skim over your top one, and you could swear that your body might shatter upon impact. If Bradley, by some chance, determines to kiss you kiss you, you might not survive it. But despite the ever-present possibility that you may die if you were to actually lock lips with Bradley Bradshaw, you are now convinced, without a shadow of a doubt, that you are willing – nay, aching – to hazard it.

And just as you begin to wonder whether Bradley is on the same page, his mouth closes around yours. For a moment, neither of you breathes, giving you ample opportunity to acknowledge the fact that you aren’t dead but, on the contrary, extremely alive. You are submerged in sensation, baffled by how many things in your body can feel.

And then Bradley breathes out forcefully, taking a step into you, his arm curving around your back to keep you steady as he presses his body against yours. His lips begin to move, inviting yours into a desperate, delirious dance.

You let your hand travel up his chest and behind his neck, your fingers grazing his skin as he leans closer. Meanwhile, his hand is suddenly in your hair, contending with the mass of bobby pins as he attempts to rake his fingers right through. Instead, he resolves to grip a chunk of it by your ear, interrupting the kiss for a moment to let out a low chuckle against your mouth. At that, you slide your hand to the back of his head, pushing him toward you again.

Bradley resumes kissing you eagerly, both his hands now arriving on either side of your face, his thumbs brushing tenderly over your cheeks.

Somewhere beyond, one song ends and another begins. There is movement on the outside, some shuffling, and you finally open your eyes just as your glorious kiss comes to a conclusion.

Bradley rests his forehead on yours, breathing heavily into the small space between your faces while neither of you dare to say a word.

There are others on the dance floor now. Dancing, laughing, not paying the two of you the slightest bit of attention. And why would they? You’ve just done what any normal couple would do. Nobody knows how the moment transported you, how it has altered you.

Then, Bradley speaks. “Do you think they’ll miss us?”

“What?” you breathe, your foreheads still together as you watch his mouth move.

He bites into his lip. “If we leave now,” he says. “Will they notice we’re gone?”

Your heart starts to hammer once again. “What about the cake?” you ask.

“The cake?” he says, and you feel the skin of his forehead wrinkle as he furrows his brows.

“What if it’s chocolate?” you ask.

Bradley’s mouth curls into an amused smile. “Could be diamond for all I care.”

“That would be tough on the teeth.” You make a grimace to lighten the mood but, on the inside, you’re crumbling. Bradley wants to leave. He wants to leave so he isn’t forced to kiss you again.

Bradley lets out a steady sigh and takes a step toward you, the movement bringing your bodies together. You close your eyes because you’re far too close to see anything meaningful anymore anyway. “I could give a fuck about the cake, Y/N,” he says hoarsely.

Read Part VII

Tag List:

I will try my best to tag the rest of this list in the comments! Might take a while bc I can only tag 5 at a time, so I might finish tagging in the morning. If I don't get to you, I'm sorry!

XOXO

@lonelywitchv2

@fanboyluvr

@marrianena

@anotherr-fine-mess

@mrs-obrien

@living-in-my-imagination88

@kindablackenedsuperhero

@whitewolfsbitch

@beebslebobs

@gretagerwigsmuse

@mak-32

@strangunddurm

@desert-fern

@maverick-wingman

@jamielovesbucky

@n3ssm0nique

@misshoneypaper

@roosterscockpit

@jakexfmc

@wintercap89

@gracielou0518

@averyhotchner

@bxwitched

@yeetzel

@xoxabs88xox

@cynisarmy

@kwanimations

@onlygetaway

@hope-love-equality2

@shanimallina87

@ijustwantedplums

@oliviah-25

@gayforsteve

@gingerbreadandpaper

@vemonbby

@sebastianstansimp

@alexxavicry

@spn-marvel-nerd

@army24--7

@emmy626

@criminalyetminimal

@candid-confetti

@avoirlecoupdefoudre

@thefandomimagines

@moony-artemis

@my-secret-life-1

@roostereads

@currentlybradshaw

@whisperofsong

[mrshesh]

thinking about "the distraught father adopting an orphan daughter" trope but with price and ghost :( like imagine, the reader is a younger girl in the task force, and she has kind of become like a daughter to them but they've never really disclosed it, and one day she just mutters "i love you, dad" to them (individually) :(( how do you think they'd react?

"i love you, dad." - simon "ghost" riley x reader

overview: calling simon "ghost" riley dad for the first time

pairing: simon "ghost" riley x gender neutral reader, platonic

genre: fluff, angst

a/n: hi anon! i looooove this request :( i've actually been thinking of this exact scenario for sooo long! however, i couldn't really think of anything for price. so if someone can help me out by sending some ideas & headcanons to me privately, i will make a price version asap! and, as much as i love the father-daughter trope, i decided to keep this gender neutral, so everyone can feel included. i hope you love it.

TW! mentions of abuse and torture. proceed with caution.

Simon’s father was the devil personified. His dad is the epitome of evil to him, even more so than his captor, Roba. He cringes when he sees a dad and son being affectionate with each other in public - it pains him to think about what could’ve been, how he could’ve turned out. He knows most of his trauma stems from the abuse his father put him through, which has forever shattered the image of fatherhood in his mind. 

That is until you came along. 

Simon immediately felt drawn to you when you joined the Task Force. Being the youngest member had difficulties, yet you took it like a champ and kept toiling while still being so bright, colorful, and full of life. He admired that about you. 

He found himself worrying for you more than he liked. If you were reckless on a mission, he’d pull you aside and yell at you, scolding you for pulling such stupid stunts at the risk of your being. But after every talking-to, he’d give you a gentle pat on the head with shaky hands. “You need to be more careful, mate.” He’d mutter, feeling a pit in his stomach. Why does he care so much? And why does he feel the need to protect you? 

He would keep an eye on you at all times. He’d ensure nobody got too touchy with you and that everybody on base treats you with the respect you deserve. If he saw you getting mistreated, he would use his authority to punish the person hurting you. He would then turn to you, his eyes softening as he stares at you through his balaclava. “You tell me if anyone’s hurting you, alright?” 

The day Simon realizes he loves you like his own child is the day you open up about your past to him. At this point, you’ve known each other for a few years. 

He has always known that he has a special love for you, but he never came to terms with it until this day. 

When you tell him about all your painful experiences in life, he can feel his heart tear open and get shredded into millions of pieces. Regardless of what you’ve been through, his soul aches for you. That day was the first time Simon ever hugged you, and he vouched to care and be there for you as long as he was breathing. 

Today, you’ve had a difficult time falling asleep. Tossing and turning in bed can only get you so far, and the thought of drinking warm milk at this time makes you physically ill. You’re in the comfort of your room, but you don’t feel the amenity. You need someone to talk to. 

You know that Simon is usually up during this time - he who deserves sleep the most gets it the least. Insomnia’s a bitch. 

You decide to send him a text. 

You: “You up?” Read, 3:38 AM.  Simon: “Yeah. Why are you awake?” Read, 3:38 AM.  You: “Can’t sleep. Your sleeping habits have rubbed off on me.” Read, 3:39 AM.  Simon: “Welcome to my world.” Read, 3:39 AM.  Simon: “Is everything okay, though?” Read, 3:39 AM. You: “Yep. Just need someone to talk to, that’s all.” Read, 3:39 AM. Simon: “So you decide to text me?” Read, 3:40 AM. You: “I would’ve texted Johnny, but he fell asleep at midnight.” Read, 3:40 AM. Simon: “What’s so wrong with me?” Read, 3:40 AM. You: “You’re a grumpy, old man.” Read, 3:41 AM.  Simon: “Thanks, mate. 🐶” Read, 3:41 AM. You: “You’re welcome.” Read, 3:41 AM.  You: “Don’t worry, though. I like that about you.” Read, 3:42 AM.  Simon: “Not enough to be your first texting option.” Read, 3:42 AM.  You: “Don’t hyper-fixate on that, I’m begging.” Read, 3:42 AM.  Simon: “It’s funny.” Read, 3:42 AM. You: “It’s not. 🙄 It’s so boring I’m starting to feel sleepy, actually.” Read, 3:43 AM. Simon: “That’s good. Go to sleep, mate.” Read, 3:43 AM. You: “Yeah, might as well. You should sleep, too.” Read, 3:43 AM.  Simon: “I’ll try.” Read, 3:43 AM.  Simon: “Goodnight.” Read, 3:44 AM. You: “Night. I love you, Dad. ❤️” Read, 3:44 AM.  You: “Hold on, before you go! I have a question.” Read, 3:44 AM. You: “Hello?” Delivered, 3:50 AM.  You: “Simon?” Delivered, 3:55 AM.  You: “Did you fall asleep?” Delivered, 4:01 AM.

You sit in your bed anxiously, not knowing whether you fucked up. You know Simon had a rough past with this father, but you didn’t even think about that when you sent that text. You feel an instant regret wash over you, rereading your messages hundreds of times, hoping Simon will open them. 

Your spiral of uneasiness is interrupted by a hurried knock on the door of your room. You can hear breathing, almost panting, through the door - you immediately know it’s Simon. 

You walk to the door, hesitantly opening it, only to be met by Simon’s bare, tear-stained face, and the whites of his eyes have turned a bright red. You stare at him in shock, only stepping aside to let him in your room. 

You close the door behind you after he enters your accommodation, and you turn to look at him right away. Your eyes meet instantly, and you feel a cloud of shame pour down on you, coating you in an aura of grief. “I’m sorry.” You instantly whisper, and your own eyes sting. “I shouldn’t have… said that.” 

He doesn’t respond, only looking at you as if you’re the only matter in the universe. Everything else has become nonexistent - a vacuum. 

“No.” He sniffles, stepping closer toward you. He had a panic attack right after you called him dad - and you know it. “No.” He repeats, his tears spilling out of his eyes. “Don’t be sorry.” He whispers. He reaches out to you hesitantly, his trembling hands gently gripping your shoulders. He holds them there for a few seconds, getting used to the feeling. 

Before you know it, he pulls you into him, burying his face in the crook of your neck and weeping quietly into you. It’s the first time you’ve seen him cry. Ever. 

He’s stiff as he embraces you, his shaking body telling you everything you need to know. Your heart breaks for him, resulting in you biting back your tears - you’ve got to be strong for him. But you can’t.

You let your sobs fill the air, your arms wrapping around him to hold him close to you. 

You stay in each other’s embrace, pouring out your emotions for one another. You don’t even dare to speak until Simon has calmed down slightly, his breathing getting slower and softer. 

“I love you, Dad.”

“I love you, too, kid. More than you know.”

[ttyls]

im so upset right now i cant even speak 😣😭his nervous hands :(( he's so scared and lonely :((((

gif frm @avengerscompound

noooooo devastated nervous anxious stevieeee 😥😢 when i think about the man out of time deleted scene, i could cry for a million years 😭 we have to comfort him!!!! we have to wrap him in love, tenderness, and give him something to live for!!!! 😖

Anew

pairing: Steve Rogers x reader

word count: 394

warnings: none, but also fresh-out-of-the-ice sad Steve :-(

He looks so sad, almost like you that time you actually cried on this train. Nobody paid attention to you of course, but you still inwardly cringe when the memory finds you. He's rubbing his hands together like he’s trying to soothe himself.

This man seems like he’s strong enough to hold back until he goes home, but you feel so bad for him, bad enough to hand him a metaphorical tissue.

“Umm… excuse me, are you lost?”

He turns his head towards you, and his eyes widen ever so slightly when he figures out you’re addressing him. You ask again, “Are you lost? Do you need any help?”

His lips part a little to speak, but then he stops. He looks like he doesn’t even know where to begin answering your questions. Something about him makes you want to help, so you continue talking. “If you don’t know where to go or when you need to get off the train, I could help you.”

He nods in acknowledgment of your offer. “I… uh, thank you. My stop is coming up soon,” his voice trails off. He looks down at his lap where his hands are still clasped together. “I’m-... I’m new here,” he admits. His every word is crammed with nervousness and hesitation. His eyes move back up to yours and you hope your facial expression is properly conveying the empathy you feel for him. Maybe he’s from somewhere far away with fewer people and a different pace of life.

“This city does move very fast, but you’ll find your footing soon,” you respond. Trying your best to reassure him, you add, “If you’ve made it this far, there’s definitely something here for you.”

His eyes are now the color of gratitude and his mouth lifts into a small smile. “Thank you. I appreciate your words.” Lowering his voice, he continues, “I’ve had a hard time… adjusting, and I just-... I really needed to hear that.”

Thankfulness is written all over his face, and knowing you told him the right thing makes your heart sing. Any more of this and it might be the second time you cry on this train.

He brings his hand out for a handshake and introduces himself as Steve. You shake while giving him your name, and he says, “I’m glad to meet you.” You think so, too.

[littlewonders7]

Okay here’s my first attempt on a y/n post I have no plan we just winging it!!! Okay so warning this is most definitely gonna have some cringe but I’ll try to make less cringe as possible

So contexts This is a hazbin hotel x pregnant reader where reader arrives around when sir pentious does maybe just before him, they are around 5-6 months in for plot!

Y/n didn’t know whether or not going to the hazbin hotel was a good idea or not as it did stated it was a place for rehabilitation and carrying a 5-6month hell born in your belly might not be in your favor but you were determined to give this hotel a chance for your unborn child!

When arriving to the hotel, you and knock on the door with hesitation your brain still nervous with being rejected, however before you could second guess your decision the door open revealing a tall woman with blonde hair, porcelain skin and two rosey dots on each sides of her cheek

When Charlie heard the knocking coming from the door she couldn’t contain her excitement hoping it’s a new resistant who’s looking to rehabilitate!

However when she open the door excitedly she was slightly taken aback from y/n and her obviously swollen belly-NOT that there’s anything wrong with that however she just didn’t expect it!

Shaking off the stun expression off her face and joyfully greeted y/n regardless

Y/n awkwardly greeted Charlie back, taken aback by the Charlie joyful eagerness, feeling a bit less anxious than before

Charlie was curious upon what brought y/n to come to her hotel as so far she been having a hard time trying to get anybody to join during this past week after announcing the once formally named ‘happy hotel’ so nobody could blame her curiosity

Before she could properly ask y/n reasoning another voice came up that behind them, as they turn around there stood vaggie having just arrived

Charlie quickly introduce vaggie to y/n (though not before remembering she didn’t ask y/n for her name yet)

Y/n then explain their request on wanting to try to rehabilitate and they saw through the tv that’s what the hotel is looking for

Vaggie though happy that Charlie’s ideas had reach a resident, she is wondering on how y/n is planning on rehabilitation if she’s carrying a hellborn as hellborns cannot go to heaven and y/n going through rehab could potentially mean they might leave the child behind

Now hearing vaggie’s concern Charlie is now wondering on y/n thoughts

Y/n understanding their concerns explain that they don’t mind not going to heaven as they feel bad for leaving their little one behind, however they want to go through with the program in order to become a better healthier parent for their child and hopes that they could change their behavior for them

Upon hearing y/ns reasoning Charlie becomes even more determined to help their newest member as she thinks about her own parents and her relationship with them and seeing how y/n wanting to be a better version of themselves for said child really touches her

Vaggie also wishes to help y/n and feels a kind of respect for y/n love for their unborn child and knows how she herself would’ve try to change for the better if it ever came to Charlie

Afterwards both Charlie and vaggie help y/n introduce themselves with the other members

Husk was neutral about it and didnt have much a opinion except saying that he didn’t care as long he doesn’t find y/n drinking or near his bar( grumpy softie meaning y/n to not hurt themselves or their child)

Angel dust did make a comment upon y/ns pregnancy like who a pretty thing like them banged or something like that, however vaggie and Charlie both scold him for his lewd commentary as y/ns situation was not all sunshine and rainbows if there’s no father in the picture, afterwards angel dust did apologize and get kind of bad for the jokes though y/n reassured him that it’s okay and they heard worse and appreciated the apology

Next was nifty, oh boi, nifty is disappointed the new member is not a ‘bad boy’ however still eagerly greets y/n and starts spewing questions after until she had been told to calm down

Alastor was last and to say the least he was not as scary as y/n thought he would be, especially with all the rumors and horrid tales told about him, but could mostly because Alastor is gentleman who also a mamas boy so I doubt he would even try to go against a pregnant individual

I say sir penstious comes after y/n visit but I say when he does join he be gentle and sweet as y/n care for their unborn child reminds him for his care for his egg bois though except the boss/minons dynamic

I say overtime as the story progresses y/n would kind of bond with the crew in a more parent/guardion type of way where y/n would try to comfort Charlie whenever she start questioning her decisions by telling her that y/n has Charlie’s support and thinks what she’s doing is great, probably help organize and plan lessons with her

For vaggie maybe help her to learn to love herself and be less quick on judgement and to hear someone out supporting her and Charlie moments

For husk maybe help him clean and organize the bar and maybe help take care of his well being, probably the guardian in y/n wants worries for husk acohol tendencies even though husk cannot die from it and he still appreciates the gesture

Y/n would probably watch and help nifty clean the hotel and pay attention to her puppet theatrics (though might be concern about that one comment nifty made about killing mother birds in front of children, but nifty reassures y/n that she would bite and stab anyone offending them)

Angel dust would probably appreciate receiving affection and nature love from y/n telling him that they’re there for him when he needs it and take care of any injures whenever angel has a tough night with Val

Sir pentious would love y/n as they pay attention to his ideas and inventions and notice how hard he and the egg bois work. I think he would very happy and emotional somebody took him seriously and paid attention to him. He even make inventions to protect y/n as the months go by

Now we all now Alastor is a mamas boy so no doubt he would start to have protection around y/n whenever they go out, making excuses to make sure y/n stays safe and the more they stay at the hotel the protective Alastor the the rest would become as y/n would be due around the next extermination happens

Okay so after all I would give a mention to Lucifer as i feel they’re interaction would be sweet as Lucifer is struggling to be a better father to Charlie having another individual that can relate to parenting is nice, I feel while y/n stay at the hotel they learn and give advices to Lucifer on how to start trying to build that connection again and Lucifer would really appreciate it

Okay so I really tried to make this better like I have the idea in my head I just really suck at writing and typing in down and my brain and phone is ready to exploded and part of me really second guess even trying to attempt this but I know not everything is gonna be perfect and I like that I tried even when I had no clue what I was doing lol 😂

So sorry for the cringe and have a lovely day y’all

[slasherx]

Hey 👋🏽

Can you do the Sinclair twins with a female s/o who was like in a relationship before they killed their father and she left town but like years later they found her again and like kidnaped her so they can be together again

Ooo Diablo you always come up with the most scrumptious ideas *rubs hands together evilly*

Content: Bo SInclair x fem!Reader, Vincent SInclair x fem!Reader (separate)

Warnings: Kidnapping, Bo slaps you across the face

Notes: My first time writing Bo and second time writing Vincent...I hope I did okay!

• ───────────────── •

❥Bo Sinclair

Bo found you in a grocery store in the next town over. When had you come back to Louisiana? He remembers the day you broke up with him - you were going out of state to college and didn't want to do long distance with him.

So much has changed since then. He's changed so much since then. He waited for you to check out, then abandoned any cart or food he hand in his hands to follow you out to your car. Luckily you parked in the back so nobody saw him knock you out and drag you to his car, which also coincidentally wasn't far from yours.

Stuffing you in the back seat, he used the seatbelts to tie your hands up and began driving back home. When he arrived there, he called for Vincent to help him bring you in. Vincent was surprised to find you instead of groceries in the backseat. He signed to Bo, "What is this?"

"Well it damn sure ain't groceries, Vince. Now help me get her up to my room."

Vincent cringed at that but decided to help him anyway. He held you by your ankles and Bo held you by your wrists as they brought you upstairs, where Bo promptly tied you to the bed. He shooed Vincent out of his room before sitting next to you.

You looked so peaceful, and in his deranged mind he thought you knew he was with you, and thats why you seemed so peaceful. Smiling, Bo leaned down and kissed your forehead. "Welcome back home, darlin."

You woke up shortly after, in a familiar room, but not one you thought you'd see ever again. It didn't help that Bo was sitting right next to you. "Bo...? What...?"

You tried to move but the restraints wouldn't allow you. The situation settled into your brain - you were in Bo's room, and you couldn't move. The last thing you remember is being at the grocery store, loading your groceries into your car. You had been kidnapped, and Bo was your captor.

"Bo, let me go." You looked at him.

"Sorry sweetheart. I can't really do that."

"Bo let me go now!" You thrashed against your restraints.

"Its no use darlin. I let you go before but, after some careful consideration I realized I never wanna let you go again. So, now you're back here, with me and Vinny and Lester! Ain't that great?" Bo got close to you, a smile spread on his face.

You spat in his face. Bo then promptly slapped you across the face out of reflex. "Now darlin I'm sorry for slappin you, but you need to re-learn some manners it seems. College ruined you, but it's okay. I'm a patient man, we can figure this out."

"What are you talking about?" You looked up at him, tears in your eyes.

"I'm talking about how you're mine forever. Your place is here, in Ambrose, beside me. I want no other woman, Y/n." Bo caressed your face.

"You're fucking crazy."

"For you." Bo smiled again.

• ───────────────── •

❥Vincent Sinclair

Bo had called for him from the upstairs level, something he rarely does unless there's people. Begrudgingly he left his sketchbook on the table and came upstairs.

"I got somethin for you." Bo grinned. "I think you'll really like it."

His brother led him out to his truck, and when he opened the back seat, he saw a person laying there. But not just any person, it was you. You who he had lost when your family decided to move out of Ambrose years ago.

He never forgot you. In fact, he hadn't been with anyone else since you had left. He'd always had a feeling you would come back. But, he felt bad that this was how you'd been brought back to him. He had hoped the attraction would open up Ambrose again and you would come back, just like you said you would.

He signed a thank you to Bo and immediately started to pull you out of his truck. Bo watched quizzically, not bothering to help just yet. When Vincent had pulled you out of the truck, he didn't account for your upper half and you promptly slid to the ground.

Bo hissed between his teeth. "That's gonna hurt. Need some help getting her downstairs?"

Vincent nodded, and the brothers uncharacteristically worked together to bring you downstairs. Bo helped tie you up to his bed and then gave Vincent a pat on the back. "Do what you want with her, but wrap it up, if you know what I mean."

Vincent rolled his eye at his brothers implications. Bo just patted his shoulder and then turned to leave. As he left, you stirred. Opening your eyes, you looked around. You were in a familiar place, but not a place you'd been to in some years.

Seeing movement, your eyes focused onto the man before you. You instantly recognized him. "Vincent?"

He nodded. You moved to try to hug him, but the restraints kept you in place. You then realized what was happening. You had been kidnapped, and Vincent was keeping you here. Your expression turned sad. You never thought your Vinny could be capable of something like this.

"Vinny..."

"Its okay," he signed. "I'll take care of you, and you don't have to do anything in return."

"Take care of me? Vinny, this isn't a permanent thing, I have to get back to my family."

"You are family. You are mine. I won't let you go again. Ever." He got closer to you as he signed.

"Vincent, you cannot keep me here forever." You tried to keep your soft tone but you were beginning to freak out as the reality set in.

"Watch me."

• ───────────────── •

Here's my masterlist, in case you like what you see and want to request more!

[jaegersdevil]

vodka problems – eren jaeger

Modern!Eren x Fem!Reader

Summary: Sasha and Connie throw a party, and all the exciting things happen at parties! OR in which you and Eren are exes, and it's the first party you both attend after the break-up.

w/c: 5k+

warnings: maybe ooc eren (because idk how to write him yet, yikes), angst, alcohol, dissociating, c-word (3 whole times), swearing, anxiety about the future & love, maybe some errors, and a rushed ending because i had no more ideas. a/n: this isn’t how i thought this would go, but it’s how it turned out so, enjoy.

You were going to kill them. Nothing could sway you from doing so. Sasha Braus was about to be your first victim, and Connie Springer your second. The plan was already brewing in your mind: promise them an all-you-can-eat buffet, take the pair to a warehouse, blindfolded, get them into a position where the method of execution could be performed (you hadn’t thought that far ahead yet), and then strike. Quick and easy, and nobody would be surprised; they couldn’t even be convinced to go in the first place because you’d already said this to their faces. 

“Don’t be so dramatic!” Sasha exclaimed, rolling her eyes. You glared at her from your spot on her bed and then at Connie, who sat on the floor against the wall across the room. 

Connie laughed manically. “She’s gone insane!” 

You shook your head, clenching your fists to stop the slight shaking of your hands. “Guys…” 

At the sound of your exasperated tone, Sasha threw a lone throw pillow at Connie’s face, and the pair stopped teasing. 

“Listen,” Sasha started, sauntering toward you. “We can’t just… exclude him from our group get-togethers because you broke up.” 

It was the truth you had accepted a month ago, yet it was like a thousand needles in your stomach when Sasha said it aloud. You nodded, your gaze finding your hands.

“I’m sure he feels the same right now,” Sasha looked over her shoulder at Connie, who shrugged. The former rolled her eyes again and turned back to you. “Or at least, I hope he does. Asshole.” 

“Hey! It’s not like he’s been sleeping around! Eren’s a good guy,” Connie’s face screwed up in an angered expression at the thought that his closest friends were talking wrong about his other friend. “Just because he’s not hung up on this doesn’t make him an asshole!” He stood up, Sasha facing him. 

His last comment made your eyes weary. The one thousand needles tripled. 

“We know that! But-–” Sasha tilted her head in your direction. “Let girls talk shit, okay? It was a bad situation.” 

Connie cringed at the mention of the aftermath of your and Eren’s breakup. “Maybe you’re right.”

“I am right,” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Y/n is allowed to react the way she is because girls can feel emotions without being overdramatic.” 

“What about killing us? You said she was being dramatic.” 

“I mean, threatening to kill your friends is a little…” Sasha glanced at you. “But everything else! I know what you boys have been saying, and it’s not only hurtful to Y/n but to me! And Mikasa! Girls, in general! Just because Eren moved on so quickly doesn’t mean Y/n has to! She has every right to feel the way she does. I was like this for months when Nic and I broke up!”

“That was a different thing, and you got back together.”

“Besides the point!”

“Sasha?” You pipe up, tired of watching your friends argue over you. 

The two twist their heads toward you, forgetting you were there. Sasha’s eyes softened when she saw the dejected look on your face. 

“I’m just gonna go,” You wring your fingers. “I’ll see you tonight, though. Yeah?” 

Connie opened his mouth to say something, but Sasha elbowed him. “Yes, we will be seeing you tonight. Glad you’re coming.” 

You got up from the bed, and Sasha hugged you.

“Bye, Con.”

“Bye,” Connie replied solemnly. 

As you left the room, you heard a smack. “Do you ever know when to shut the fuck up, Springer?” 

You left their shared apartment—where you would return later. 

—

7:29 pm

Hearing the elevator ding, you turned towards the opening doors; the smell of sweat, alcohol, and weed hit you in the face as you exited. Despite Sasha and Connie’s apartment halfway down the hallway, the music and scents spilled out their front door. 

You held the bottle of Chardonnay you had brought loosely between your fingers, the effects of the other bottle of wine you had downed before coming hitting you straight on: liquid courage and all that. 

You opened the door without knocking and stepped into Sasha and Connie’s apartment. Music made the floor vibrate, which was ignored due to your inebriated and gloomy state. 

“Y/n!” Hands on your shoulders, and the familiar ecstatic energy of your best friend drew you out of your daze. “You’re here!” 

“I’m here!” You laughed bitterly, although the previous unwanted anxiety and feelings towards tonight were already dissipating. 

“Oh jeez, you’re already gone,” Sasha shook her head disapprovingly. “Tch, should’ve kept you here from this morning.” 

You disagreed. “No! See, I wouldn’t have brought us a bottle if I stayed here. This is for nobody else.” 

Sasha’s grin grew wider. “Thank you!”

You lifted the bottle towards her face, giggling. Sasha snatched the bottle out of your hand as soon as it was close enough and uncapped it, all in one motion.

Your jaw dropped at the sight of the now half-empty bottle in her hands. “Sash!” 

She held the bottle out of your reach and grabbed your hand, pulling you into the kitchen. “I think the boys are in Connie’s room, but don’t worry, I won’t take you to them.”

You knew who the boys entailed, and you were beyond grateful. 

“Annie, Ymir, and Historia are in the living room, playing some board game. I don’t know who does that at a party, but they’re having fun…” Then she looked behind you. “Oh! Marco,” Sasha pushed you backwards slightly. “Get Y/n a drink. I gotta pee.” 

You stumbled back into a tall figure, spinning around to meet your friend. “Marco!”

The freckled boy rubbed the back of his neck and smiled. “Y/n! What would you like?”

You pursed your lips in thought. “Make me a mimosa? Mr. Bartender?” 

Marco laughed and reached up to retrieve a glass from the cupboard unit beside you. “Of course, Miss. Any special requests?” 

You eyed the Grey Goose on the counter, not thinking twice about your answer. “Hold the vodka, please.” 

Marco blanched as he poured sparkling wine into a cup. “Oh, yeah, okay. No problem.” 

You folded your lips between your teeth at the awkward air settling between you, and you didn’t think your response through before it slipped out. The music from the living room speakers, paired with the clink of a spoon on glass, was the only sound in the kitchen. 

It was no secret what had happened between you and Eren—the entire friend group had been there to witness it, which was the worst part. A party, a few bottles of vodka, and insecurities from both sides were at play that night. It was a recipe for disaster, and it just so happened that you and Eren were the casualties, along with friendships that were becoming more strained as the weeks passed. It didn’t help that you or Eren were often missing from group gatherings when the other was present, but somehow, Sasha had managed to get you in the same apartment as him for a night. It was either a master plan that could save the group or cause it to dismantle completely, and nobody wanted that. 

“Here you go,” Marco said, pushing the glass across the counter. 

Tears welled in your eyes at his sudden distance. “Thanks, Marc.” 

At the sound of your teary voice, his eyes shot toward you. “Hey, hey,” He reached for you, bringing you into his chest. “I’m sorry. No crying tonight, okay? Nobody hates you, I promise. You are as much a part of this group as he is. You are not allowed to leave.” 

“Who said I was leaving?” You mumbled into his chest, tears dampening his t-shirt. 

“People talk,” He replied, rubbing your back. “And a little Sasha told me you mentioned the group would be better without you.” 

You sniffled and laughed, eyes watery. “Can you blame me? Mikasa hasn’t spoken to me in a month, and Armin only says hello when he has to. I can’t keep putting myself through that. I don’t want to lose more friends over this.”

“If I were a nice person who cared about your well-being, I would tell you to leave us ASAP. But since I’m not, I need you to stay, okay? Who else would I make mimosas for at these ‘parties’?” 

You laughed and pulled away. “Nobody.” 

“Exactly!” Marco exclaimed. “And just you being here tonight tells me you don’t actually want to leave.” 

“Yeah, I guess.” 

“No guessing about it,” Marco stepped back. “You are staying. Now,” He clapped. “Wanna join the losers in the living room for a game of Monopoly?” 

You nodded, sipping your drink. Marco would never know the effect his words had on you. No matter what happened with Eren, you had a place in this group. Sure, Sasha had repeatedly told you the same thing, but hearing it from someone else, who didn’t have to say anything, was special. “I would love to.”

—

9:02 pm

After Sasha had joined the game and Historia had won Monopoly (thanks to Ymir, who kept slipping her money under the table), the rest of the boys emerged from Connie’s room, bringing the stench of weed along with them. 

“Holy shit! Y/n?” Jean yelled in greeting. The grin on his face was wide, and it caused one to break across your cheeks too. 

“Hi, Jeanie,” You laughed, standing up from the couch. You rounded the table to hug him, ignoring the others. You and Jean had always been close, even before you started dating Eren. Not seeing him because you chose to distance yourself proved more hurtful than beneficial. 

“Haven’t seen you for ages. How are you?” His voice was soft against your ear, and you tightened your arms around him. 

“Been better, but I missed you.” 

“We’re here too, you know,” Connie piped up, rolling his eyes. 

“I saw you this morning, idiot,” You laughed, Jean joining you as you pulled apart. 

You stepped to the right of Jean and scanned the faces of everyone in Connie’s room; Armin, Mikasa, Bertie, Reiner, Eren (sparingly), Connie himself, and—who is she? 

A petite brunette girl stood at Eren’s side. Her features were sharp and tinted pink when you met her eyes. 

You lifted your hand in a lazy wave and turned back to the couch. Your chest tightened at seeing someone you didn’t know hanging out with your group—were they replacing you already? 

Sasha noticed your fidgety hands and grabbed them as you sat next to her. You didn’t look anywhere but at the table. 

The room grew tense and awkward. 

And when nobody spoke, Eren threw his arms up. “I’m getting a beer. Anyone want one?” 

The sound of his voice was cutting. It shredded the weeks of progress you had tried to heal and buried deep into your subconsciousness. You missed his voice. 

Your eyes lifted, and when your gaze landed on him, Eren inhaled sharply. “I’ll have one.” 

Everybody held their breath as you and Eren exchanged words. They never thought they’d see the day, even if it was to be mean to each other. 

Eren’s lip curled. “You sure you don’t want vodka? I heard it’s good for ruining relationships, which you seem great at!”

“Okay! That’s where we end that. Real mature,” Sasha stood abruptly, her hands ripping from yours. “Eren, a word?” 

“Would love one, Sasha,” Eren’’s tone was clipped as he stalked back down the hallway. 

The brunette girl shifted her weight. You watched her stand awkwardly without Eren there. 

You couldn’t move with everyone’s eyes on you. With your muscles frozen, you’re eyes were unblinking as the muffled voices from down the hallway got louder. 

“Y/n, right?” A new voice spoke. You lifted your head and saw the new girl walking hesitantly toward you. “I’m Cate.” 

Your eyes flickered to Jean, who was holding his breath. A small smile replaced your blank stare as you shook the girl’s hand. You couldn’t hate this girl. No matter what happened between you and Eren, she would never be the target of your anger. 

“Nice to meet you.”

Around you, the room started moving normally again. Laughs were heard, and conversation picked back up. After her introduction, Cate scuttered to the kitchen, and you slumped back into the couch. 

“Nice to meet you,” Jean teased, flopping down next to you, lifting his leg to put it over your lap. 

“Shut the fuck up. What was I meant to say?” You snapped, smacking his knee. 

“What you said was fine. Jean’s just being a dick,” Marco said from the other side of you. 

“If anything, Eren’s being a dick,” Jean mumbled. 

You said nothing. And when Jean was going to start speaking again, a pair of legs stopped in front of you. 

The blonde boy looked nervous as he looked down at you. “Hey, Y/n.” 

“Hi, Armin. How are you?” 

He sighed and smiled. “I’m well. How are you?”

You shrugged one shoulder. “You know…” 

Armin nodded and sat on the coffee table in front of you. Your knees hit his as you pouted at him. 

“Armin… why haven’t I seen you in biochem?” You asked, giggling as you said your following sentence. “You didn’t drop out, did you?” 

Armin gaped at your jab and shook his head. “I’m offended at the thought! I had to change classes. It clashed with my other biology class.”

You smiled understandingly. “I guess I was just hurt you didn’t tell me. I know it can be awkward.” 

Armin sighed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think you’d want to hear from me.” 

“I always want to hear from you,” You furrowed your eyebrows. “You’re the only one who listens to my ramblings about everything.” 

Jean and Marco went to object, saying anything about how they’d had heard it all for the past few weeks when Armin laughed. “That’s true. Got anything for me right now?” 

“And that’s when we leave,” Jean stood, motioning for Marco to do the same. “Bye, guys.” 

—

10:39 pm

To say a majority of the group was intoxicated would be an understatement. 

Ymir and Historia left an hour ago because Historia was on the verge of passing out. Sasha and Eren had gone to different ends of the apartment a while ago after Sasha yelled at him for half an hour. He hadn’t looked in your direction since he came out of the room. 

Eren now sat, with Cate, on the couch, a beer held loosely between his fingers, taking sparse swigs. His eyes were heavy, but his cold facade never wavered. Surrounding him were Bertie, Reiner, Mikasa, Armin, and Annie. They were conversing about the NBA or NFL; you couldn’t remember the topic when you left. 

Conversely, you were perched on the counter in the kitchen as Marco, Jean, Connie, and Sasha competed in a ‘who could make the better drink’, with you as the judge. You were beyond tipsy, everything falling from your lips unfiltered, which was good and bad when tasting their beverages. 

Your face soured as you swallowed. “Fuck, Jean! That’s disgusting!” 

The tall boy cackled, holding his stomach as you tipped the rest of the drink down the sink. “I spent my time on that! You're so ungrateful!” 

The rest of the group laughed at your misfortune, pushing various shaped cups and glasses in your direction for you to try. 

The laughter soon died when Cate walked into the kitchen. She wore a smile on her face and waved when she noticed everyone’s eyes on her. “Hey, guys. What’re you doing?” 

“Best drink competition, wanna play? Y/n’s judging,” Connie asked, his eyes hanging and words slurred. 

“Uh, yes! I’ll make mine now. No peeking!” She laughed, picking up a random cup off the opposite counter. You and the others covered your eyes playfully. 

“Okay, done,” Cate muttered, handing you a black cup. “Tell me what you think.” 

Maybe it was the alcohol playing tricks on you, but when she handed you the cup, the typical mischief you’d encountered in everyone else’s eyes when they gave you their drinks was far less dark and cynical than hers. Cate wore a smirk as Jean did, but it seemed more calculated than his silly one. But your drunk brain was too dismissive to take it to heart. So, you took a sip of her drink. 

And when the sharp tang of vodka hit your tongue, you almost vomited. Your lips parted, and your eyes watered at the taste and what it had caused you weeks ago. 

“Bitch,” You whispered, yet nobody heard. 

The kitchen was silent as Cate stood before you, arms folded over her chest. She leaned closer to you, her mouth next to your ear. “It’s a shame. You’re so pretty but such a cunt. I almost feel bad for the guy. He had to tolerate you for so long. Thanks for letting me have him.” 

And as Cate fell back onto her heels, she sighed, like uttering those words filled her with relief. 

Sasha instantly recognised the look on your face and gasped. Even in her drunken haze, she had perfect aim. Her palm came in contact with Cate’s cheek before the boys could even react, and you took no notice of what had just happened, gaze unfocused and on the floor. 

“Woah!” Connie yelled, placing his glass in the sink to hold back his best friend. 

“Sasha, what?” Jean exclaimed, hooking his arms around Cate’s from behind. 

And Marco was silent. He stood beside you, taking the cup from your hands and sniffing the liquid. He sighed when he recognised the smell. “Fuck.” He whispered. 

“You’re never allowed back into my house! Get out!” Sasha screamed. “Or you’ll finally get to see the crazy bitch you’ve been calling me for a month!” 

The commotion had finally caused a reaction from the group in the living room, who were now flooding the space. The music was quiet, which made the scene more tense.

“What the fuck is going on?” Reiner yelled over the arguing, taking notice of Cate in Jean’s arms and Sasha in Connie's. 

“Let go of me, Connie!” Sasha cried. She now had tears streaming down her face at the same rate as you. 

You were dissociating; Sasha could see it clear as day. Your hands shook, and your eyes were unfocused as you stared at the floor, your body swaying ever so slightly. 

“Please, let me go.” 

Having heard the plea and sadness in Sasha’s voice, Connie released her. The girl stumbled out of his hold and rushed toward you, helping you off the counter with Marco’s assistance. She ushered you back into the living room and down the hallway to her room. 

“Let go of Cate, bro,” Eren snapped, stepping forward to reach her. 

Jean threw his friend a glare. “Okay, bro,” Jean laughed bitterly and let go of the brunette. 

Nobody in the kitchen said a word except for Marco, who had had enough awkward silences tonight. 

“Before you go, Eren, because you tend to do that a lot now, I’d take a good, hard look at who you’re keeping company,” Marco shifted his gaze to Cate, who stood rubbing her arms. 

“Me? You think this is my fault? That girl is insane! No wonder you broke up, Ren,” She looked up at Eren. 

The other boys, Mikasa and Annie, watched anxiously for Eren’s next move. 

—

11:00 pm

Meanwhile, you were in Sasha’s room sipping on a water bottle she handed you. Despite the short time, you were already starting to sober up, both from the shock of what just happened and the granola bar Sasha had forced down your throat after she locked her bedroom door. 

“God, I hate her. I tried to keep quiet tonight for Eren’s sake, but I can’t, not after that,” Sasha mumbled. “What did she say to you?” 

“Uh,” You bit your bottom lip. “She called me a cunt and thanked me for giving her Eren or something. I don’t know. I zoned out.” 

Sasha let out a noise of frustration. “If I could punch Eren, I would. He has some serious nerve bringing her here when he knew you were coming.” 

“It’s no big deal. I mean, it’s true,” You said tonelessly. “I did some fucked up stuff to him that night.” 

“Firstly, shut up! You’re not a cunt, how are you? You got the courage to come here in the first place, and I’m so proud of you. Just because one girl, who must hate women, said that about you doesn’t mean you are one. It's a reflection of her, not you. And secondly, he said shit too! You’re both in the wrong. Stop taking all the blame.” 

“Thanks, Sash.” 

“You know what I mean. It’s bullshit. I hate that people took sides; I really do. It makes me feel like our group wasn’t as close as I thought.”

You placed your hand in hers. “I’m sorry for fucking up our friend group.”

Sasha sighed. “You didn’t fuck it up,” her eyes were glassy when she looked at you. “I think it was already fucked up.” 

Her statement made you laugh sadly. 

But your laugh was cut short by the sound of the front door slamming. You shared a look with Sasha as you heard footsteps approaching the bedroom door. 

“That’s probably Jean. Bet Eren left,” Sasha mumbled, squeezing your hand before straightening up from her bed. 

And as she opened the door, nothing could prepare you for who was standing there with his fist raised to knock. 

“Oh my god,” Sasha groaned. “Have you finally decided to talk to her? All it took was some girl to insult her for you to want to speak with her?” 

Every muscle in your body was unmoving. It was like someone had poured ice water over your head. If you hadn’t sobered up from the snack and water before, you definitely had now. 

“Sasha, please,” Eren whispered. Even though he towered over Sasha, Eren looked small. He was curled in on himself, shoulders hunched. 

“It’s okay, Sash,” You stated, noticing how Eren’s demeanour changed at your words. He looked almost the same as when you were together, ganging up on your friends to tease them lovingly. 

“Fine,” Sasha said firmly. Then she brought her finger to Eren’s chest. “But if you make her cry, I will strangle you.” 

Eren just nodded, knowing it wasn’t the time to joke around. Sasha side-stepped to let him inside her room before turning around and holding the door handle.

“I will shut this door for privacy only. I don’t want to walk in here later to see you’ve killed each other,” Despite her words, Sasha smiled as she said so. 

“Bye, Sash,” You wave, hyperaware of Eren standing a few feet away. 

“Yeah, yeah.” 

And when the door clicked shut, Eren shifted in his spot. You waited for him to speak, but it never came. You guessed his conversation with Sasha earlier in the night had put him in his place.

“Where do you wanna start?” You asked, choosing to help him sort out his thoughts instead of attacking him immediately. 

Eren, seemingly grateful, fidgeted with his hands. “I want to talk about the party first.” 

You nodded, looking away from him. 

“I wanna start by saying we both had too much to drink that night. I should’ve never tried to find you afterwards; I was just so confused and hurt,” Only then did Eren glance in your direction. You met his eyes and shook your head. “I want to hear your side, but could I say my piece first?” 

You nodded, allowing him to continue. 

“Thanks,” He sighed with a crooked smile and shook his head softly to rid it. “Anyway, I, uh—that night went downhill so fast. I know they say that drunk words are sober thoughts, I know. But at that moment, I was so angry. I was angry at myself, you, and everyone else at that damn party because I—I couldn't take the questions, and the expectations, and the responsibilities. And you’re right. I am immature because I couldn’t understand why you made that choice, and I still don’t understand why you did. It just hurt me so deeply that I didn’t know how to accept it. I still don’t!"

"I stumbled around all night with that damn bottle of vodka because I knew you liked it, and when I saw you with the same bottle dancing with Sasha, I snapped. I couldn't believe you were having fun after hurting me so badly," Eren paced the floor. “But I can’t move on from you, sweetheart. I really can’t. And tonight,” He sighed deeply. “I don’t know why I brought her here. I guess I just wanted you to hurt as much as I do. But, if I knew she would act like that toward you, I never would've spoken to her in the first place. I’m sorry for that.” 

Tears brimmed your lash line as you nodded. Eren remained near the door. 

“I—uh, I’m sorry for everything I said too. Yes, you can be immature, but you’re not arrogant or aloof when speaking about serious stuff; you're doing it right now. And I’m sorry for doubting your love for me—in hindsight, it was a shitty thing to say considering…” You trailed off.

Eren stayed silent.

“I literally hung you out to dry in front of everyone, and you're still here trying to make amends with me!" You exclaimed, angry with yourself. "That's like one of the least immature things ever."

You sighed, rubbing your forehead. "That night scared the shit out of me, with all the talk about the future and what we’re going to do when we graduate literally next semester. Eren,” You look up at him. “I don’t have any plan. I’m going to finish my degree, and then what? I don’t want this to end. I don’t want to see my friends once a year because we’re all on different sides of the country, of the world! I want to stay here with the lunatics out there and you.”

The sudden confession made you pause. Eren inhaled sharply, meeting your eyes. You swallowed and continued. “I always wanted to stay with you.” 

Neither of you spoke. As you stared at each other, you noticed small things about Eren’s appearance that hadn’t been there the last time you’d seen him: the flyaways near his face were longer, his usual clean-shaven jaw was lightly stubbled, his black t-shirt was tighter around his arms, and the green in his eyes was darker. 

Eren broke the silence first. “I just want to know why you said no,” He begged. 

You were waiting for this question. Sure, Eren had asked it when you’d first answered his initial question, but now, he deserved an explanation. He hadn’t been angry at your answer, more heartbroken than anything. 

“You say you want to stay with me forever, yet you say no at the first real chance to do that.” 

You blinked, and tears fell down your cheeks. “I know,” Your voice was strained as you wiped at your eyes. “I’m sorry.” 

The bed dipped beside you, and Eren’s thigh pressed against yours. And as you hiccuped, Eren wrapped his arm around your shoulders, letting you lean into him. 

“It’s my biggest regret, saying no to you. I couldn't believe you’d actually want me like that.” 

“Of course, I want you like that. I want you in every way if you’d let me. But until you say the word, I’m not acting on anything you don’t want me to.”

You lifted your head from his chest and turned toward him. His arm fell from your shoulders, and you took his hands in yours. 

“If you asked me again, just know I’d say yes,” You cried. “That night… that night was among the very few when I didn’t believe you were real. There is absolutely no way that someone could love me the way you do. Nobody. I believed I would never be loved like that from a very young age. And it was confusing when you came into my life and told me differently after I'd spent years drilling into my mind that I’d be alone forever.” 

“I was terrified that saying yes meant I was falling for some cruel joke,” Eren’s hand hovered over your cheek before you tilted your face to rest in his hand. “But now that you’re still here, still wanting to marry me after I said all those horrible things to you, I know what you feel is true. You’re true.” 

Eren laughed, eyes watery as he nodded. “That doesn't make sense. But, yeah, I’m real, and my love for you will always be real.” 

"It only took a failed proposal for me to realise what I lost," You cringed, peering over at Eren.

He gave you a pained expression, hand over his chest. "Ouch, at my expense?"

You nodded, dragging your hand over your cheeks. "Unfortunately."

And just like that, the pair of you fell back in sync. Eren wrapped his arms around your shoulders, hugging you close. "I know we still have a lot to talk about, but can we just sit here for now?"

"Yeah," You whispered, circling your arms around his waist.

"I'm sorry for what I said earlier in the living room," Eren muttered.

"It's okay. I was ready to say something mean back before Sasha interrupted. So I'll apologise for the intent."

Eren snorted. "I don't think anything you say to me could stop me from loving you."

"Even when I yell at you for leaving dishes in the sink?"

"Especially then," And then you felt him lick your cheek.

"And he's back," You mumble, wiping the side of your face. "I was starting to miss the weird side of you."

"Not my fault."

"Too soon."

You pulled yourself out of his embrace and composed yourself, wiping under your eyes and shaking your arms.

“Let’s start over,” Sticking your hand out, you sighed. “Hi, I’m Y/n.” 

Eren shook his head and clutched your outstretched hand. “Hi, Y/n. I’m Eren. I hope you don’t mind, but I will propose about a month into our inevitable relationship.” 

You smiled at him, tears slipping past your lashes again. “And this time, I’ll say yes, Mr Jaeger.” 

“Hey, I never told you my last name.” 

[certifiedcallahanstan]

The memoir of a horny fangirl

chapter 2

Warnings: This is a pretty heavy chapter, it shows a really vulnerable side to Hazel and the shitty side of the reader. I had to get this chapter done, so the rest can be lighter and more *spicy*. The next chapter will get back to baseball hazel!!

This chapter contains: sa

It’s been a couple days since you had received the picture and you know you shouldn’t be upset, Hazel is a grown woman and is allowed to kiss whomever she wants, it’s not like you two are together anyways. That however doesn’t stop you from trying to avoid her.

P.J invites you to the coffee shop with Josie and Brittany to do quote on quote “studying” which really means she wants to talk to you all about her latest hook up.

Despite your initial reluctance, you find yourself getting caught up in the conversation.

“and i mean it wasn’t a fucking normal sized strap, that shit was like- fucking xxl” P.J moves her hands at least a feet apart from eachother trying to demonstrate the size and josie scrunches up her nose.

“I don’t need to hear that P.J, you keep that to yourself” she huffs and you cover your mouth trying to stop a laugh from escaping.

For a brief moment, the weight of your emotions regarding Hazel and the photo fade into the background as you lose yourself in the conversation until eventually Brittany convinces everyone that we should probably study.

You pull out your notes adorned with doodles of different sea creatures and facts about them when you hear a familiar voice approach the table.

“Hey guys” the voice that belongs to the shaggy brunette starts “Josie told me you all were studying and that..” she looks at her phone reading the text “We are about to kill P.J, please come before one of us commits a felony”

P.J just responds with a huff a mutters something along the lines of “you all are just mad i get more hoes” as Hazel pulls out a chair and joins the group.

You scoot slightly more away from Hazel hoping nobody will notice. unfortunately these chairs are millenniums old and makes and obnoxious screeching noise

You cringe inwardly, feeling a flush of embarrassment creep up your cheeks as all eyes turn in your direction.

Hazel's gaze flickers briefly in your direction, her brow furrowing in confusion at the sudden noise.

"Sorry about that," you mumble, offering a sheepish smile as you try to play off the noise. "These chairs are... uh, not the most cooperative."

Everyone seems to accept that excuse as they get back to their previous tasks. You start shading in the sea creature you were previously drawing in your journal when you feel P.J looming over you.

“what the fuck knuckles is that” she says as she points at your drawing

you look down at a your notebook where you had draw what looks like a eel-shark hybrid

“it’s called a frilled shark” you start explaining as all eyes look at you “they get their name from the frilly appearance of their gill sets. In fact they’re one of the few sharks that eat their prey whole…”

You trail off awkwardly, realizing that you may have gone a bit overboard with your explanation when you see everyone blankly staring at you. Clearing your throat, you try to steer the conversation back on track.

"Anyway, um... yeah, it's just a cool creature I thought I'd draw," you finish lamely

“I think it’s sick”

you turn your head to the voice and see Hazel smiling at you “i mean a shark that moves like an eel?”

"Yeah, exactly!" you respond, a smile spreading across your face as you meet Hazel's gaze. "It's pretty fascinating how they've adapted to their environment."

fuck why does she have to be so damn irresistible.

your thoughts are cut off by the slamming of a text book and you see Brittany getting up “my brain feels all mushy, im going home to take a nap”

Josie nods, putting her computer in her back pack “i should probably get back to Isabel” and P.J mutters something about going to “fuck then duck” whatever that means.

Soon enough it’s just you and Hazel, you try to ignore the tension, but damn it’s so thick you could cut it with a knife.

For a moment, neither of you speaks, the silence stretching between you as you both seem lost in your own thoughts. You fidget nervously, unsure of what to say.

Finally, Hazel clears her throat, breaking the silence with a hesitant smile. "So... um, how have you been?" she asks, her voice soft and tentative.

You swallow, trying to push aside the swirling emotions that threaten to overwhelm you. "I've been okay," you reply, your voice slightly strained. "Just... you know, trying to stay busy with school and stuff."

and not making out with random red heads and getting chlamydia you add in your head.

Hazel nods, her gaze flickering briefly as she seems to search for the right words. "Yeah, I get that," she says quietly “hey um..have you been avoiding me? i’ve tried to text you but you haven’t answered and everytime i try to come up to you you walk the opposite direction”

your jaw clenches as you start putting everything in your shark printed back pack “what reason would i have to avoid you Hazel” your voice tinged with frustration and hurt.

she runs her ringed fingers through her hair and you try not to notice the prominent veins “that’s what i’m trying to figure out, did i do something?”

“not everything is about you callahan” you grunt out as you try to gather all your loose papers

“here let me help-“

“i don’t need your help” you shove her arm away and in the process her hand hits an open water bottle spilling water all over your notebook. the notebooks that has three years worth of research in it

A sense of panic washes over you as you scramble to salvage what you can, frantically wiping at the water with trembling hands. Hazel watches helplessly, her expression a mixture of concern and regret.

"I'm sorry," she says softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't mean to... I was just trying to..."

You cut her off with a sharp gesture, your own frustration boiling over as you struggle to contain your emotions. "Just... leave me alone, Hazel," you mutter, your voice thick with emotion.

she steps back as her eyebrows knit together “this wouldn’t have happened if you just let me help. Maybe instead of pushing people away talk to them”

You can see the hurt etched in her features, and for a moment, you feel a pang of guilt tug at your conscience.

"I'm sorry, I just..." you begin, your voice catching in your throat as tears threaten to spill from your eyes. With a heavy sigh, you toss your notebook into the trash and sling your backpack over your shoulder

"I have to go," you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper as you turn away, unable to face Hazel in that moment. With each step you take, the distance between you and Hazel grows, the ache of regret gnawing at your heart.

Hazel just presses her lips together and nods before you see the same red head from the photo calling her name in an annoying high pitched voice.

You watch in silence as Hazel hesitates, her eyes briefly searching yours for any sign of a response. Before you can gather your thoughts, she turns away, putting on a fake smile as the red-headed girl approaches.

"What's up, Becca?" she says, her tone polite but strained, the artificiality of her smile not escaping your notice.

you turn away, knowing that it's not your place to intervene in Hazel's personal life. And also if you stayed there someone would be getting punched in the face, and here’s a hint. it wasn’t going to be you.

—————————————

“Did you say sorry at least?” Isabel ask as you lay upside down on her bed, letting the blood flow rush to your head to try to forget about what Josie now calls “they great water incident” that happened last week

"Yeah, I did," you reply with a sigh, your voice muffled from your upside-down position. “kinda.. i dunno. I mean you should’ve seen the way that becky, bexar, what ever the fuck her name is held onto her”

P.J shoves a handful of chips into her mouth and shrugs “i say kill the bitch”

Josie tosses a pillow at her face and huffs “We already have one murderous charge against us, we don’t need another”

Isabel nods in agreement. "Exactly. We'll figure this out without resorting to murder,"

“fine” P.J huffs holding her hands in the air “but just know that i know people”

“mhmm” you hum as you launch yourself back into an upright position on the bed stealing chips from P.J’s bowl.

As the group starts debating whether han solo or darth vader would be better in bed, you can’t help but wonder at this exact moment what hazel is doing.

——————————————

Hazel sits on her bed in her apartment talking about how the frilled shark can unhinge their jaw and eat prey at least twice their size as the red head sits and stares at her.

Hazel has never been one for social cues, she sincerely honestly thought that Rebecca just needed a friend, and sure they made out at the party but in her defense her face looked similar to yours in the midst of her 6 shots.

So here they are in Hazels apartment, Hazel blabbering about the eel-shark abomination (that she most definitely didn’t spend five hours researching after finding out about it)

“Rebecca? did you hear what i said” she stops and tilts her head with wide eyes

Rebecca nods and turns to Hazel “mhm- yeah the shark is like- long or some shit”

“you seem distracted” the brunette mutters “and it’s not called a long shark it’s called a frilled shark because-“ her sentence is interrupted when she hears Rebecca let out a drawn out sigh and move closer to Hazel.

“Yeah that’s kinda gross Hazey and i’m bored so how about we have some fun…”

“i don’t know what you mean-“ hazel starts before the girl lifts her shirt off and suddenly Hazel realizes why this girl has been being so nice to her.

"I... I don't think that's a good idea," Hazel stammers, her voice tinged with unease as she shifts uncomfortably on the bed.

“come on baby” Rebecca whines as she crawls into an unwilling Hazels lap “I’ve heard how good you are in bed”

And it’s true, Hazel was amazing in bed and she has had her fair share of hookups, but usually she knows about them before.

"Rebecca, I... I really don't think this is a good idea," Hazel insists, her voice shaky as she gently tries to push Rebecca away. "I'm not interested in anything like that right now."

“shhh” Rebecca whispers out as she slams her lips against Hazels and suddenly everything seems too much, Rebecca’s lips are wet, the lights are too bright, the AC is too loud. Panic grips her as she struggles to push Rebecca away, her thoughts a jumble of fear and confusion.

"Stop," Hazel manages to choke out, her voice barely audible over the rush of blood in her ears. She pushes against Rebecca's chest with all her strength, her heart pounding with urgency.

Rebecca pulls back, frustration evident on her face. "What's wrong?" she demands, her voice tinged with irritation.

Hazel's chest heaves as she tries to catch her breath, her mind reeling with a flood of emotions. "I... I told you to stop," she says, her voice trembling

Rebecca's expression darkens, her features contorted with anger as she takes a step forward. "You're just playing hard to get,"

Hazel manages to push Rebecca off her lap and quickly stands up, putting some distance between them.

"I think it's best if you leave," she says firmly, her voice trembling slightly with the effort to maintain composure.

With a frustrated huff, Rebecca storms out of the room, leaving Hazel alone with her racing thoughts and pounding heart. As she sinks onto the bed she grabs her phone with shakey hands and presses your contact then the call button.

“Hey what’s up” your voice bellows out from Hazels phone

“Hey i don’t know what-“

“HAHA JK this is my voice mail, leave a message or don’t i don’t care” your voice interrupts and Hazel can’t help the tears that fall down her face

“Hey..i don’t know if you’ll see this but Rebecca was here and i thought we were just friends, i mean i know i kissed her but i was drunk and..anyways we were talking and-“ Hazels voice cracks “-and she climbed on me and i told her to get off but she didn’t and- and she kissed me and maybe it’s my fault but..i don’t know what the point of calling you is because i’m pretty sure you hate me. I dunno, i just needed to tell someone.”

She presses the hang up button and brings her knees to her chest letting out a sob. How could she have been so stupid? Flash backs of when her dad would buy her these new suits and buttons up because he knew you hated dresses, but then make her get dressed in front of him flashed back into her mind.

Despite her best efforts to push those memories aside, they continue to haunt her, casting a shadow over her as she cries herself eventually to sleep.

———————————

it’s not until two days later that you see the voice mail, you’re sitting in your biology class with your airpod in when you click the play button.

“What the fuck?!” you blurt out when it finishes and suddenly all eyes are on you.

You smile sheepishly as you gather all of your belongings and rush out of the classroom calling P.J

after three rings she answers with a “I’m talking to this really hot chick so this better be important”

“You remember when we said that we weren’t going to kill anyone anymore”

P.J hums “well YOU ALL said that, i never actually agreed to it”

“Yeah well…it’s time for some killing..or at least seriously maiming”

as you explained the situation to P.J, the last thing she said before she hung up was

“let’s go kick some leprechaun ass”

————————————

Okay so YOU didn’t kick some leprechaun ass, P.J insisted she could take Rebecca herself and you assuming it went well because as you were driving (well over the speed limit) to Hazels house you receive a message from P.J saying “i’m like 75% sure she’s still alive, anyways if police come questioning you, say a rabid bear attacked her”

You chose not to question her further.

You get to Hazels house and you take a deep breath, you’ve never been good at comforting people, usually you just pat their back and give them water. You assume that probably won’t work for this situation .

Taking a deep breath, you exit your car and make your way to Hazel's apartment. Each step feels heavier than the last, the weight of the situation bearing down on you with each passing moment.

you knock on the door three times fast, two slow, that was your signature knock for her since middle school. As the door swings open, you're greeted by the sight of Hazel, her eyes red-rimmed from tears. Without a word, you pull her into a tight embrace, holding her close.

“y-you came-“ Hazel mutters out as you pull away and she wipes her eyes

“yeah of course haze, im sorry i didn’t see the voice mail till today”

Hazel nods, her expression grateful as she steps back, allowing you to enter her apartment. As you settle into the living room, Hazel gestures for you to take a seat on the couch beside her. You can sense her hesitancy, so you squeeze her hand and softly smile.

“you can talk to me about whatever, you know that right haze?”

Hazel meets your gaze, her eyes reflecting a mixture of emotions—vulnerability, fear, and a glimmer of hope. With a shaky breath, she begins to recount the events of that night, pouring out her heart and soul to you.

And all you saw was fucking red. How the fuck could someone do this to her Hazel, her sweet, beautiful, funny Hazel?

Your heart pounds in your chest as Hazel's words sink in, each one feeling like a blow to your own sense of justice. Anger simmers beneath the surface as you listen to the betrayal she endured, your grip on her hand tightening instinctively.

Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you meet Hazel's gaze with determination burning in your eyes. "Hazel, I am so sorry that you had to go through that," you say, your voice firm but gentle. "But I promise you, we will get through this together. I won't let anyone hurt you like that again."

Hazel coughs out a laugh and looks at you with wet eyes “That’s supposed to be my line”

You smile softly at her response, a flicker of warmth spreading through your chest. "Well, consider it borrowed for now," you say, returning her gaze with sincerity. "Because I mean every word of it. I'm here for you, Hazel, no matter what."

In that moment, as you sit together in quiet solidarity, you know that your bond with Hazel runs deeper than words can express. And with that unspoken understanding, you both find solace in each other's presence.

[zeltqz]

who’s caving first? || haruchiyo sanzu.

S U M M A R Y: When Sanzu only wants to spend time with his sister to get to her best friend .

W A R N I N G S - oral sex (face sitting), haruchiyo is desperate, so is reader, senju is innocent bless her, rough sex, fem!reader, pet names, teasing, sexual tension, slight enemies to lovers —you gotta squint tho—

W O R D C O U N T - 6K YEEAH

N O T E S - im actually really proud of this. HEHEHE HOPE U GUYS LIKE <333333. Also if there’s any typos pls ignore. I’m so tired rn

T A G G I N G - @magentaviolette @gajeelstan @nalyana @luvhaitani @keisaint @imjustaweirdnerd

“…chiyo. Haruchiyo!”

Sanzu snaps his head up to his sister as she’s giving him a confused yet disappointed look. “What?”

“What?” Senju scoffs, “what do you mean what? You asked to come over for ‘bonding time’, now you’re not even paying attention!! What the hell Haruuuu--“

Ugh. She’s whining again. Haruchiyo fights the urge to tell her to shut up, instead he puts on his best poker face. “Sorry, I got a little distracted.” He continues swiping the egg wash on the crust of the pastry. 

“Hm, with what?” Senju rolls the dough between her hands, cringing at the way the flour sticks under her acrylics. It’s going to be a pain to clean that up later. 

“My…thoughts.”

He’s not lying. If his thoughts were a person called Y/N, then he’s on point. It’s hard for him to focus on literally anything from the way at this angle he’s standing at, he has perfect access to Senju’s backyard. By the pool, you’re too engrossed by your phone to notice the way he is staring at you from over the top of Senju’s head.

Ah, great. He’s distracted again, too focused on the way your feet are kicking the water from where you sit at the pool ledge. Each splash generates a ripple that flows for a couple seconds before disbanding. It’s not the water physics he’s distracted by.

It’s what you’re wearing .

Of course it wouldn’t be appropriate to be wearing something baggy and flimsy during summer—especially if you’re by a pool. But you really didn’t have to wear something so revealing. It’s killing him inside knowing that you’re off limits because you’re ‘Senju’s friend’. That stupid rule made by literally nobody but society. He’s not sure if Senju cares or not if he fucks you, but it’s still an awkward thing to ask someone. 

Sanzu looks down at the small bowl where the egg wash is—was. Now empty as he’s been mindlessly brushing the liquid onto each pastry that Senju placed onto the tray.

“Oh, is it finished?” Senju has to place her hands on the counter to lift herself up a little bit to see over the bowl from where its placed by Haruchiyo. The empty carton of eggs next to his hands also  catching her eye.  “We ran out of eggs too… Y/N!”

“What?!” You call from outside, still engrossed in your phone. The slightest faintest smile is on your face as you bite your lip reading your messages. 

Haruchiyo can feel his fingers tighten against the handle of the basting brush. His lips curling downwards into a frown, eyes narrowing when he sees you giggle into your palm.  Who the fuck are you talking to--

“I need you to go to the store for me!” Senju’s loud voice reminds Haruchiyo to keep his poker face back up, masking his true hidden intentions, the real reason why he came here.

No, he doesn’t care about bonding time with his sister, nor does he care for some goddamn pastries. What he does care about, is getting a taste of you, a glimmer of body underneath him, hear your moans as he fucks you slowly—or do you like it rough and hard? He can feel his cock twitch in his pants when you enter through the sliding doors, readjusting your bikini top straps over your shoulder. He doesn’t miss the way the strap exposed a little bit of your right boob from the movement. 

“Store? For what?” You don’t pay Haruchiyo anymind at all, and he doesn’t like it. Maybe because you know what he’s here for or maybe because you just don’t like him. The second option seems more appropriate—the first option would only suffice if you were a mind-reader or psychic (highly unlikely).

It’s safe to say that Haruchiyo isn’t the most approachable person. You initially tried to become his friend now that you were best friends with his sister, but he never showed you any mind. 

Maybe it’s because of the way you dressed? Looking back, three years ago, you weren’t the best dressed… only wearing baggy shirts and trousers to cover up because the boys at your school were complete total perverts. Senju understood, she even joined you in the baggy shirt gang club whatever stupid nickname you both called it.

It was dumb, you looked homeless at times, wearing clothes twice your size with no makeup done because who were you trying to impress? That’s probably the reason you think Haruchiyo doesn’t like you.

According to Haruchiyo’s sources—it was correct. He hated the way you dressed, because you reminded him of his god-awful sister. The two of you would wear the same hideously big clothes and it just looked awful. He hated it. He hated you. He hated his sister.

Hanging out with the Haitani’s (not willingly—it was more mandatory by Manjiro, to get along for the ‘gang’s sake’) altered his taste in women. Haruchiyo was never one to chase after a woman, like Ran’s sorry ass, or go on his knees and propose to a girl like Rindou’s desperate ass. 

But it was quite clearly obvious that the three of them lived very different lifestyles. Haruchiyo had a simple timetable to follow. Fight. Kill (sometimes). Eat. Sleep. Repeat. 

Boring lifestyle—sure. But he was satisfied. 

The Haitani’s, on the other hand. Go out. Party. Clubs. Sleep with a random chick from said club. Sleep (especially Ran). Simp (cough Rindou). Repeat. It was crazy, but they aren’t called the Rulers of Roppongi for no reason.

It was tiring at first, being out with them almost all day until Ran decided it was time for his slumber. But gradually, he started to enjoy it. He even found himself attending a club on his own once. After a lapdance from one girl and a bunch of hickies from another (at the same time), he then came to the realisation that he loves women. 

Loves them so, so much. 

So when he saw you, without that ridiculous outfit, for the first time. His dick twitched, and he knew what time it was. Sadly enough…the damage was already done. You hated his guts and you assumed he still hated yours after three years of slandering you along with his pain in the ass sister.

It was a bit hurtful, to hear those crude comments about your clothes.The only thing keeping you afloat was you knowing that you didn’t actually dress that way--only to keep all the boys staring another direction and not at your body. 

The second you graduated high school, you never wore those hideous outfits again. 

“Eggs. Like two more cartons, I think. No--no scratch that. One carton is fine.” Senju washes her hands under the sink, trying to get all the flour and batter off her hands so she can grab her wallet and give it to you.

“One box, okay…” You’re still on that stupid phone. Put the phone down. “The small box or big box?”

“No. Not box, carton! Don’t come back here with 40 eggs in a big box, we’re not a farm. And put the phone down!”

You sigh and turn off your phone. The click your phone made as the screen went black made Sanzu almost shed tear from sheer joy. He silently thanks Senju for that, because now he gets to see your pretty face not smiling down at whoever the fuck you’re texting.

“Okay! One carton. Six eggs or twelve?” You reach your hand out, grabbing Senju’s contactless card from her grasp. The second that card is in your hands, you’re already pulling your phone back out, distracted by another notification.

Sanzu can never win.

“Six. I’m almost done with these pastries. I’m gonna go pack now.” Senju hurries up the stairs, leaving the two of you alone in the kitchen. 

You can feel him staring at you, despite your eyes fixated on your phone. It’s getting a bit uncomfortable now, feeling his piercing green eyes burn holes into your skull, as if he’s waiting for you to say something. A puff of air escapes your nose as you look up at him, not noticing the way he flicks his gaze up from your chest to your eyes—trying to seem as respectable as possible.

“Do you want something from the store?” You don’t really care if he does or not--you just felt the need to say something to dispose of the awkward air in the room.

 “Nah.” He’s about to run a hand through his hair, only stopping halfway when he can feel the stickiness of the eggs practically glueing his fingers together. “I’ll just wait till you come back.”

“Yeah… speaking of. How long are you planning to stay here? Because Senju leaves for her trip in three hours.”

He shrugs from the sink. “Dunno. I’ll stay however long I want. I pay for this house.”

You make a noise of disagreement. “Actually, Omi does.”

Omi? Oh--his pain in the ass brother. “I own Takeomi, sweetheart.” 

You can’t help but cringe at the nickname. He’s getting way too comfortable for your own good. Sanzu dries his hands using a paper towel, then makes his way onto the couch. For some reason, your eyes follow him the entire time, even subconsciously walking over to the wall that divides the kitchen and the living room, leaning against it as you watch him kick his feet up onto the glass table in front of him. 

“You’re getting awfully cosy. You staying a while?”

However long it takes until I fuck you. 

“Yeah, think so.” 

There’s a thump on the couch next to him as you plop down, resting Senju’s card on the back of your phone case in your right hand. “Any reason for that?”

Sanzu literally cannot focus, cannot keep his eyes on your face—your pretty face. Not the way you’re body is on display like this. He thanks the world for a little something called peripheral vision, making side eye contact with your tits as he’s looking dead in your eye. 

Fuck, they look so pretty, even from the blurred angle. He wonders how they’d feel in his mouth. Are your nipples hard and perky? Or soft and supple? Wonders how they’d feel in his mouth, wonders how they’d feel pushed up against his cock. 

He’s never been tit-fucked before, but he can picture it now. You, on your knees in front of him as you press your tits  together, sliding them up and down his cock to milk hi cum. Fuck—would you lick the cum off your face, or would you let him cum on your tits. 

He has to calm down, he can literally feel himself getting harder as he loses himself in his thoughts. “Reason for what?”

“Reason for staying as long as you want?” You stop and shift so you’re facing him fully now, your arm resting along the back of the couch. 

This angle is even worse. Now he can see the curve of your body from top to bottom. 

“I mean,” he also shifts so he’s facing you fully, “I could say the same about you. After all, this is Senju’s house. You’re also a visitor.”

“But, I’m her friend .”

“And I’m her brother.” 

There’s something about the way he’s looking at you as he talks to you that has you wanting to rub your thighs together. But you know if you did, he’d catch on rather quickly. The last thing you’d want is for him to have something to taunt you with. 

Those three years were painful enough. 

You glare up at him, fingers tightening against your phone before standing up. “I’m going to change.”

Before he could even protest, he was forcefully silenced as he watched you walk away. The view from the back was even better than the front. “Fuck.” He whispers to himself before sinking back into the leather couch. 

He drags his eyes along his sweats, thanking his past self for choosing black sweats today instead of grey. What’s worse than having a boner in grey sweats is being caught having a boner in grey sweats. 

He’s managed to get rid of his boner by the time you’ve come down the stairs, dressing in a simple black hoodie and some matching joggers. 

He’s missing the sight of your body already. 

“Okay, I’m going now.”

The time it takes you to run to the store and back is enough time for Senju to finish packing her bags, asking her brother to help her carry it outside to her car while she takes the pastries out from the oven. Fresh and hot, she packed them in three big clear containers before shoving them inside a plastic bag. 

By the time you walk in through the door, the smell of fresh break and cookies make your mouth water. Then you frown, realising you went all that way for some eggs just for Senju to finish baking. “What the hell, Senju? What did I buy this for?”

“I’m sorry!! I read the timing wrong, I’m supposed to be there in an hour from now, and--” Sanzu places his hand on her shoulder, calming her down. 

“Relax. Go, take your pastries and have fun with your friends.”

He tries his hardest to sound as caring as possible—in actuality he just wants her out of the house now. He finds you’re much easier to break down and get under your skin when Senju isn’t around. This icy cold exterior you create only when she’s there. 

Typical. Acting big and bad in front of a friend, but crumble the moment they’ve left. 

He can’t wait to push your limits. 

You wave goodbye to Senju and lock the door behind you. Heading straight over to the kitchen, you empty the bag you got from the store, placing the eggs over by the side and taking out your packet of gummies you bought for yourself as a reward for going all that way for Senju. 

She wouldn’t mind if you bought a small treat for yourself. 

You decide to stay in the clothes you went out in, too lazy to go upstairs and change into your pyjamas when what you’re already wearing is comfortable. You manage to watch an entire season of your favourite show, munching on your gummy bears while guessing the flavour as you blindly chew them. A little game you came up with to keep yourself occupied. 

It’s not until it’s dark outside, the flickering lights outside by the pool illuminating to light up the backyard. You notice it’s been fairly quiet around the house—and that’s odd because you have a visitor. 

You haven’t seen him since Senju left, and that was-- you pick up your phone from where it was sitting next to your legs and turn it on to read the time--yeah, it’s been almost 8 hours since she left and there’s been no sign of him. 

That’s odd. 

The flicker from one of the bulbs outside catches your eye, reminding you it’s time to head upstairs. That light always creeps you out whenever you’re over here. Grabbing your blanket and your phone, you start to make your way up the stairs to Senju’s room. 

She allows you to sleep there whenever you’re staying over. Your roommates over at your house are too annoying to deal with, so you come over to hers to lay off steam. You weren’t expecting her older brother to be here though. 

Humming the theme song of the show you were watching, you reach the top of the staircase, only to bump into a hard figure. Your eyes were so fixated on the ground you didn’t notice Sanzu was actually on his way downstairs, preoccupied on his own phone. 

The reason you almost stumbled down the stairs wasn’t because of the contact, but instead the shiver tracing a slow line down the length of your spine as you stared up at him shirtless. The initial shock is what causes you to almost stumble down, but then he reaches out quickly, grabbing onto your wrist and pulling you back up to the top.

“Y’alright?” It’s a simple question that deserves a simple answer. It’s a shame your brain isn’t functioning at the moment, eyes too focused on the way the water from the shower he just took drips down his chest, tracing over the very faint lines of his abs. To be honest--you were not expecting this. He never seemed like the type to work out, a very lanky individual, but the physique he wears is almost perfect.

His body is nothing too flashy, yet you can already imagine placing your hands on his chest, running your fingers through the indents of his faint ab outline. The water drops just make it even hotter aswell—your dirty brain replaces that with the moisture coming from your tongue as you mark up his chest with kisses.

You shake your head. No, this is wrong. This is your best friend's brother, but he’s so hot— “No.”

“What?”

You snap your mouth shut, realising you spoke out loud. Sanzu looks down at you, a confused glimmer in his eye as he tightens his hold on your wrist, repeating his question. “I asked if you were alright.”

“Oh.” Yeah, m’alright. You forget to voice the words outloud, only realising you spoke in your head when Sanzu doesn’t let go of your wrist, actively seeking your answer. “Fuck--sorry I gotta go.” His grip on your wrist slips rather easily as you slide your body past his to get past the stairs, heading straight towards Senju’s room. 

Your body makes contact with the door as you lock it from behind you and slide down the door onto the floor. You fight the urge to scream into your hands. You’re a sick human being. Thinking about kissing your best friend’s brother’s chest? Do you have no shame?

It’s embarrassing. Senju’s been such a great person to you throughout your entire friendship, and to think this is how you repay her. You slide into her bed, hoping and praying that these thoughts were a one-time thing. When you wake up tomorrow, he will be ugly Sanzu again--the one that makes your blood boil just hearing his name, the one who’s so hideously attractive it makes your thighs rub together to stop that tingle from reaching your pussy.

That Sanzu .

Morning comes and you’re eager to go downstairs, hoping that your prayers have been answered. Sanzu would be back to being hideous and you could spend your week here in peace with 0 dirty thoughts. Easier said than done right?

He’s still shirtless. All morning. Afternoon too. And evening. 

This is getting ridiculous at this point. Like it is hot outside, but to be shirtless all fucking day? C’mon. He has to be doing this on purpose. He must’ve seen the way your brain short circuited last night on the staircase with just a glimpse of his chest that was even barely visible due to the darkness from the lack of lightbulbs in the hallway. 

He has to be doing this on purpose. 

You disregard everything your brain was convincing you not to do yesterday, and chose to walk around the next day in just a t-shirt and panties. Is this a little weird? Yes. Are you going to stop? No. You could feel his gaze on you—well on your ass and thighs, the t-shirt riding up your thighs with every movement you made, exposing more of your skin to him.

Sanzu couldn’t help but think you had beaten him at his own game. It’s no secret he did walk around shirtless to try and fluster you, but you managed to compose yourself. But him right now? Seeing you in just a tight shirt with straight up panties underneath—fuck they were black too. His weakness.

He can’t take it anymore. It’s only been a couple hours and he’s already giving up on the imaginary game you both created. 

“Turn around.” 

You pause your movements, hand frozen over the freezer door. Over the curve of your shoulder, you can see him standing behind you, wearing a shirt this time. It’s a shame honestly, but you’re not complaining. No more temptation.

“What do you want?” You choose to ignore him, bending down to the bottom shelf of the freezer to pull out a popsicle. It was extra hot today, you needed something cold to suck on. You know he’s staring at your shirt as it lifts up over your ass, exposing your panties on full display. You know the popsicles are in the top drawer--but that doesn’t stop you.

By the time you grab the one you wanted, you take a stand up and take a step back to close the freezer door only to walk right into his chest. You’re about to make a witty smark remark about how he needs to learn personal space, when he leans forward, his chest pressing against your back. The words die down in your throat as he practically pushes you up against the freezer. His hands slide down your body slowly, too slow for your liking. His fingers slide down to the hem of your shirt, lifting it up slightly before sliding his fingers up your stomach. You can’t breathe like this, breaths come out heavy as you try to focus on the feeling of his hands tracing onto your stomach. They leave your stomach, sliding down to your hips where he dips a finger underneath the fabric, lightly touching your skin with soft touches that have you burning up with heat. 

His fingers feel so… you can’t even describe it. It’s only a couple touches and you already feel your panties getting damper with every lingering touch he gives you. You throw your head back onto his shoulder as he begins to press kisses down your neck. From this angle, it’s a little uncomfortable having to strain your neck all the way back to give him more access--but it’s worth it. It’s so worth it. His soft lips feel 100x better than the simple touches of his fingers.

You swear the heat radiating off your body is enough to match the weather outside, you feel the packet of your popsicle start to drip as it starts melting.

You bite back a moan as his fingers slide down to your panties, about to press onto your clit before the heat suddenly disappears and it’s now you can feel the cold press of the popsicle packet digging into the skin of your fingers. Coming back to your senses, you lift your head back from his shoulder and open your eyes. You didn’t even realise you had closed them. Fucking Haruchiyo .

“Excuse me,” he says, opening the freezer door. You stand there, jaw dropped to the ground as you watch him pull out a packet of frozen peas from the drawer. 

“Are you—are you kidding me?” 

“What?” He asks almost like he’s genuinely confused as to why you’re reacting this way. 

“Why did you-- you kissed me!”

“I needed to get past the freezer.” He laughs, biting his bottom lip as he watches your whole world unravel and fall apart. It’s working. Ran’s advice is working. Get her needy and desperate for you, then she’ll come begging to you for more. He can see it in your eyes if your voice wasn’t enough evidence as is. The way it wavers ever so lightly, voice a tad bit higher than your normal pitch, the way your chest is still rising and falling faster than usual. This was so brilliant. 

“You don’t s-seduce people into moving out of the way, Sanzu.” 

The stutter? God, you were easier to break apart than he thought. “Yeah?” He steps closer to you, towering over you as he watches you try your best to keep a decent poker face on, meeting him head on with a stern expression, only to fail the moment his hands land on your hips. “Who said I was seducing you? That sounds like a you problem right there.”

Oh this fucker . You know exactly what he’s doing. He’s met his match alright, thinking he can play you, then get you to question whether or not your feelings are real or not from his actions.

“It’s not?” You alter your voice slightly, getting on your tiptoes to make your move—or better yet leave your mark. You brush your lips against his neck ever so slightly, feeling him tense up as the hot air from your nose tickled his skin. Holding the popsicle in one hand, you use the other to run your fingers through his long hair, kissing the smooth skin on his neck ever so lightly. Using the same feather light he kisses he littered all over your body.

Sanzu bit his lip, grip on your hips tightening as he felt your lips move across the sensitive skin on his neck with his ease. He almost moans when you kiss up to his jaw, tongue licking a stripe up his skin before tracing the length of his jawline with kisses. 

The moment you reached his chin, you pulled back slightly, looking him eye to eye as your lips practically brushed against his own. “Hi.” You whisper, dropping your eyes from his own down to his lips, those same ones that were on your body not that long ago.

His eyes scan over your face, lingering a little too long on your own lips. It makes you feel naked and vulnerable under his stare. It’s overwhelming, yet you find yourself leaning closer, and closer. Your lips touch, but it’s not a kiss. 

You almost have him. So close.

The moment he’s leaning forward, you’re pulling back, arms stretched out as you yawn loudly. “Fuck, I’m so tired.” 

You don’t even get the opportunity to walk away, leaving your plan ticked off with 100% completion, because his fingers are grabbing onto your chin, forcing you to face him as he presses his lips against your own.

In case you tried some slick shit again, he locks you in with a huge hand on your hip as he works his mouth against yours. You drop your popsicle, it lands on the floor with a squelch next to the frozen peas. 

The second it hit the floor, your hands were on him, grabbing onto his hair to scratch at his scalp as he kissed you feverishly. “Fuck…I’ve wanted this—f-for so long.” He pants against your lips, not even giving you a second to respond as his lips are back on your own in a heated makeout. 

Your response is faint whimpers and moans as he coaxes your mouth open with his tongue, licking and sucking his way into your greedy mouth. He has an iron grip on your hips as he lifts you up and off the ground, your legs immediately wrap around his waist for support.

You’re being placed onto the couch, back hitting the soft cushions as you scramble up on your elbows to watch as he strips his shirt off. You don’t get time to look at his chest properly this time when his hands wrap around your ankles, tugging you closer to him. You slide off your elbows, back onto your back as he’s hovering over you.

“I wanna get this done quickly--” he’s unbuckling his pants and you watch as he can’t even be bothered to pull them down all the way down and off his legs, reaching inside his back pocket to pull out a condom. “Wanna do the honours?”

You frown, puffing out your upper lip as you grab the condom from his hands, sitting upright as you pull his boxers down. His fingers find themselves on your face, cupping your cheek as he looks down at you, “Why’re poutin’?”

“Because…I expected—y’know…”

“I don’t know.”

You rub your thighs together and watch as his eyebrows raise. “Ah, I get it now.” He takes the condom from your hand, intertwining your fingers together as he pushes you back down onto your back. “You one of those, right?”

“One of what?”

“Foreplay bitches, always want to be carressed and shit, ‘m I right?”

Isn’t that the bare minimum..?? You slowly nod your head and watch him chuckle, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You’re cute Y/N. I’ve never done foreplay before, but I’ll try it, for you. Kay?”

“Okay…”

You let him kiss you again, and you can tell he’s genuinely trying this time, his lips feel more tender as they slide against yours. The hairs on his neck stand up when he hears the deep satisfied sigh you let out, hands climbing up his face to cup at his cheeks.

He has a hand sliding down your body to your panties, hooking a finger underneath, pulling back just as fast as it snaps against your skin. You squeal into the kiss, his tongue easily sliding in the moment your mouth opens.

You eagerly suck on his tongue as his fingers slide up your shirt, resting directly atop your boob. He pulls away with a satisfied smirk on his face, “No bra?”

“It’s hot.” You feel him squeeze your boob, moulding it in his hands as he half heartedly listens to what your excuse is. 

“If it’s that hot, you shoulda jus’ walked ‘round shirtless.” He’s sliding your shirt up and over, your arms lift up to allow him to fully remove it. “Fuck—knew you had nice tits.”

“I do?”

“Um, yah.” His chuckle is breathless, seeing you splayed out beneath him…so lewd,so sexy. Just like he’d pictured. Your breasts on full display,all for him. He latches and sucks on your nipple a bit too rough from what you’re used to, but you strangely like it. Liking the way his teeth scrape against your skin, the way his flicks your nipple with his tongue at a pace that shouldn’t even be possible. 

“Oh my god—haru..” You breathe, scowling when he laughs against your nipples. The hot air from his nostrils doing nothing but adding more sensation to your sensitive buds, muscles flexing causing your breast to twitch inside his mouth. 

He continues his ministrations, sliding a hand down past your panties, pressing up against your slit. You can feel him barely digging into your folds, only a light press, can feel the slick sticking to his finger as he drags his hand away from your cunt. You watch with open eyes as he puts it in his mouth---a taste test. 

Something changes inside him. He’s sitting up, dragging you along with him roughly. He’s positioning himself to lay down and you think you can tell what’s about to go down. 

“No.”

“Don’t be a pussy.” He grabs at your hips and pulls you towards him. There’s enough of a gap between your pussy and his face, sliding through that said gap so he’s looking directly up at your clothed pussy. 

“Sit on my face.”

“N-no.”

“Why not.” You gasp when he peels your panties aside, a soft gasp leaving his mouth when he sees just how wet you are. 

“I-it’s embarrassing ..”

He looks around the room dramatically, fingers still digging through your folds carelessly. “Nobody’s here but us princess, now--” He grabs your hips, ignoring your yelp in favour of tugging you flush against his face, “Fuck—that’s it.” 

He begins to eat you out, tongue sliding up and down your folds, loud moans leaving both your mouths; yours are almost sobs, the way he’s fucking into your cunt with his tongue, lips circling around your clit. 

“Fuck—you taste, s’good—s’amazin’ for me.”

“H-haru! Ohmy--“ you’re fighting the urge to rut your hips down, not wanting to suffocate him. Hell, he’d probably like that---the sick bastard. “Yes, yes yes.” You chant over and over again, shamelessly rutting your cunt harder onto his face, to get the feeling of his nose brushing against your clit. “Shit! I’m close—Haru—I’m--“

He moans as he feels your walls clench around his tongue, briefly pulling out to stuff a finger inside, moving at the same pace his tongue was. You moan out his name as you cum on his face, riding out your orgasm as he suctions around your clit, lapping up your juices from your cunt. 

“That was so hot.” He lifts you up and over him, resting you beneath him. He grabs the condom where it dropped on the couch and rips it open, rolling it down his length. He hooks his arms under your thighs to spread you out more, enjoying the view of you spread out, cunt wet and pulsating with the need to be filled. 

“Ready?”

“Yes. Put it in please--“

You scream when he slams himself inside with a simple thrust, his cock curving in all the right directions, tears pool in your eyes as you’re unable to adjust to the stretch of his cock. 

He doesn’t give you any time to prepare yourself, time was already ticking with all that foreplay. He needs to feel you cum around his cock now. His speed is fast, calculated, each slap of his hips against yours reaching directly into your cervix. 

You’re loud. Louder than you’ve ever been before. 

“God—so hot, think I’m gonna cum soon--“ his voice is strained as he fixes his gaze on his cock as it slides in and out of you. He’s holding your legs apart by the ankle, spreading you out in the way he seeks fit. 

You’re not prepared for when he suddenly pressed downwards, folding you in two as he continues his hard thrusts. The couch is shaking as you moan his name out, over and over, the power behind each thrust is harder than the last. 

His rhythm is getting sloppier, you can feel his cock twitching inside you that you know he’s close. What’s his next move--? Will he come inside you? Or pull out and cum on your face? He seems like the type to enjoy facials. 

“S-sanzu--“ you whimper when he looks down at you, “cum on me… please.” You don’t care where at this point--as long as it’s not inside. You’re not ready for that yet.

“Fuck,” he grunts, throwing his head back and repositioning his hips to slam harder into you. You grip onto the nearest cushion, grip so tight you swear you can rip the fabric off if you tried hard enough. “That’s it—cum around my cock, sexy.”

You can’t help it, body spazzing violently as you hide your face with the cushion, muffling out your moans as you cum on his cock. 

His movements still and he’s quick to pull out of you, ripping the condom off and tossing it somewhere across the room. His hands are fast, jerking himself off before he throws his head back, moaning quite loudly as he splashes ropes of cum on your chest, aiming for your nipples but some lands on your stomach. 

“Oh my god.” He watches with wide eyes and heavy breaths as you dip your fingers onto the pool of cum on your chest, scooping some up with two fingers, stuffing them into your mouth, moaning obscenely around your fingers as you suck the residue off.

“Next time,” you take another scoop, but instead of eating it, you play with it, stretching your fingers far apart to see how far it stretches before it eventually snaps, “next time cum inside me.”

“Next time?” He leans forward to kiss you, groaning a bit at the salty taste of his cum, but it fades away with the way you’re licking into his mouth. You hum and nod into the kiss, fingers sliding behind his back to leave scratch marks that have him shuddering.

 You break the kiss to bite at his bottom lip, “Yeah, next time.”

Sanzu thought this would be a one time thing—hit and dip—as the old saying goes. But seeing you there, looking up at him so deviously—he doesn’t think he can fuck another woman that’s not you again. 

[nebulaswife]

KEEPING WATCH

• NEBULA x READER • Summary: When Nebula is taken captive on the Guardians' ship, you, as well as Rocket and Groot, are tasked with keeping watch while the others go to Ego.

When the others leave for Ego's planet, someone has to stay behind. Rocket and Groot are a no-brainer, but you volunteer as well. It surprises Quill when you tell him you're staying, but you reason that you're more needed here than you are with them. You don't feel right leaving Groot, as young as he is and as attached as you are to him, and that reasoning seems to satisfy Quill, but it's not the whole story.

Gamora's sister intrigues you more than you'd care to let on.

So they leave, and you watch them go, hands on your hips as the large egg-like spaceship grows smaller and smaller in the distance until you can't see it anymore. From behind you, you can hear Rocket trying to explain in the simplest terms every step of the repairs he's making to a tiny Groot who clearly doesn't understand a single bit of it judging by the questions he's asking. Rocket's patience toward him has always amazed you, considering the way he treats everyone else.

Scanning the edge of the clearing until you're satisfied there's nothing to worry about, you turn to face the opening of the broken-down ship. Rocket leads Groot farther into the ship and out of sight, leaving you and Nebula alone, her arms shackled to the ceiling. She's staring off into the woods until she feels your gaze on her, and as she turns two pitch black eyes your way with a glare that feels like it would kill you where you stood if it could, you swallow dryly and try to resist the urge to look away.

She watches you walk toward her, various twigs and leaves crunching underneath your feet before turning into the cold clang of boots on metal.

"I'm hungry," she finally speaks, short and to the point, that glare still heavy on her brow. "Are you hoping to starve me to death before you're able to collect the bounty on my head?"

This question confuses you considering this is the first time the two of you have really spoken, but once you take into account the likeliness of nobody else having been willing to feed her, it makes more sense.

Without a word, you walk past her, causing her to grunt in a mixture of exasperation and irritation. Who does she have to kill to get something to eat around here? Apparently everyone.

You return a moment later with a banana, peeling it enough to give Nebula access to it before reaching out to Nebula's good hand. Even shackled, this was something she could eat by herself. Very slight surprise etched her features at the sight of you offering her something to eat. Slowly, she took the banana.

"It's from Earth," you explain, stepping back to give her some space. "Or, uh, Terra, I guess. It's my favorite fruit, so I picked some up on our last visit."

Inwardly, you cringe. Who cares what your favorite fruit is? That's not a needed part of the explanation.

Nebula only stares at you for an uncomfortable amount of time, and you're tempted to apologize for even saying anything, but you decide to dig your own grave even further, apparently.

"I know it's not really a meal, but I'm not really the greatest cook, so trust me when I say I'm doing you a bigger favor by not subjecting you to that."

Nebula arches a brow. "Thank you for letting me eat a single banana while I remain cuffed to the ceiling of your ship."

Shit.

"That's fair," you respond, looking away, back out to the edge of the clearing. A few seconds of silence pass as Nebula eats the food and you try to will away the pink tinge to your cheeks.

"... Thank you," Nebula says again, but it's more sincere this time. When you look her way, she isn't looking back, instead focusing on an exposed patch of wires on the opposite wall of the ship. You notice the only thing left of the banana is the peel, so you step forward, flinching slightly as Nebula's head snaps your way to watch your approach with fierce and distrusting caution.

You raise your hands in a manner that hopefully conveys that you come in peace. "Just coming to take the peel. You're not supposed to eat that part."

"Oh."

She doesn't speak again, but her shoulders relax slightly and she looks away again, so you take that as a sign that you can continue your approach. Your fingers brush against hers as you take the peel. Eyes moving to meet Nebula's, you see that she's looking at you out of the corner of her eye. For a second, you remain there, seeing something in those eyes that makes you want to know her. She's done so much bad, but that's not all you see in her. Or maybe that's not all you want to see in her.

You open your mouth to speak again when the sound of Rocket's voice, loud and exasperated, rings loudly throughout the ship.

"No, the other wire! Agh, forget it! I'm gonna go set up some traps around the perimeter; you stay here!"

Footsteps approach and you quickly step back a step, two, three, banana peel in hand. Rocket comes into view, not even sparing a glance in you or Nebula's direction as he exits the ship.

"Y/N, keep an eye on Groot, will ya? Kid's gonna blow us all up."

"Sure, yeah," you respond, swallowing dryly as you glance back at Nebula. She's still staring at you. Not glaring. Just staring, like she's trying to figure something out.

With that, you excuse yourself to go find Groot.

______________________________________________________________

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'm not sure how I feel about this one, but it's a start, at least. Hopefully someone gets some enjoyment out of it other than me.