#hes confused most of the time...very blunt

[papercorgiworld]

Outsmarted

Tom Riddle x prefect!reader

You catch Tom wandering the hallways at night and give him detention, but your actions have him obsessing over you. When he spots you at a party with someone else Tom does a very Tom Riddle thing to solve the matter.

Warning: none

It was this request that encouraged me to write another Tom fic and I started it, but struggled to finish. Anyways, I did after a freaking long time. The song night shift is more of a breakup song, but I just went with the vibe of the song and focussed on the bit about kissing someone and it feeling wrong.

You always stuck to your regular patrol, but life as prefect was getting really boring and this night especially you were feeling courageous so you actively walked around Hogwarts. You sigh and are about to turn on your heels when you spot something. It was so swift and dark that you almost mistook it for a shadow, but it was your gut that told you it was someone. “Stop there and reveal yourself.” You demand with your voice firm, but also trembling in fear of who or what you had just caught past midnight.

Your demand is answered by an annoyed sigh and then slow steps moving your way until his figure is fully revealed in the light of your lumos. “Tom?” You blur out surprised to find slytherin’s most flawless, but also dubious student in front of you… caught breaking the rules. Tom raises his eyebrows at your blunt use of his first name and also the questioning tone of your voice. As far as scary prefects go you had failed.

As Tom curiously takes in your every detail, you search somewhat clumsily for your notebook. “I’m writing you up for breaking Hogwarts’ nighttime schedule.” At your words a pompous smile makes its way to Tom’s lips. “There’s no need for that.” The ink has almost touched the paper, but his words make you look up at him. Your confused eyes make Tom give you a soft smile. “I’m sure you’ll find that I can be very persuasive… especially to an innocent mind as yours.” Not impressed by who he was and what his last name meant, those last words have no effect on you and to the slytherin’s surprise your eyes drop back to your notebook. You start to scribble in your little notebook, not paying mind to him at all. Confusing him by your lack of interest in him or what he has to say.

“You shouldn’t report me, I had grounded reasons to be outside. I was out studying late.” He utters urgently, hoping to stop your writing. However, as serious as Tom’s excuse was, you were used to other students sneaking around like his younger brother and his friends so you immediately assumed something different. “Studying somebody’s anatomy right?” You mock with your eyebrows suggestively wiggling  and Tom frowns, confused, not understanding the reference immediately.

“I wasn’t having sex if that’s what you’re implying.” He shamelessly blurts and you’re taken aback by his bluntness, but your mind is quick. “So what were you studying then that you had to do so past midnight and in secret?” You ask and lift your quill from the page, studying him. He’s definitely surprised by your question. You were getting more interesting as he now had to admit that he said too much. “On second thought, I was with someone. Definitely having sex.” A soft chuckle rolls over your lips and he can’t help but notice your gentle beauty. You meet his eyes intrigued by what he really had been doing, but you snap out of it almost immediately.

“That will cost you 30 house points and two weeks detention.” It had been a while since Tom had felt so insulted, he almost felt belittled that some ordinary prefect was giving him detention and taking points. “What? That’s outrageous!” He takes a step towards you but you aren’t impressed and just flipped a page in your notebook where all the rules are listed. “No, it's a standard procedure for walking around the castle at this hour. I’ll also have to notify Mcgonagall. Standard procedure.”

“Whatever. I wouldn’t know. I’ve never been caught before.” You close your book and cross your arms. How often does he walk around at night? When Tom notices your eyebrows knit together he rolls his eyes. This is the second time today that I’m saying more than I should. This has to be the most annoying prefect there is. You huff and smile at him with confidence. “And prepare to get caught more often, since I’ll be walking these halls for the coming year.” Tom forces a smile and raises his eyebrows. “Delightfull.”

You smile and shake your head at his tone. “Now straight to your common room. If you are spotted again, you violate the direct authority of a prefect and you have to see the headmaster.” You explain and Tom has to refrain himself from saying anything snappy. He raises his eyebrows and turns around. “Let’s avoid that at all costs shall we.” The sass and venom in his voice has you narrow your eyes at him as he starts walking in the direction of his common room.

Tom can feel your eyes burning into his back and a smirk creeps up on his lips. “I always intended to go there, before you showed up of course, so don’t worry I’ll not stray from my path.”

“Good.” You call after him, wanting the last word in the matter. There was something so smug about how he said everything. 

***

“Detention? You got detention?” Tom rolled his eyes at his brother’s annoying amusement. Salazar, Mattheo can you at least pretend like you aren’t enjoying it this much. Tom’s dark eyes shoot up to Mattheo who tries but fails to hide his smile. “Never thought I would see the day.” Mattheo says, taking the chair opposite of Tom. Really, he’s sitting down for this. Unbelievable. “Neither did I.” Tom dryly states, returning his gaze to his book. “So who outsmarted you?” The younger Riddle bluntly asks, loving how his brother’s entire aura changes at the word ‘outsmarted’. “I wasn’t outsmarted.” Tom snaps with a dark and agitated voice. “Yes, you were.” Mattheo sings. “Was not.” Tom sneers, before noticing how Mattheo had dragged him into a silly argument. Tom sighs and regains his normally calm composure. “It doesn’t matter, I’ll have my revenge.” His brother chuckles. “Oh, I don’t doubt that.”

***

The week had passed without any incidents and you hadn’t seen Tom at all. Which wasn’t that special. It wasn’t like the two of you saw each other often before the events of that one particular night, but you couldn't help but search for his face so once in a while. There was something intriguing about him and as much as you hated it, a curiosity for him had taken root in your mind. However, there was a Gryffindor party tonight and your plan was to have fun and not even think about Tom Riddle once. 

Tom on the other hand had a different plan. He had observed you carefully without being noticed and his desire for revenge had turned into a desire to have you. He hadn’t seen it coming at all, but suddenly you had a grip on him and now he found himself scanning drinks at some lame Gryffindor party. After several seconds of staring at bottles of booze he finally picks one and pours himself a cup. “You are terribly lost, brother.” Tom rolls his eyes as Mattheo’s voice rings in his ears. “I thought I would try your lifestyle for once. Shitty parties and even shittier drinks.” Tom turns to face his brother and fakes a smile. “Seriously, what brings you here?” Mattheo asks, lifting his chin in curiosity with his brother. Tom is about to remind his brother that nothing he does is any of his business but just then you come into view. Mattheo looks to check what had made his usually so snappy brother fall silent. “You’re never one to gawk, but hey I get why.” Mattheo states as he sees that his brother has his eyes set on you and Tom instantly meets his brother’s eyes with an agitated look. “I don’t gawk.” 

Mattheo snickers and Tom gives him a dark scowl that would have anyone running except for his brother. “Must be embarrassing.” Mattheo states with a taunting tone and Tom ignores him, but this doesn’t take away his brother’s amusement. “You’re just an ordinary mortal after all, capable of falling in love.” Tom stares at you laughing with your friends. Salazar, he hated it when his brother was right. He was falling in love with you and he had only spoken to you once. “Do you think I should go talk to her?” Mattheo is as surprised by the question itself as by the fact that his brother is actually asking him for advice. Mattheo looks at his drink. “You sure aren’t going to win her over by staring at her. Might get a stalking complaint.” Tom lets his head and eyes fall to the side to give his younger brother an annoyed glance, before actually walking over to you leaving a surprised Mattheo behind.

“Ah for once not roaming the halls as prefect.” Tom states with a direct voice and piercing eyes, but also a gentle and captivating smile. Though he still had that demeaning and chill vibe, the obvious attempt at starting a conversation was charming. “No prefect duties tonight. So if you plan to do anything twisted and mysterious tonight is your night, because I’ll be drinking.” You raise your nearly empty glass a little and meet his eyes with your playful ones. “As it happens I have taken a night off from doing twisted and mysterious things and I too will be drinking.” He raises his glass as well and quickly picks up on your nearly empty one. “I think we should get you a refill.” You’re surprised by his friendly and flirty behaviour, but go along with it, intrigued by the man. You spent some time talking at the table refilling your drinks, but your friends call you away and Tom himself becomes occupied with some Slytherins from families loyal to his father and eager to kiss ass. 

Being separated from you for a while has Tom’s eyes eagerly searching for you among the dancing students. When he spots you his stomach turns. Some guy is whispering in your ear and Tom has already made up his mind to interrupt whatever is going on when you are led outside by this guy. “Dean, where are you taking me?” You laugh, slightly tipsy as Dean gives you a playful smile and continues to lead you away from the party. Tom is in quick pursuit of the two of you and overhears your giggling. Finally outside Dean pulls you against him with one hard tug. “I thought we could use a moment to ourselves.” Dean whispers eyes seductively moving to your lips. “You think?” You giggle, teasing the guy as his nose brushes yours.

Tom was raging on the inside, boiling with disgust for what was happening. As his brother had said Tom's fascination with you had proven that he was capable of love but this didn’t mean that you or anyone for that matter was capable of loving him, Voldemort’s firstborn. A crippling sadness squeezes his heart and grips at his lungs. Meanwhile you feel unhappy with the situation as well. Curiosity had led you here, but in all fairness after your little chat with Tom you had hoped to find him again and see if he would take you for a moment alone. Yet Dean was here and Tom was not, and you weren’t going to let a good looking guy like Dean pass just because you were intrigued by the mysterious Tom Riddle who might or might not make a move. 

Dean kisses you and as soon as your lips meet you know that this isn’t what you want, but before you even have a chance to push him away he stiffens and falls to the floor with a hard tut. You immediately get to your knees to check on him. Your heart’s racing and only calms when you know he’s still breathing. It’s then that you notice someone standing next to the both of you, leaning slightly to observe the paralysed guy on the ground. Your eyes move to see that it’s Tom and you look back at Dean, back to Tom and back to Dean. It only takes you a few seconds to accuse Tom. “Did you hex him?” You get up and look sternly at a very calm looking Tom. “You’re awfully quick to draw conclusions and accuse me of hexing someone… but yes I did.” Your mouth drops and you don’t know if you should yell, run or get your wand, but Tom’s gentle tone convinces you to stay calm. 

“You shouldn’t be kissing him.” Tom states like he knows something you don’t. Your eyebrows knit together. “Why not?” You demand with a serious tone, like you were expecting a reasonable explanation from Tom. “Because I don’t like it.” Your lips part but no sound comes, since you are absolutely speechless. Tom stares at the guy on the floor with uninterested eyes while casually shoving his hands in his pockets. “Were you jealous?” You suddenly ask, not really believing it possible but also finding no other explanation for the situation. There’s a silence as Tom meets your eyes. You drown in his eyes and feel drawn to him. “Yes, you could call it that.” At those words you stop drowning and stare at him instead. Tom snorts softly, unable to hide his amusement with your baffled expression. He calmly steps over Dean's paralyzed body to stand before you, barely an inch between you two. Your heart is racing, but for some reason your mind and body go numb. A smirk tugs on Tom’s lips, but his eyes show a sadness that you cannot place.

“Good night, miss (l/n).” Tom says with a low voice, before placing a soft and endearing kiss on your cheek. As the sound of his steps fade into the distant hallways your fingers gently brush the cheek that had just received a kiss. 

In his room Tom sighs deeply as he loosens his tie. He found it so annoying but he had to admit that in a way you had outsmarted him again, because instead of revenge all he wanted was you. 

Word count: 2443

Thanks for reading and know that feedback is always welcome!

#slytherin #slytherin boys #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle #papercorgiworldwritings

[oaksapling]

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 durge #changed his horns he is...so perfect #im obsessed w him actually he is my babygirl #durge is fun to play too i like playing ilya but being a little unhinged is fun #im actually like...thinking the choices through a lot this time trying to figure him out...ilya is easy but fortune is different for me #hes confused most of the time...very blunt #doesnt hate or love the urges tbh just wants to understand them. questions his choices more than anything #rather than being upset or celebrating it. nothing he does strikes him as particularly evil or good #he is...indifferent i suppose to his own actions...LEANING towards enjoying it in the moment i guess #he's got kind of a one track mind though no time to help other people gotta figure out why kicking that squirrel felt so good

[cyberjam]

ATSV HEADCANON: they get jealous . . . ☆

warnings - mainly just fluff, maybe a hint of yandere if you squint, insecurities, gender neutral reader, no use of y/n or reader and jealousy from our fave spiders.

word count - 2.4k

main masterlist <33 | proof read?: yes.

based off of this request: jealous hc !!

. . . ☆ miles morals!e-1610

He'll try and ignore the nasty feeling of jealousy but it's tough when all he can think about is how joyous you look spending time with another guy that isn't him.

It slowly eats away at him the more time you two spend away from each other, and sooner or later you'd notice the change in his demeanor. He was quieter, his greetings weren't the same, and his energy constantly seemed low. Every time you said something he'd reply with a simple hum of acknowledgment and if you were trying to cheer him up with a corny joke the only thing you'd receive was a faulty breath from his lips and a lopsided grin.

His hugs weren't bone-crushing anymore, his texts were in one-words, and even when you two shared a class he acted different. Instead of the usual passing notes and quiet laughter at inside jokes, he simply turned his body towards the window and stayed quiet. He didn't spare a single glance in your direction until the bell rang. Even then he didn't look at you, blankly staring at the floor while gathering his things and blearily walking out with slouched shoulders.

So many confusing thoughts and hurt feelings from made-up scenarios circled around his brain. He wanted to talk to you so badly and just make sure everything was okay. He just didn't know how to approach it, so it continued to eat at him until you confronted him about it.

You saw him walking his usual route towards his place and couldn't help but chase him down. You constantly pestered him and asked him questions to get to the root of the problem but all he did was respond with simple phrases like "I'm fine.", "M' just tired.", and "Nah, I'm good."

Your dedication and unwillingness to let him go home angry finally paid off when he snapped. His words jumbling and his hands flailing in the air as he unleashed every thought and feeling that led to that moment.

Once he finished his rant, you two stood across from each other in complete silence. His chest lifted up and down as if he was exhausted. No words could come to your mouth, but your legs moved without hesitation and before you knew it your arms engulfed him in a tight hug. You felt bad for not being able to express how you felt in words but all miles needed was reassurance and your arms being wrapped around him was more than enough.

. . . ☆ miles morales! e-42

Miles is very straight-forward and blunt. He speaks his mind, which can be a blessing and a curse. With his over-protective nature and blank-like expressions he's more intimidating than most, especially when confronting people he thinks are getting too chummy with you. If a guy is checking you out, miles will speak up before you even notice. "ay, you got a starin' problem or sum?" in situations like these he tends to get touchier with you. Either resting a hand on your hip or hanging his arm over your shoulders and pulling you into his side.

Miles has a certain phrase that he says whenever you scold him for being so confrontational. "They gon have to get through me to get to you." and he tends to stand on that word.

Miles isn't shy of confronting people, or even using violence when it comes down to it. He prefers to handle situations like these with as least violence as possible. He doesn't want to subject you to that kind of thing, if anything he wants to keep you away from it. It's why he's so protective of you and also why you don't know he's the prowler.

You were walking home late at night all by yourself, and as much as you wanted miles to be there with you, he couldn't. You texted him letting him know you'd be staying late after school because of a project. He mentioned how he wouldn't want you walking home by yourself, especially so late at night. So, he decided he'd drive you back home on his motorcycle.

But when the time came for him to pick you up, you were left stranded. He never returned your countless calls or text messages which led into you walking back home all by yourself. Uncomfortable would be an understatement to describe the way you felt as you whisked your way passed sketchy groups of people with your head down. You took shortcuts and turned into ally's to get away from any potential threats not knowing you'd walk right into the hands of one.

A tall lanky man with sunken eyes somehow cornered you in-between the brick wall of a random apartment complex. You were terrified. Your legs grew weak, and your nose started to sting in warning of the incoming tears. All you could do was push your body as far as you possibly could into the wall behind you. Desperately hoping it would engulf you and take you as far away as possible from the situation.

You shut your eyes, bracing for whatever torturous impact to come. Fortunately, it never did. Instead you felt a swift gust of wind past you and the sound of a hard thud paired with a low groan. You cracked your eyes open only to see the mask of the most-feared vigilante in New York. He walked closer and closer until he was finally hovering over you, his mask nearly touching your nose.

As you stood frozen in shock, a clawed hand rested next to your face. "What I say? They gotta get through me to get to you."

. . . ☆ gwen stacy

Gwen is a liar. You can ask her if she's jealous and she'd respond with a scoff and wobbly smirk, scratching the side of her head before replying with something along the lines of "Jealous? No, way." when in reality she's seething. She wants to be completely secure and unbothered like Hobie, but there's always this nagging voice in the back of her head that fills her with annoyance and bitterness.

When someone shows any type of romantic interest in you she'll get tense and her cool facade will be replaced by her visible discomfort. She knows you love her and is continuously reminded when you shut down any confessions, but that painful uneasiness still comes no matter what.

Depending on what mood she's in that day she'll either tense up and shy away from the situation or desperately try to avert your attention back to her.

When one of your classmates walks up to you complimenting you and eyeing you up and down, Gwen's hand that was loosely holding yours fell to her side before returning to her jacket pocket. Her shoulders squared to her ears as she quietly sighed and rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet. She avoided eye-contact with you and the person, choosing to look around the hallway as if she wasn't eaves-dropping into the conversation. (she was)

Once the person leaves she'll grab your hand and start pulling you towards the exit "that was weird, right?" she'd murmured half-jokingly while nudging her shoulder with yours.

The next time you and that person interact is when Gwen is over your place. Once you excuse yourself from the conversation and take the call from your classmate, Gwen once again gets antsy. But she's much more combative this time around. She'll snatch her drumsticks up and start tapping on any and all surfaces she can reach. Calling out your name to get your attention so you can focus on her instead of your classmate.

All in all it really depends on what mood you catch her in. She can either be awkward and tense or combative and loud. At the end of the day all she wants is your attention.

. . . ☆ pavitr prabhakar

Pavitr is quite secure in himself and in the relationship, but he does get jealous on occasion. Never from a situation of you simply getting hit on or someone complimenting you, more so from his own insecurities and made-up scenarios that he plays in his head.

He enjoys the time you two have together fully enveloped in each others presence. So, when that time gets interrupted by someone he gets sulky. Time is already very limited for pavitr. With school and his spider duties on top of it he doesn't have as much time to spend with you as he wants. So once he gets you alone he doesn't want a single distraction to interrupt your private time.

A part of him feels guilty that he isn't able to spend much time with you. He has a small insecurity that pops up every now and then, telling himself that you deserve someone who's more attentive and available to your needs. He wants to be that man for you but his responsibilities prevent him from doing so.

You've already mentioned to Pav that you understand he's a busy man with a hefty schedule, so any time you two spend together is valued and cherished. It makes him happy that you're so forgiving and transparent but that doesn't stop the self-shaming thoughts of how bad of a boyfriend he sometimes thinks he is.

Pavitr has a habit of getting you gifts. When his guilty conscience is eating at him for missing out on a romantic date or simple hangout, he tends to buy you more gifts than usual. A single rose will turn into a bouquet, A cute hand-beaded bracelet will turn into a full jewelry set, a bedazzled headband will turn into multiple hair scrunchies and a full pack of hair care.

Once you've noticed this habit you were quick to shut it down, you didn't want him spending money every time he felt bad for having to bail and do his spider duties.

All he needs is to be pampered and reminded that what you want is him, and only him. Tell him how much you adore him and smuggle him in affection. Whether it be words of affirmation, quality time, or physical touch, Pavitr will immediately be putty in your hands. Just being engulfed by you and having you dote on him will immediately wash away any and all bad thoughts.

. . . ☆ hobie brown

Hobie doesn't really get jealous. He's extremely secure in himself and the relationship. If you're the type of person who likes to flirt for fun or is just naturally flirty, he wouldn't even bat an eye at you coyly chatting with another person.

Hobie knows you only have eyes for him so he never gets defensive or jealous by your coquettish attitude with others. You know where home is and at the end of the day you always return. But that's only with flirting. If you tend to get touchy or make-out with other people then he would get annoyed and slightly agitated. Especially if you'd established there was something between you two.

He wouldn't particularly mind other people flirting with you unless someone was genuinely being creepy and overbearing. He wouldn't want you to be uncomfortable for any reason in any situation. So, seeing you nervously fiddle with your hands or curl into yourself when certain advances were made would enrage him to an extent. These are the times Hobie will take on a more defensive/protective role.

He doesn't get into many brawls (mainly because he doesn't have to) He's quite intimidating so when he tells someone to back down they're gonna back down, quickly and efficiently. If anyone had the balls to step to Hobie in a threatening way they'd def be met with more than they could handle.

But in most situations Hobie usually just plays along with the flirting. He knows you're a good piece of eye-candy so it's not surprising to him whenever you get hit on. His chest also can't help but swell in pride when you mention that you have a partner, who just so happens to be Hobie.

Imagine you're both at the pub. Sitting at the bar, and leaning into each other with lovesick smiles. The sweet exchange of teasing words was interrupted by the gruff voice of the bartender setting down an alcoholic drink you weren't really familiar with. "Compliments from the gentleman over there." he murmured, tilting his head towards a man who sat across the bar. Before you could even fully react Hobie grabbed the glass and downed it within seconds. "Cheers, mate." he responded with a smile while lifting the glass in the air.

You just grow to love and laugh at his antics.

. . . ☆ miguel o'hara

You'll know he's jealous. Miguel is very obvious when he's bothered by something, even when he tries to hide it.

His movements are more stiff than usual and if you're close enough you can hear him lowly spitting profanities in his native tongue. Not to mention when he gets jealous to the point he's genuinely angry his claws will shoot out. There are multiple claw marks on couches and different desks at the headquarters that have yet to be fixed.

He angry pouts but he doesn't really know it. Whenever you're having a conversation with someone and it's prolonged for a little too long or the person you're speaking to is showing some type of interest in you, Miguel will just tower over you from behind with crossed arms and an annoyed look. as he stares the person down.

You're the most important thing in Miguel's life. He's already lost so much in different lifetimes and a part of him feels like he should live his life alone, suffering without a family or a lover simply because he feels like he doesn't deserve it, he doesn't deserve you.

There will be times where he tries to push you away, a part of him feels like if he pushes you away enough and tries to emotionally disconnect from the relationship you leaving him won't hurt as much. You have to be patient and reassure him that you're not going anywhere. The only reason he does stuff like that is because a small part of him genuinely believes you'll leave him at some point.

He tends to be overbearing when he gets jealous. Pushing you behind him when someone starts to be a bit suggestive, staring down anyone who he thinks is getting too comfortable with you, and butting in convos to speak for you when he's close to going over the edge.

Miguel can be overprotective and extremely overbearing at times, but it's always because he has your best interest in mind. He needs you in his life and to keep you he will deflect any and all threats that try and take you away.

A/N🪷: whenever i think of e-42 miles the killmonger music starts playing in my head lol

this was also a little rushed because i've been busy with work and im a little sleep-deprived, BUT i will come back with another fic soon <3 ty lovelies :)

likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated <33

#earth 42 miles morales x reader #miles morales x reader #miles morales headcanons #prowler miles #atsv gwen #gwen x reader #pavitr prabhakar x reader #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown headcanons #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara headcanons #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderverse headcanon #spider man: across the spider verse #atsv headcanons

[alatusprinz]

asking genshin boys "what are we?"

characters : tighnari , cyno , kaedehara kazuha , scaramouche

genre : fluff

scenario : reader asks them "what are we?" when they had automatically assumed you were aware of their feelings towards you

trigger warning : none except everyone here being short, i hope

tighnari

before you even asked the question, tighnari had a bad suspicious feeling about you today

he lightly sighed while looking over some of his leftover paperwork

even during his "office hours", he couldn't help but notice the "sneaky" glances and pretty much everything he's ever known about nervous body language from you

"you ask the most intriguing questions whenever you're fidgeting like that. tell me, what is it?" he couldn't help the sarcastic tone even if he tried

but his half-joking tone helped you relax, tighnari seemed to have talent at naturally calming you down

okay, here goes nothing.

"what are we, tighnari?" you finally managed to ask him

he answered with absolutely no hesitation immediately

"you? a human if my memory serves. as for me, i happen to be a fennec fox hybrid."

"... tighnari..."

stops writing at your tone- that didn't sound like you were joking

you were being serious? no way...

tighnari looked straight into your eyes, expression conflicted

he furrowed his brows and kept eye contact to see if you were pranking him or something

"...you're joking right?" he asked, half hopeful that he wasn't the one jumping into conclusions here

"...no"

he looked speechless, but then he let out a sigh

"enlighten me on what exactly makes you confused on what our relationship is?" he was sure he made it crystal clear

"we... i don't know, i can't tell. that's why i'm asking you" disbelief was written all over his face at your answer

"i held your hand."

"you did."

"i hugged you before."

"yes?"

"...i gave you flowers i grew myself on numerous occasions."

"yes, i'm keeping them as a bookmark like you suggested."

tighnari's scowl deepened, trying his hardest not to look lowkey offended that you were still confused after all that

how could you even not know, everyone knew from the forest rangers crew so why didn't you?

never mind, you clearly needed confirmation

"... i believe i have romantic feelings for you and just until now i was under the impression that you were aware." your eyes widened at tighnari's blunt words

you noticed the pink flush in his cheeks when he finally had to admit

"geez, want me spell it out for you? need a contract or something?" despite his complaint, tighnari felt content with the way your expression showed clear signs of happiness

how could you not fall even deeper for him, when he looked that adorable with rosy cheeks and slightly downturned ears?

approaches you from his desk and sits next to you

places his hand on yours, lightly squeezing them

"well, how about you then? what am i to you?"

cyno ( general mahamatra )

cyno's face remains emotionless most of the times, everyone who ever met him would agree in a heartbeat

he also had this habit of keeping very, very unwavering eye contact on whoever he was talking to

you've heard many of his subordinates mention how scary and intimidating it was to face his stone-cold stare

and to your absolute horror, he looked the same as ever when you nervously asked something that's been on your mind for days and weeks now

"what are we, cyno?"

"..." almost as if frozen, cyno stayed silent and merely stared at you like he did every day

oh no, this was definitely not the reaction you were ready for

his gaze seemed a bit too heavy on you, especially with how his scarlet eyes were emphasized by the comforting darkness of midnight surrounding you

"i mean- what i meant was-" before you could finish your sentence, he blurted out, loud and clear

"are we not already dating?"

a painful silence followed

it was your turn to freeze now

already dating...? but...

"no?" you blurted out before you could control it

your heart dropped at cyno's normally stoic face clearly flashed signs of sadness

"wait no i mean- but you didn't... ask me out" you barely managed to ask

cyno blinked once, then twice

then finally for the first time, you saw the general mahamatra ever avoid your gaze and cough in a bashful manner

he awkwardly scratched his neck and looked away from you

were you imagining things, or does he look... super nervous right now?

your eyes nearly fell out of your socket, he looks so adorable...??

"i... thought you already knew, i apologize."

finally after a while, cyno fixated his gaze on you again and regained his posture

"i like you, (name). i'd like to date you... if you share my feelings."

god, he really is the prettiest boy, isn't he?

kaedehara kazuha

the moment you mentioned that you wanted to talk, kazuha gently holds your hand and stares lovingly with a soft smile on his face

"of course, love."

it wouldn't matter where he was or what he was doing, he'd always make time for you. always.

when he led you to a place where you could have privacy, your heart fluttered at how his hand never left yours

when you two were alone, kazuha turned at you

nods and looks at you with the most adorable look in his eyes

"yes, what is it, love?"

he didn't look... like this with others right?

"kazuha... what are... we?" you finally gained the courage to ask him

not surprised in the slightest at the question and finally connecting the dots as to why you looked so nervous

smiles and looks at you like you brought the moon to him

and to him, you did.

you brought the entire galaxy, staining, painting his world with the most beautiful of all colors he could've never imagined

which is why he feels slightly guilty that he's left you in the dark about his feelings

"what was my nickname for you, i wonder?" he smiled adorably

"...love?"

"yes, dear?"

you felt your cheeks flush at the unexpected answer, kazuha's soft giggle making your heart skip a beat

"i'm sorry for leaving it unclear." kazuha laces his fingers with yours

you stared into his eyes, unable to control the slight flush in your cheeks

kazuha couldn't stop smiling, just how beautiful and lovable were you? <3

with a soft giggle, kazuha placed a fleeting kiss on your hand

then another one on your forehead

"i'm yours as you are mine, love. if you'll have me."

scaramouche ( kunikuzushi )

"kuni... what exactly are we?"

"huh?"

he was sure he misheard that

he must have misheard that, right? tell him he's right and it was just a prank

outright glares at you when you stay quiet, looking at him all expectedly like you wanted an answer

god, stop looking at him like that... you look too cute it makes him feel all weird and warm inside, stop it-

of course you wanted an answer, everything with scara confused you the more you spent time with him

you were positive friends didn't act like... this

... but he also never confessed or anything of the sort

"you're telling me you're..."

realizes that you're serious, his face flushing in embarrassment and frustration

"god, how dense are you?" he sounded so disappointed, the tone of his voice irked you

"hey, you can't blame me for wanting disclosure, it's confusing!"

"how don't you know? you're doing this on purpose, aren't you?"

"what am i supposed to know? you don't need to act all weird and just answer like a normal person would- ouch!! what was that for?"

flicks your forehead damn hard

then, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you closer to him

you lost balance at his unexpected actions and stumbled into his chest

one arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you in closer to his slender body

you could barely breathe, you confusedly directed your gaze at him

but before you could say anything, scaramouche laced his fingers to yours, holding your hand a little too intimately than you expected

all words died in your throat

smirks at your reaction, holding your hand tightly now

"do you hold other guys' hands like this?"

"what- no!"

"hmm, i wonder why." you could almost hear the smirk from his voice

again, you opened your mouth to say something but was silenced for the second time

"then do you do this with other guys?" his husky voice whispered

grabs the back of your head with his free hand, then leans in

before you knew it, his lips were on yours

it was as though time itself has stopped that moment

you finally eased into his kiss, squeezing his hand back

scaramouche stared at you after pulling away

then smirked way too arrogantly than you'd have liked to see

...like he was proud of himself

deeply satisfied with how baffled and shy you looked, it was even better for him when you turned your gaze away to avoid his violet ones

he grabbed your chin and made you look at him, letting out a low laugh full of satisfaction

"figure out "what we are" yourself now, would you, darling?"

#genshin impact imagines #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact fluff #genshin fluff #tighnari #tighnari x reader #tighnari fluff #tighnari imagines #cyno x reader #cyno fluff #tighnari x reader fluff #cyno x reader fluff #cyno imagines #kazuha x reader #kazuha fluff #kazuha x reader fluff #kazuha imagines #scaramouche x reader #balladeer x reader #scaramouche x reader fluff #scaramouche x reader imagines #scaramouche imagines #scaramouche fluff

[crazy-pages]

I'm going to throw my two cents in to the conversation about why James Somerton didn't get caught earlier. Part of the answer is of course that he did get caught, he just bullied and lied to get away with it for a while, but I know a lot of people still express confusion. And of course he went out of his way to make sure his audience didn't know about other queer history sources other than himself. But still. How could he have so many viewers of his videos and none of them had seen X source material?

Well. To be blunt, most of his videos were pretty basic. He tended to copy the highlights of what he was plagiarizing, not the really advanced stuff. And insofar as he copied the advanced stuff, he had a tendency to chop it up and serve it out of context alongside other plagiarized work. The material he was presenting was revolutionary to an audience unfamiliar with queer history, but like. I'm guessing 'Disney villains are queer coded' is not exactly a new concept to the kind of people who read multiple books about queer coding in film.

Now I'm not a film studies person, I'm a physicist. But you know what I do when I get a video in my YouTube recommendations about some fairly basic physics concept?

I skip it. No shade to the creator, but like. I hit that topic a decade ago and I've added literally thousands of hours of studying and research to my brain since. I'm just going to give it a pass, all right?

These kinds of videos self-select for an audience which isn't going to be familiar with the source material. The people who know it are unlikely to keep listening after the first minute or so.

And you've got to remember how much of this content the experts have consumed! With very few exceptions for weird little things that stuck in my head after all these years, I would probably not notice a physics explanation plagiarized from one of my textbooks! Not because I wasn't intimately acquainted with the textbook, but because I was intimately acquainted with many such textbooks. Spend enough time learning this stuff and it all blurs together a little bit. Does this explanation sound familiar because you've heard it before, or because you've just read books which cover this specific topic seven different times? And does that wording or that example ring a bell because it's plagiarized, or because it's common to the field?

Catching this kind of plagiarism requires having the kind of people who are already familiar with these sources, and therefore uninterested in video summaries on the topic, to watch the video. And among those people who do, it requires them to match Somerton's words to one specific source on the topic out of many, that they probably read quite some time ago. And then you have the filter of how many of those subject matter experts have the source on hand to check, to turn a vague "...hmm" into something solid.

If you know enough about queer history to say that some of his plagiarism was obvious, now that you've watched the video, then you should remember that there is a reason you probably weren't one of the people watching his videos! And because YouTube promotes videos through algorithmic engagement, none of this stuff has to pass the sniff test for any other expert in the field before it gets released. No experts have to like it for it to get published or for it to get good reviews or for it to get a recommendation in, I don't know, the New York Times.

The only people who have to like the videos for them to get traction are people who are just trying to learn introductory queer history and film theory. The exact people who aren't going to notice this. And for those of you who to whom it is obvious, ask yourself. When was the last time you watched a basic level queer history introduction on YouTube?

#hbomberguy #james somerton

[star-girl69]

Let Me Love You Like A Woman

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!AphroditeCabin!Reader

—-

synopsis: you and clarisse broke up two months ago, and when you’re selected to go on a mission together, clarisse just wants you to let her love you.

a/n: i feel feelings about this one….. anyways i hope you all enjoy!!

Let Me Love You Like A Woman - Lana Del Rey

******i want to make this clear: there is absolutely NO smut in this fic. terms like “fuck buddies” and “friends with benefits” are used but only bc i cant think of anything else lmao. all they do is makeout and it is suggestive at times but there is NO SMUT

warnings: this is so bad tbh, what is clarisse doing, she’s so confused my little ladybug, y/n my other ladybug is confused too, OH MY GOD THERES ONLY ONE BED, swearing, hate make out sessions but the hate is one sided, kissing obvi!, deep talks about our feelings which is hard for clarisse, angst, mentions of death blood and monsters, lovesick!! slightly desperate!!! clarisse my cutesy little ladybug, exes/enemies w benefits so like mentions of sex and such, very suggestive lol, as an actual server the restaurant scene hurt me to write lol, but for the plot, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

The Big House is the one place in camp you’re really unfamiliar with. It’s not like you haven’t been there before, it’s just you don’t go there that often.

And unknown places scare you.

There’s hiding places you don’t know about, blind spots you aren’t aware of- corners and small secrets and rules that you haven’t learned yet.

You make your way up the steps and through the porch, the familiar part- you pass by the infirmary and the random office no one uses- until you make it to the connected gondola Chiron and Mr. D. spend most of their time at.

You’re about to turn and enter when a familiar figure appears in front of you.

It hurts to think about how you’ll always know it’s her.

She seems just as shocked to see you but covers it up quickly.

“Y/N,” she smirks, looking you up and down.

You stop, go to turn around and march off in the other direction when you remember you can’t.

Clarisse La Rue doesn’t deserve the dirt under your feet, even though she would probably eat it if you asked- charmspeak used or not.

“Clarisse,” you mumble, and she frowns. You never really called her by her name when you dated, and you know it bothers her now to hear you say it.

That’s exactly why you do it, of course, but the part of you that knows everything about her and will always love her squeezes at the sight of her poorly-hidden sad face.

She’s been slipping up lately. It warms your heart to know that’s because of you.

“What are you doing here?” she asks, genuinely curious.

As a cabin leader, it’s not unusual for Clarisse to be here. But she knows you’re scared of the unknown, and she knows it’s just not in your routine to come here.

“Dunno,” you shrug. “Got called here.”

Her eyes light up. “How funny, so did I.”

You roll your eyes, fighting against the parts of your body that want to run towards her and the parts that want to run away. Instead, you listen to your brain and feel her staring at you as you turn the corner into the gondola.

“Y/N, Clarisse,” Chiron greets with a pleasant smile, setting down a hand of cards face-down. You almost laugh at Mr. D’s disappointed look- Chiron isn’t the trainer of demigods for no reason.

“Yeah, yeah, welcome,” Mr D says, seeming entirely uninterested. You both stand there slightly awkwardly.

Chiron is known to be blunt, so he of course jumps right in.

“We have a mission for the two of you.”

“The two of us? Like, just the two of us?”

The words come out before you can stop them, fingers twisting together and mouth slamming shut. You’re fine, you try to tell yourself, even though your mind and body agree on one thing- being too close to Clarisse will just lead you right back to her.

Clarisse tries to hide her hopeful smile, but you see through it. You loved her for so long, of course you see through it.

“Uh… yes,” Chiron says. You clench your fists.

Mr D seems interested now, especially after your outburst.

“Oh,” he laughs. “I see.” He gestures between the two of you, “there’s bad blood.”

Chiron presses his lips together.

“Nothing that doesn’t make us capable of going on this mission,” Clarisse says, taking a step forward. She smiles at you, but doesn’t make a move to touch you. At least she knows some limits, even if they don’t matter now.

“Well,” Chiron continues, seeming to regret his decision but deciding it’s too late. “Y/N. Your charmspeak, I feel, will be extremely important to this mission. And, Clarisse, daughter of Ares- your skills in battle are nothing to scoff at. There is an item I require the retrieval of. A friend left it in a P.o. box in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. The journey is not particularly perilous, but being a demigod carries an affinity for danger.”

You nod, crossing your arms over your chest.

“I trust the two of you will be able to put aside your… ‘bad blood’ and complete your mission?”

Maybe this mission will be good for you. It certainly nowhere near the kleos of a quest, but more so gives you bonus points with Chiron. That could be helpful.

Clarisse looks at you.

“Oh, yes. Don’t worry.”

—-

“Y/N.”

You walk away from Clarisse pointedly, hoping she’ll take the hint.

You’ve decided you’ll do this quest. If you ever did want to be a cabin leader in the future- you either had to be well liked or the best. As a daughter of Aphrodite, you were already well liked- conversation and flattery came as easy to you as breathing.

Even before you learned how to use your charmspeak, you could sweet talk almost anyone into doing whatever you wanted. You really needed an A on that test? A few tears and some master manipulation- suddenly that A was yours.

But, Chiron needed to like you too.

You do this quest for him- which he choose you for- and then you earn even more of his respect.

It was such a simple exchange. It could be such a simple exchange, except if the girl hot on your heels wasn’t your partner.

She finally manages to grab your wrist and whip you back around so you’re facing her.

She smiles.

“I’ll always catch you, you know. No use in running, really.”

“At least I’ll go down fighting,” you say, looking anywhere but her eyes like portals that suck you in. She’s so close to you.

If this was the before you would wrap your arms around her neck and hers would go to your waist. Even if you were mad at her, she would press her body close to yours and kiss the corner of your lips- Clarisse made it her life’s mission to know every inch of you, and she succeeded. She would know the exact way to calm you down and get you to look at her and hear her out.

And most of the time you were being dramatic, or simply joking, and then she would kiss you and it would all be fine again.

Except it’s not the before. It’s the after, and your heart hurts being so close to her.

“What do you want, Clarisse?” you sigh.

“I just wanted to talk to you.”

Your chest blazes. “Go talk to literally anyone else.”

Her face hardens.

“How many times do I have to tell you before you understand that you are the only person I care about?”

You rip your hand away from her grip.

“Shut up,” you hiss, turning and walking away.

“Fine. I’ll see you tomorrow at the gates,” you can feel her smile. “And then I’ll see you all on our mission, huh?”

“You’re crazy!”

—-

You walk into the Hermes cabin and fall face first onto your best friend Marley’s bed.

She looks up from her book and laughs.

“Oh, babe, what happened?” she asks, scratching the back of your scalp as you pull yourself up into your elbows and place your head in her lap.

“Mission,” you groan.

She stops. “A mission? For Chiron? Gods, Y/N that’s amazing-”

“With Clarisse.”

She takes her hand away from your scalp and moves to your chin, lifting you up.

As much as Clarisse hurt you and you hate her, Marley had always had a special sort of hatred for her. Even when you were happy and dating- you would tease her that maybe she’s actually a daughter of Ares, seeing how angry she was.

She was always overprotective, she insisted she just had a bad feeling about her- but eventually she stopped and you thought you could have it all.

“I’m sorry,” Marley laughs. “I don’t think I heard you right.”

You put your lips right up to her ear.

“MISSION WITH CLARISSE-”

“Y/N!” she yells and pushes you away, groaning as she holds her ear. “My ears are bleeding now, oh my Gods-”

“You’ll be fine,” you groan, settling back into her lap. “I’m the one who actually has to go with her.”

“Actually?” she whispers after a tense moment. “You actually have to go with her?”

“It’s fine,” you mumble.

“It’s not. Maybe I-I can talk to Chiron, or maybe I could come with you, huh?”

“No, thanks, Marls. It’s alright, really.”

She stares down at you, head tilted slightly to the side. Marley has always been exceptionally good at hiding her emotions. But you can tell she’s angry. She’s scared.

She’s your best friend and you will always love her in the most special way.

“I don’t want you to go,” she whispers.

The Hermes cabin is always a bustle of activity. But when you’re just here with Marley, it’s the two of you. It’s perfect. It’s what you’ve always wanted- selfishly- to feel special. You feel special with her eyes on you, your head in her lap. She’s your best friend.

You put your hand on her face.

“As much as I hate it, we both know Clarisse won’t let anything happen to me. I’ll be safe.”

“Yeah, but what if she does something to you?”

What if she does absolutely nothing and you fall in love with her all over again?

You always thought that all that stuff about feeling your heart physically break couldn’t be true- but you know it is. You felt it break and every time you look at Clarisse and it can’t be like it was before your heart breaks a little more.

Clarisse acted like you were some big secret that was a chore to hide, and then when you were in her arms she would call you the prettiest girl. It was like whiplash, feeling her touch so tenderly and then not even being allowed to look at her in public. And you wanted so badly to tell everyone that she was yours and you were hers- but she just couldn’t.

And you don’t care about the reason behind that, not after that one night, not after she told you she could never love you.

She doesn’t really want you. She acts like she does, but she only misses you on the surface. Sure, you miss her body, but you miss your late night talks and the way she was always there to protect you, the way she made you feel. You like the person you are with her.

She wants an idea of you, she wants you under her, she wants power and control.

You think maybe a part of her really does regret losing you that night. But, she laid it all out that night. What she feels doesn’t make up for what she said. She doesn’t love you because she’s insecure, because she’s self-serving and power hungry.

She makes you feel stupid waiting for her, but why would you wait for someone else when you could wait for her to come back? You don’t like the unknown, and Clarisse is the one thing you really know.

You look into Marley’s eyes now.

“It will be good for me,” you whisper. “I’ll earn Chiron’s respect.”

Marley kisses your cheek.

“I know. I just don’t want you to go, and I know that makes me selfish but- still.”

“I know, Marls. I know,” you whisper. But this will be good for you, and it’s already been done. You already accepted it.

Marley helps you pack and you watch her anger. You watch her roughness, you watch the fire in her eyes- and Gods, does it make you feel special to have a friend like her.

You only wish you could make Clarisse feel like that too.

—-

The bus ride is boring.

Clarisse, for some merciful reason, decides not to torture you and instead throw her dagger up and down.

But you’re bored.

You’ve been reading a book Marley lended you, something boring and wonderfully distracting about the history of the four wind gods- you think about the wind and not about the way Clarisse’s thigh is pressed up next to yours.

It’s only been two months.

As much as you hate it, you won’t even admit it to Marley, but you’ll admit it to yourself in the quietness of the back of the bus.

You close the book and stuff it into your backpack.

You miss her.

“I’m bored,” you announce before you can second guess yourself.

“Okay,” Clarisse hums, picking at a speck of hardened dirt on her dagger. “I know a lot of things we could do to remedy that.”

Your cheeks flush, but you hold your ground. “I’m not going to kiss you. One, it smells like shit back here and two, we’re not dating anymore.”

“True, but doesn’t that just make it more fun?”

“What?”

Her hand moves to your thigh and you let yourself sink into the before.

“We aren’t supposed to- your best-fuckin’-friend would skin me alive. But we both know you want to.”

“I don’t want my lips anywhere near you.”

She just smiles at you, and you suddenly realize you’ve been staring into her eyes this entire time.

She takes her hand off of you and turns away, and this part of you aches so badly for the before- but it’s after. But she doesn’t love you and she just wants you.

But you want her too. You want her so bad, and maybe if you just let yourself sink into her one more time then you can move on. One good goodbye and you’ll be fine.

“Take a nap, then,” she suggests. “We still have another hour before the next rest stop, I’ll wake you up.”

“Okay,” you mumble, a part of you loathing listening to her, but a nap sounds good.

—-

You sleep the best you ever have since you broke up.

Clarisse was always sneaking into your bed, or you into hers, and she was always so warm and made you feel so safe. You always slept with her. And while you could still fall asleep fine without her- it just wasn’t the same.

You wake up to the sound of the bus doors opening and people talking around you.

“Y/N,” Clarisse whispers. “Wake up.”

You realize your head is on her shoulder.

You push her away from you, she just laughs and stands up.

“So stubborn,” she mumbles, leaning down to dig into her bag for the money Chiron gave you.

You resist the urge to say something snarky back, instead choosing to squeeze past her and out into the aisle.

She’s following behind you in a second, her bag zipping up and getting thrown back under the seat.

She’s right up in your ear.

“I know you hate me,” she whispers. “But you can’t just go running off. What if there was a monster right outside the doors?”

The two of you step off of the bus, the bright sunshine making your squint.

You pull up your shirt and pat your hip where your dagger rests.

“I’d kill it.”

You both know you probably couldn’t.

She laughs. “Is that the dagger I gave you?”

Your face freezes but you keep walking into the rest stop.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you huff.

She sticks her fingers through the loop of your jeans and pulls you into an aisle filled with chips. You suddenly find a bag of Cheetos very interesting.

She looks at your face, into your eyes, and traces her fingers over the dagger’s handle.

“Hm, mine.”

You miss her so bad. You never knew it was possible to miss someone this much. You miss her body and her mind and her voice. You miss her hands and her lips and the way she made you feel.

You don’t pull away. How can you pull away?

It was easy to ignore her when she wasn’t right in front of you, but there’s this part of you that loves her and wants to believe her. Then there’s another part that wants to see her suffer like she did to you.

You push her off of you. “Don’t touch me.”

Again, she just smiles, and that’s really starting to piss you off.

—-

You’re somewhere in the middle of Pennsylvania at a bus stop, waiting to cross the lonesome highway to the other side of the street where a train station awaits you.

“Are you okay?” Clarisse asks, and you realize she’s already stepped out onto the road and you’ve been staring off into nothing. You quickly follow her, half running across the road until you get to the sweet, sweet air conditioned station.

“Yeah, ‘m fine.”

In reality, you have to keep yourself distracted so you don’t fall back into her. You’ve decided it not about whether or not you love or want to hear her out- it’s about the way she kisses you and the way her skin feels against yours.

You can want her, here, where no one will know.

You’ll swear her to secrecy, and she’ll shut up just for the chance of more. And you don’t know if you’ll give it to her.

The station is oddly busy.

You have this horribly uneasy feeling.

You make your way into the line anyways, snatching the tickets from where they’re scrunched up in her hand, trying your best to flatten them again.

She laughs. You refuse to feel the way it makes your heart ache. You think about the other reasons she makes your heart ache.

You see something, shiny and black out of the corner of your eye. When you look over, the indented entrance to a janitor’s closet is marked in shadows.

But you trust yourself.

“I think I just saw something,” you whisper.

She still makes you feel safe. She’s one of the most talented warriors at camp and she loves you- even Marley admitted she won’t let anything happen to you.

She follows your gaze. And she doesn’t see anything.

“Okay,” she murmurs. She trusts you too. Her eyes flick between the shortening line and the shadows. “Maybe one more minute then we’re on the train.”

“Yeah,” you agree, slipping your hand into hers. You can hear her inhale sharply. She’s not phased by a potential monster, but you holding her hand makes her face flush.

Why is she so fucking confusing?

As far as you can tell, she just wants to be fuck buddies- so why is she blushing as you hold her hand?

She squeezes your hand, and Clarisse is right, you make it to the front of the line. The man checks your tickets and hole punches them, welcoming you back into the outdoors.

You look over your shoulder, and something shiny reflects in the sunlight, still in the shadows of the building.

“Clarisse.”

She seems to see it too.

“I can’t tell what it is,” you say.

She tugs you along. “I don’t want to find out.”

When you finally step foot onto the train you take your hand from Clarisse’s and look down at the tickets. Cabin 4A. It’s near the front, so you find it fairly quick- just a simple one room cabin.

You quickly barricade yourself inside, drawing the curtains and setting your stuff on the floor.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“That was tense,” you mutter. Clarisse holds her wrist. She nods, staring down at your feet before sighing.

Somehow, it’s six o’clock. You dig into your snacks, neither of you feeling like leaving the safety of the cabin to go to the dining cart.

The train car has two benches facing each other, overhead storage and a large window. There’s practically no room in between the two benches- the car is maybe 5 feet wide.

You miss Marley. You could always talk to her from across the pavilion during a meal- entire conversations with just your eyes. You miss your siblings, their conversation filling up the silence. Here, there’s nothing.

It’s so silent, and yet it’s that comfortable silence with Clarisse. It makes you miss the before.

That’s all you’ve been doing- missing things and wishing they were different.

The train starts and you stare out the window, the rolling hills and the trees and the small creek. You can feel Clarisse looking at you. You try your best to ignore the way her gaze makes you feel- but you’re alone in this cabin. There’s no one else here. There’s no one else to know if you give in one time.

Something slams against the door.

You breathe in and Clarisse grabs her spear.

“Should I open it?” you whisper, standing up. She sticks out her spear to stop you from moving forward.

The two of you listen, but nothing else happens.

It wasn’t a knock. It sounded sort of like a ball being kicked into the door.

“I’m opening it,” you decide, curiosity killing you, pushing Clarisse’s spear aside.

“Y/N,” she warns, but you’ve already slid open the door.

Absolutely nothing is there. You look out the adjacent windows, down the hallways lined with red carpet.

You shrug. “Nothing’s here-”

It’s cold and scaly when it lands on you.

The same black shiny thing you saw, it’s slithering around your neck, cutting off your air supply immediately. You can’t even scream you’re too scared, hands clawing at your neck but it squeezes and one of its heads rears up to attack your chest-

Clarisse’s spear sails right through its raised head.

It drops, you fall back, gasping, watching as she pins it under her boot and lifts the spear out of it. It’s wriggling and trying to break free- but she stabs it through its other head.

It’s an amphisbaena. A horrible, scaly black snake-sort of thing with a head on each end.

You rub your chest, swallowing a lump in your throat as Clarisse casually picks up the now dead monster and opens the adjacent emergency exit window in the hallway- throwing it out into the middle of nowhere.

She turns back around, frowning at the blood coating the ends of her spear-

You slam into her. You’re breathing so heavily, you still feel like it’s around your neck, but Clarisse carefully wraps her arms around your waist, letting you lean against her as your shaky hands massage your neck.

No one would know.

Her spear falls to the floor.

“Hey, it’s okay, it’s dead,” she whispers, kicking the cabin door closed with her foot.

No one would know.

“Thank you,” you breathe. “Oh, Gods, thank you, Clarisse.”

“No problem,” she says.

No one would know.

“Clar,” you mumble. She stiffens at the nickname. She tenderly brings one hand up to your face, and she wants you just as much as you want her- that’s all this is about. An exchange. You’ll kiss her for the last time and you’ll finally get over her.

“I know,” she mumbles, she feels the burning in her stomach too. You’re connected by that in this one moment, your mutual desire and need. Except she has a need for a new beginning, and you have a need for an end.

It’s so simple.

You both can get what you want from this trip.

“I know,” she says again, her nose touching yours. Your breaths mix in the air. “I know, I miss you so much… so bad, Y/N, you don’t…”

“Show me,” you whisper against her lips, and she does.

You can feel it all, the regret you don’t care about, and the desire and want and need you do care about.

You need to feel more of that. You need to feel special, so when your back hits the the door and her hands are all over you, you tilt your head back and look up at the ceiling, mouth twisted into a moan.

You need her to make you feel special. You don’t feel special without her, without her rough hands and her soft lips. It’s the one trait from your mother that you somewhat despise- the innate need to be the center, to be the focus, to feel special. She’s the only one who has ever made you feel like this.

No one else will ever come close.

“I hate you,” you breathe. You can’t think, all your walls are down. “I hate you so much and I still…. I still…”

She kisses you again so you don’t have to say it.

—-

The bed is scratchy and uncomfortable, but there’s only one- and it’s so tiny you’re pressed right up against Clarisse. She doesn’t wrap her arm around you, even though you wish she would, if only because you’re cold.

Not because you’re still irrecoverably in love with her and you know she won’t. And even if she does, it won’t be in the way you want it.

How can she kiss you like she loves you yet claim she never will? How can one kiss make you so weak in the knees that you’re genuinely considering doing this for any scrap of her you can get?

You stare up the ceiling for a long time, until you come to that weird space where you’re so tired you can’t move and your eyes are closed, but you’re still awake.

She wraps her arm around your waist and kisses your temple.

—-

The next time she kisses you you’ve gotten used to this whole making out with no strings thing.

You’re about to get off the train, so you tidy your stuff and head to the dining cart for pretty pastries and bagels and some fruit. On your way back, maybe 15 minutes left in your ride, someone in a uniform sees two teenage girls heading alone into a room.

When he asks where your parents are, can he see your tickets, you panic and charmspeak him to forget he ever saw this and walk away.

“Close,” you laugh, and Clarisse mumbles some sort of noncommittal agreement before smashing her lips onto yours.

You gasp but kiss her back, just reveling in having her hands on you. Her hands tangle in your hair, tugging back so she has better access to your neck- the side of it already sporting a hickey from last night.

“Did I ever tell you how fucking hot you are when you use your charmspeak?”

“I don’t know,” you mumble, because you can’t think of anything when her lips are on your neck.

—-

The station is luckily only 20 minutes away from the P.o. box, so the walk is quick through the streets of Myrtle Beach. It’s so loud here. There’s cars constantly whizzing past you, people yelling and honking, sirens in the distance. It’s confusing. It’s so different from Camp.

“I fucking hate this place,” you mumble, fidgeting with a loose string on your backpack.

“I do too,” Clarisse answers, but not for the same reasons. Her eyes whip around, searching for anything hiding in the shadows- but the sky is so blue and the sun makes your skin so warm- it seems unfathomable that any monsters would be here.

Of course, they’re here. They just haven’t come out yet.

Clarisse has been angry at the world for as long as you can remember, but you always thought her roughness balanced out with your softness. Ares and Aphrodite, love and war, peace and violence.

You always thought you could bring out that little bit of softness in her.

“On your left!”

Clarisse drags you out of the way just for a man on a bike to speed past you- your eyes flick to the perfectly usable bike lane on the street.

“Asshole,” you mutter.

“Asshole!” Clarisse shouts after him at the same time. He flips you off and continues shouting at more people to move.

Her hand is digging into your arm. She lets go after she huffs, muttering a few more choice words.

She keeps glaring at every honking car and random pedestrian. You roll your eyes when she yells at some random car to go die, laughing.

“Always fuckin’ honking,” she mutters. You know if she ever got behind the wheel, she would do the exact same thing.

“You’re not any better,” you tell her, nudging her hand that’s currently balled up into a fist.

“Yeah, well, I have a reason to be mad.”

Clarisse is angry at the world, but you know she has reasons. She’s not just angry for the sake of being angry, although she finds comfort in the familiar just like you, she is angry at the world that has done nothing but wrong her time and time again.

Sometimes you wish you could have as much fire in you as her. And two months ago, you thought she had enough fire in her for the both of us.

“Why don’t we grab the box and then go to lunch?” you suggest, getting the feeling that Clarisse is about to explode. She looks at you. “We have a few hours until our train back, hm?”

“Yeah, okay.”

—-

Chiron said this mission wasn’t going to be that dangerous, but you are surprised when it really is that easy. You take the key out from the envelope Chiron gave you, opening the blue box and coming out with a small box. It almost looks like some sort of fancy necklace- a long black box with a silver bow on the outside.

“This feels too easy,” Clarisse says as you lean down to carefully place it in your bag.

You shrug. “You’re always so paranoid, just let it all come naturally. Some things are easy, Clar.”

She stares at you for a moment.

“I guess,” she says, sticking out her hand to help you up before you both make your way back out onto the streets.

Her spear is hidden by the mist, strapped to her back, and you’re sure she has a bunch of little daggers strapped all over her. You scan the busy street.

Clarisse snorts at a restaurant called “Mother Earth Green Food” and her eyes light up at the sight of a 80’s style diner- “Mr. Steve’s Burgers and Bacon”.

“We’re going there,” she declares, and you roll your eyes but follow her across the street. It’s not that busy, seeing as it’s still early, so you’re seated quickly. It feels so good and so wrong to be here across from her like this.

It feels like before. Except some sort of alternate reality, where you actually left camp and got to be like this. You still want her and your trip’s not over yet, so you sink into it.

“Hey guys, I’m Miley and I’ll be your server today. What can I get you for drinks?”

She’s got long dirty blonde hair, tied up in two very neat and impressive space buns. Her skin is tan, but you suppose if she lives near the beach then everyone’s skin is tan, really.

“I really like your hair,” you tell her, pointing to the side of her head. She smiles and bounces one of them in her hand.

“Took me forever,” she chuckles. “I love yours, such a pretty color.” You cheeks blush as you thank her.

She smiles at you and goes off to get them, so you turn back to your menu. Clarisse’s foot taps against the floor.

“What are you thinking of getting?”

She sets her menu down and points to some sort of monstrous burger called “The Bomb.”

You laugh. “The Bomb,” you mock. “Will it explode in your stomach, or something?”

She mumbles something under her breath, staring off towards the counter, and you can tell by the look on her face it’s not anything nice.

“What was that?”

She presses her lips together. “Nothing,” she hums.

You shoot her an odd look but she pointedly looks away, and as much as you want to, you decide not to push.

Miley comes back with your drinks, and you thank her as she sets them down. Clarisse mumbles a thank you too after you kick her foot.

“Okay, and what can I get you guys to eat today?”

You have to kick Clarisse again to remind her to say please.

You smile apologetically up at Miley for Clarisse’s sour mood, but she seems not to care, smiling back at you and saying something about how she’ll make sure it’s out quick for you.

“‘I’ll make sure it comes out quick for you,’” Clarisse mocks, her voice a pitch higher.

“Yeah. Isn’t she so nice? And yet here you are treating her like shit.”

“She’s sucking up for a good tip.”

“Or maybe she’s just nice, Clarisse. There are nice people in the world, you know. Not everyone is all dark and brooding or bitchy.”

The silences stretches for a second too long. “Yeah. Yeah, I know.”

You hum, sitting on your hands and staring out the window. It’s times like this your miss your mortal childhood, having access to electronics meant you were never bored. You debate taking out the book Marley loaned you, but you don’t get the chance to.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” Clarisse announces. “Come with me.” She’s already walking away.

“Who’s gonna watch our stuff?”

“Tell fuckin’ Miley to do it, I don’t care.”

You look around. There’s not many people in the restaurant, and you’re curious and bored- so you follow her. The door swings closed behind her, and it takes you a second to follow her in.

You think she’s disappeared, the bathroom empty with two open stalls. The door is kicked closed behind you. You turn around and Clarisse pushes you into the nearest bathroom, her hands on your waist- you moan in surprise, letting her flip the two of you around and press you against the door, her hand leaving your waist to make quick work of the lock.

“Clarisse,” you breathe. “What’s going on?”

“Do you want me to stop?”

You don’t answer and she kisses you deeper.

—-

“Clarisse.”

She’s been smiling at your neck a little too obviously, and when she finally lets you out from under her lips and hands, you immediately turn around and head for the mirror.

“Clarisse,” you repeat.

She’s looking at you in the mirror and smiling. Actually fucking smiling.

“What is wrong with you?!” you yell, turning on the cold water and frantically bringing it to the red hickies on your neck. “Are you a vampire? Oh, my Gods, Clarisse, this is so fucking embarrassing!”

“It’s not,” she huffs. “You’ll be fine.”

“Cl-” but she’s already left. She really has to stop doing that.

—-

Lunch is fine, you leave Miley a nice tip, even though Clarisse scoffs and mumbles that she wasn’t that good- but you feel so bad that she had to watch you wiggle in your seat, desperately trying to hide your neck as Clarisse ran her foot up and down the side of your leg.

You ignore her the entire walk to the station, she barely hides the smug look on her face. Is she just intent on making you seem stupid and weak? Does she want to embarrass you? She knows. She knows you’re still in love with her and she’s playing you like a fiddle.

You thought Clarisse to be a lot of things, and you know she’s cruel and ruthless- but you never thought she could be this way towards you.

You make it onto the train with no problems, and you’re desperate to just get out of this place and back to camp where you can ignore her. You had one last final hurrah, and now you need to forget her.

You stare pointedly out the window. You ate dinner in the dining cart in silence, Clarisse didn’t try to touch you again, but she seems bored of letting you sulk now that there’s nothing else to entertain her.

It’s only about 7:00 pm- you still have an entire night with her, and a bus ride the next day. Why are the Gods torturing you like this?

“Y/N,” Clarisse says. You’re sitting across from each other. Her foot kicks at yours. “C’mere,” she pats the space next to her on the bench.

You snort. “You’re crazy. I’m not sitting near you.”

She shrugs and stands up, sitting next to you while you gasp in exasperation.

“Bitch,” you mumble, clenching your fists at you stand. She plants her hand on the window, trapping you in with her arm.

“Don’t be mean.”

You fold your arms and stare out the window. She’s right at your shoulder, whispering in your ear even though your alone- it makes you feel so special your head gets all dizzy.

“I want you, Y/N.” Not the way you want her.

“I. Don’t. Care.”

She laughs. You can see her reflection in the mirror, she’s laughing and smiling fondly- staring at you.

You whip around and point your finger at her.

“I won’t let you treat me like a rag doll anymore.”

Her smile falls.

“I used to be something you could just swing around, but I’m not anymore. I won’t ever be a toy for you, Clarisse. These past two days were fun, but they were goodbye. When we get back to Camp I’m getting over you, because I’ve spent too much time waiting for you.”

Her hand falls from the window, and she backs away from you.

—-

When you realize that this train also features another small, single bed, you resist the urge to stomp your feet like a child. Instead, you pretend like it’s all fine, a part of you pretends it’s that alternate before- Clarisse turning around while you change and you leave to brush your teeth and then you come back to her in bed.

You lay down, body unwillingly pressed up against hers. She doesn’t touch you, at least, and it’s tense and silent until she breaks it. Her hand finds yours through the sheets and blankets.

“Y/N.”

You try to shake her hand off of you, mumbling that she’s using your tiredness to manipulate you.

“Do you really think that’s all you were to me?”

You’re frozen, she’s right up against your back, breath tickling your shoulder and voice in your ear again.

Your hand still fits perfectly in hers.

“A toy?”

“What else was I supposed to think?”

She utters the two words you never thought you would hear her say.

“I’m sorry.”

Your breathe hitches.

“I-I know I’ve been stupid, I’m not totally dumb. I just, I had it in my head that I could make you fall in love with me all over again. And then I could do it right, I could fix it, and you could teach me how to love you and I would do it right, Y/N. And then I… I got jealous. Because that fucking server was flirting with you, she was, and I got fucking jealous and I fucked it all up.”

She’s breathing heavily at your shoulder.

“I was scared, Y/N. And that… I didn’t know how to deal with that. I was scared because I love you so much I know I would do anything you asked me too. So, I said those stupid things that night, I just lied because I was scared, and I’ll never forgive myself for the way I made you feel. I don’t deserve another chance, but I want to show you that I can do it right. I can do it however you want me too, as long as you teach me.”

It’s silent for a moment.

“I want you to let me love you.”

She lets go of your hand.

“You don’t have to say anything, I guess,” she swallows. “I mean, if I was you I would have killed me-”

“Really?” you voice comes out like a broken whisper, sitting up so you can look into her eyes. You try to tell if she’s lying, but you can’t. It hurts and it aches so good and she’s not lying.

“Y-yeah, I would have killed me.”

You smile. “No, dumbass, do you really love me?”

“Oh,” she blinks, sitting up too. “Y/N, I love you so much that I’ll never be the same person again.”

You don’t want to kiss her. All you’ve been doing is kissing her, sinking into that hard and rough side of your relationship that’s just hot desire.

But there’s a soft part to Clarisse that you bring out. And you bring it out now, winding your arms around her neck, breathing heavily as you rest your head on her shoulder. She hugs you, her arms are so strong, she always gives the best hugs- and kisses your temple like she did when she thought you were sleeping.

She loved you even when she didn’t know you would feel it.

Your fingers dig into her back.

“I love you,” she says again, softly, like she’s caressing the words with such a reverence that they were bathed in golden ichor. “I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too,” you say back, you let her love you, and it’s the most true thing you’ve ever known.

—-

“Ah, young warriors!” Chiron says, holding his hands out.

Of course, on the tail end of your trip you had encountered tons of little monsters- more amphisbaena, even a juvenile drakon that could barely spit acid. Clarisse had made a dazzling show of killing all of them, and unlike the first amphisbaena- none of them got close enough to touch you.

You had to charmspeak the train conductor, the police officer at the station, and the bus driver. You wonder faintly if your mother had been looking out for you, helping you love Clarisse again.

Of course, all of those instances ended in Clarisse pulling you into the nearest corner.

It’s different, now that you know that you live each other. She still kisses you with that rough deepness, like she’s starved, like she’s trying to breathe you in, but her hands are so soft around you. She holds your waist close to you, not like she just wants to feel you body, but like she just wants to be close to you.

You swing your backpack off of your shoulder, you can feel your mascara smeared down your face from the heat, digging into your bag for the black box.

Chiron smiles and holds his hands out for you to place them in. “You have my thanks,” he says, laying the box into his hand.

You’re surprised when all he does is take out a simple pen. It looks like a nice pen, sure, but still just a pen.

He uncaps it, letting it fall to the concrete, when it suddenly transforms into a sword. You yelp and jump back, Clarisse puts her arm in front of you, and Chiron laughs triumphantly.

“Beautiful!” he says, admiring the carefully crafted sword.

Mr. D dissolves into a fit of laughter. “No more bad blood, huh?”

Clarisse drops her hand from where it reaches for her spear, and her other arm from across your body. Her hands drop to her sides, her face turns back into a mask of indifference and she shrugs.

Mr. D seems to find that even more funny, and Chiron dismisses you with a wave of his hand, staring in awe at the silver sword.

Clarisse presses her lips together into a tight line until you smack a kiss on her cheek.

“Love you,” you sing, and her face breaks out into a wide smile. It’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen, and it’s the only thing you ever want to know. All you need to know is her and her love.

—-

marley when she finds out clarisse and y/n are dating again: if you EVER and i mean EVER hurt her again i will torture you in ways not even imagined yet.

clarisse: ok yes i promise 😟😟

—-

clarisse when she realized she was in love with y/n: NO NO NO NO NEW FEELINGS NO I REJECT THIS AND I MUST RUN AWAY IN FACT THIS WILL NOT HAPPEN NO NO NO NO NO NO NO

also clarisse when she realized she just broke up with y/n: OH GODS NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO WHAT HAVE I DONE NO NO NO NO PLEASE NO NO NO

—-

honorable mention to y/n fuck em’ and hate em’ l/n

another honorable mention to clarisse “none of them got close enough to hurt you” la rue

—-

taglist:

@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme @mar2ss @restellsss @ravisinghs-wife @marsconer @evangelinexo @randomhoex @luvrrish

@sincerely-silk @lacytalks

—-

pls ignore it’s for the acc aesthetics thank you!!

#clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse la rue x you #pjo tv show #pjo x reader

[strawbeerossi]

Mine

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid

Description: Whenever the police chief gets a little too friendly with you, you find yourself having a very strict conversation with Spencer at the hotel.

Content/Warnings: Jealous!Spencer, unprotected sex, squirting

Word Count: 1.6K

Kinktober Day Twenty Eight: Squirting

Navigation || Kinktober Masterlist || AO3

Spencer felt his eye twitching as he noticed the newest chief of police was all over you. There was a child abduction case in Nashville, Tennessee that the BAU had offered their resources to. It was standard, children going missing and parents getting weird texts the longer their children were kept captive. You were spending a lot of time at the precinct with him due to you being the designated member alongside JJ to interview the families and surviving child victims who were let go.

“So agent. I got a few questions on your profiling abilities.” The man stated as he was leaning against the desk he was closest to, your gaze lifting from the case file the team had been building up over the past few days. “Okay, lay them on me.” You were just being friendly, not being the best at sensing when men were hitting on you or outright flirting. It was both a blessing and a curse. “Is it true that kids in abusive homes are guaranteed to be murderers?”

The question was quick but you were faster to answer. “No! Not in all cases. Stressors and triggers from childhood can play a big part in the psychological damage of a serial killer but there are people who came from relatively good homes who have murdered others in cold blood. There’s no exact genetic makeup or reason yet, but one day I’m sure it’ll all be answered in depth.”

The rest of the day went like that. He’d ask a question and you’d happily answer, although he was essentially eyefucking you while you were too enthralled in an explanation to pay close enough attention. Hotch had eventually instructed the team to go to their hotel for the night, the team needed rest after being awake for nearly twenty four hours without so much as a break.

The SUV ride back was dead silent, mostly because of exhaustion setting in. However, you could sense tension in your boyfriend as you rested your head lightly against his shoulder.

He’d been abnormally quiet at the precinct, barely even looking in your direction when you came near him. You figured it was exhaustion. Not only were you up for long hours but cases involving children were some of the most draining things you’d ever have to go through. After arriving at the hotel and everyone disbanding to get to their rooms, you were unlocking the door and getting your shoes off while Spencer quietly walked deeper into the room.

“Did you want to take a shower first, babe?” You asked, offering a smile.

It faltered though whenever your boyfriend was facing you, fury in his eyes. “Are we not gonna talk about how chief Lorn is shamelessly flirting with you? It’s like you're eating it up! I mean come on, babe. Why would you ever assume he would care about profiling related things?” His tone was steady, yet anger bubbling over the surface. You looked confused, an eyebrow raised. “Flirting? Spencer, he’s asking questions. I think you’re just tired and taking your emotions out on me.”

Very good guess and probably true, however Spencer wouldn’t admit that. “No. I’m not taking out my emotions on you for no reason. You think I don’t see you batting your eyelashes or laughing at anything this guy says? You don’t know how angry it makes me to know how blind you are to these signals.” Blunt. The words had your mouth agape in shock. “I’m not flirting with the damn police chief! Jesus, Spencer.”

“I don’t believe you. You look like you are eating up all the attention. You know, I bet he wouldn’t even treat you the way I do. Do you think he’d spend every waking moment dedicating his life to you? Huh? Do you think he could love you like I do?” His footsteps were quick and his path decided to back you up against the wall. “Cause I know for sure that he can’t make you cum like I do.” His honey colored eyes were blown out with lust, his hands immediately moving to grip your hips tight. “Spencer!” You squeaked, your pussy clenching desperately around nothing as you could feel the heat of arousal coursing through your veins. Spencer hardly ever got jealous like this, however you liked this side of him. He was rough and could be a little mean, which really did get the job done. “Tell me I’m lying.” His eyes narrowed, hand under your chin making you stare up at him.

“I-I wasn’t flirting with anyone! I was just being friendly.” Your voice was barely above a whisper while Spencer sighed and dropped his hand from your chin. “Go get on the bed.” He murmured, already working on getting his tie off. You knew what you were in for. Spencer didn’t act like this much but you knew that special incidents would pull this rather uncharacteristic side out of him. You’d done what you were used to, already stripping yourself down as you were crawling onto the hotel bed while preparing yourself for whatever was coming.

You knew that he wasn’t going to give you the princess treatment like usual, instead Spencer was getting right to business as he was reaching in his bag to pull out a condom from the side pocket and using his teeth to tear it open. After rolling on the rubber, he was heading over to the edge of the bed to grasp your ankle, tugging your body down the mattress. His gaze was focused on your pussy, a low hum leaving his lips. “Look at how wet you are.” His fingers were teasingly running through your slick folds to collect your sweet arousal, holding a hand up to show off the glistening digits. “Now, I wonder who did that..” He playfully pondered while giving his cock a few lazy tugs.

As he was situated between your legs, Spencer was grasping his shaft and smacking it against your pussy before moving to run his tip through your folds to further tease you, your hand gently reaching for his hip. “Fuck, Spencer. Please.” You whined.

That was all he needed to hear, his large hands wrapping your legs around his waist as he readied himself, his right hand on his cock while the left squeezed your hip. As the thick tip was breaching your soaked cunt, the male was shushing your whines. “We haven’t even gotten started yet. Tonight, I’m gonna show you just how much you don’t need some idiotic police chief and learn how to appreciate what you do have.” Jealousy wasn’t something Spencer was proud of but the emotion was prominently on display and he wasn’t gonna hide it.

His hips were slamming against yours without warning, a loud gasp falling from your lips as your head was falling back against the mattress. “Fuck!” You cursed, feeling the burn of his cock stretching out your desperate and leaking pussy from being shoved deep into your warmth. “You think he’d have you acting like this? Look at how desperate you are and I’ve barely touched you.” His voice was low as both hands roughly gripped your hips. Spencer was normally more of the soft and sweet side, however in these sorts of moods, he was different than anyone who really knew him could imagine.

His thrusts were relentless, your pussy sinfully squelching from each rough snap of his hips, your arousal adding a shine to his cock. “Is this what you wanted? To be fucked like a cheap whore?” The vulgarity alone was making your stomach do flips. This was the man who was bashful with saying the word bitch, yet here he was, cursing and calling you a whore. You wouldn’t complain at all, mainly because you couldn’t.

With his onslaught of assaulting your cunt, you were letting out a series of moans, shaky whines, and pleas for him not to stop. Your skin was flushed, nails digging into your partner’s shoulders as you were in pure bliss. “Look at you. You like it when I abuse your cunt, don’t you? Want to be used like the whore you are? Fuck,” He huffed out, lips smashing against yours as he wasted no time practically shoving his tongue in your mouth while slamming his cock into your pussy, slamming into the spot where you needed him most.

The feeling of your walls constricting and spasming around his cock was like a dream. Spencer was sensitive, so he loved feeling your gummy walls and being able to have them gripping at his shaft, your desperate pussy making an attempt to suck in more of his dick even though it just wasn’t possible.

You were seeing stars, a familiar heat brewing in the pit of your stomach. However, you weren’t able to speak, only being reduced to blubbering about being close, even so the words were slurred together and still hard read. Thankfully, Spencer knew exactly what you were trying to convey, a hand coming down between your sweaty bodies as he was quick to press his finger against your clit, the pressure on the bundle of nerves causing you to whine desperately.

However what happened next was something that even snapped Spencer out of his jealous haze.

He was in the midst of roughly fucking into you whenever your legs were shaking violently, your nails dragging down his back as your body arched from the bed while hitting your orgasm. Instead of making a creamy mess of his cock, there was a gush of arousal that painted his thighs, pelvis, your thighs, and the hotel bedsheets below you. Spencer was slowly coming to a stop while staring at you with wide eyes.

“You’ve never done that before!” He squeaked, his eyes casting down at the glistening of your arousal painting his skin. You were fucked out, your eyes glossed over as you opened your mouth to speak, however a moan falling out soon after.

“No, no. We are doing that again!”

#spencer reid #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid fandom #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid smut #dr spencer reid #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds smut #doctor spencer reid #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader smut #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid scenario #strawbeerossi kinktober 2023

[stararch4ngelqueen]

I just realized that we've never talked about anything like "morning wood" scene where reader wakes up first and sees her man's cock rising. (i can't choose between jason or simon)

Why not both 🧍🏽‍♀️

I only have strength to do character inclusive before hat man takes me. Please enjoy ❤️✨

🎩 🤺

Time Written - 9:07 p.m

The hour was early, the sun non existent in the skies just yet, but it’s presence would soon accompany the beautiful violet-tangerine clouds merging into dark, dull gray.

Your beloved still has his arm snugly wrapped around your waist, his thumb nudged just underneath the hem of your large shirt, mindlessly rubbing along soft skin. The best parts of waking up in the mornings weren’t just waking up alongside your personal body heater known as your muscly teddy bear, clutching you close like said plush toy.

Half of the time, it’s the not so subtle surprise pressed up against your lower back and rear when your mind pokes out of sleep, making it even more difficult for you to get comfortable again after being painfully aware of it.

Most of the time when it occurs, as does the ache in your lower tummy bloom; a need for him, an eager response of your body towards his.

He’s blissfully unaware of how hard his cock had gotten, too lost in the throws of sleep while clutching you close like a doll. It’s the rare occasion he slept with you a full night instead of coming home in the early hours of the morning or the middle of the night. The rare occasion where civil duties weren’t needed or expected from him, having him all to yourself.

While he appreciates coming home to a hot meal and a warm bed after a long patrol, it wasn’t enjoyable without you in the sheets with him. His body surely expressed just how much he had missed you.

You wondered what he might’ve dreamed of right this very moment. Was it an innocent, mindless walk in the park or the beach with you during a warm sunset? Or, was he living through a fantasy of burying his thick cock in between your plush thighs? Holding your head down against his own pillow while breeding your needy little cunt?

Whatever the cause, it left you quivering with a growing need to find out.

Your natural curiosity had you reach your hand behind you, brushing along bare skin of his lower torso where his tank top had ridden up, resting your fingers along his outer hip. Trailing along his lower waist, you shuffled your hips just a bit until you prod along your desired goal.

He emits a content little groan after a faint hitch in his breath, a soft sound that only lasts for a few moments. Satisfied with the result, your hand gives a soft squeeze along the pleasantly warm length, comfortably hidden from you under thick, navy fabric.

His breathing starts to slow down as soon as you start to move your fingers. Slow, teasing little squeezes just along the blunt tip, massaging down the length of his cock. How it irked you to brush your thumb along his sensitive underside, making your mouth water and your thighs slightly clench.

“Morning, hun.” His voice is hoarse, letting out a short yawn. He still keeps his arm around your middle, burying his face into your sweet hair after you settle with the startle of him waking up without your knowledge.

You turn, your loose shirt slightly twisted by your movements as you face your sweetheart, taking in his adorably tussled hair and sleepy eyes boring into yours.

His smug, little semi smirk lets you know that he might not be entirely surprised by this circumstance. He doesn’t seem embarrassed or ashamed by this either. He seems more amused than anything, especially since his favorite girl could do something about it.

You press a soft kiss against his lips, one that left him confused when he attempted to lean for more before you abruptly pull away. He whispers your name in question, lightly surprised when you kiss the corner of his mouth, down his chin, underneath his sharp, lightly stubbled jaw.

“So it’s that kind of morning, huh?” He questions, his Adam’s apple bobbing after you kiss it, his voice still raspy from sleep.

“Mhm,” you hum, your fingers eagerly slipping just underneath the hem of his sweatpants. He contentedly sighs, letting you have your fun now that he knows you’re in one of your playful little moods.

Kissing down along his chest, following the roadmap of his main scar down towards the rich, dark happy trail that peaked out of his sweatpants.

His breath hitches at the touch of your hands squeezing him through the damn fabric barrier, and he finds it’s a little bit harder to keep his cool at this stage. You can really do that to him, and it’s like nothing can ever compare.

“What’s gotten into you, sweetheart?” He amusingly murmurs, his voice still soft and husky.

Should be you, soon enough. You wanted to say back, but pursed your lips to prevent saying it. He knew; he beat you to it merely two damn seconds after he asked it.

It would be a shame to make a mess on such cool toned, dark gray silk sheets. Freshly washed, too.

He’s trying to resist as much as he can, but you’re just excitingly relentless when it comes to getting what you want. This morning, it just happens to be him.

“You tryin’ to ruin me already, aren’t you?” He chuckles, a handsome, rugged sound that shoots arousal down your spine.

“Mhmm,” You hum, starting to pull down the waistband just enough. His swollen, eager cock quickly greets you, hot and heavy in your hand, the tip practically weeping for more of your touch. A heavy, glistening bead trickles down the blunt head, perfectly caught along the tip of your tongue to taste him.

Settling perfectly snug against his legs, curled perfectly per comfort, you trail your tongue under the head, lapping along that particular spot that garnered a beautiful reaction outta him. His head tilted back against his pillow, brows scrunched from light ripples of euphoria, fists lightly clenching along blankets tossed aside.

“Shiiit… really ruinin’ me, sweetheart.”

You stop for a second, smiling a bit while rolling your thumb close to the base. “Should’ve specified.”

He lets out a soft snort, expressing his affection through amused chuckles and heart eyes through a heavy lidded gaze.

This morning is already off to a great start. He’s trying to think of a way to one-up you, but he honestly is just too tired for all of that.

You barely had just a bit of him in your mouth, providing such simple kitten licks, and he displayed such heavenly responses that bloomed your ego to wonderfully high levels.

Then again, you seem to be up and about already, so maybe he’ll have to put in some effort after you pamper him. You’ll quickly enact upon what he so eagerly desired to reenact from his dream; properly face fucking his sweetheart. Glossy lips pressed against his pelvis while bullying himself deep down your throat, further fueled by those obscenely filthy chokes he adored so much.

A well deserved throatfuck for such an adorably sassy mouth.

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x fem!reader #dc jason todd #jason todd x y/n #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #simon riley #jason todd dc #jason todd x reader smut #gotham knights jason todd #jason todd gotham knights #jason todd x #jason todd smut #ghost simon riley #simon riley x reader smut #Simon Riley smut #ghost smut #cod simon ghost riley #Simon ghost Riley smut #simon ghost riley x reader

[comfortless]

I already sent you an ask today so hiiii

(Alright so now I hopefully have your attention, imagine: ancient settling, mercenary könig is made prisoner and enslaved and reader, a cute noble girl, buys him to ☆have fun☆. He doesn't mind at all.)

Have a good day!

anon whoever you are… every message that you have sent has been like you putting a clawing animal in my brain. all of these concepts are so good. sorry it took me a bit to get around to this one. <:•)

captured mercenary! König x noblewoman! reader

content/warnings: 18+. minors do not interact. medieval au (so: gender role nonsense), slightly mean slightly pathetic König, very brief mentions of violence/beheading, masturbation.

“That one.”

You hear yourself speak without thought. Your voice is shy, almost. It’s unbecoming of your station to seem so meek… even as you eye the men lined up before you like cattle prepped for slaughter.

Prisoners, they were. All apart from the one you had chosen would be little more than toys for the executioner after what they’ve done: to think that such a little band of mercenaries would even be planning for a siege… ridiculous. Most of the men have already had their hair cut cleanly away from their necks in preparation for the blade that would be slicing past each vertebrae and layer of muscle to chop away their heads.

This one is saved only because he’s been stripped of his armors, and though his face is rather rugged… there’s strength beneath his skin and such a deep misery in his eyes it sets your chest ablaze with pity. He could be useful, a willing servant if you could only save him from what terrible thing haunts him.

Maybe it’s the old wounds that flare his skin with the raised flesh of scar tissue, perhaps it’s the harelip or the wild thing set between his thighs where he’s forced to kneel. It catches your eye, that last one…

The prisoner’s jaw sets when your finger does point his way, blue eyes narrow just a fraction as realization settles in the pit of his stomach. No freedom to be garnered here, no love, nothing but that blade he had intended to use against you sworn to you instead. If the giant spit at your feet then, it would be expected, welcomed almost with the way your chest roars with sympathy.

He only stares.

You pay off his captors with a few silver coins and watch as they lead him bound to your side. His arms are tied too tightly before him, muscles slack with exertion after trying to fight the ropes for what must have been hours. Whether he sees you as savior or something revolting remains unknown. He doesn’t speak, not even as a servant leads him into the back of your carriage and you step inside after him, holding up the middle of your gown as to not sully it with the dirt and old blood splattered over the stones layered for street.

When the horses begin to move you give the man a proper once over, hiding your smile beneath a handkerchief, free hand curled into the lap of your skirts. He’s not just tall and broad, but incredibly well endowed. Not just sad and downtrodden, but pissed, though the only tell remains his shaking fists. His gaze never meets yours for longer than a moment before it settles back to gaze at the passing tall grass and sheep prancing about the fields, but each time that it does… there is no denying the mixture of confusion, maybe even attraction upon his face.

Your home was something this giant had never had a taste of prior to you: a castle atop a hill, charming and stone with its high ramparts and blunt roof. You didn’t need his confirmation in words, though you do ask and get nothing in turn.

The carriage pulls you right through the gate and it is almost cute the way that this man’s eyes seem to wander as he takes it all in. There are other servants tending to the sheep and horses, the smell of fire and the chiming of blade meeting blade ringing out as men spar, there are cats to keep away pests and modest but cozy homes, a tavern, an inn all beyond the wall. A small city of your own: all for the perfect little noblewoman that you were.

The only thing that you lacked was the trained sword of a man to ensure your safety, and now you had that, too.

You explain to him his place here, the role that he would take for the price you paid as you both disembark from the wooden carriage. He would be fitted for armor donning your family’s crest come the morning, whipped into obedience should he dare raise a hand toward any one here. You even think to warn him of the executioner’s sloppy work, how he may even live with his head chopped only halfway off should you request it…. some horror you had heard one of the travelers speak of.

As the weeks pass, König does begin to settle immensely. His speech is disjointed and parsed, his mother tongue muddled with your own language in a way that is cute… terribly, horribly cute.

He’s intelligent and strong: spends much of his time out amongst the lower men aiding with the animals and teaching them the deft way he swings his blade. It is an art form in its own right, the way that he paints the air with swift strokes… For a woman to fawn over a man’s swordplay was absurd, but it was impossible not to enjoy when he taunts and jabs the way that he does.

He rarely wears that armor the blacksmith crafted for him, both a flattery and an insult. You don’t mind watching him best smaller men in solely his trousers, pressing their faces into the muck while he barks his insults to them in words they can not understand. To you, now, when he flashes the most beastly of grins in your direction and utters the words, “Verpiss dich.”

You aren’t even certain why you stand there rather than hissing out orders to have him taken away. Your stupid corset feels too tight, gown too small, and your chest aches. There's not been a thing you could do to have this man do more than simply tolerate you. He sleeps within his own room in the castle, eats his fill and then some, you talk to him and layer your words with praise. He has not once been punished for anything. Not even now.

“Come here,” you demand without thought, walking down the staircase to cross the yard with your hands balled into delicate fists at your sides.

Your giant only looks confused for a moment as he clambers off of the man he’s just wrestled to the earth and rights himself. His eyebrows raise, his nostrils flare… and then he laughs. At you like you’re the most puny of rabbits, hardly a threat. Your betters would have laughed too at just how fragile you sound, on the cusp of tears over what? Some ridiculous little crush on a captive soldier??

He eventually does as you ask, stomping over to stand before you- not kneel, he never knelt. If his height and stature were meant to intimidate… your god would have to forgive the thoughts that muddle your head then, like filthy water as you drink him in.

“Was…?”

So you explain to him as best you can just how insolent he’s being, how horribly he repays your kindness, how he would be dead on some shrouded mountain pass or have his body tossed into the river if not for you. You explain your heart out when tears come to your eyes and spring forth as your chittering continues, and you don’t even know if the moron can understand; he only stands there with the wildest grin on his face when he sees you beginning to sniffle and sob.

“Was?,” he demands again, blunt even as he takes your face into one of his large hands, turns your head to brush a tear from your cheek with the pad of his thumb. “Why are you crying?”

“You need to learn your place!” And you know you’re being a hypocrite, that a proper lady should never allow a man to touch her like this, look at her the way that König does. You should call for a servant to have him dragged through the yard and whipped… or worse, but your voice only comes in a crestfallen whisper.

He shrugs those massive shoulders, rolls his neck and huffs a breath as he gazes down at you before his hand falls to his side and he merely walks away. That’s it.

Though you had the hopes that your warning had been taken seriously, the days following seem even worse.

König abandons his duties and takes up the most horrendous idea of courtship that he can muster. If courtship is even what it could be considered. It is more like a direct taunt, a jab now that he’s been made perfectly aware just how fragile the maiden he was sold to guard is.

He takes liberties once you’ve bedded down each night, your dresses stripped away to be replaced with a plain linen gown with nothing beneath: your only protection in the form of the wooden door between you two because König is no protector.

It always starts with the sound of spitting into his palm, then a drawn out sigh that rises to a near-animalistic groan. Sometimes he speaks, other times the soft, wet sounds rise in tempo until all that comes from his mouth are sharp hisses and whines.

This night proves to be the worst.

The wood creaks under his weight as he leans back against the door, stroking himself to the thought of you behind it. He makes it apparent when he breathes your name, low and shaky as you squeeze your eyes closed and pretend to not hear the words that follow.

“Scheiße… bet you’re tight,” he hisses between his depraved whimpers, the slick sounds increasing even as he rights himself to stand proper. You can almost hear the way he salivates, can almost imagine the way his jaw must fall slack and his eyes go dazed as he pleasures himself… you squeeze your thighs shut.

“Ja… you want it too, huh…” The bastard is most assuredly imagining you, knelt before him with the most helpless, reverent gaze as you plead for him. It should make you ill, yet it only stokes a fire in your belly, one that bridges between rage and need. “Ich will dich ficken…”

Your breath comes to a halt when your hand drifts beneath your thin gown, forcing yourself to listen as he brings himself to ruin in the halls as your finger presses to the spot that demands attention most of all. A fragile, shaking circle before your breath already begins to catch.

“Bitte…”

The brute sounds so helpless now, no longer the horrid thing that ordered you to “piss off” or scowled in your direction. He doesn’t know a thing about love… about how one should yearn for a maiden, only of spilling blood and seed. It’s only in the quiet of the night when the rest of the castle sleeps does he allow himself to be even this vulnerable… only his vulnerability seems even more terrifying.

His groans morph into pitiful sighs as he no doubt slows his motions, drawing out an impending orgasm in the hope that you will crawl to your door to let him in and fuck you rough on your bed.

“Just let me…”

Your thighs tremble as you weep between them in longing. The sooner it’s over the sooner you can close your eyes and drift back to sleep, no longer needing him the way he seems to need you now.

Your motions grow more heady, the patterns traced quicker and more deliberate as the heat rushes down further like the most vast wave of pure fire… When you tense, when your lips part to allow a low murmur of pleasure to slip from them, you’re met with laughter from the other side of the door.

“Ja… my lady… you do want it,” he hums as you draw your covers up and over your head in shame. You hadn’t been that loud, surely… but the way that he follows after, coming undone himself with a loud grunt as though it were some ridiculous competition…

“Let me fuck you next time,” he rasps, panting soft as he leans back. Depraved as he was, you were certain he was probably admiring the pearly paint he left along the stones. “That is my place, hm?”

#könig x reader #konig x reader

[angelbarelywrites]

♡ tommy gets jealous | oneshot

♡ fandom; Texas Chainsaw Massacre (2003/2006)

♡ characters; Thomas Hewitt

♡ reader; gender neutral

♡cw; mentions of kidnapping and violence, don’t date people who want to slash you irl not a good foundation for a relationship

♡notes; I put on my big boy panties and wrote something other than a bulleted list!!

I just love a good “i trust you but i sure as fuck don’t trust anybody else” type jealously trope. Also some Tommy doing ASL!! We love a (selectively?) mute king.

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

You were an oblivious person. Most of the time, anyways. You’d been totally shocked when Luda Mae didn’t let you leave the night you arrived at the Hewitt house, totally shocked when Charlie told you Thomas was obsessed with you, and more surprised still that Charlie had been right.

You weren’t stupid— you put two and two together that these folks were cannibals as soon as you saw the basement. You nearly talked Monty into letting you go, and you slipped your restraints a couple times before you were settled in. You’d done well in school and still could read a book in one sitting.

Maybe… socially inept was a better word, harsh as it sounded. It was only people that you had a such a hard time with. You trusted them, but you could almost never wrap your head around what they were thinking.

Like the customers that stayed too long . It happened a lot. Bikers and tourists and all sorts of folks would stop in when you were working in the convenience store, and usually more than once a day a man would stay leaned on the counter, chatting away until his buddies were about to leave him. Sometimes they’d be alone, and Luda would give you a break early and they’d go off looking all huffy.

It very rarely occurred to you that the men were trying to flirt. You didn’t think of yourself as someone that happened to- and treated all customers the same. Why would they think you wanted to bang em when all you did was smile? Being nice was part of your job.

Luda Mae payed no mind to the men or your conversations. If there’d been any cause for concern, she’d be able to quash it very easily. But she found it endearing, especially your confusion and apathy when they did get balls enough to be blunt . In her mind you were so devoted to Thomas that other men were just nuisances.

That’s why no one had mentioned it to Thomas. He rarely came up to help now that you were there to help Luda Mae, but today there was extra stock, and her joints had been aching from the weather. You were on register, Luda Mae relaxed in a rocker on the porch, and Tommy stalked the aisles and put out trinkets and canned food and all the other junk you sold. You were trying not to go distract him and stood leaned over the counter, doodling on some scrap paper between customers.

“Well hello darlin,” A man drawled, hands on his belt buckle. He was trying too hard to be a real Texan, but he wasn’t from up North like you. “You got any cigarettes back there?”

“Sure do! Let’s see… got Camels, Lucky Strike- I really like these ones, the Salems, they’re menthol-“

“You look too sweet to smoke. I’ll take the Camels,”

“Well, only do it on special occasions,” you shrugged, not paying much attention as Thomas stalked towards the front “Anything else?”

“Well. That depends.”

“On?”

“If you’re free or not tonight.”

You blinked, then furrowed your brow “You tryna ask me out?”

“Well I- oho shit!” The man laughed uncomfortably as he noticed Thomas right behind him “You scared me there big guy-“

He huffed and slunk behind the counter as the man nervously tried to get back on topic “Anyways… ahem…so about that date-?”

You huffed and out a hand on your hip “Well, depends?”

He perked up a bit “On what?”

“If you can beat my boyfriend in a fight.” On cue Thomas wrapped his arms around you from behind, growling as he hooked his chin on your head.

The man quickly turned tail and mumbled something about being out of practice, forgetting the cigarettes completely. You could feel Tommy relax and turned to let him pick you up and set you on the counter. Even then you weren’t eye to eye with the giant of a man…but it was closer, and you liked feeling tiny anyway.

“…hi baby.” You cooed and loosely wrapped your arms around his neck. He huffed and nuzzled you, as he often did as a form of reassurance. You giggled and pecked his mask “Annoying, right?”

He nodded and scowled, keeping his grip tight on your hips

“…what’s wrong?”

He hesitated but pulled back to sign ‘Mine. All mine. Right?’

You giggled again “Of course! All yours- always.”

He smiled softly- the sort of expression only you could coax out of him ‘Always’

#slashers #thomas hewitt #slashers x reader #slashers x you #tcm #thomas hewitt x reader #leatherface #texas chainsaw the beginning #texas chainsaw massacre #luda mae hewitt #thomas brown hewitt

[yuri-is-online]

Hi hi so can we have an expansion of middle school Floyd completely being his unfiltered self around yuu (maybe even octotrio going like "Oh please don't believe that merculture is like this" because middle school Floyd is embarrassing them in front of their crush) PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

Hmmm

So Floyd says morays are cowards right, but my experiences with little kids tell me that they don't always have the best sense of self-preservation. I picture little Floyd as one of those kids on crack. He thinks this human is cute! Especially because they don't have the sense to be afraid of him at all and are calling him cute, that's real funny. What if he just takes a big chomp outta ya, will you still think he's cute? As for the embarrassment, well...

Azul

It comes from how blunt little Floyd is.

He's got even less patience for Azul's plans than big Floyd does, and the complete inability to see the value of waiting for the pay off. He's actively getting angry at him and throwing temper tantrums every time Azul tries to smooth things over with Yuu.

"No you can't get the ability to breathe underwater from kissing a mermaid Floyd is making that up. And no not all merfolk are obsessed with legs that's just a him thing-"

"Nah Azul really likes your legs and pretty much everything you do with them!" Little Floyd is loud enough that other people than just you are looking at him in confusion (Azul is convinced it is overwhelming judgment) because he's choking on a mixture of spit and air because how did he pick up on that already?!? Azul thinks he's so subtle when he admires you, he's got to be so you don't think he's weird.

He can't wait for this to be over, he can handle being made fun of by the twins now since they've got a good rapport and he can give as good as he gets but little Floyd is like a sea otter with a clam, he just won't let this go because he thinks octopus courtship is boring and he's not above saying that. Outloud. In front of you.

Jade

It's from how willing he is to throw Jade under the bus.

Floyd knows Jade pretty well, even if it's a younger version of him so he knows just how down bad stupid Jade is within 15 seconds and he is determined to "help."

Said help is mostly just humming a very specific song while swimming around you in circles and doing little tricks to "set the mood." Or asking you what you think about Jade when he thinks he's out of earshot, something he's never once been since little Floyd got summoned.

He thought this would be fun, Floyd is always so delightfully unpredictable and now there's two of him! But instead of bothering Azul he's decided to torture Jade and ruin his carefully cultivated image instead. He sort of gets why Azul was so determined to get rid of all his childhood photos now, you're never going to look at him the same after this.

When his efforts don't work because Jade is too much of a coward little Floyd starts just telling you a bunch of stuff they got up to as kids in an effort to embarras him. It clearly works from how quick Jade is to shove him to the side but you're polite enough to keep the laughter to a minimum. For the most part

Floyd

It comes from how much of a coward he is.

Floyd is waiting for the right time to speak with you, when he's extra sure that you feel the same as he does. When he knows you'll accept everything he wants to give you and more.

But no. Little him has to say everything that comes into his mind. "Are your legs soft? Why are you leaking seawater? Do all humans really only have ten toes and can I count them-"

If you find this funny, I think it might depress him somewhat. He wants you to see all the ways he's smart and not brush him off as an unserious joke. If you think it's cute, well that's a mix of emotions. He doesn't want you to see him as cute now, but it's ok if you find morays cute, and even nicer if you find baby morays cute. That thought alone perks him up.

Until little Floyd starts telling Yuu he thinks they're cute. Then he gets possessive and starts competing with himself like a looser. Probably by picking Yuu up and carrying them away since his legs are longer and he can get away faster.

#<3 asks #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #floyd leech x reader #jade leech x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #I'm writing this on my phone so apologies if there's any typos #I'm thinking about getting soup #or pizza #... probably just gonna have some cereal though

[haikyu-mp4]

Workplace romance

word count; 941 – f!reader, fluff

“The Schweiden Adlers ball is next weekend, I assume you know that,” you mumble to start off, already used to how Kageyama’s knee bounces repeatedly in what you could only assume was restlessness. “I just need to know who you will bring as a date. There will be paparazzi and I just want to make sure I have everything under control.” As you were speaking, you didn’t really look up at the man, simultaneously finishing off the notes from your previous meeting with Hoshiumi.

“A date?” Kageyama repeated back to you and you chuckled softly at his confusion, sparing him a glance.

You’re one of Schweiden Adlers’ PR managers, recently tasked with handling the three younger members, Ushijima Wakatoshi, Hoshiumi Korai and Kageyama Tobio. They are all pretty sweet and you thanked the heavens every day that you didn’t end up as PR manager for the MSBY Black Jackals. “Yes, you get a plus one. You could also bring your mom or sister, that’s always good for your image. Alternatively, there’s no problem with going alone. Although that might call forth a different genre of headlines…” you rambled, doing your job and analysing the different options without even noticing how the young man was twiddling his thumbs in his lap nervously.

Kageyama was the one you spoke with the most from the team, as he was also the newest to this business. While the two of you would talk casually outside the four walls of your borrowed office all the time, you loved your job and preferred to stay stressed and professional while doing meetings. “But I could bring a date too? Someone I like?” he asked. For some annoying reason, his words made you stop writing and an icky feeling crept into your stomach.

“Of course, I just need to know who so that I can take the necessary precautions…” you answered, biting the inside of your cheek as if to force yourself to speak.

“Will you go with me?” he asked. Finally, ran through his mind as your eyes finally stilled where he could see them, staring right into his. Kageyama smiled nervously, hoping you would answer any second now. It’s a bit like the smile you finally coaxed out of him for those commercial photos. Oddly charming.

“You want to go with me?” you asked, wondering if you heard him correctly and straightening up in your seat. Hopefully, he couldn’t see your bright red ears.

“Yes,” he answered simply. No room for misunderstanding there, you suppose.

“That’s…” you couldn’t help the giddy chuckle you left in the air as you looked back down at all your messy notes. “Very unexpected.”

“Why? I thought I made it obvious that I like you,” he said, blunt as ever. Tobio felt like this should not be a surprise at all, as he made an effort to talk to you every time he saw you and even got you a box of milk on the days he knew you would be there in advance. Was his affection not obvious?

You’re full-on grinning like a madman now, burying your face in your hands to hide the blush on your cheeks. “I would love to go with you.” you finally declared, not responding to his blunt confession because you weren’t quite sure how to yet. “But I need to talk to some of our bosses and make sure it’s approved first. We wouldn’t want any scandals to plague your name,” you said, removing your hands from your face as you went halfway into work mode again. You flipped to a new page in your notebook and wrote down what information you needed. The smile was still stuck on your face and Tobio was happy to see it.

“Okay.” he agreed. There was still a sense of childish innocence to him that you really liked. “But I don’t want to go with anyone else,” he added as if that was just stuck in his mind.

“You should go back to practice, Tobio,” you said, using your softest voice to make sure he knew you weren’t trying to be dismissive. “If you stop by before you leave today, I will let you know how it’s looking after making some calls,” you told him, smiling as he got up.

“I will see you soon, then.” He bowed, about to leave when you spoke again.

“Tobio!” you called, pursing your lips and considering your next words before they just spilt from your lips. “I like you too.”

Kageyama walked back to practice with a happy smile, making Hoshiumi frown at him as if it was the creepiest thing he had ever seen. Meanwhile, you were in your office kicking your feet and punching the air in joy before taking a deep breath to start making those calls without giggling.

He stopped by after practice, like he promised, knocking on the door and walking in with a hopeful spark in his eyes. You told him how this might play out so he would be prepared for any potential consequences, but could still happily inform him that you would be going with him to the event.

And boy were your assumptions right. The headlines questioning whether or not this was appropriate were simply unavoidable. However, it only took one press conference to quiet it down.

“She’s very sweet, I really like her. It would make me sad if we could not be together just because she also works with keeping me and my teammates out of trouble,” he said softly, making the reporters coo and the headlines turn from Volleyball manager: Inappropriate moneygrabber to Living our fantasies: Kageyama’s workplace romance.

#haikyu #haikyuu #haikyu x reader #kageyama x reader #kageyama tobio #fanfiction #haikyu fluff #hq x reader #schweiden adlers #kageyama tobio x reader

[jeonghantis]

hehe since ur requests are open, is it okay to request a scenario with joshua? i've been missing him tons lately ahdhsq

how do you think he would deal with getting all pent up when he's overseas or touring around while his s/o is back home? would he prefer sexting, phone sex, or a full on video call 😭

ofc you can choose to ignore this if it's too much dw !!

✧ — MENACE! (h.js)

PAIRING ⇝ hong jisoo x reader.

TAGS ⇝ established relationship, smut, idol!joshua.

WARNINGS ⇝ language, gn!reader but with female parts & wears lingerie, use of the petname "baby", explicit sexual content (MINORS, DNI!).

WORD COUNT ⇝ 2.4k words.

note: kai.. :) here’s the thing, i do think with joshua would be up for any of those but sexting would probably be the most used out of them all. but here's a little peek into the development from sexting to video calls. i hope this'll help lift ur mood a lil. ♡ i hope you all enjoy! and and god i wish i could better format the texts but i hope it's not too confusing!

reblogs & comments are very much appreciated.

explicit warnings under the cut.

EXPLICIT WARNINGS ⇝ sexting, filmed masturbation (f & m), use of rabbit vibrator (f), pillow humping (m), squirting, cum shot, wap (wet ass pussy) reader, spit as lube, mentions of orgasm denial, mentions of penetrative sex, alludes to dom!shua (he can be cruel and teasing :) )

Joshua saw red.

It was not out of anger. It was much on the contrary.

Red lingerie. New red lingerie laced itself around your body, hugging and accentuating your curves in all the right ways. You sat on the edge of your bed with legs spread wide and the flimsy excuse of a thong you wore left little to his imagination. There was a smug expression on your face, and in your hand was something he recognized with ease. It was a violet rabbit vibrator, a gift he had given you and one he had intended to use on you himself.

Joshua saw red, a little bit of it now out of anger, for this image of you was not happening in real time before him, but on the tiny screen of his phone.

My Love: hi, darling! by the time you see this, you must be so exhausted from your concert. i could not be more proud of you for working as hard as you do :(( so i thought i might reward you &lt;3

My Love: Sent a video.

Joshua didn't waste any more breaths and pressed play. 

“Hi, baby,” your voice floats immediately from the phone speakers and fills the air of his much too empty hotel room, tone sultry and lilted. You were smiling and waving around the vibrator in front of the camera. “I thought you’d like to see me try out your gift for the first time.”

“Well, shit.” Joshua lets out a baffled laugh and adjusts himself on the couch, leaning back and spreading his legs wide as if to alleviate the building pressure between them. He could pull his sweats down, but thought better of it. He might have much better plans after. 

Keen and hungry eyes watch your every movement. It’s unfaltering when you pull your thong to your side and bring the toy to your cunt already slicked and glistening to which Joshua could assume you had prepped yourself beforehand with your own fingers and the imagery didn’t help his waning sanity. As you begin to tease yourself and rub the blunt tip all over your slit, he catches a glimpse of your fluttering hole, grasping desperately at nothing. He remembered once how he had laughed at the sight, at your mewling, when he had denied you of your orgasm after fingering you so close to the edge. He had laughed again when he sheathed his cock inside you not long after, feeling that delicious pulse of your warm channel around him. 

Joshua was very far from laughing now.

You finally slip the toy inside, and a long, strained moan is pulled from your lips. It looked like a tight fit and his eyes twitched at the thought and how it was just a thought to him. But he was proved correct when he caught the tremble of your thighs, your chest rising and falling with choppy breaths. And yet despite it, you’re still continuing to push the entire length of the toy inside until the handle is the only thing left protruding out of you. Regardless of the obvious discomfort twisting your features and the sweat beading along your hairline, there’s still a wicked curl of lip when you look back up at the camera, a flicker of pride, of challenge, in your darkened gaze. It stirred something warm deep in his guts.

Then, he hears a faint click, a buzz, and another moan right out of you. 

Time was a muddled construct from then on.

Joshua only watched you fuck yourself with his gift, watched you slowly lose yourself over some mere piece of silicone. At some point, you fell flat on your back and he’s dismayed by your hidden face, but easily distracted when your feet prop themselves up wide apart, sole flat on the mattress. Now, he’s blessed by a much clearer and utter sinful view of how well your puffy cunt swallows up the toy, it becoming a blur of violet as it pumps in and out at a quickening pace. 

And the fucking sounds. It was so wet. You were so wet, the squelches echoing in his ears with every other thrust made. More than that, your incoherent moanings had slowly formed into words—some swears, others pleas, but what rang deep in his bones were the airy mutterings of his name.

“Joshua,” you groan during one particularly hard thrust made.

He chewed on his bottom lip hard.

“S-Shua!” you cried, sharp and high, when your hips jerked up into the toy.

He threw a palm against his crotch.

Then it all ends too soon.

With a shattered wail, you yank the vibrator out of you and a gush of clear fluids spurt right out. You’re a whimpering mess. A hand reached down to rub fast circles on your clit as you wade through your pleasure, your lower frame stuttering up into it, your legs maddened with violent tremors. His name continues to fall out of your lips like a breathy mantra, like it was the only word you knew.

Joshua clicks his phone shut, places it on the table, and takes in a breath.

“Fuck.”

You might have pushed him too far with this, but in all fairness, your beloved, ever-so-sweet, and loving boyfriend Joshua has been nothing short of an absolute menace of a man since he had left for tour. Very often since his departure, nearly every single day, he has plagued you with texts filled with his lewd thoughts. You did love it, of course you did when it showed that Joshua still thought of you often and felt your absence just as much you did with his. But with the time difference, while he texts you during his evenings, you’d receive it in the mornings where you’d be drowning in your schedules. 

shua! ♡ : You’re working?

shua! ♡ : What a shame :(( i was going to talk about how i want to fuck your tight little pussy just now :(( 

It still didn’t stop him from describing the imagery with very explicit details.

The days of missing him grew even more unbearable. You knew Joshua found delight in this and was probably cackling away in his hotel bed at your frustrations. But you also knew despite the front he puts up, Joshua was just as sexually repressed and wound up as you, or he wouldn't have bothered with this stint. Why not try to play him at his own games?

So, you did. A free day came in your schedule and you bought some new lingerie sets and shot your little video with Joshua's gift that lay unused in a drawer. You had your fun playing with yourself, imagining it was Joshua himself fucking your tight little pussy open. You were very pleased with yourself when you sent the video off, then you went on about your day like normal, or as normal can be with anticipation a steady simmer in your stomach.

Then came his response.

shua! ♡ : You think you can get away with this? :) 

you: i have no idea what you’re talking about :) it’s a gift to repay you for your gift!

shua! ♡ : Sent a video.

shua! ♡ : Here’s to repay you for your repayment :)

you: ..oh no

The thumbnail of his video was less crude than yours. It was a full view of his unmade hotel bed. Joshua was nowhere in sight. Somehow this was a little more nerve wracking than your stunt. 

With a pounding heart, you pressed play.

It’s eerily silent for the first few seconds, you could practically hear your own pulse thundering in your ears. Then there’s a rustle, a sigh, then Joshua comes into frame. He greets the camera with that sweet smile of his as he climbs up his bed. A black muscle tee fitted around his sculpted body, his toned biceps on full display. Then below –

Joshua wore absolutely nothing down below—no pants, not even underwear. His dick stood proudly, curved and bumping against his stomach. 

A knowing, smug expression crosses his face as if he could see you through this video, and he takes his position, kneeling right in the middle of the bed.

“You drive me absolutely insane,” he said before spitting right into his hand. “Was the toy any better than my dick? Did it satisfy you?”

You let out a shaky breath just as he did too when his long fingers wrap around himself. He lathers the length of him in his own saliva and spares a little more every now and then, letting a string of spit thread down directly from his lips. You were too familiar with the gradual rhythm he set, with how his wrist twists a little more forcefully when he reaches the tip. It was the set of movements he particularly liked, the one that’s quick to pull airy grunts from him. 

I could survive through this, you think to yourself, pressing your thighs together to temper the growing ache in between. You’ve given him handjobs before to expect what expressions would come about, what noises he'd come to make. This was fine.

But Joshua reaches for a pillow, and now you think all is doomed. This was absolutely far from what you were expecting. This explained the angle in which the camera was set up.

“It’s sad that I don’t have anything to replace you,” he clicks his tongue in disappointment, and places the pillow before him. “But I will have to make do.”

With growing horror (delight?), you watch with wide eyes as Joshua leans himself down, leveraging himself up with his arms, and starts to rut down against the cushion.

“y/n,” your lover grunts out. “Oh fuck, that’s good.”

Joshua lifts the bottom of his shirt up to bite on, revealing the chiseled lines of his torso, before he’s easing himself down until he’s laying flat on stomach. His thrusts are shallow, the muscles of thigh twitching and straining, and so are his breaths, muffled but gradually rising in volume. The pinkish tip of him peeks from where it's wedged in between and rubbing up against his hardened stomach, and you catch just the faintest rivulet leak from its slit, slipping down and staining the pillow’s white casing. 

The pressure was soon not enough, you knew. The rising frustration was evident in how often he adjusts his position and the pillow, and how deeper and urgent his grinds became.

"Who am I kidding?" Joshua says with a dry laugh, pulling the shirt off of him and shucking it into an unknown corner of his room. "Nothing will come close to how your cunt feels around me."

Your core gives a euphoric throb at that and you press a palm against yourself with the softest sigh slipping from your lips.

Joshua, in the seemingly hopeless face of it all, is still trying anyway, seeking for some pleasure in this measly, soft thing. There had been a moment where you had thought he had given in when he sat back up and wrapped his hand around his throbbing girth again; perhaps he really had when he looked absolutely lose in the fast, blissful strokes made by the tight ring of his fingers. With fluttering eyelids and head thrown back, the first, more earnest moans falls from his lips, and before you thought he might be reaching a new high, Joshua drops back down on the pillow and rides the hell out of it once more, pursuing that same pace his hand had.

It was rare to see this frustrated desperation from him ever. Oh, how you loved to see how quickly his cool composure falls apart, ravaged the sight of his trembling body and sudden incoordination of all his limbs. Yet even with this smugness, you absolutely could not help this tang of envy that came with it, the longing ache for him only burrowing deeper. You wished you could witness this in real life, wished you felt his desperation thrusting inside you. You missed the warmth of his body, missed him.

Just how fucking long was this tour again? Holy shit.

You had been too distracted by your own yearning that you almost missed Joshua coming undone. It's his loud groan that yanks your focus back to the screen—loud groans of your name.

"I'm so close, fuck -" Joshua rambles on and scrambles to perch himself back up on his hands so you're given a full view of length gliding along heedlessly against the cushion, his hips stammering and losing rhythm. "I n-need you so bad, y/n. You have no idea how much I need you right now. Fuck, I miss you so bad. I'm going to come. I'm going to - "

Your name is punched out of his chest when white spurts out from his twitching cock. The spasms of his muscles were so visible, with each quaver gushing a little more of his cum out, the stain on the pillow only spreading from there. And Joshua is still riding out this high with languid ruts, coating his girth in his own glistening fluids until he gradually softens up.

After a few panted breaths from him, Joshua draws back and sits on his legs. He takes a moment to inspect the sight of his own mess, then his head tilts up at the camera and a tired smile pulls his lips. For a single beat, you stare at each other and even though you actually weren't, you still felt the weight of his gaze, a ripple of something crawling down your spine. Without any word but with that continuing smile, Joshua moves for his phone and shuts it off, leaving you in the deafening silence of your bedroom.

you: holy fuck, joshua.

shua! ♡: Yeah? You liked it? :)

you: absolutely not

shua! ♡: ?

shua! ♡: What really?

you: i absolutely loved it

shua! ♡: Could you maybe not do that? I was so fucking nervous the whole time

you: aw, my baby nervous? :(

shua! ♡: ...Yeah okay.

you: hehe :) i love you

shua! ♡: And I love you

shua! ♡: I have some thoughts though :)

you: oh no. STILL?!

you: WERE THOSE VIDEOS NOT ENOUGH?!

shua! ♡: Not at all :D

shua! ♡: Do you want to hear it?

you: fine

shua! ♡: Sent a link

shua! ♡: I bought you this :)

you: is this

you: a long distance vibrator...

shua! ♡: Yeah :)

shua! ♡: I want to see you play with yourself on call next time

shua! ♡: While I take control :)

you: fuck

you: of course you do

shua! ♡: Yeah :)

you: you're a menace

shua! ♡: And you love that about me

you: that i unfortunately do

shua! ♡: ❤️

shua! ♡: Tell me when it arrives, baby

shua! ♡: We'll have our fun together again :)

© circlesol. all rights reserved. do not re-publish, translate, plagiarise, edit any of my work on any other platform.

#seventeen smut #svt smut #seventeen fanfic #joshua smut #hong joshua smut #joshua fanfic #keir.rqst #hong jisoo smut #hong jisoo fanfic

[roronoaswifey]

hi could we get some tattoo artist!law nsfw headcanons?? i saw timi’s art work for him and i’ve just got the feeling you’d write him so amazingly!

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐎𝐎 𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐓!𝐋𝐀𝐖

pairing. trafalgar law x black!fem!reader

warnings/tags. explicit content, foul language, substance consumption, reader has dermal piercings + other tattoos, pussy eating, cunningulus, overstimulation, implied breeding *not encouraging….maybe*, trafalgar law can’t handle pussy, what else is new

kazu’s note. timi’s work if you haven’t seen it yet 🌚

𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐎𝐎 𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐓!𝐋𝐀𝐖 𝐖𝐇𝐎…

never expected somebody like yourself to be in any way connected to luffy. when the younger boy had messaged law a simple “client on the way! :D”, the tattoo artist had expected the worst of the worst. anybody affiliated to luffy gave him an irritating throb in his temple, and even if he wanted to refuse their requests, his morals as an artist never allowed him. so when the sound of chiming from the front door echoed in the shop, he bit back a groan as he mentally prepared himself for the blunt he’d desperately need afterwards.

for the first time in a cool minute, felt his tongue heavy in his throat at the sight of you. pushing past the door, you stepped inside the shop, curvy body snug in a low rise cargo miniskirt and bikini top, your inked skin shining through the golden rays of the sunset behind you. you looked majestic, knotless braids freshly done and with one push of your hair behind your shoulder, law felt his gut pool with arousal.

is taken aback by your sparky personality. you’re not as reckless or loud and smitten as the rest of luffy’s friends, but instead sport a very bored look. your rest in bitch face oddly sets him at ease, giving him sense of security that he may not indeed need to smoke to settle his nerves (though nothing beats a blunt after a long day of work). “you law?” you greet him after a small ‘hey’ and he nods and pats the lengthy chair, not trusting his unsteady vocal chords as all that runs through his mind is how can you be this pretty?

who takes admittedly longer than required to prep your soft skin for the tattoo. you’d shown him a design of words in arabic that you wanted tatted on your spine, and though he wasn’t the most religious person, law simultaneously thanked yet cursed god that he wouldn’t be facing you because it’s one thing to rejoice that you’d be missing the soft pink blush resting at his cheeks at your very revealing outfit, but it’s another having your plump ass peaking right through the miniskirt. maybe the blunt would be needed after all, he thinks as he cleanses your skin and shaves off body hairs to smoothen the process.

can’t help but grin when you ask him to take a hit of his blunt. he wasn’t sure how you’d feel about an artist smoking during his work hours but when you tilted your head at the sound of his lighter sparking up the blunt, a familiar earthy scent filling your senses, the blunt quickly left his mouth in favour of yours. he watched in a mix of awe and confusion as you inhaled deeply, ghosted the cloud of smoke before puffing it out. “‘for the nerves,” was your excuse, placing the spliff back in his parted lips, and laying back on your chest. law nearly felt himself choke on the smoke at the recoil of your ass beneath your thin bottom, slacks growing suspiciously tight as he mentally cursed his own body for the betrayal. lack of pussy, he figured he could blame it on.

with the course of time, alters between sharing his blunt with you. whenever he finds he could use a hit, you stretch your arm back to pass it back to him, and whenever he’s deemed relax, passes it back to you. small talk grows rapidly, as he does his best to keep it as professional as he can (though the smoking contradicts his point) while attempting to keep you entertained. he isn’t confident he’s doing a good job, but you are luffy’s friend after all, so he isn’t surprised you can hold up his lame attempt at conversing.

who isn’t sure if he’s finally gone mad, or maybe just really fucking high, but his almost positive you keep purposely pushing your ass onto him. he’s finished the design, intentionally making sure to not injure or infect the dermals on the dimples of your lower back, but good heavenly lord, your miniskirt rose up the curves of your ass along the inking process and with the weed infiltrating his system, he’s so fucking horny, wanting nothing more than to lay you down and beat the shit out of your pussy— to which, if were a perverted shit, one good lean back in his seat and the outline of your flesh through your thong would be clear as day.

whose suspicions are finally answered the second he vocally announces he’s finished his job. with wrap surrounding your fresh tattoo, his hands linger a bit longer, relishing in the last bit of an opportunity he’d have to hold you before letting you go for good. to his surprise, you stretch an arm out behind you, tilting your head to the side to catch a glimpse of him through your lash extensions and reddened low-lidded eyes, whispers of pleads for him to touch you a little lower.

doesn’t want to push his luck, so he gulps and lets his calloused thumbs caress your smooth brown skin, trailing from the back of your thighs, shaping at any old ink carved in, at any stretch mark that shaped your body, the the crease beneath the cup of your ass that caused the shelf it did. he’s so tempted to push your miniskirt up and watch what he’d imagine of your glistening pussy through your flimsy thong, the fat flesh poking through the material. the thought alone has him biting back a groan, holding these urges back for his sanity and yours. though, clearly you couldn’t give a fuck less about anyone’s sanity, as you intentionally raise your hips during the trailing of his thumb on your skin, forcing his thumb to slip in the warm crevice between your thighs.

finally lets go and swiftly creases your skirt up to your hips. the recoil of your ass set from the intense impact has him groaning, guts swarming in hot arousal, and not even his wildest dreams would’ve prepared him for the sight of your fat cunt. the pad of your panties drenched in your slick, he sees your pussy clenching at nothing, he hears you moaning softly with a sweet arch to your back, and he wants to feel more of you.

relishes in your pretty moans as you fist and clench at anything within the vicinity of your hands. with your thong lowered to the back of your knees, his mouth latched at your lower lips and licked, sucked, tugged, nibbled with precision, so long as he kept hearing you whine and moan, pushing your cheeks back into his face. he’s probably running short on oxygen, nose stuffed in the crack of your ass but he figures he could die a happy man this way. you taste as good as you smell, possibly even better, that he can’t help the slip of fingers E and A in your cunt, simultaneously working his tongue at your folds while fucking into you with long and thick digits, scissoring you open in hopes to find that gummy spot that’ll have you spraying him in your essence.

who drinks you up quicker than you can finish moaning ‘oh fuck baby’ and wastes no time to fumble with his pants. he’s not sure how he managed to not cum in his briefs at the sight of you alone, but the sheer realization that his bottoms were still on made the possibility likely to happen. he finds himself before you, avoiding to have you do any unnecessary movement, as he pumps his brick hard dick in his tattooed hands, and watches your tired eyes shimmer at the sight of his drooling dick alone.

who groans pathetically at the first slip of his tip in between your plump lips, the warm wetness of your mouth sucking him in for what he’s worth as your tongue swirls around the salty skin of his dick. his hips push in and out your mouth slowly, wanting to ease into this naturally before fucking your mouth senseless, but gods with the way you keep humming around his tip, an guided hand pumping what you couldn’t reach for measure, with a pool of saliva gathering at the base of his cock and beneath your vice claw grip on his dick, he’s holding onto a thin thread of sanity, torn between wanting to respect you and let you take your time or rutting his hips and shoving his tip down the back of your throat, making use of you as he finishes himself off in your mouth. it isn’t long before he’s got a hand at the back of your neck, and the sinful sound of you attempting to keep up with his rapid thrusts in your mouth, the squelches of your plump lips and saliva on his lubed dick echoing in the room, that he releases a guttural moan with a head thrown back, painting your mouth white with him. he taps his dick onto your tongue for good measures, assuring you swallowed every last drop.

whose dick hardens painfully quick as soon as he feels you reaching for the base of his dick, and lining it at your sopping entrance. chest laid flat on the chair with your ass in the air, he eases the process by swiftly pushing his hips into your ass, dick slowly getting engulfed by your tight pussy and not even brent faiyaz’s vocals could outmatch the harmony in both your ranges of moans. your hand left his dick the second he bottomed out, in favour of holding at his hips, pushing and pulling him back in, clearly eager for this as badly as he was. though through gritted teeth, he breathed deeply and intensely as he pulled back out, your pussy lips latching at his tip so desperately, before he slams back down, your body jerking from the forceful impact and you whine, pushing your hips back into him for a better feel. the sex gradually quickens, his tattooed arms caging your head at the sides, fucking you like it’s his last resort for air, hips angling to the side as he pounds into your pussy. your ass jiggles like jello against him, mouth muffled by his thigh fingers as you lay down and take whatever the hell he gives you. your eyes roll back uncontrollably at a certain shift of his hips, and law decides he wants to see you do that again, so he relentlessly ruts into that spot that had you blacking out.

who turns you on your side, still weary about your back but is on the brink of losing it if he holds back any longer, lifts a leg up onto his shoulder, and starts to pound into you with a new angle. this position has him seeing stars, already feeling pussy drunk as your wetness engulfs him whole, sucks him in greedily. you’re not better, laid flat as your boobs move in clockwise rotations from the slamming of his hips into your ass. he’s got a tight grip on your plush thigh, his other hand thumbing at your neglected clit, flicking and playing with the nub in hopes of drawing you in closer to the orgasm he feels himself approach. the leg he holds soon begins to shake, and he knows you’re getting close, your jaw slack and babbles spilling past your lips, the most he’s heard you speak in this entire session. he’s tempted to lean forward and finally catch your lips on his, the one thing he hasn’t managed to do so far, but his mind is soon clouded with other thoughts, such as making sure you get to that desired high around the same time he does. and you both do, your back arching as you clamp impossibly tighter down his cock, milking him dry of every seed left in his heavy balls, shooting his loads in your cunt, spraying your walls in his essence, while you spray his balls and thighs in your sweet liquids yet again.

notices the room has gotten quiet after he’s been sated of the lack of pussy he’s practically self diagnosed himself with. you’re on your stomach, body still shuddering from the intense pleasure that hit you like a wave, and law can’t help the tongue that licks your pussy clean, lapping up any evidence left of what you guys had done in this room. your broken moans sound downright pathetic, shaking in overstimulation as law finds himself back on his knees, thumbs spreading your ass cheeks apart and licking into your pussy yet again. he couldn’t help it, you tasted heavenly and he was a greedy bastard. he ignored your pleads, in favour for the hand tugging at his messy locks, your leg thrown over his shoulder as you watched him from the middle of your thighs ravage you like his last meal. his golden eyes never letting go of eye contact with you, his tongue flicked at your clit, spread your folds and feasted on your spent out cunt. didn’t take as much effort this time to be gifted with his favorite drink, as he greedily moans and gulps down everything you give him.

who, after making sure you’ve been decently wiped and hydrated after having fucked you dumb, finds himself feeling hollow despite having the fuck of his life. had it been your previous conversations? or was it when he had you face down and ass up? what was it that suddenly made him realize he did not want you to walk out that door for good? he doesn’t have much time to think as you limp up to the cashier register and await him there. he then realizes you expect him to charge you for the tattoo, as if your pussy wasn’t worth all the riches in this forsaken world. he grunts a low ‘on the house’, betraying yet again another ethical artist moral, but he soon found himself realizing there’s a lot more of rules he’d bend just for you. you look at him with a smirk, almost having expected that answer. you reach in your mini purse regardless, and pull out a 50$, old receipt and pen. you lay flat all objects on the counter, quickly writing something down on the receipt, before pushing it closer near the register. he’s shocked at the hug you give him afterwards, a strong whiff of your previous activities lingering on your scent glands with a mixture of your own fragrance, and he can’t help the soft inhale he does in the crook of your neck, arms tightening around your waist as he holds you back.

who flushed pink in embarrassment when you pull away from the hug just slightly, now face to face as you glossy lips gently kissing his own ones, mumbling a soft ‘see you soon’ with another soft kiss at the corner of his lips, and he barely registers you left the tattoo parlour, the chimes at the door ringing their melody as the soft thrumming of his heart pounds against his chest, throat dry and now glossy lips tugging into a lovesick smile. though he’s slightly irritated that you still left a tip when he insisted it was free of charge, he picks up the receipt you left, eyes scanning over the message you left: ‘tip for a tip ;) call me back whenever, hot stuff, xoxo y/n <3’ and he’s never ran as fast in his life to his phone plugged into the wall, a chuckle rumbling from his chest, feeling uncharacteristically giddy at the thought that you wanted to see him again too.

i love this man so much it’s insane. also this took much longer than expected, my baddd 🦦

#roronoaswifey.exe #kazuha’s works 📂 #‘thinking bout’ series #one piece #one piece smut #trafalgar law x black reader #trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgar law smut #x reader

[heretherebedork]

The way Ai Di looks up with the most done expression on his face ever before anything even happens. This boy is amazing. Also, still collared. Because he knows what's going on.

I knew it was coming and I still made an illegal sound. Chenyi is an idiot but at least he's an idiot in love now. This boy is so bad. He is in love and he has no idea what to do with that fact except, you know, be in love.

I would not want to be on the receiving end of that look. This is a very frustrated and confused feral murder bunny who just wants answers and was instead given a pillow. Which does not have any answers in it.

I love Ai Di so much because, frankly, I think he likes the pillow in his own way. It's just that his own way also doesn't allow for this because he needs answers, not more confusion.

Of course he takes the worst possible meaning from the gift because, without context or an agreed upon relationship, this is just plain confusing. Especially for feral murder bunnies who need direct communication because everything else is just frustrating.

Ai Di wants everything blunt and straightforward and Chenyi is trying to woo him with advice meant for other people for the man he loves.

You know what, I get why this guy has been so awkward this whole time. He's been listening to Chenyi pine for four years and giving advice only to realize his boss is an idiot when it comes to romance. And now he's in the position of already giving advice to someone who is not gonna follow it.

But also the way Ai Di looks at the pillow. Oh, he'd love that pillow if he wasn't so convinced it was an insult.

(Thought he'd definitely prefer it if Chenyi had slept with it a few nights before giving it to him. The scent of him is so obviously comforting to him.)

The pain of realizing how unromantic the man you love can be is real.

He is such a baby idiot and I love him.

This is the greatest scene ever because there's this moment when you realize that something you thought was obvious isn't and you somehow have to explain this to someone and you just don't know how to put it into words because it's so obvious.

That is the face of the man who has never had a thought in his head that wasn't either a plan for a crime or a dirty dream about Ai Di.

There is not a thought in Chenyi's head at this point. Nothing. His head is entirely empty save for crime and Ai Di. The problem is that makes convincing Ai Di he loves him so much harder. Because he needs to convince Ai Di he loves him.

Okay, I love this man. Don't care. He can do whatever he wants. I love him.

#kiseki: dear to me #kiseki dear to me #ai di x chen yi #taiwanese drama #chen yi x ai di #taiwan bl #bl drama #bl series #asianlgbtqdramas #asian lgbtq dramas #kdtm #taiwan drama #taiwanese bl #taiwanese series #taiwanese bl series #taiwanese bl drama #ugh i love them

[euorian-pdf]

Pt. 2"눈을 보고 말할래요. "보고 싶었어요"

⋆｡˚୨୧˚｡⋆synopsis: you're living your best life, leaving everything behind in the past however a small 'family' gathering at Levi's home threatens to unfold everything.

⋆｡˚୨୧˚｡⋆contains: modern au! everyone, Levi's mom and uncle are alive in this au, mentions of swearing but not actual swearing, Carla is also alive, Eren's dad is absent, mentions of medication.

⋆｡˚୨୧˚｡⋆wc: 9.8K.

⋆｡˚୨୧˚｡⋆tw: swearing, mentions of pills, medication use and brief manipulation.

⋆｡˚୨୧˚｡⋆ Here is 1 and 3

Life is going great.

You're done with finals, you're graduating in a few weeks, and you've prepared your graduation gown and a bucket list of all the places you'd like to visit during your friend group trip to the country you've always wanted to travel to.

You've made new friends, such good loving friends. You love them like a relative, like a long lost possession about to bid its goodbye once more. You cherish the time you spend with them and they've shown you that they feel the exact same way. 

All of you get along so well, you find joy and solace in each other's company, and the laughter is actually genuine. It's a huge contrast to the previous chapter of your life, where toxicity and ugly attitudes were all you knew about friendships. Now, the warmth of genuine friendships surrounds you. And you couldn't be more grateful.

You've also fallen in love with composing songs and soundtracks, which was originally brought up by a friend of yours after they saw you playing around with a launchpad and they started grooving crazily to the beat you made up on the spot and other times you created melodies that made them cry.

So now, you part-time compose soundtracks for this new uprising director, Levi Ackerman. He's French-Japanese, very well-known in the film industry and you may or may not have the biggest crush on him. He's blunt, reserved, stoic, and loaded with creativity. Nowadays, you are working on his breakthrough project, his films create a canvas for your musical symphonies and all of this wouldn't have happened if your friends didn't lovingly force you to email him your samples.

Honestly, they are your biggest hype-mans, your number-one fans, and your admirers. They tell you that you're so talented that if you released some of your music, you'd be winning awards left to right. But you don't think they'll believe you if you tell them.

You have won awards, plenty of them, more than you can count however the problem is you've won them indirectly. 

4 years have passed ever since you went no contact with your 'old friends' and in those 4 years while you were living your best life, working hard to get to where you are right now, they have become popular and not just '10K popular and one viral hit' popular, we're talking about '10 million albums sold, a world tour (and another one coming up), Billboard's most weeks on chart, surpassing world legends and 3 Grammys' popular. Connie on the other hand became a YouTuber and he's amassed a total of 13M subscribers and Historia started a fashion company on par with the leading designers of today.

Half of the songs on their albums that supposedly broke the charts were produced by none other than...you. Most of the ideas on Connie's YouTube channel were brainstormed by the both of you and you see familiar designs on the clothes that celebrities wear because it was you who created that blueprint.

The last two you can't take much credit for but for the songs? Your compositions, your melodies which you have poured all your soul into, have become the backdrop of their meteoric rise. 

You don't know how to feel, everything seems so bittersweet.

On one hand, there's pride in your work being recognized on such a grand scale. On the other, there's the confusion and overall sense of unease that comes with the realization.

You had so many questions surrounding this topic such as, 'Why didn't they credit you' and 'Did they do it on purpose or was it accidental'

After all, no one knows where you are, you are left with no information, you cut off everyone and now that you think it through, realistically there was no way to credit you.

While curious about their whole uprise to fame, you remind yourself that although you do deserve the credit and the fame, it's not what you're looking for right now. You've got a different helmet on and if you have to regain contact with them to gain your rightfully so credit, they might as well keep it.

You are interrupted from your session of zoning out by a p!ng, an email pops up on your computer with the subject being Urgent and the sender being Levi Ackerman.

Urgent:

come over.

You've grown accustomed to his antics by now, as you have been working together for about 2 years now. If he says 'It's urgent' it's very likely that it's just 'I don't want to ask anyone else because it's embarrassing so I'll ask you'

So you reply back with a call, smiling to yourself as you decide to tease him a little. After the 5th ring, he picks up which is funny considering he's just staring at the phone ringing until he deems it's the right ring to answer to seem like he was busy.

"What?" He asks sighing as if he has better things to do with his time.

"Oh no, it's nothing. I'm just wondering when you'll switch to texting because I can't really keep up with fossils" you reply trying to get a rise out of him.

"The only thing fossil is your humour" He retorts unfazed as he sips on something in the background, obviously tea.

"Are you sure it's not your age, I'm pretty sure you were friends with Aurelius at one point"

"Cute, are you sure it's not your personality, I'm sure I've met thousands of people with the exact same everything as you."

"Ouch, I didn't deserve that" you reply, feigning hurt in your voice when you're actually just joking. 

"So what do you need? What is so urgent" you ask, curious of what it is this time.

"Come over and you'll know" He responds curtly and before you can respond, he hangs up on you. You scoff, internally noting to give him an earful when you get to his place. You roll your eyes at his attitude, his characteristic not unfamiliar to you.

With a quick text to your roommate, you inform her about your plans for the night and that food is in the fridge. Anticipating her lack of response due to her own night out partying, you head out, leaving the message to be read by her whenever she can.

Levi's home is a 15-minute drive from your apartment, he lives in the middle of the very fashioned neighborhood. Despite being full of creativity and the creator of films that have everyone on the edge of their seat, the man can't design his house at all. He has the design of a monochromatic minimalist, with no sign of color anywhere, you can't stand it. Everything is grey there, you feel the color getting sucked out of you when you enter his house. 

Finally, you arrive there quickly enough as the road to his neighborhood is quite deserted. You struggle to park the car in his driveway as it's very narrow but after a few minutes, you manage.

Guess rich people don't leave their houses, you think as you ring the doorbell to his house.

He opens the door and stands there with his nth cup of tea somewhat observing you before telling you 'You know the drill, I'll be in the office'.

Ah, the drill, how could you forget? You give him a sarcastic smile before watching him walk off and adhere to the so-called drill.

You have to take off your shoes, put them in a disinfectant bag, seal it up, and hang it on the shoe rack. As well as disinfecting your hands twice and hanging your coat and bag on a coat rack where you clean it both with some weird lint roller he has. You don't mind it really, it is his house after all.

After doing all that, you put on some guest slippers and head to his office. The house hasn't changed since your last visit, it's almost vibrating with greyness. You feel like smiling is forbidden, which may be, in the comfort of his home.

You turn a corner and see him sitting in his office chair playing back parts of his last movie and writing notes on how to improve. The mood would be better if the office had some sort of personality to it but no, this is an asylum.

"You know I recently came across a color palette, and it immediately reminded me of you, It was more on the brown side, with beautiful shades of wood, warm earth tones, and hints of amber." You share with Levi, attempting to bring a touch of color into the monochromatic conversation.

"There were even hints of grey" You add to gain his curiosity after he seems to have ignored you at the first attempt at making conversation.

Levi raises an eyebrow and stares at you through the rim of his glasses, clearly unimpressed by the mention of color invading his sanctuary of grayscale. "Why would a color palette remind you of me?" he questions, his tone conveying sarcasm and a hint of curiosity.

You chuckle, finding his reaction predictable. "Well, it had a certain rugged elegance like someone I know and also because I think it would suit you"

He rolls his eyes and scoffs, a faint trace of a sarcastic smirk playing on his lips. He gets up from his desk to head towards the office cabinet. "Flattery won't change my stance, I like how things are just fine. "

"I don't know what kind of colour trauma you've obtained during your centuries of living but to each their own, I guess" You joke smiling widely as he deadpans at your joke of his age before you change the subject and look upon where he's going. He has a teacup collection in his office cabinet, you think but shrug it off instantly as it kind of makes sense for the tea-addict man to have a teacup collection. The cabinet seems to be reserved for just tea, teacups, teabags, tea flavors, and even tea scents. Perhaps he was a teashop owner in another life.

He pours the pre-made fresh tea into one of the cups and places it before you, "So now that I'm here, what do you want?" 

He puts his pen down and takes off his reading glasses, before interlocking his fingers and taking a more serious stance. You honestly think he's about to fire you but his glint seems a bit more personal.

"I need a plus one" he finally admits as if it was the hardest thing ever.

Your eyes widen in surprise at Levi's unexpected request for a plus one. Your lips barely touch the cup's rim and decide to taste it later for fear of choking on your tea. His usually stern demeanor seems to soften for a moment, revealing a side of him that isn't often on display.

"But for two events, one personal and the other official." He continues.

"Personal, as in you wanna ask me out?" you ask, totally confused because that makes no sense.

"Tsk, no you idiot, maybe let me finish next time" He interjected quickly hands discreetly covering his ears at the tiniest blush that formed at the tip of them.

You become flustered at the abrupt response, slightly embarrassed by your assumption. "Maybe don't take prehistoric pauses between sentences. What's the personal event?"

He takes a moment to regain his composure, the brief flicker of a curious glint in his eyes indicating that he might be enjoying the misunderstanding on your end. "The personal one is a family gathering, My mother wants me to be the host of the family gathering this month."

"And I come in where?"

"I usually stay isolated in my room because I can't stand the whole mood of the place, it's too chatty and noisy but now I have to host." He tsks shaking his head at the memory of the last family gathering.

"And you don't know how to, so you want my help?"

Levi nods, his expression serious. "In short, yes."

"Right, yeah so I still don't understand. Why don't you pick someone else, someone who you're already comfortable with" You ask, not knowing why he's asking you when he has a few friends of his own.

"Who says I'm not comfortable with you?" Levi gives you an incredulous look as if your question is absurd and the answer is obvious.

You can't help but raise an eyebrow at Levi's unexpected response. "Comfortable with me? You've been scowling at me since we met."

Levi offers a nonchalant shrug. "It's my default expression. I'm not a people person. You're the least annoying person I've met so far."

"um, thanks, I guess?" 

Levi nods, his acknowledgment devoid of any neutrality. "Don't read too much into it."

You can't tell if he's being sarcastic or genuinely expressing a form of acceptance. Either way, you decide not to dwell on it too much. Levi is known for his stoic demeanor, and deciphering his feelings is like trying to read ancient hieroglyphs, so it's best not to read too much into it.

"Okay, and for the official one?" 

"The official one," Levi starts, "is an award ceremony. One of my films is nominated for a few categories, and my presence is required as a formality."

"Congratulations? But then again you're not fond of award ceremonies, are you?" You nearly get up from your seat to give him a hug but refrain from doing so not wanting to cross any boundaries.

"Yeah, I couldn't care less, stupid pricks think they have the authority to judge whose art is superior. It's fucking bullshit" Levi's expression turns sour as he expresses his disdain for the award ceremony.

You sense the bitterness in his words while taking a sip of your tea and savoring the taste with a pleased hum, you realize that the world of awards and recognition might not be as glamorous and fulfilling as it seems. "I get it, awards don't define the value of your work. It's about the impact you make and the stories you tell, but you have to attend so that you gain the recognition you need and deserve, makes sense."

Levi nods in agreement, feeling warmth seeping through him as you are fond of the tea he brewed. "Exactly. Anyway, they're announcing the nominations for soundtracks too so keep an eye out for that."

"Yeah okay, that's cool, but also nerve-wracking" you admit already feeling the anxiety seeping in at the thought of the ceremony.

"Why? Because there are major actors?"

"No, the cameras, the judgments, the expectations, it all feels overwhelming," you reply, a hint of nervousness in your voice.

Levi gives you a side glance sipping on his tea and finishing what's left, his usual stern expression softening just a tad. "If you believe in your work, that's all that matters. They can go to hell with all their opinions."

You smile and nod, his words making sense as you push away any thoughts of negativity that may increase your anxiety. You think of thoughts to push back the unwanted ones and Levi seems to be the perfect solution. You can't help but stare at Levi, busy again with noting stuff down, his handwriting a mix of scribbles and cursives. How his fingers tend to be very pale and dainty, a taint of red on his knuckles from cracking them too much. How his hair falls on his face makes you want to part them away and tuck the strands behind his ears.

He looks up at you, sharp grey eyes boring into yours, eyebrows raised as a defense mechanism against the gaze you've been holding. You quickly avert your eyes and change your gaze, not wanting him to catch on.

"So which one is first and when is it?" you begin, trying to shift the focus back to the matter at hand.

"Family gathering, tomorrow at 7 pm" He answers.

"Tomorrow? You didn't think to give me a week's notice?"

Levi looks at you with a questioning gaze at your mildly surprised tone. "You and a week's notice is the same as a bouncing ball in a minefield, you'd eventually worry yourself to death with your overthinking tendencies."

"Overthinking is true but the meals need more time. so anything I need to know about the gathering, will I be the only non-family there?" you inquired, curious to know how awkward it will be.

"One, the meals are already prepared by a chef I hired. and two, no, one of my cousins, the brat, brings over all of her friends and it becomes a whole noise-fest, so you wouldn't be the only non-family," he explained, annoyance forming on his face as he recalled the headaches he's endured over the years.

You nod, mentally noting the details. "Got it. And the award ceremony?"

Levi glances at his calendar. "That's in two weeks. You'll need to clear your schedule for the whole day because it's far, the event starts in the evening."

"Alright, I'll make sure I'm available, Anything else I should be prepared for?", you reply, thinking about the preparations you'll need to make for both occasions.

Levi shrugs, "Just the usual chitter-chatter film industry shit. Red carpet, photographers, people pretending to be interested in conversations they're having when really they're full of shit."

You nod, "Got it, it's all just a show."

Levi nods as his facial features lightly soften. "More or less, It's all about appearances, which is why I rarely attend these things willingly."

"Okay, so tomorrow at 7 pm but I should come earlier, right? here at your place, no overthinking and I'm guessing the attire is casual?" You ask listing all the things you're required of.

Levi nods, "Casual is fine. Nothing too fancy and nothing too casual Just don't show up in pajamas, and we should be good."

You smirk teasing him a little, "Okay, I'll save the pajamas for the award ceremony then."

"But wait a minute, what's in this for me?" You ask slyly poking at him to see what he might offer you. You need everything he can offer to give you at this point.

Levi relaxes into his chair and crosses his arms, seemingly intrigued by your banter. "What do you mean, what's in it for you?"

You chuckle, enjoying the banter between you two. "Well, I'm doing you a favor by being your plus one. I think I deserve something in return."

Levi gives you a blank stare, the corners of his lips curling slightly. "And what would that something be?"

You pause for dramatic effect and also because you didn't think he'd play along before responding with a sly grin, "Two things, one, you'll call me by my first name, and two, you owe me dinner"

Levi deadpans at your demands, seemingly unamused. "Call you by your first name? That's negotiable. But dinner, you're practically dreaming."

"That's totally fine you can just forever be in debt."

Levi raises an eyebrow at your response, contemplating your proposal. There's a brief moment of silence, and you can almost sense the gears turning in his stoic demeanor. Finally, he lets out a 'tsk fine', a subtle way of saying 'I can't say no to you so do whatever you want'. You are too oblivious to see the stark contrast in Levi's behavior with you and with others, it's basically night and day. He treats you very differently, and though his stoicism remains, there's a peculiar comfort in the way he interacts with you. It's as if your presence manages to crack the surface of his usual 'idgaf' and 'the world bores me' attitude.

So, you like where you are right now, you like how things are going and you never want this chapter in your life to change. You've found a sense of fulfillment in your work, genuine friendships, and an interesting dynamic with Levi. 

You're content.

Meanwhile on the other hand...

Eren wakes up disheveled, his hair now shorter and his moustache is long gone, shaved out of existence. He stands in the bathroom, already finished brushing his teeth and water droplets falling down his face, a product of washing his face. He looks at the mirror cabinet, deciding whether or not to take his pills. He decides not to, not being bothered to as he feels there's no point to it.

He doesn't want the stability of his moods or the functionality of his routine to actually work. It doesn't mean anything, at least not anymore.

He has two calendars, one plain white that is normal, he uses it to remember certain dates and important interviews that shape his career. The other calendar is reserved for you, your absence to be exact, he crosses out each day that passes without your captivating presence. Today it’s 4 years, 3 months, and 6 days. Every day at 7, he sits down by his desk, grabs both your calendar and his journal, and just writes how much he regrets what he did that day. He's gone through 7 journals so far and he writes for you, to you, and because of you.

He writes about how much he misses the music that used to fill his house when days were hard and he thought he couldn't get through them. How you were so patient and loving and that you didn't deserve anything that he put you through. He writes what reminds him of you, the tulips that bloom in the spring near his mom's house, the cherry blossoms he came across during his tour to Japan, or the jasmines he was gifted by an Indian fan during his trip there. 

Everything comes back to you.

He feels so pathetic, so darn twisted to have said all those things to you, to have pushed you away and the worst part is, he doesn't even know why. He doesn't know whether or not to embrace the memories of your smiles, laughter, and the warmth of your presence or let it haunt him. Eren regrets the days when he let his issues take control and drive you far away from him, the days when he couldn't appreciate the simple joy of your company.

He would give everything to get you back again, but that's selfish of him, he thinks. He wants you to be happy, to live life, and never look back for him. He's torn between wanting you back in his life and acknowledging that it might be better for you to move on. The weight of his actions, the hurt he caused, and the bridge of friendship he destroyed between you and the rest of your friends are heavy burdens he carries.

Connie hates him to this day and rightfully so. So does Jean.

 Eren used a recording of Connie that was taken out of context. The day of that recording was on your birthday and Connie was tired of the plain ol' happy birthday surprise because it wasn't surprising anyone. So he took it upon himself to spice things up. He decided that he'd have a fight with you the day before and the day after that he'd make a fake recording of him saying horrible things and once you got upset, he'd apologize and surprise you with your favorite flavored cake. He knew he'd get a few head smacks from you for even thinking about calling you a 'bitch' but all he really wanted was to hand-make the cake with the rest of your friend group and see you eat it half teary-eyed and laughing. But he decided against it after recording the audio, paranoid that it might actually drive you away so he resorted to just the plain non-surprising birthday party.

 But no, Eren saved that recording even when Connie had deleted it from his phone. Eren drove you against everyone for mainly one reason, or rather two. Jealousy and insecurity.

Eren hated, he loathed, how you spend time with Jean, he despised how you looked at him with those beautiful eyes of yours, all doe-y and filled with admiration and love. You shouldn't be looking at horse-face like that, it should be him. 

Eren believed he deserved your undivided attention, and the idea of you sharing those moments with Jean fuelled his jealousy. The insecurities within him festered, making him resentful of anyone who seemed to be close to you. 

In an attempt to have you closer to him, Eren manipulated the situation, using Connie as a pawn in his scheme. The recording, taken out of context, became a weapon that not only hurt you but also fractured their own friendship. Connie, who was genuinely trying to create a memorable surprise, became an unknowing victim of Eren's envious tactics. This showed just how far Eren was willing to go to have you all to himself. He also had another recording of Jean also taken out of context but since he threatened Jean that he'd tell you everything, Jean thought it would be better to come out on his own terms.

But it all backfired. The fallout from his actions left a trail of broken friendships and severed ties. The fallout was severe. Connie was hurt and betrayed, harbored deep resentment towards Eren, rarely ever talking to him unless it was urgent. Connie's initial reaction was worse, first, he took it as a joke and brushed Jean off when he told him everything, and then when he entered your room to look for you, everything was wiped, your closets were empty, your gaming setup that was right next to his was completely clean, only the table remained and all Connie could see was red causing a huge fight between him and Eren.

Jean, too, felt the sting of betrayal as Eren's actions caused you to forever leave and leave them swimming in regret not only driving a wedge between friends but also leaving a lasting scar on the trust and happiness that existed between the entire friend group.

To say that they all miss you would be a heavy understatement. It's like you took away the sunshine and left them in a never-ending gloomy day. It's not the same without your crazy laughter and the way you made even the boring stuff fun. Everything's just kind of off now, and they can't shake the feeling that things got messed up for no good reason.

In the dead of night, when everything's quiet, each of them thinks about the good times and how quickly things went south. There's this heavy feeling of 'what if' hanging in the air, 'What if I never created that recording' 'What if I never told her how I truly felt about her in the past, would that have changed her decision' 'what if i didn't exist'. Eren especially can't get over the fact that he let someone as wonderful as you slip away for his own self-centered and insecure reasons.

Life moves on, yes, but it doesn't seem so in this context. Everything feels so dull, they don't have fun anymore, no one laughs genuinely, it's very awkward. Everyone wonders where you went, where you've been, how you are, if you're happy at least, and that if you are then they're happy too but they're still figuring out how to fix the mess. Your absence is this big, annoying elephant in the room. If your absence has taught them something it's that they should try to appreciate the people around them. Your absence is like a neon sign saying, "Don't fuck up."

Back to the present day time, Eren gets a text from Mikasa and he doesn't want to open it but does so that he doesn't get manhandled and thrown across the backyard.

Mikasa: get ready and be there me and auntie are already in the car driving 

Mikasa: the address for the gathering is [Street Address/PO BOX], dress well pls

He groans into his pillow. Another stupid gathering, he thought he could get away from this year's gathering by traveling to America, a country where Mikasa's relatives aren't scattered around but no, the host of this year's gathering is Levi and he lives in America and specifically in the same state he traveled to. Eren can't even begin to express his annoyance. It's almost like the entire universe is against him not attending and he's not even related to anyone there. Why does he have to go, he thinks? Social events are the bane of his existence, ironic considering his whole career relies on interacting with people (fans).

Eren contemplates ignoring the text and pretending he never saw it. Maybe he can come up with a convincing excuse, like a sudden illness or something lame like 'I accidentally leaked the address, fans everywhere'. But he knows Mikasa too well – her persistence is unmatched. Ignoring her texts would only escalate the situation and so he responds with a 'fine, got it'.

He tosses his phone aside and stares at the ceiling. The prospect of facing another family gathering fills him with dread. It's not the family part that bothers him; it's the forced interactions, the fake smiles, and the constant questioning about his personal life. Resigned, he starts thinking about what to wear, already dreading the inevitable awkwardness that awaits him.

Eren makes sure to dress casually, opting for a comfortable yet presentable look. He styles his hair with a bit more care than usual, not wanting to appear too disheveled. As a final touch, he puts on his best cologne, he doesn't know why, but he feels compelled to dress properly, look proper, and act proper. 

Almost as if there's something, or rather someone that's going to present tonight, that's worth impressing...

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

You woke up at 10 am and left for Levi's house at 1 pm, giving yourself a few good 6 hours to prepare everything. Levi insisted that you didn't need to come so early and that he's already setting up everything but you like these kinds of things so you tell him it's fine. He tells you to utilize the catering staff he hired and leave their job to them but you refuse. It's a 'family' gathering, it should have bits and pieces of his personality embedded into his effort as well.

You couldn't find some grey cutlery so you bought what you could find which happened to be some colorful plates to Levi's dismay but you promised him that you'd keep them and it wouldn't stay in his house for more than a few days. He sighs a 'tch' at you that you don't think much of. You waste no time and get to work immediately, unpacking the bags and organizing the items you bought. The colorful plates you've chosen might not match Levi's monochromatic taste, but you believe they add a lively touch to the gathering.

You proceed with setting up the dining area and arranging the colorful plates alongside the other tableware. The clash of colors against the neutral backdrop creates a unique aesthetic, one that you find oddly satisfying. Levi also starts his part in cleaning, which doesn't take long as he cleans his house on a regular basis.

The catering staff, initially unsure about your decisions, follows your lead. As you continue to work, Levi observes silently, occasionally offering input or preferences. Despite the clash of styles, a subtle understanding begins to fold and everyone likes the outcome of the collaboration between the expertise of the staff and your knowledge of Levi's tastes.

After a few good hours, everything is set and you go change from your 'helping out' clothes to your casual clothes for the event. The catering staff bid their goodbye and Levi takes a seat in the living room. 

It is now 6:00 and Levi's mom and uncle arrive, you can hear their chatter from upstairs, a booming laugh can be heard and you assume it's his uncle. You've never been more nervous in your life. 'How should you greet them?' 'What if you look too casual' 'What if you say something wrong' are all the negative thoughts flowing through your mind right now. You take a deep breath, brush them aside, and head downstairs and you immediately happen to lock eyes with his mom, she sits on the couch with an amazing posture while Levi and his uncle bicker at the door. You wonder how Levi greeted his mom, too bad you missed it.

She looks so ethereal, with long healthy black hair flowing nicely with the white dress she's wearing, and her facial features are soft and delicate, she looks like the kindest person ever, she radiates this sort of 'welcome' feeling. As if she'll accept you in your arms, sinner or priest.

You snap out of it, stopping the gawking, and continue to walk up to her. She instantly smiles and gets up from the couch.

"Who is this young pretty lady?" Levi's mom exclaims with a warm smile, her eyes sparkling with genuine curiosity. You feel a mix of relief and nervousness as you extend a hand towards her.

"Hello Ma'am, I'm [Name]," you say, trying to match her warmth. "I'm a friend and co-worker of Levi's. It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

"Ma'am?" She laughs a hearty laugh and pats you gently on the shoulders "Sweetie, there's no need to be so formal, You can just call me Kuchel"

"It's nice to meet you, Ms. Kuchel" you reply, not bringing yourself to call someone much older than you by just their first name.

"You're a cheeky lady, aren't you?" Kuchel jokes with you, giving you an affectionate smile and you finally understand what the term 'girl crush' means because you've never been so positively intimidated by someone's elegance and stance. She urges you to sit down when in reality you should be the one urging her to sit down and making her feel comfortable.

Levi and his uncle also come by to sit down before he introduces himself to you.

"How's it going, little lady? I'm Kenny. I'm this kid's uncle, regrettably" he says with a smirk, causing Levi to roll his eyes and Kuchel to slap his arm playfully.

"Hello, I'm [Name], I work alongside Levi and we're also friends." Levi glances at you to see if you're uncomfortable in any way, he's good at reading people and you seem, relaxed and not tense as he predicted you'd be. He mentally nods at that and reminds himself to glance at you every now and then.

Kuchel smiles warmly at you. "It's wonderful to have you here, [Name]. I'm glad he's becoming friends with coworkers, he usually never does that"

"Mom, I'm 28, stop talking about me like I'm 15" Levi groans at the embarrassment, hands digging into his face.

"You're still my baby boy, no matter how old you get." She retorts, moving closer to him to pinch his cheeks and coddle him.

You coo at the rare sight, of Levi crossing his arms while his mother hugs him and strokes his hair, it's obvious Levi loves the affection his mother gives him, his fond smile gives it away no matter how grey his eyes look.

His uncle also seems to enjoy the sight, smiling a faint one as he catches you observing him. He flashes you a wink before looking back at the scene. You feel less tense now, feeling more welcome with the whole atmosphere.

It's now 7:15 and the first batch of relatives come out of a minivan, you smile and they somehow hug you as if you're a part of the family, one elderly woman asks if you're Levi's other half and you can't help but stutter on your words as you form incoherent sentences you later resort to shaking your head as a form of no.

It's now 8:15, an hour has passed and everyone is eating their starters, you look at the lively atmosphere and you feel so warm inside, everyone knows one another and everyone treats you like a relative, you feel like you belong before the doorbell rings again and you tell them that you'll go get it.

Nothing could've prepared you for who was behind that door.

You quickly open the door and get your clothing stuck on the handle of the door by opening it too quickly. You manage to say your hellos but your focus is on the door, trying to get out of this embarrassing situation.

"[Name], What’re you doing here?" a voice asks and you think it's Kuchel but once you finally get your clothing unstuck from the door and look up at the new batch of guests, you're astronomically wrong.

It's Carla, It's Carla Jaeger.

You've never thought you'd see Carla of all people here, you think you're hallucinating and that the presence of Kuchel may have triggered your longing for the mother figure who treated you like you were her daughter.

But no, it's actually Carla. How could this be and why? She's standing in front of the door with a fluffy scarf and a huge coat that hides her actual outfit. She stares at you with sadness in her eyes, but then Kuchel shouts 'Carla come in' which makes you snap out of it and open the door so that she may enter. She does so and as you try to close the door she tells you that..

"There's one more person"

And cue the anxiety, panic, and dread. You look at her, confused and worried. Carla immediately embraces you with a tight hug, as if seeking comfort or offering it, you're not sure. She cups your face gently, looking into your eyes with a mixture of affection and sorrow.

"[Name], You've grown up."

Carla whispers, her voice a mixture of sorrow and longing. The memories flood back – the warmth of her hugs, the wisdom in her advice, and the unconditional love she showered upon you. The times she'd teach you how to bake and you'd end up messing the whole thing up and she'd laugh at you while teasing.

"You look more refined" she continues, her gaze filled with a motherly pride. Carla steps back, holding your shoulders as she examines you. "But the same twinkle in your eyes remains."

"Thank you, Auntie" you reply not knowing what else, a pang of guilt heaving in your heart as you mentally embrace yourself for the person who accompanied her as the doorbell rings again.

please don't be eren, please don't be eren, please don't be eren

This is what you keep chanting in your mind as Carla gestures towards the door, indicating that you should answer it. As you open the door, you're met with the face of the person who accompanied her.

It's not Eren. Thank God

It's Mikasa.

You mentally smack yourself on the head, how could you have not known? Mikasa Ackerman, Levi Ackerman. What more clues did you need? A big red billboard?

Mikasa carries two baskets of what seems to be treats for everyone at the family gathering. She doesn’t seem to notice you since you're practically hiding behind the door as she goes forward to set the gifts down at the kitchen island and give greetings to her relatives.

Taking your invisibility to her as an advantage, you close the door not wanting the cold to get into the warmed house, and wonder where you should go and you decide you’ll go upstairs to get some fresh air, calm your nerves, and focus on the priority here.

You run up the stairs and go to the nearest bathroom, you’re pacing around not knowing what to do. You think let’s rewind a bit.

Now we know that Mikasa is related to Levi, check. Does that guarantee that anyone else who you’ve left behind could also be here, no. But why is Carla here then? 

And that’s where you’re stumped. You have no clue. And you don’t want this to ruin your image with the people you just met, for you to just run off out of nowhere because someone you know is in the same room as you. You’re not like this, this is the anxiety talking. So what know them? Say your hellos and look the other way, it’s very simple. 

You slap your face gently as if to beat the words into your face, that’s until you hear a booming noise from downstairs, it sounds like someone is cheering. Anyways, you think, let’s get back to this gathering. Whoever comes, came and whoever is not present well then that’s a win for us. 

And with that you head downstairs, slowly observing the table where everyone is seated at, Levi with his armed crosses, Kuchel with her hand on his head, Kenny bored out of his mind and Carla exchanging smiles with Kuchel. The other relatives seem to chatter among themselves. 

You quickly head down the stairs and grab a plate to get yourself some food. Carla comes along behind you, she follows what you do, also grabbing a plate and putting food on her plate.

“So how has life been treating you, [Name]?”

She asks, genuine curiosity flowing through her voice, you look at her and put your plate down to show some respect and talk to her.

“It’s going great, I’m graduating in a few weeks.” You reply, observing her features, she hasn’t changed a bit, she looks just as comforting as before. She smiles at that and pats your back.

“I’m proud of you sweetie. You deserve everything good in this life and the next” 

You smile and hug her abruptly, the connection you had with Carla was unmatched, nothing could top that and you just feel so guilty for not telling her anything beforehand.

“Listen, [Name], As a mother, I need to apologize.” You look at her confused and she continues with heavy words. “I never got the chance to apologize to you for Eren’s behavior that day, if I double-checked whether or not he took his medication, perhaps this wouldn’t have become the outcome.”

“Auntie, this is in no way your fault. This was my decision, I’d like to think that either way, I would’ve left. It’s just the terms I left on could’ve been improved, but that’s also my fault. I just combined everyone in the same category as Eren and left without further notice. That’s a fault on my part.”

"Nonsense, none of this could ever be your fault." She smiles and pats your cheek,“The ever so kind [Name], you have a heart pure as the driven snow.”

You appreciate her words but can't shake the feeling that you could have handled things differently. All the guilt and regret start pouring in, you've left so many people under the assumption that they hated you, Carla was one of them, you thought that if her son despised you enough to hurt you, then what would be stopping her?

Carla seems to sense your troubled self so she takes it upon herself to make the mood more friendly and less soggy with regret. She's seen how regretful both you and Eren look and it's so dreadful as his mother and as someone who cares about you. She tries to lighten his mood up, take him to places where serotonin may be boosted, and engage with him in activities that liven things up, but to no avail. Eren was stuck in a trance of regret.

Carla wishes she could ask you to at least talk with Eren or sort things out with him. Her motherly side worried about the wellbeing of her son but she can't bring herself to do so, it's too much on you and selfish of her.

"My kitchen is in good shape, I know for a fact that it has missed your mishaps," Carla says with a playful glint in her eyes, attempting to bring a smile to your face.

"Mishaps? More like nuclear testings" you respond with a chuckle, appreciating Carla's effort to lighten the mood. Her warm demeanor and easygoing nature make you feel more at ease, at least for the moment.

Kuchel calls Carla over once more, she has a glass of red wine and she seems like she has lots of things to catch up with her. Carla gives you a nod before heading over to her and taking her plate of food on the way.

You take a moment to collect yourself, glancing around the room. Levi is engaged in a conversation with his uncle Kenny and Mikasa is on her phone. You take this as an opportunity to clean the dishes, left by the guests as they head to the living room to watch a sitcom together.

It's now 8:50. it's almost two hours past the intended time, you can let out a deep sigh of relief. No one else is coming and everyone here is sleeping here for the night. Washing the dishes calms your nerves and you feel more relaxed, you hope that Mikasa stays on her phone and does not notice you. That'd be great, but the chances of someone not noticing another in a 'family gathering' are very low. She'll probably notice one way or another. 

You finish the dishes, dry your hands, and allow the families to enjoy their own company. You, however, make your way to the small seating area, opposite to the door. You grab a book from the shelf and start reading, taking your mind off all this.

In the process, 20 minutes have passed and it's now 9:30, you giggle at the book, you never knew Levi was into comedy like this, half the books on the shelf are comedy and satire books. You put a hand over your mouth to conceal your chuckles as you continue reading. The sound of laughter and conversations from the living room serves as a comforting backdrop. Despite the initial nervousness, being immersed in Levi's world, even if just through his book collection, brings a sense of belonging.

Until the doorbell rings once more.

You're on the other side of the room so it'll take a bit longer for you to open it but as soon as you get up, Mikasa is running to the door to open it. Why would she be running when she was on her phone the entire time? You're just standing there a bit confused at who it is and why 2 hours after the initial time.

Mikasa opens the door and the room suddenly turns into an incoherent noise factory. You can't see who it is because they immediately hug Mikasa but you'd recognize that grey hair anywhere.

It's Connie and behind him are Jean, Sasha, Historia, Ymir, and Reiner.

Mikasa steps back, breaking the hug, and the noise reaches a peak as everyone starts talking at once. Connie, always the ball of energy, is the first to greet everyone, Levi leaves him hanging on his fist bump and he doesn't mind as he goes on to greet everybody else.

You don't dare move from your spot continuing reading your book hoping to stay unnoticed in your little corner of the room. As everyone continues their greetings and catching up, you bury yourself in the book, pretending to be engrossed in the words on the pages. You hear Historia apologizing for being late as the roads were blocked due to snow.

The minutes pass, and you start to believe that your plan to remain inconspicuous is working. That is until you hear a familiar voice entering the room, and a chill runs down your spine. The voice is unmistakable, and dread creeps in as you hope it's just a figment of your imagination.

Eren stands there awkwardly, pathetically fidgeting with his hands as he mumbles 'Sorry I'm late'. Kuchel hugs him and playfully pinches his cheeks and he shyly averts his gaze down. You take this as a small chance to observe him from the peek of your book.

He grew a bit taller, his hair was styled to a fashionable degree, and his face was glowing although his eyes seemed dark from his eyebags as if he hadn't been getting much sleep. His azure eyes aren't as dull as you last saw them, they're still a bit dull but the color stands out more. He looks disconnected from the rest of his friends and Mikasa pulls his arm to bring him closer. 

You should've picked a more discreet place but then again why should you be hiding, it's just a coincidence that all of you happen to be reunited here. However you don't want any drama, you contemplate leaving through the back door and telling Levi something urgent came up but you don't want to let him down and there's no point in doing so if you so claim to have forgotten about them, meeting them, saying hello and disappearing again shouldn't be so hard. Maybe, just maybe, you can enjoy the evening without the complication of facing them. The minutes tick by, and your hope grows. Perhaps, for once, fate is on your side. 

It's as if everything is happening in slow motion, the laughter of Carla and Kuchel, Connie play fighting with Levi's uncle and Historia chatting to the elderly family members. You glance once more from between the book and you see that their attention is elsewhere. You get a text from your roommate who happens to tell you that all the roads are blocked due to a snowstorm in the area and wondering if you're safe.

you: yes i'm fine, are you at home?

claudia: yeah, it seems like you have to stay where you are until the snow dies down, don't try to go anywhere, kay?

You seem worried a bit, wondering if your friends are also at home and not outside, you check the news and it calmly urges anyone and everyone who is outside to get inside and people who are inside to stay inside.

you: damn, it looks bad out there, how's everyone, are they all inside?? i can't get through to them.

claudia: [one attachment], we're fine, see u at home tmrw. stay safe!!

You open the attachment to see all of your friends huddling in the room, windows closed and all in oodies giving the camera a big thumbs up and smiling.

You smile at that, responding with an 'okay' and sighing a deep breath as all of your friends are safe. You're convinced the universe is against you, making you trapped in a house with people you want to run away from. You can't stand the anxiety that comes with it, you put the book down and hear the distant chatters of Levi's family members telling each other about the news as they put on the news channel. 

You need a drink, you think to yourself. You quietly slip away from your corner, avoiding making any noise as you make your way to the kitchen. The distant chatter and laughter follow you, but you try to drown it out. You open the fridge, and fortunately, there's an array of beverages. You grab a bottle of water, thinking that's probably a safer choice but then you put it back as wine seems like a better option in this situation. 

While you're being indecisive, it seems that someone else has entered the kitchen, they have their back to you, and you see the mini man bun and immediately know it's Eren. He hasn't noticed you yet, he thinks you're just a random family member also in the kitchen, choosing some snacks, but he has trouble finding the cork opener for the wine bottle he's about to open. He can't go back and ask Levi in front of everyone because he knows his mom. will scold him for trying to drink. So he resorts to asking a stranger, you, instead to save him that trouble.

"um, excuse me?" He starts looking at your back as you attempt to leave the kitchen stealthily, sneaking quietly past the cabinets and stuffing your face in one of them. You freeze at the sound of Eren's voice. The last thing you wanted was to become involved in his search for a corkscrew. In an attempt to avoid the impending interaction, you continue pretending to browse the snacks.

"Excuse me," he repeats, a touch of frustration in his voice.

You debate whether to respond or slip away unnoticed. The room suddenly feels smaller, you feel claustrophobic and you wish you had chosen a different place to hide from the social storm. I mean, why would you go to the kitchen when they just arrived on an empty stomach?

Eren decides to approach you, still unaware of your identity, he lightly taps you on your shoulder. "Do you know where the corkscrew is?" he asks, coming up beside you and you swear this feels like a scene straight out of a Kdrama, one of those awkward side-character interactions that you'd rather avoid. Panic sets in, and you need to think and act quickly. Holding your breath, you contemplate the best course of action.

Escape seems like a tempting option. You scold yourself for feeling afraid and decide that avoiding unnecessary drama is your priority. Without turning around to face him, you respond vaguely, slightly changing your voice.

"I think I saw it near the sink," gesturing vaguely in that direction.

You sigh a loud deep breath as he heads in that direction but immediately suck it back in. As you are walking backward, you bump into someone, you pray it's someone you don't know but by reflex, you turn around to see who you bumped into and come face to face with a groaning Connie. He has his hand on his arm after he hits it on the corner of the wall and looks up at you only to have the annoyance etched on his face disappear within a millisecond.

He stands there speechless, unable to say your name, unable to even understand the whole situation, is it real? or did he play fight with Kenny a bit too hard? He can't do anything but stand there. He takes you in, every part of you and it finally hits him like a wave of strong tides. He missed you so badly, all this time, he never truly understood how much your absence affected him. The sight of you, the sound of your voice as you mutter a small 'oh', the simple act of bumping into you – it's a flood of emotions he tried to suppress.

"Hello and sorry." 

Is all you say, in a monotone voice, a stark contrast to the emotional whirlwind that's taking place within you. You grab a packet of chips and purposefully move away, creating a physical distance between the two of you. You move behind him because behind you is Eren opening a bottle of wine and glancing at the whole accident, still oblivious.

Connie scoffs at your attitude, he's immediately snapped out of his trance and feels the need to confront you. You haven't even bothered to hear his side of the story, or given him a chance to explain and it's so fucking annoying.

"Sorry for bumping into me or sorry for going no contact for like half a decade, hm?" he questions, his tone carrying a mix of sarcasm and genuine hurt. The confrontation hangs in the air, and you can feel the weight of his unspoken emotions.

You want to retort back but you know that this will just lead to confrontation on a wide scale and you don't want to ruin Levi's hard work. So you ignore him and go back to sitting down on your small chair in the corner and Connie can't believe you're actually acting like this. He watches you leave to sit down on a small chair and he's so pissed. He glances at Eren who seems to be in his own world, scrolling on his phone and drinking his wine and suddenly Connie feels like starting a fight because Eren's nonchalant attitude irks him. But he refrains, he has something else to do, something better. Connie takes the opportunity to shift the attention to the living room. He interrupts Sasha's karaoke performance in front of the TV, grabbing the microphone with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Guys, I know someone with a much better voice in this house, so who wants to listen to some real music?" He declares and Sasha pouts but lets go of the microphone. This causes Jean to tell him to stop being so rowdy and sit down. He shakes his head telling them 'You guys don't want to miss out, I promise' and they seem a bit curious at his offer, wanting to know who it is.

You think he's already gone, ignoring you as well since he never liked you in your memory so you take a breath of fresh air and continue reading while glancing at Eren who drinks the wine slowly while scrolling on his phone, replying to texts from his manager asking him on his opinion of certain costumes. He looks dreadful you almost pity him.

"It's [Name]" Connie announces, and there's a mix of surprise and curiosity that spreads among the family members. One, because half of them didn't know you could sing and the other half is reactions from Carla who knows where this is going and connected the dots, and Jean and the rest because they had no idea that you're here, so they scoff at him and tell him to stop playing. 

"Come see for yourself, then" He taunts and now everyone is really confused.

Eren hears your name being said and his head immediately perks up from his distracted state. He sets down the wine glass, his eyes narrowing as he searches the room for confirmation. He goes to the living room to see a glimpse of your face but you're not there. He then proceeds to return back to his spot disappointed but stops in his tracks as he sees you, sitting down on a small chair right behind the table he was drinking wine at. He's not like Connie, he stares at you with guilt in his eyes, you know you can't hide behind your book for so long so you set it down and look at him with an annoyed gaze as Connie and the others also turn around the corner of the kitchen, surprised to see you there.

Eren feels.. weird, he feels so pathetic, he feels like he’s gonna cry any minute now, going to full-on sob in front of everyone. Your annoyed gaze tells him everything he needs to know, he wants to fall on his knees and grovel, wants to tell you he'd do everything and anything to make it up to you, he places a hand on his mouth, almost to stop himself from revealing the overwhelming emotions threatening to spill out.

Everyone else seems to look at you with the same gaze, regret, confusion, guilt, surprise. Connie, crosses his arms, half pissed at you for what happened but also happy now that he knows you've been okay, Eren looks troubled like he doesn't know where to start, Mikasa has this face on that you can't read, Historia is in a state of surprise, Jean doesn't believe his eyes and Sasha and Ymir are so confused.

You don't know how to feel, you hate how everyone just put you on the spot, how you are indirectly ruining Levi's first time hosting this gathering, but most of all, you hate how much their presence affects you.

You don't do much but look outside at the snowstorm, and then tension grows higher and tighter with each second, you hate how they look at you like you are some animal in an enclosure, like a performer and people are patiently waiting for your next trick, it feels too awkward and makes it hard to breathe, you can't help but wonder if somehow standing in the snowstorm seems like a better option than standing in the storm brewing inside this house.

notes: first things first, thank you all for reading the part 1, I really appreciate it and to those who interacted, hope that nothing inconveniences you ever again in your life!! emphasis on ever. so here's to part two, crazy how it's 9K because I remember my milestone being 5K so how I got here is honestly mindblowing. I'm glad you liked my plot, I thought it might've been weirdly put but it seems not. so I hope you enjoy this one as well and let me know if you also want a part 3, I kind of left it on a cliffhanger...

divider credit: @hitobaby

#this was so anxiety inducing omggg #like my doorbell rang and i was like 'omg it's eren' #-͟͟͞☆and you're reading the latest euorian's documents-͟͟͞☆ #୨୧・euorian-pdf・୨୧ #eren x reader #jean x reader #connie x reader #sasha x reader #historia x reader #ymir x reader #jean kirstein x reader #jean kirstein #jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirschstein #connie springer #eren yaeger x reader #eren jaeger #eren jaeger x reader #eren x you #eren x y/n #connie x you #aot fanfiction #aot angst #attack on titan #carla yeager #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman #kuchel ackerman #kenny ackerman