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rainybubbles · 8 months

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Which love tropes are COD men ?

Ghost, Gaz, Soap, Price, Alejandro,Rudy, Keegan

(Sorry in advance for my mistakes, English is not my mother tongue. So sorry if it's badly written or if they're OOC. )

G H O S T :

Right person, wrong time

-It was an ordinary encounter, perhaps in a quaint grocery store or a bakery.

-He, a familiar face, gradually wove himself into your routine.

-Initially, only glances were exchanged : your curiosity met with his suspicion.

-But as time flowed, recognition blossomed, evolving into a delicate dance of shared secrets.

-There were playful glances.

-Some to mock this harsh client, some to exchange silent greetings, and at times some to secretly admire one other.

-There were also your doodling on his napkins when you gave him his pastries or pieces of bread.

-At first he remained oblivious, but over time, these doodles found a place in his home.

-Secretly kept in a box.

-It became an intimacy that defied words.

-Slowly the spark between you melted his ice barriers.

-The reason Simon were a regular or even in your country, was a year-long leave- a medical hiatus, owing to a wounded leg.

-Anger and fear consumed him upon hearing this news.

-Work was a means to escape the looming solitude within, it allowed him to not think

-Thus, he stumbled upon your bakery, where the comforting scent of freshly baked cookies invoked nostalgia, but of a sweet, rather than bitter kind.

-It reminded him of his mother.

-One year.

-The realization struck when he noticed your pastries were now baked within the walls of his own

kitchen, and your fragrance clung to his clothes, no longer limited to your bakery.

-At that moment, he made a decision.

-Because he knew he would not settle in here.

-He would not live here or stay here.

-And he knew he could not contact you again.

-And he couldn't bear to ask you to wait for him, knowing he might never return alive.

-So one fateful day when you saw him walking perfectly fine, you understood.

-He was healed. A year had passed.

-You stood so close that your lips nearly brushed against each other.

-On the verge of a kiss, he whispered softly "goodbye" instead of "I love you", as if the fact to not pronounce it could erase your feelings with time.

-Yet, in the years that followed, both of you wondered "what if we had dared that kiss ?".

-Right person, wrong time.

G A Z

Friends to lovers

-You both shared a profound friendship.

-During this friendship, you harbored a silent infatuation for Gaz, but you never acted upon it; it ebbed away gradually.

-It all began on a mundane summer night.

-Conversing upon unassuming plastic chairs, the balmy summer night caressing you, and laughter exchanged, you both reveled in the moment.

-Unexpectedly, Gaz felt a gentle warmth, briefly mistaking it for a passing delight, he didn't grant it much thought.

-Months later, in a dimly lit bar with the 141, Soap regaled the group with his comical misadventure- a disastrous date with a man convinced he was a vampire, who attempted to bite his ear. Amid the laughter, he posed a question, "Who is your ideal date?"

-"Myself," Ghost replied.

-Gaz and Soap chuckled.

-"You're a cocky bastard, L.T,." Soap said.

"Just confident Sergeant."

-"I'll choose Beyoncé or Donald Glover," Soap declared.

-Gaz grinned and was about to select a celebrity too, but he halted himself when your image was the only one that filled his mind.

-He parted his lips and fabricated an excuse before excusing himself for some fresh air.

-Perhaps he was intoxicated.

-Yes.

-Why would he... why would he divulge such feelings when you had been friends for years...

-He contemplated how at ease he was in your presence.

-How you supported him through the darkest days of his PTSD during his leaves.

-How you delved into the intricacies of PTSD, your fervor for your hobbies, and the way your smile etched a subtle crease on your cheek.

-How... how it transcended platonic boundaries.

-He retrieved his phone, prepared to send you a message.

-But fear seized him.

-Then he sighed. He was a soldier, a valiant man, prepared to wage war even in matters of the heart.

-He sent a message.

-And deleted it.

-And sent it once more before locking his phone and returning to the teal ambiance of the bar.

-When he settled back in his seat, Price wore a knowing smirk.

-"It was about time, son," Price smiled."

S O A P :

Unrequited love

-Soap was akin to a radiant sun, drawing people into his orbit effortlessly.

-Gazing upon him unveiled an entire solar system, one that included the 141, his beloved family, and a constellation of friends, all revolving around him like celestial bodies.

- It was as though every shared moment had forged an invisible gravitational pull, igniting a constellation of emotions within your heart.

-The magic lay in the details-how he remembered your favorite song and serenaded you in his car, never allowing his gaze to wander from yours.

- He ensured your seamless integration into the group, an attentive listener in moments when you believed no one else was.

-His smile, an ethereal response to your mere mention, bespoke the devotion he held for you.

-Thoughtful gifts crafted solely for you, tender touches, and sincere compliments on your attire, each detail etched itself into your soul.

-You believed in the possibility, for the very first time, of experiencing love's tender embrace.

-It was a sublime euphoria.

- Then, as suddenly as a meteor strike, reality set in Soap had found love elsewhere.

-At first, bitterness filled your heart.

-You wondered if there was a chance, a missed moment... Yet, he had another partner, then another, and another, and another.

-But never you.

-You recognized your own selfishness.

-In a lifetime of wanting nothing, you yearned for his affection now. Tears welled in your eyes. Then, a text arrived.

-He shared news of a successful date. As you gazed at your reflection in the mirror after reading his message, a smile tinged with tears danced upon your lips.

-You understood that your feelings were your burden to bear, not his. Despite the agony it brought, you genuinely celebrated his happiness.

-With a sigh, you locked your phone, only to feel a gentle hand on your shoulder. "I know, love. Come here," whispered a voice.

-You found Gaz.

-You sobbed in his arms when you recognized his glance.

-His glance was the same as yours: an unrequited love

-"I'm sorry, Gaz."

-"It's okay."

-"I'm sorry, I wish..."

-"Don't finish that sentence," Gaz gently admonished.

-Soap resembled the sun, but you had forgotten that drawing too near to the sun could result in burning.

P R I C E :

First love

-Not his first lover, but unquestionably his first love.

-During high school, Price embodied the quintessential sportsman, often hailed as the golden boy.

-He was orchestrating a fundraising endeavor for the grand ball when a cacophony of voices reached his ears from an empty classroom.

-It was your partner who had left you in the lurch, callously disregarding your feelings.

-Your partner had callously remarked how he was fully aware that you lacked alternative companionship.

-And he took perverse pride in this knowledge, exploiting your social anxiety, knowing you wouldn't dare to present yourself alone at the ball.

-As this asshole exited, you crossed paths with Price.

-You nodded your head in acknowledgment, you extended your assistance upon noticing Price's dedication to decorating the ball. His acceptance was unspoken yet understood. Moments passed.

-"Are we going to ignore the elephant in the room ?" you inquired.

-"Why should we? It was evident he would ditch me. I only asked him because I didn't want to go alone. I... was just hoping that he could endure my presence until the ball."

-"Well, if you seek a partner for the ball, I happen to know a certain sportsman who is kinda handsome " Price joked, clearly referring to himself. Your laughter echoed through the room.

-"Thank you, but there's no need. Just helping with the decorations allows me to feel involved. Besides, I'd likely faint amidst the crowd and festivities," you confessed. Price nodded, his understanding unspoken but profound.

-Yet, every evening after school, he would find you, ostensibly seeking your assistance with the decorations.

-Initially, you took it at face value, only to realize that Price had a deeper motive when he requested your help in crafting delicate paper flowers, while you knew there were already real flowers for the big day.

- It became apparent that Price had orchestrated this ruse to enable you to savor the ball in your own way.

-The bond between you grew stronger.

-Through strokes of paint, collaborative DIY projects, and shared tasks, your afternoons transformed into cherished moments.

-In your final session before the ball, you thanked him.

-Price smiled.

- Then he went to the ball with the girl he promised to go with.

- The night was enchanting.

- However, at the stroke of 2 AM, a gentle rap on your door interrupted your dreams, as Price stood there, asking you to dance in your garden, so you would not faint because of the crowd.

- You laughed and told him it was too dark and you were in pajamas.

- But he just smiled and said he could dance in your room to some Lou Reed vinyl.

-And so, you danced, clad in pajamas, in the intimate confines of your room. A shared kiss sealed the night.

-Your relationship spanned two beautiful years.

-When Price enlisted, he ardently desired to maintain your connection.

-But you didn't want it.

-You knew you couldn't keep a long-distance relationship.

-Thus, you chose to part ways, preserving your shared memories.

-To this day, Price keeps a paper flower, a symbol of your connection, beside a photograph of the 141 on his office desk.

-Whenever "Walk on the Wild Side" graces his ears, a nostalgic smile graces his face.

-Oh, how he yearns for the bygone days.

A L E J A N D R O

Second chance

-In the whirlwind of a bitter and hasty love affair, communication had faltered, leaving you forever in the shadow of Valeria.

-Her name echoed incessantly, revealing the less flattering facets of your character.

- You had never thought of yourself as a jealous person, but this situation had brought forth that dormant emotion.

-The realization that you no longer recognized the person you had become, coupled with the painful understanding that Alejandro's love was not returned as you had wished, led to a painful breakup.

-The break-up was far from clean; it left a trail of emotional wreckage in its wake.

-However, in Las Almas, gossip spread like wildfire.

- Years later, in a new school in Las Almas, fate reunited you with Alejandro.

-He wasted no time in offering a sincere apology the moment he recognized you as the teacher.

-He confessed that during your past relationship, his heart still clung to Valeria, though he had only recently ended that idea.

- He knew he could never return to her, and he had come to accept this truth. You nodded, uncertain of what more there was to say.

-As the days went by, children inquired about Alejandro's work whenever they spotted his gear.

- Uncertain about how to proceed, you took a chance and asked if he could stay.

-A warm smile graced his lips, and slowly, after finishing his patrols or shifts at the base, he began to visit the school to lend you a hand. He always carried sweets in his pocket to spoil the children of Las Almas.

-In this closeness, Alejandro began to discover the remarkable person you were.

-Of course, you had always been extraordinary, but he had never truly taken the time to explore the finer details of your character, to uncover the nuances that made you unique.

-He had admired you before, but now he was certain that he loved you.

-He willingly offered his assistance in preparing your classes, often took charge in the kitchen, and eventually mustered the courage to ask you out on a date.

- Your response was hesitant; you weren't entirely convinced or ready to rekindle the past. He simply smiled and assured you that it didn't matter. He would stay by your side.

-A year later he was still here.

-You eventually agreed to that one date, though you insisted it wouldn't signify much.

-Yet, one date led to two, and then three, and soon, a multitude of shared moments. Alejandro was ready to release his grip on the past, for he saw a brilliant future ahead with you.

R U D Y

Slow burn

-He had always harbored deep affection for you, yet he refrained from taking action due to your existing relationship.

-However, the magnetic chemistry between you two proved impossible to extinguish.

-When you found yourself single once more, he stood by your side to mend your broken heart.

-During your dates with other people, Alejandro would sigh, exclaim, and even wager with Rudy's mom.

-With each passing year, Alejandro's wallet grew emptier as he found himself increasingly indebted to Rudy's mom.

-Rudy was someone who was confident, but he hesitated to initiate, feeling unworthy.

-The trust and friendship you shared were truly precious to him.

-Despite the flirtations, tender touches, whispered endearments, and warm embraces, it seemed both of you were hesitant to immerse yourselves fully in your love for one another.

-Several years after your initial encounters, following a demanding and challenging mission, Rudy reached his breaking point.

- Pulsing with adrenaline and weariness coursing through his muscles, he instinctively made his way to your residence.

- As you opened the door, a radiant smile graced your face.

- "It was about time, Rudy," you remarked.

- And with that, he kissed you passionately, the door slamming shut as your garments gracefully found their way to the floor.

K E E G A N

Neighbor next door

-A flooding breached your common wall, necessitating a decision to share his bathroom with you, given that yours lay in disrepair.

- It marked the beginning of your mutual acquaintance, for you both were individuals who seldom engaged with other neighbors.

-Following this event, the elevator became a stage for exchanged smiles.

- Whenever he spied you struggling with groceries, he would gallantly come to your aid.

- You, in turn, brightened his door with thoughtful notes, a balm to soothe the weariness stemming from his deployments.

-Laughter echoed through the hallways after you collaborated on a playful prank targeting your cantankerous neighbor.

-It was a bond forged without the need for spoken words, a silent understanding that linked you both.

-Gradually, two keys melded into one, opening the door to a new chapter in your shared sanctuary.

_____

I also thought about

Konig : childhood friends to lovers.

And Alejandro : ennemies to lovers.

And Ghost with a fake pretend relationship because of his trust issues, I think it could be one of the way for him to open up slowly and safely in his mind.

If you want more : COD masterlist

My masterlist

#call of duty x reader #cod x reader #ghost simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #soap x reader #gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #john price x reader #captain john price x reader #alejandro vargas x reader #rudy x reader #keegan russ x reader

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burr-ell · 3 months

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A Not-Necessarily-Exhaustive List of Good Moments from C1 1-27:

"I have an intelligence of 6, I know what I'm doing"

"We're here to right wrongs, and right lefts—" "And write comment cards"

Tiberius Kraghammer

Clarota

"We'll explain later. You're on the roof of Osama bin Laden's house"

"We'll be taking your weapons, your armor, and I believe your pride"

Percy making the first trick arrows for Vex after a shopkeep was a dick to her about arrows, which is canonically when she began to fall for him

Keyleth killing that one duergar from the TLOVM flashback

"I encourage violence"

Lady Kima being freed and then pulverizing the corpse of the duergar who'd been torturing her

Matt's fucked up body horror monsters

Scanlan taking a dump on a bed for the first time

Pike's crisis of faith when she slits a duergar's throat with her mace and her holy symbol breaks

When the limited T-shirt run went live and then sold out before Marisha could finish reading the announcement

Vax getting his foot burned off in lava

Scanlan the Kingslayer

"Can I use my Luck feat for this?" "You don't have any feet left"

Kima and Keyleth's argument (it was good, haters eat my shorts)

The origin of The Cube

"I'm Vax that's Vex ->" "I'm Vex that's Vax <-"

"Screw you, I want my final words with you to be indignant and irritated!"

"He has three-quarters cover" "I ignore three-quarters cover :)" "...then fuckin' fire!"

"Some people have no sense of fucking honor!"

Travis's notes that just say "I don't trust Clarota I don't trust Clarota I don't trust Clarota"

Percy reacting to the Briarwoods being namedropped during a council meeting

Meeting Gilmore on-stream for the first time

The Belt of Dwarvenkind and Grog's obsessive attempts to grow a beard

Scanlan's blue-shit-scrying potion

Grog "Philip" Strongjaw vs Kern

Vax giving Minxie!Keyleth a belly rub

The hydra fight and the beef with the Slayer's Take

Episodes 18 and 19, in their entirety, but specifically:

Zahra and Vex's initial rivalry-turned-friendship-turned-"I have a crush on Zahra"

Lyra. She's just. so much. idk of what but she is it

"I'm wearing the pajamas with the buttflap and the buttflap is down. The buttflap is DOWN"

Scanlan introducing himself to Rimefang as Burt Reynolds and then Matt, in his scary dragon voice, calling him "Burt"

"I'm sorry, I'm a genius, I'm sorry! Oh, god I'm clever!"

Zahra killing Rimefang

Percy and Vex working together on a history check (it's important To Me)

Wil Wheaton rolling five Nat 1s. In one session

Keyleth and Vax posing as a married couple to get information

Kash insight-checking Thorbir, believing he has to be actively sabotaging them because no one could possibly be that bad at their job (he's not, he really is just that unlucky)

Wil, playing a dwarven fighter, finally rolling a nat 20...for an insight check

The magic carpet losing its enchantment in a pit of acid and Laura's scream of horror from offscreen

"Rakshasaaaaaaa!" -jazz hands-

Kashaw and Keyleth, which was thankfully reworked in TLOVM but was also hilarious

Vex exasperatedly kissing Grog, portrayed by Laura kissing a bewildered Travis

Tyriok the cartographer

Grog, the Vasselheim merchant, and the first and only time Vex started beef with a retailer

Keyleth recounting a vision she had of her own death

The Aramente trial in Pyrah and a cameo from Thordak

Travis getting a medal from a fan for losing to Kern and Matt making it canon

Grog fighting Kern again and winning

Keyleth getting arrested. For the second time in Vasselheim alone

The first appearance of the man. The myth. The Viktor

Kynan's first appearance and Vax's idea of "tough love"

Percy telling his backstory to the party and them immediately affirming their support for him ("You don't have to get involved in this" "Oh, we are SO involved" "You said you wanted 'em dead!") and Taliesin himself being moved to tears over this

Percy creating Diplomacy

Vax and Keyleth bear-sitting Trinket and braiding pink ribbons into his fur

Gilmore finding out Vax wants to see him and teleporting in from half a continent away

Vax shaving half of Grog's beard and Travis breaking a mechanical pencil with one hand

The feast, where Percy actually threatens the Briarwoods to their faces while disguised as Vax

Vax and the Briarwoods. "Gosh you guys are good-looking"

Vax nearly dying and having a vision of the two people he cares about most: Vex and Keyleth

Sylas jumping out the window and doing a perfect 3-point landing...while Delilah blows the athletics check and faceplants in the dirt

"SYLAS"

Vex scoring two crits on Delilah

Tiberius getting Feebleminded

Percy's attack on Desmond. My horrid little skrunkly <3

"YOUR SOUL IS FORFEIT! DIE! DIE!" and Keyleth skipping her turn to just stare at Percy

Vox Moochina

Keyleth taking charge to save the ember roc

Keyleth conjuring a water elemental and Taliesin gargling water to translate her commands to it

And finally, the conversation between Keyleth and Percy where he privately confesses his own worries that he's going dark and that he's afraid of himself, and she expresses her concern for him and promises to be there for him

anyway c1 good

#critical role #vox machina #percy de rolo #vex'ahlia #vax'ildan #keyleth #grog strongjaw #pike trickfoot #scanlan shorthalt #if c1 is not getting lovemail assume i'm dead

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sopiao · 9 months

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could i request a human heat pack reader with our favorite 141 boys?

i’m very unusually warm. like every time i travel to russia to see family my mom and brother always use me as human heat pack.

have a great day!!

i just had this idea >:0

(great minds think alike >:)).

it would be so cute, they’d be so unconsciously touchy just to try to warm their hands during a mission in a cold area. where? Siberia. i don’t know that was just at the top of my head.

(Callsign: ‘Shark’ :3)

When they first land their all already swaddled like babies in layers of clothes. A long sleeve, whatever t-shirt, thin jacket with a thicker one over it, extra layers of socks. Whatever could spare them of the harsh winter of the country.

Their all huddled in a position to try and conserve warmth. Except for Price who insist that “It’s not that cold” and to “Get over it already”. But they can all see his subtle shake in his crossed arms pose.

“You got a heat pack or something?” Gaz asked, cupping his hands over his mouth, hoping to get some warmth from his breath. Seeing Shark’s still and relaxed figure like this weather was nothing. Gaz was hoping that they’d had an extra one and could toss one to him.

“No?” They shook their head and began to look around. Kicking snow to kill time when they hear their captain speak to a local about directions.

“Jesus, fuck. How are you not freezing you’re arse off?” Soap asks, pulling the collar of his jacket higher to cover more of his neck. Shark just shrugs. They really don’t know how. It just didn’t bother them as much. It was sorta cool since it fit their name, sharks can change their body temp to a certain range to adapt to their surroundings.

Gaz wasn’t even thinking, just desperate for warmth. Taking his chances for even a bit of comfort, he stood closer to your side, leaning on you with his cheek to your temple. Once he felt the small relief from the sudden cold, he leaned in more, covering more body surface. Relaxing, the more he did the more toasty he started to feel.

“Ahh-” Gaz sighed silently, Shark patted his back to further comfort him. Soap and Ghost looked at the two, who looked like a couple trying to keep themselves warm as an excuse to cuddle in public, then back at each other, silently questioning what to do or say, or if they should.

Soap shrugged and did the same to your other side, sighing in relief when the harsh and tight coldness of the snow felt like ice cream melting in the sun when he felt Shark’s body heat. Shark didn’t move but just shifted their eyes to see him. Couldn’t do anything but accept their fate.

Ghost is naturally a cranky and grumpy guy already and chilly, an understatement, atmosphere didn’t simmer him down a bit. He didn’t even try to fight it or reason with his thoughts and subsided. Wrapping his arms around their middle and resting his chin on the top of their head. Sighing when he felt his comrade’s warm back defrost him (hehe). Sighing for them was like the unconscious ‘ding’ to the microwave when your food finishes heating up.

Shark can’t really move even if they wanted to. Plus who wouldn’t wanna be sandwiched between three beefy guys?

“A’ight team. It shouldn’t be too far from here—” Price cut himself off, seeing his soldiers surround one like an overstuffed burrito. He crossed his arms, not registering that they were using Shark for warmth and just randomly decided to simultaneously bear hug them at the same time. Even Simon was joining in.

“Wha— Why?— What’s happening?” Price chuckled slightly, more out of confusion than amusement, crossing his arms once again with the subtle shake from the natural instinct of his body to find energy for heat.

“Warm” Only thing that Soap says, short but filling explanation. Causing Price to chuckle even more. Shark brings their hands forward, offering a fraction of their warmth to their captain, since it’s really the only thing that’s not occupied. Price holds their hands, at first to humor them, once he felt how unusually warm their hands are at this weather. He unconsciously lifted their hands up to his face, toasty palms pressed up against his cheeks.

—

“Fuckin’ hell” Price whispered under his breath before thanking the citizen for her time and cooperation, grumbling about the lead being a dead end. Price calls out for his teammates, signaling to continue on.

“Back to bloody square one” Soap grumbled, cranky from all the running around they had to do to catch one guy.

Both Price and Gaz immediately reached for your hand. At this point they didn’t even care, or notice what they were doing. It was just a natural instinct to swarm towards anything slightly warmer. Shark didn’t mind though, swinging their hands as they walked.

Two girls walking past them. Having to do a double take when they see the three. Before looking at each other wordless message of ‘How lucky!’.

—

During the cramped car ride, both Soap and Ghost had their heads resting on Shark. Soap resting his head on their shoulder, having to slump down slightly, while Ghost rested his temple on the top of their head. Both soldiers clinging onto and hugging on their arm for more cozy protection.

—

As Shark, Gaz, and Price watched and waited Soap and Ghost from across the building. They finally got a lead on the perp but if they all went in at once it would seem suspicious. They all watched intently, Gaz starting to get more bored.

Price unconsciously wrapping his arm around Shark, pressing them close to keep himself warm, resting his head on theirs as he got bored too. Shark figured out a while ago not to be too bothered with how clingy their being, figuring out that their just a human heater for them.

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aphroditelovesu · 6 months

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Yandere Cassian Headcanons (Romantic)

''You are everything I ever wanted and I will protect you with everything in me.'' — Cassian.

❝ ⭐ — lady l: Do I have a soft spot for him? I have. Can you blame me? Probably not. Ah, I hope you like it and forgive me for any mistakes! ❤️

❝tw: obsessive and possessive behavior, mention of murder, jealousy, unhealthy relationships.

❝ ⭐pairing: yandere!cassian x gender neutral!reader.

Cassian is very passionate and intense, his feelings are overwhelming and he needs to vent them in one way or another. Usually he does it by fighting, but he needs love. He needs you.

You are everything he ever wanted. It doesn't matter if you're his mate or not, Cassian is completely in love with you and he only wants you.

He can't remember ever wanting someone as much as he wants you. Cassian just knew that he loved you, that he needed you in his life and he wouldn't stop until he got it.

Cassian is a lovesick puppy, basically. He will follow you everywhere with passionate eyes, his wings spreading menacingly to anyone who dares to approach you.

He has no qualms about eviscerating alive anyone who dares to look at you the wrong way. You are all that matters and he will never let you be hurt. And anyone foolish enough to try will regret it very quickly.

He will do anything for you. Anything. Just order and it's yours. Do you want an expensive shoe? It's yours. Do you want a Spring Court rare flower? He'll sneak in there and get it for you. Everything, anything, just ask him.

To say he is overprotective is an understatement, Cassian is completely obsessive when it comes to your safety. Anything that shouldn't be there will be cause for concern and murderous rage. Even if it's just a broken nail, if you weren't the one who broke it, you can be sure that someone will die.

Cassian can't help but be so overprotective, he just wants to take care of you. It's his Illyrian instincts screaming at him to rip apart anyone who poses a threat to you. He's your bodyguard, basically.

He is your biggest fan. If you do anything, he will be rooting for you. If he could, he would wear a t-shirt with your face showing how much pride he has for you. He also constantly seeks your attention and approval.

Cassian would love to train you if you want, although he knows it's dangerous, he wants you to be able to protect yourself if he's not around. He would never forgive himself if something happened to you because he didn't want to teach you how to defend yourself.

Like all males, Cassian is very possessive and jealous and this is nothing new. He gets jealous very easily and generally acts petty about it. In the blink of an eye, he'll be at your side, pulling you into his embrace and staring at whoever made him deathly jealous. No one will take you away from him. No one.

He wants you to be happy with him. That's all he asks. He does not deserve? After all the shit he's been through, Cassian feels like he deserves to be happy and he knows he can only be happy with you. You are everything to him.

Cassian can be called a brute and, although he can often act like that, he is a teddy bear to you. He loves to hold you, hide you in his wings and just be by your side. He needs to always be touching you and not always in a sexual way, he just needs to have confirmation that you are real.

His touches are always soft and gentle on you, as if he's scared of breaking you. Cassian would never forgive himself if he ended up hurting you.

Cassian is a big softie for you. He would never hurt you and would always put you above everything and everyone, including his own family. You are everything to him, his life, his motivation and his reason for breathing. He would die and kill for you in a heartbeat. Cassian just wants to be loved and you are everything he loves, so don't abandon him. He wouldn't react well to that.

He would never force you to stay with him, but Cassian wouldn't let you go. He can't lose anyone else and he won't. You are his and you will always be his.

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #yandere acotar #yandere a court of thorns and roses #yandere cassian #yandere cassian x reader #cassian x reader #cassian acotar #dark!cassian #dark!cassian x reader #yandere headcanons #headcanons

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hyunjin-amore · 6 months

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Strawhats react to S/o giving them kisses

Luffy

Luffy might not be used to getting kisses from people, so his initial reaction would probably be one of surprise and bewilderment. But since he's an adventurous and fun-loving guy, he would probably reply with a mix of joy and laughter. He might give you a big hug or playfully return the kisses. Given Luffy's reputation for being carefree and impulsive, he would be happy to receive the affection and relish the occasion.

Zoro

If his significant other started kissing him, Zoro would probably react with a mix of surprise and nervousness. He might not be accustomed to or anticipate such loving gestures because he is a somber and serious character. On the other hand, he would secretly value his S/O's love and attention. At first, he might try to ignore it or appear indifferent, but a tiny blush or smile could be visible on his face. All in all, even though he might not verbally thank you, his sweetie's kisses would undoubtedly have an effect on him.

Sanji

Sanji's response would be significantly different from Zoro's. Given his reputation for flirting and his unwavering quest for love and affection, Sanji would be ecstatic to receive kisses from his significant other. He would probably be ecstatic and express his gratitude honestly, grinning broadly and perhaps even displaying some tearful reactions. Sanji would probably tell his sweetie how fortunate he is to have such a caring and loving partner while complimenting her. He would feel loved and appreciated by the kisses, and he would probably reciprocate with more kisses and tender gestures.

Franky

Given his exuberant nature and fondness for ostentatious and ostentatious things, Franky would undoubtedly react enthusiastically if his partner planted kisses on him. It would probably take him a while to realize what was going on, but then his signature smile would appear on his face. In response, Franky would react with a mixture of surprise, joy, and a hint of his signature "SUPER" excitement. He may even flex his muscles or strike a pose to express how much he appreciates the affection. Franky would probably give his S/O bear hugs and maybe even a few playful kisses in return, kissing them with the same intensity. All in all, Franky would be overjoyed and would interpret this show of affection as evidence of his close relationship with his partner.

Nami

Given her reputation for practicality and financial acumen, Nami might be surprised at first when her partner plants kisses on her. She may be a little doubtful or even suspicious, wondering if the show of affection is being made for a different reason. But her attitude would soften as she began to understand that it was a sincere and heartfelt gesture.

Nami would probably react in a way that was both surprising and grateful. She may blush or smile shyly, expressing her love in a more subdued manner. Even though Nami isn't as ostentatious or showy as some of the other members of the Straw Hat crew, she would undoubtedly value the consideration and care that went into the gift.

Nami could show her appreciation in a pragmatic manner by providing something in exchange, such as surprising her partner with a special dinner or doing something kind for them. Even though Nami might not be very touchy-feely or affectionate, she would know how important it is to return the favors. In the end, she would strengthen her relationship with her partner and interpret it as a sign of trust.

Robin

As the cool-headed archaeologist on the Straw Hat team, Robin would probably respond to her partner kissing her in a calm and considerate way. She would be thoughtful and mature in her response, and she would appreciate the loving gesture.

Robin would probably give you a warm smile and maybe a gentle touch in return for your kisses. She would thank her partner for their affection and cherish the closeness and connection they shared. Given her reputation for intelligence and analysis, Robin might also pause to watch her partner's actions, attempting to decipher the motivations and feelings that underlie the gesture.

Even though she wouldn't say it out loud, Robin would show her gratitude with her words and deeds. She could give her partner a heartfelt thank you or communicate her emotions in a cool, collected manner. Robin would be able to appreciate the importance of the situation and her partner's faith in her, strengthening their relationship.

All things considered, Robin's answer would be considerate and genuine, demonstrating her depth of feeling and comprehension of her partner's loving gesture.

Usopp

The bold and creative sniper of the Straw Hat team, Usopp, would react more animatedly if his sweetheart planted a kiss on him. Recognized for his theatrical demeanor and exaggerated facial expressions, Usopp would probably be surprised by the gesture of affection but would probably end up being delighted.

When his partner planted a kiss on him, Usopp would look wide-eyed and shocked at first. He might even make funny gestures with his arms or trip over his words. But as the shock wears off, a broad smile appears on his face, showing how happy he really is.

Usopp wouldn't think twice about showing his partner how happy and appreciative he is of their affection. He may give a hearty applause or perhaps start to jump up and down. Usopp is well known for inflating tales and feelings, so he would show his significant other a lot of love and praise.

Usopp may even feign being overcome by the kisses, swooning dramatically or playfully acting as though he's weak in the knees, all in his trademark exaggerated style. His partner would feel valued and loved by his lively and playful response.

All things considered, Usopp would be ecstatic to receive a kiss from his significant other, and his trademark humor would be present as well. He would take advantage of the chance to show his partner how much he cared in a lighthearted and entertaining way, making the moment enjoyable and unforgettable for both of them.

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legend-the-dumb-jock · 8 months

Text

Walking I got he old man’s office, Josè already knew what he was going to bargain for. After years of trying and never being able to achieve his ideal body type, he had resulted to drastic measures. Measures that led him to the old abandoned looking store in the back ally of this run down city. He was surprised when the ancient man behind the counter looked up at him and grinned. All Josè had to do was tell the old man his desire and next thing he knew a cold wind blew through the store while old man cackled. Josè was pushed from the store by a invisible force and right before him the door of the shop disappeared as if it had never been there. Leaving him to wonder if after all this time his searches were for nothing.

Turned away from the alley he began to walk back to his car. Another loss in his search for the ideal body he was trying to achieve.

Back in his apartment he skimmed through online forums trying to find something else that could work to help him get what he wanted. He was at a loss. He was willing to do anything to get the ideal body he wanted. Thinking back to his encounter with the old man he was sure that his request “make me bulking bear of a man!” Would have interested the old man but it seemed as though he was mistaken. He slammed the laptop he was searching the internet on and got in bed. Disappointed with the way his day has ended.

During the night tho he began to change. His skin began to take on a brown hugh. He tossed and turned not even aware that his body was changing while he slept. A thick beard quickly grew on his face while it looked as tho a carpet of thick dark hair began to push out of his skin. His nose rounded out as his cheek bones pushed out. Changing the shape of his face while his eyes became a little smaller. His feet thickened and lengthened. Stretching from an 11 to size 16 wide. His feet poked out from the bottom of his covers as he got taller growing from 5’10” to 6’3”. When he woke up the next morning, He was unrecognizable.

Letting out a loud yawn he noticed instantly that his voice was much deeper than it ever was before. His eyes shot open and he propped himself up. Seeing hairy feet poking out of the bottom the blanket he yanked the blanket off his body. Yelping at the hairy tanned body that was under his control. He took time getting ready. Exploring every inch of his body. The hairiness, the bigger feet, and even the bigger package that made him reposition himself. Sitting now with his legs spread eagle so he didn’t crush his new package. Going to the bathroom he took a picture and couldn’t help but smile. Finally having what he wanted.

He went out and for the first time in his life he was happy with himself. Confident in how he looked. Men would stop and. Hawk at him as he was the epitome of a hairy Hispanic daddy bear now. At the gym he couldn’t help but take a picture of himself. Posing while he felt the sweat drip down his hairy body after his first workout in his new body.

He was amazed at the strength he now possessed. He did t think there anything he couldn’t do. He was on top of the world.

When he got back home, he sat down to relax on the couch while he wait for his food to arrive that he ordered. He was committed to keeping this body in tip too shape now that he finally had it and that meant continuing on with his very strict diet of rice and chicken. Which was cheap when he could order it from the Chinese restaurant down the road. When the door bell rang his plain rice and bland chicken was there. He sat to eat the whole time still trying to get used to new bulk he had wished onto himself. Then the smell hit him. At first he thought something was rotting but soon was horrified to find it was his own breathe. Almost like he had halitosis. I. The bathroom he quickly brushed his teeth to get himself his horrible breath but didn’t do any good. It wasn’t long after that he smelled bo. Very pungent and enough to make his own nose burn. He jumped in the shower to wash the stink off. His own feet beginning to itch from the tangled hair and sweat that now adorned them. When he was done with his shower he had a few moments of freshness before the smell was back. Almost as if he never showered! What was worse was even though he has just dried himself off he could feel a heavy sweat droplet rubbing down his hairy back. Josè couldn’t make sense of what was happening. But it had to be worth it if it meant that he was going to be a like this. He loaded on the deodorant and popped some breathe mints. It was already much better than it was before. He just didn’t realize that with a body like this is meant new smells would come with it.

That might be tossed and turned some more in his bed. Just like the night before he was unaware that his body was still changing. Only this time all he did was sweat. The next morning he woke up he was in a puddle of sweat. His bed sounded like a wet spinach as the blankets and sheets stuck to his hairy body. The room smelt like a sauna only this was a permanent smell he would have to get use to.

Walking to the bathroom he thought he heard something. But he couldn’t make out the noise. In the bathroom he ran the water for his shower. Brushed his teeth and breathed into his hand. Yeah. Still horrible breathe. Popping some mints he got in the shower and did the same routine he did the night before. He felt so weird this morning though. He could feel his stomach gurgling. Like gas was building up inside. And when the water was shot off as if on command a loud fart escaped. When he got out of the shower he felt odd. The steam in the room was thick and hard to see. He wiped the mirror down and was scared at what he was seeing. The sound he heard. The gurgling sensation. It was all coming from his stomach. Which was slowly pushing outward.

He tried to suck his stomach in but found it impossible as it just kept pushing outward. Soon love handled formed and would hang over jock straps whenever he wore them.

His body continued to expand. His chest becoming heavy while his arms got even bigger. Soon his weight had had went from 175 to 250!

He didn’t know what to make of everything happened. His stomach was large and round now. Hard to touch. What little fat there was jiggled when he walked. This wasn’t what he wanted at all. He didn’t have anything that would fit him now. Everything would be skin tight or impossible to wear. He heard a wicked laugh laugh coming from the door way and looking over he seen the old man. “Get used to it. You’ve got some more weight to gain. You wanted to be a bear. So you’re going to be one”.

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emepe · 2 months

Text

— Pairing: Eren x Reader, friends to lovers

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

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

— Chapter summary: Three moments when Eren Jaeger won you over without realizing.

— Content warnings: minor injury.

— Notes: Welcome back! This chapter is in my top five of the series. I seriously enjoy writing such simple and cute moments for characters <3 Happy reading!

Links: Read on AO3 | Chapter guide | Masterlist

slow and sweet

Fate is a tricky thing.

Certain situations can’t be avoided as much as certain people’s lives can’t be kept from intertwining. People need people. People change people.

A simple dinner party can lead to unexpected relations. Even if another simple mortal claims to call the shots, who’s to say it’s not the universe’s will behind it all?

Week One

It’s Saturday evening. The setting sun elongates your shadow cast on the pavement as you keep a steady pace toward the nearest bus stop. The canvas tote bag bears a considerable weight on your right shoulder, the contents bumping and pressing against your ribs with every other motion.

There’s a block left to go before you arrive at the bus stop, made up by the local park. There are pathways loosely lined with trees. Scattered sounds of conversation and laughter fill the air, as well as the faint screech of a seesaw from the playground located at the center of it all. Your gaze is set forward, vision set on the bench you can spot across the street. However, a warm laugh pulls you from your goal. Your gaze darts around the area until you spot him.

At the center of the park, you recognize a figure from behind pushing a little girl on a swing. Before you can shake off your curiosity, your feet are already pulling you to him.

Eren flinches when he feels the tap on his shoulder, startling you in the process, as well.

“God,” he huffs, then immediately recoils in embarrassment. He turns his head to the side to keep you from noticing the red tint on his cheeks.

“I didn’t know I was so scary,” you say, face neutral.

He quirks an eyebrow.

“Not scary, just wicked quiet. Remind me to get a bell for your neck.”

You hold a hand up in rejection.

“I’ve got one at home.”

He laughs. Your eyes shimmer in amusement.

He’s wearing a black t-shirt and light-wash jeans. A small plastic bucket with toys in different colors and shapes hangs from his wrist.

You lean sideways to sneak a peek at the little girl who’s also curiously trying to get a look at you, but Eren’s so tall and broad she can’t manage to look around him before he steps aside. She can’t be older than three. Her blonde hair is put up into two pigtails, held by big pink hair bobbles, and her large brown eyes stare at you in wonder.

“Hi.”

Eren watches you wave at the little girl and smile. He can’t help but notice your voice is even softer when speaking to her. The flutter in his heart is evident, but he vowed earlier this week he would do his best to ignore this type of stuff when it happened.

“Josie, say hi.”

The little girl, Josie, offers you a small ‘hi’ in return before tugging on Eren’s jeans, signaling that she wants to be let down from the swing and go to the sandbox. He crouches down to her level.

“You want to play in the sandbox? Okay, little lady, let’s go.”

He looks up at you.

“You should stand back for this.”

Confused, though greatly entertained by the sight of Eren playing with a child, you follow his order.

He makes a loud swoosh sound, making a whole show of lifting Josie from the swing and spinning her around a couple of times, before zooming her to the sandbox a few steps away and setting her down on her feet while she strikes a landing pose. Josie happily giggles as she comfortably settles into the sand and Eren hands her the red plastic bucket of toys.

When he notices you’re staring at him, he nervously runs a hand through his hair.

“What?”

A light shake of your head is all you respond with, but he picks up on the way you’re holding back a smile. The two of you stand next to the sandbox, keeping a close eye on Josie.

“So you have a kid I didn’t know about?” you tease in your usual nonchalant manner.

“No!” he half-yells in a panic.

Red swirls his cheeks as he holds his hands up in defense. He clears his throat, embarrassed by his own reflexes, and stuffs his hands in his pockets.

“Are you sure? Because she looks an awful lot like you and you’re being very suspicious.”

The mortification on his face almost gets you to crack. Your eyes narrow in feigned suspicion.

He finally catches on and laughs.

“She’s my neighbor’s daughter,” he explains. “She's at work so I’m babysitting.”

You nod, your mouth taking on an ‘ah’ shape.

“We’re just friends,” he adds, eyeing you furtively.

You hum in response.

“Congratulations.”

The heat blanketing Eren’s face is overwhelming.

It’s barely been a week since you turned him down. Of course, there’s no reason for you to be concerned about his relationship with other women. He didn’t plan on avoiding you — far from it — but there hasn’t been enough time for him to find a balance that allows him to get closer to you without breaking your boundaries and stirring his feelings.

Idiot, he thinks to himself.

“I should get going,” you say after a moment of silence, readjusting the straps on your shoulder.

Eren straightens his back, ready to offer to walk you to the stop to stretch out this chance encounter.

Josie stands and toddles in your direction, her hand holding out a purple plastic mold.

“Play,” she demands before going back to her bucket to retrieve a second mold for Eren.

“Oh,” you murmur, hesitating as you steal a glance at your watch.

Eren holds his breath, not wanting to see you go so soon. He watches you quizzically stare down at the toy in your hands before crouching down to assist in Josie’s castle construction.

Nice one, Josie, Eren thinks. He shoots an approving grin to his unknowing accomplice.

He crouches down next to you, stacking sand into his blue mold.

“So, what brings you around my side of town?” he asks as he packs sand into his tower-shaped mold.

“Oh, you know, I love a good playdate.”

You shrug. He laughs through his nose. Your lips curve upwards at the sound.

“The grocery store near my house is closed for renovations so I took the bus here,” you explain. “It’s not far, I’m in the next town over.”

He nods.

Lucky, he thinks, smiling to himself.

Eren Jaeger is a bit of a romantic. Coincidences like this one have the power to feed any delusions further. He can’t help but see signs in mundane situations, and luck is clearly biased toward him if it’s placing you in his path. Even if you’re meant to be just friends, he’s grateful for the opportunity to be with you in an unexpected setting.

“You get to watch Josie a lot?” you ask, barely peeling your focus from slowly revealing the small castle from under your assigned mold. Your brows are furrowed in concentration.

Eren’s face lights up in amusement at your seriousness over the task.

“Sometimes.” He shrugs. “Her usual babysitter cancels every now and then. I’m at home a lot, so it works out.”

You smile at him. His face warms, but he reciprocates.

“Plus, Josie and I are best buds. Right, Josie?”

He shoots her an enthusiastic grin, one that she does not return.

Josie quietly side-eyes him before returning to her more interesting task of decorating every little sand construction with a few stray leaves.

You stifle a laugh.

“She's just shy,” he explains.

“Of course.”

The three of you continue working in comfortable silence.

By the time the orange hues of the sky start to make way for the cool blues of night, Eren is helping Josie place a final decorative leaf as a flag on one of the towers.

“What do you think, Josie?” you ask, tilting your head and smiling warmly at the little girl.

Josie beams up at you, her eyes twinkling with delight.

“Pretty!”

Your smile grows and you offer her a high-five for a job well done.

“I think so, too.” You turn to Eren. “What do you think, Eren?”

He hesitates, his eyes wandering the details of your face. He's found you attractive from the start. But now, your eyes sparkle with glee. Your smile is brighter and overall, there's a lightness surrounding you that he hadn't seen until now. It's different from the night at Armin's after a few drinks. It's different from when you smile after teasing him. You look carefree and young. You're practically glowing.

“The prettiest.”

If you notice the blush on his cheeks, you don't say anything. But he doubts you did since all you do is offer him the same high-five you did to Josie before standing and brushing your knees off.

Just as you're about to bid goodbye, a voice cuts you off from a few feet away.

“Eren!”

You look around him to find a petite blonde in scrubs making her way to where you both stand.

“Mama!” Josie squeals and meets her halfway, grabbing onto her mother's leg when she does.

“I got your text earlier. I didn't think you'd still be here,” Josie’s mom says once she's close enough.

“Yeah, we kind of lost track of time,” Eren sheepishly explains.

Her gaze wanders over to you, causing Eren to step back and allow you a better view. She's got the same blonde hair and round eyes as Josie, except hers are blue. She seems younger, though you figure that's due to her small figure.

Eren introduces you.

“She's my friend,” he adds softly.

“Hi,” she merrily greets you, offering her hand to shake. “I'm Christa. I'm Eren's neighbor.”

You politely nod and respond with a low ‘nice to meet you’.

Eren watches you closely. The glow you previously radiated has vanished. You've stepped back into your quiet self — the way you were when he bumped into you at Kuchel that very first day.

Before he can say anything, Christa's voice breaks through his thoughts.

“Thanks for looking after Josie again. I hope she didn't give you much trouble.”

Eren waves her off.

“Not at all. We're best buds, aren't we?” He looks down at Josie expectantly, holding up his right hand.

“Yeah!” The little girl cheers and stretches on her toes to meet his high-five.

While Christa looks down affectionately at her daughter, Eren tosses you a playfully arrogant look.

“Told ya.”

The corners of your lips tug into a smile.

“We should get going, I gotta give this one a good bath,” Christa says, squeezing her daughter's hand.

Eren scrambles to collect Josie’s toys into the red plastic bucket and hands them to her.

“Thanks again, Eren. You're always saving me. I'll make you dinner sometime, promise,” she says.

Eren dismisses her with a wave of his hand.

“Nah. I'm happy to do it.”

Christa and Josie bid their goodbyes and walk away, leaving you and Eren alone.

Before you can tell him to head home with them — that you're leaving, too — he smiles at you.

“I'll walk you to the stop,” he offers, pointing a finger in its direction.

“You don't have to.”

He shakes his head.

“I want to. Besides, it's getting dark.”

He kills your chance to protest by smoothly taking the bag from your shoulder and walking ahead, leaving you no choice but to follow.

“You could at least let me carry my own bag,” you mutter beside him, yet make no move to take it back.

“It's fine,” he assures you.

It's a short walk to the bus stop. You're surprised when he doesn't leave after reaching the bench and instead plops down to wait with you. It's like he can't bear to leave you alone and you can't help but feel a bit guilty that you're troubling him. The weather is getting cooler by the day and he's not even wearing a jacket.

“You can head home, it's getting cold. I can wait alone.”

He shakes his head again.

“What kind of friend would I be if I didn't see you off? I'm fine, really.”

You stare at him quizzically but say nothing.

The minutes tick away to the beat of passing cars and snippets of strangers’ conversations as they walk by.

“What's your favorite season?” Eren asks.

You look up at Eren, confused.

“Huh?”

“I like fall because of all the colors. And it's really cozy, you know? But I hate the weather getting cold. So summer is better, in that sense.”

You nod along and hum in thought.

“I like summer, too.”

“Yeah?” he smiles at you.

“I don't do well with cold weather, either,” you admit. “I hate it.”

“Hm. Interesting, very interesting.” He rubs at his chin, brow furrowed, and head tilted in thought. “What about cold things? Ice cream, shaved ice, iced coffee, beer?”

You perk up in amusement. Your legs swing back and forth as you contemplate his question. He watches you with a smile.

“Yes, to the ice cream and shaved ice. No, to the iced coffee and beer.”

“So no cracking a cold one if it's a billion degrees outside?”

You shrug.

“I don't like bitter things.”

Eren's heart skips a beat.

“What about you?”

“Same answer.”

You nod, oblivious to the effect this small similarity bears on the man beside you.

A bus approaches, the orange lights from the LED screen marking the route for your way home.

“That's me,” you say, standing.

Eren mirrors your actions and hands you your bag. Your fingers brush together in the process, causing his cheeks to warm.

“Thanks for keeping me company.”

You smile at him.

Eren nods, his lips curling inwards as he rocks his weight on his feet.

“See you around.”

“Bye, Eren.”

Week 3

The contents of your trusty tote jostle around as you lightly jog up the steps of the familiar apartment building.

You're buzzed in within seconds without any need to announce your arrival through the intercom.

Armin has called in sick two days in a row. The cooling temperatures caught up to him through a cold. Although his text read it wasn't anything serious, you worried he'd feel a bit lonely and offered to bring some medicine as an excuse. You're mildly afraid of intruding, but he's your closest friend and you can't help but be overruled by your worry.

The door to Armin's apartment is cracked open from what you can see as you round the corner. What you don't expect is the person leaning against the wall waiting for you not to be Armin himself.

He looks up from his phone when he hears your steps coming closer.

“Hey.” A boyish smile takes over his lips, green eyes lighting up at the sight of you.

“Eren.”

He takes the bag from your shoulder and steps aside so you can walk in. You shrug your coat off, hanging it on the rack by the door.

“What are you doing here?”

He shrugs.

“Same as you.”

It's only now that you spare a moment to take in his appearance.

“Nice apron,” you point out.

He blushes, crossing his arms to cover the ‘This guy rubs his own meat’ plastered in big bold letters across the chest.

“It's Armin’s,” he groans.

An airy laugh pushes past your lips. Your hand comes up to cover your mouth. It only makes Eren blush harder.

“Come on, he’s in the kitchen.”

The deeper you walk into the apartment, the stronger the smell of a hearty soup permeates the air.

As you step into the kitchen, you find Armin sitting at the bar with a blanket draped over his head and cascading down his back like a cape. When he turns to look at you, you register his glassy eyes and the reddened tip of his nose. He sniffles but smiles.

“Oh, Armin.” You walk up to him and pat his back. “How are you feeling?”

“Super great, I feel like I'm dying.”

Your lips curve in amusement.

“Don't worry, buddy. You always pull through.” Eren shoots him a sympathetic smile as he pulls out a cutting board and knife to dice some carrots.

“I brought you some medicine…” you say as you travel over to where Eren placed your bag on the counter. “A sports drink, a box of tissues, and some oranges.” You list everything off as you take every item from your bag and place it on the counter.

Eren puts his carrots on hold to grab the bag of oranges to wash.

Armin smiles at you gratefully.

“Thank you. I really appreciate all this.”

Eren clears his throat loudly, handing him a freshly washed orange before placing the rest into a bowl.

“Thank you, too, Eren.” Armin accepts the orange, digging a nail in to start peeling it. “You guys are so nice, I'm lucky to ha–”

His statement is cut short by a shiver-inducing sneeze.

Eren watches him with his eyebrows upturned in concern.

“Go lie down, buddy. I'll bring you your soup when it's ready.”

“I'm fine,” Armin sniffles, reaching for the box of tissues you brought him.

“No offense, but I can't cook if you're gonna be sneezing all over the place.” Eren flails his hand around. “Go. Now.”

Begrudgingly, Armin trudges to his room, taking the box of tissues and his half-peeled orange with him.

Eren goes back to his carrots as soon as he hears Armin's bedroom door close.

“Can I help you with anything?” you ask, watching his agile hands steadily cut the last of the carrots and sliding them off the board and into the boiling pot.

A shrill whistle pierces through the room. Eren turns off one of the burners warming a tea kettle.

“Yeah, actually, can you get a mug for me? They're over there.” He points to one of the cupboards before turning back to grab a box of tea bags from a different one.

You retrieve a mug and help him pour the hot water into it, watching as a light brown color swirls from the tea bag and a chamomile scent infiltrates your nostrils.

“Honey,” you murmur watching Eren carefully transport a spoonful of it from the jar to the mug.

“Yeah,” he murmurs back, smiling.

His gaze flits to your face, watching you observe his hands stir the spoon inside the mug. There's a hint of fascination in your eyes as you watch the golden puddle from the spoon dissolve.

“I'm gonna take this to his room.”

You watch him leave.

When he gets back just seconds later, you're next to the stove, stirring the wooden spoon around the soup pot.

“It'll still be a few minutes,” he says. “Sit down.”

He gestures to one of the chairs at the bar. You sit.

“Want an orange?” He nods toward the bowl holding the oranges you brought.

You hesitate. He smiles.

“Armin won't mind.”

You take one. So does he.

“How've you been?” he asks, swiftly peeling half of his orange in one go.

“I've been okay. Lunch is a bit boring without Armin, though.” You struggle to find a good spot to start peeling your orange. You dig your nail in and start to pull, only for the peel to thin out and cut off unsatisfactorily.

He hums in thought as he chews on the first piece of his orange.

“Have you been going to the coffee shop?”

You nod and try at your peel again. The same result.

“It's not the same. I'm kind of used to having company now.”

Eren’s fingers brush over your own as he takes the orange from your hands and peels it in smooth motions. He places the peeled orange back in your hands and continues eating his without missing a beat.

“You should call me next time. I'll keep you company.”

There's a strange flutter in your stomach as your gaze shifts from the peeled orange to the man in front of you, who keeps his gaze low as he finishes his snack.

“I thought you were like a kid, but you're really dependable,” you murmur.

He scrunches his eyebrows together, not fully understanding what you mean.

“Like a kid?” He smirks.

You shake your head, feeling silly all of a sudden.

“Armin asked me what I thought about you. I told him you were like a kid. But you're very different now.” You speak cautiously, afraid you might say the wrong thing without meaning to.

His eyes wander over the countertop as he mulls over your words.

“Is it the good kind?”

Your bottom lip is caught snugly between your teeth. Warmth pools in your stomach when you catch his fleeting attention to the movement.

“I think so.” Your voice barely wraps around the words.

A pink tint spreads across Eren's cheeks. He looks away, overcome by shyness.

“The soup's probably ready.” He stands, trying his best to hide his face from your view.

You're too preoccupied with the flutter in your stomach. With the uneaten orange in your hands, you abruptly stand. The chair scrapes against the floor, grabbing Eren’s attention.

“I should go. I have a ton of stuff to do at home.”

He sets down the bowl of soup in his hands.

“Are you sure? You should eat before you go. I can make us something else, just give me a minute.”

He starts looking around the kitchen for ingredients. You stop him.

“It's fine, really.”

Embarrassment aside, Eren isn't ready to see you go — not that he ever is. His gaze travels from your face, down to your hands.

“You haven't eaten your orange,” he notes.

You look down to where he’s focusing and your eyebrows rise in surprise, like you hadn't noticed.

“I'll just eat this on my way home. Tell Armin bye for me.”

Eren can barely hide his disappointment.

“I'll see you around, then. Be careful.”

“Bye, Eren.”

On the way home, your mind is littered with flashes of Eren's hands peeling your orange.

It's strange the things that can change the light one views other people in. True to your word, Eren is a clumsy kid trapped in an adult body. But today was different. He was strong and capable, which definitely triggered something inside of you.

Week 5

“Is there a limit to how much we can take home?” Connie asks.

Jean stares him down with a hand on his hip.

He's gone all out for the trip. He's decked out in denim jeans and a jacket, a plaid flannel shirt, and a wide-brim straw hat to top it all off.

“Just how many apples are you planning to bring home to ask that?”

It's the first time you're getting together with everyone since the night you met at Armin's apartment.

If one were to scroll through the messages exchanged in the group chat, they'd find several discarded plans — sometimes someone didn't have time to meet, the weather was wrong, or the mood wasn't right — that ultimately ended in Armin's suggestion to go apple-picking together.

The stars aligned in everyone's favor. It's the perfect weekend, the perfect weather, and everyone is up for it.

You're all gathered in the parking lot of Armin's apartment complex, helping him carry some basic supplies for the road to Jean's and Eren's cars — water, snacks, a first-aid kit, and other miscellaneous things. All seven of you could fit perfectly in Jean's SUV, but you figured it best to split into two groups considering you'll be coming back with a hefty supply of apples.

“You pay for a bag and you take home whatever fits,” Eren explains as he sets a pack of bottled water into the trunk of his car.

“Take off that stupid hat, Jean.”

Eren proceeds to smack Jean on the back of his head, flinging his hat away in the process.

“Hey, mock me all you want but this is fashion.” Jean dusts off his hat and fixes it on his head again, pulling at the drawstring to keep it more secure this time. “You just don't get it.”

“It's stupid,” Eren reiterates.

You place a neatly folded picnic blanket on top of the pack of water. You can hear both men get into a tussle behind you as you shut the trunk door.

“I think you look nice, Jean.”

Your words put a halt to their roughhousing.

Jean shoots Eren a cocky look, to which he just rolls his eyes.

“You’re not serious,” Eren huffs.

“I am.” You turn to Jean. “You look very spiffy.”

A secretive spark lights up your eyes when you look back at Eren as Jean proudly looks down at his outfit.

Eren’s lips curl inwards as he suppresses a grin and nods in understanding.

“I apologize, Jean. You've got a good look going here.” He pats him roughly on the back before rounding the car to settle in the driver's seat.

Armin claps his hands to get everyone's attention.

“Alright everybody, let's go!”

Everyone starts climbing into separate cars. Jean, Connie, and Sasha in one; the rest in the other.

“You should ride in the front with Eren.” Armin comes up behind you and gestures toward the copilot door.

You nod and climb in.

The ride is peaceful. The fresh air combs through your hair as the music flows in and out, keeping any silence at bay.

Armin excitedly talks about how perfect the time is to go apple-picking and that he's been looking forward to it for the past week.

“It's been years. Last time we went apple-picking we were like, what, eight? We had to pick from dwarf trees.”

Mikasa hums in confirmation.

“Have you ever been apple-picking before?” she asks you in between popping chips into her mouth.

“Never,” you tell her. “I've always wanted to go, though. It looks fun.”

You nurse the tin of salted peanuts in your hands. You've been looking forward to this small trip since Armin suggested it. In your life, there haven't been many chances to do fun things like this. Money was tight and, even if it wasn't, your family life didn't leave much room to ask for things that seemed like a waste of time.

You pop a cashew into your mouth and chew on it slowly as the car stops at a red light. There's a burning sensation on the left side of your face. When you look up, you're met with Eren's gaze.

You okay? he mouths.

Nervously, you glance at the backseat. Armin and Mikasa are distracted by their own secret conversation.

Looking back at Eren, you nod. A warm glow blooms in your chest when his lips curve into a small smile. Before you can reciprocate, the moment is cut short by a green light.

You're not sure when things came to be so comfortable around Eren. Minus the unexpected fluster you faced the day you went to visit Armin, things seem to flow easier now. It's nice, albeit that funny feeling inside you can't seem to dissipate.

Eating peanuts keeps you distracted. It's only when you're halfway through the small tin, you realize Eren is the only one who hasn't been snacking during the drive. As copilot, you should have been sooner aware of your responsibility to keep him fed as his hands were on the wheel.

Dubiously, you look down at the remaining peanuts and pick one, glancing at Eren for an opening. He's laser-focused on the road, eyes darting briefly to either side when a lane switch is to be made, or to check his course on the map on his phone. His large hands are steady and swift on the wheel — he makes driving look so easy.

“Eren,” you call him softly.

It’s so low, it could've been easy to miss with the sound of the wind and the music combined. But his ears are finely tuned to pick out your voice, especially if it holds his name.

“Hm?” His eyebrows rise in question as his gaze flashes once to your face, to the road, and once to the peanut in your hand.

Realization blankets his face in rosy tones, and he leans over, peeling his eyes off the road for just a second long enough to accept your offering. His lips brush along the tips of your fingers, causing both of you to pull back.

“Thanks,” he murmurs shyly.

You nod even though he can't see, though he catches a flicker of the movement from his peripheral vision.

Neither of you is aware of the elbow nudges exchanged in the back seat as two pairs of amused eyes take in the scene.

The rest of the drive goes by in silence. You offer to feed Eren some more but he meekly declines.

Sunrise Orchards comes into view sooner than you expected. The grounds are enclosed by a tall ornate gate, the steel curving into the shapes of different fruits — apples included — leaves, and birds.

The car comes to a stop in an open spot of the dirt parking space. You all step out of the car and wait. Jean's car zooms into the next space seconds later, and you all head together to the entrance to purchase your bags.

From where you stand, the path is lined with a few small buildings — a store, restrooms, sheds, and a cafeteria. Moving forward, rows of fruit trees stretch as far as the eye can see. Colorful ladders are scattered amongst the trees. Birds are chirping and there's a faint trace of laughter coming from somewhere you can't pinpoint. There's a bit of wind, but it's bearable. The sun peeks through the clouds every now and then to cast warmth on your skin.

You adjust the cap on your head, pulling on the strap so it fits comfortably. Eren's wearing one, too — black, to match his t-shirt. It suits him.

After you each have your bag — Connie and Sasha each bought a bushel bag —, the apple-picking begins. Your group is guided to a section full of apple trees by a man well into his sixties. A few branches hang low due to the weight of the fruit. A couple have plopped down to the ground, bruised by the fall, but still good enough to grab if you're not picky.

The guide explains the best varieties this season. There's Cortland and Red, Gala and Granny Smith. He gives a brief demonstration on how to pick the apples without too much hassle — to lift and twist them instead of pulling them down.

“Aside from color, you can tell an apple is ripe if it's firm to the touch. Feel free to use the ladders, and I'll leave some scissors and gloves here for ya if you don't want to get your hands too dirty.” The old man hands a box with supplies to Armin.

“And make sure you get a slice of pie from the cafeteria before you head out. My wife makes it herself.” The old man beams before turning on his heel and leaving you to explore the area.

A collective “thank you” rises from the group and you begin to wander in different directions, looking to find the tree with the shiniest, most vibrant fruit. Mikasa and Jean debate on what apple is best for homemade cider. You wander away from the group, not paying much attention to what seems more appetizing or coming up with things to cook up later. Even just walking amongst the trees is time well spent. The sun sifts through the scarce bare spots among the branches. The sweetness in the air soothes you, enveloping you in pure bliss.

You pass a picket sign with directions written in different colors, pointing to the sections where every apple variety is found.

You don't notice Eren trailing behind you. Not on purpose, it just turned out this way. So when you feel a tap on your shoulder, you whirl around with wide eyes and a hand to your heart.

“I didn't know I was so scary,” he teases.

You deadpan him, but your lips eventually succumb to a smile.

“Headed for the Cortland apples?” he asks, swinging his bag back and forth as you walk alongside each other.

You shrug.

“I don't really know what to pick yet,” you admit. “I'm just looking around.”

“Well, what's your favorite apple?”

“I don't know. I haven't tried them all, so I can't say for sure.”

“Well, which one is your favorite now?” he insists.

A few seconds go by as you think it over.

“Pink lady.”

He smiles at you.

“Yeah? Why?”

“The name's fancy.” You shrug. He laughs. You join him. “And they're pretty.”

He hums in response, a satisfied smile still lingering on his face.

“We probably should've gone to an orchard with pink ladies, then.”

You smile.

“It's fine. This place is nice.”

You reach the Cortland section. When you look back, the rest of the group is still in view, but far enough for Sasha’s excited exclamations to sound like whispers.

Eren fixes a ladder against a tree, shaking it a bit to test its sturdiness. You hurry over to hold the ladder in place. He smiles at you gratefully before climbing up a couple of steps to reach for the apples he eyed from below.

“Do you like cider?” he asks as he twists an apple off a branch.

“Yeah, why?” You squint up at him, a sudden surge of sunlight coming in through the leaves and blanketing his features.

He adds three more apples to his bag and climbs down.

“Just wondering,” he grins, eyes sparkling, though you think that might be an effect of the sunlight. You rub your eyes to clear your vision.

Your stroll continues.

“What do you plan on making with your apples?” he asks, turning around so he's walking backward as he waits for your answer.

“You're gonna trip and fall,” you point out.

“I'll just say you pushed me.” He shrugs.

Your eyes narrow. He laughs.

You shake your head and turn your attention to the trees, searching for any good picks. After all, that's why you're here.

“I don't know,” you murmur. “I might bake a pie… or eat them with caramel.”

You stop in front of a tree. It's a couple of feet taller than the rest, but the juicy reds stand out among the leaves.

You look around in search of a ladder and spot one in the next tree over. Eren helps you adjust it against the trunk.

“I might bake a cake,” you continue. “Or toss them in cream and walnuts.” Eren hums along, encouraging you to keep listing your options. Your face suddenly lights up. “Oh! I found a recipe the other day for apple cinnamon crepes.”

He mirrors the grin on your face as he holds down the wooden ladder and you climb up. The steps feel like they bend under your weight.

“Yeah, I definitely have to make those.” The excitement is evident in your voice. Confidence marks every twist and toss of the apples you pick, upon your newfound objective.

“Hm… so you’re big on cooking?” Eren voices beneath you. He wants to make something of his apples, too, but he knows he'll end up having most of them as they are, whole or cut up in slices — just to mix things up.

You smile down at him.

“Yeah, I am.”

Eren recites your answers under his breath. The last apple lands in your bag and you finally start to make your way down. You climbed up a couple more steps in the process of your apple-picking, so you've got somewhat of a long way down to go.

“Be careful,” Eren says, to which you nod. “Here, give me your bag.” He holds out a hand once you're low enough, so you can focus on getting down safely. The straps slide along his arm, resting at last in the crook of his elbow as he attentively supervises your descent.

Every now and then, your depth perception fails you. It'll convince you you're about to miss a step on the stairs or make one up out of thin air. You'll be tricked into believing you're about to step on a flat surface instead of one that rises, and vice-versa. But you can't blame your depth perception for what happens, for it's the second to last step that snaps and causes you to lose balance, and stumble down, twisting your ankle in the process.

Eren’s arm wraps around your waist, but his reflexes aren't quick enough to save you from all harm. The sting around your ankle is there, along with a small trickle of blood, likely the work of the splintered step.

A painful whine escapes your lips as you curl into Eren’s chest.

“It's okay, I got you, it's okay,” Eren comforts you, pressing you further into his chest. He doesn't realize you're hurt until you step back with a wince and look down at your feet.

He's crouched on the ground, back to you, in a split second.

“Come on. Armin brought a first-aid kit, it's in the car.”

You hesitate, not wanting to trouble him. But when you try to take another step to prove you can walk, the pain shoots up your leg once more.

Eren’s arms wrap firmly around your legs, while yours cling tightly to his shoulders.

“I'm okay,” you insist. “I don't think I broke anything, I just twisted it.”

When Eren doesn't reply immediately, a dreadful sense of guilt settles at the pit of your stomach. A good time has been ruined and it's all your fault.

Like always.

“Still,” Eren murmurs. “I'm worried. You scared me back there.” There's a trace of anxiety lingering in his voice from when he caught your fall.

The flutter in your stomach makes its reappearance. Your gaze meets with his side profile, at least the most you can see from your angle. His face is serious, brows pulled together in either worry or determination, you're not sure.

“I can hop on one foot the rest of the way if I'm too heavy.”

He laughs through his nose. The corners of your lips tug into a smile, cheeks warm, and eyes fixed on the shift in his features.

“I don't mind carrying you.”

The warmth from his skin trespasses every layer of clothing. The scent he emanates is a mix of vanilla and sweat from his physical efforts this morning — it's comforting.

As you near the group, you find yourself sinking into him, your head leaning into his shoulder, cheek pressed against his ear, and arms squeezing around him just a little tighter.

“What happened?”

Armin is the first to notice your return, and he rushes to your side to inspect for any other injuries.

“Eren pushed me,” you say in as serious a tone as you can muster, shaking your head in feigned disappointment.

Gasps erupt from everyone, to which Eren immediately protests.

“Wha– I didn't push her!” His eyebrows upturn in hurt from everyone's sudden betrayal. “Do you really believe I would do that?”

Nonsensical mumbles arise, paired with shrugs and a single ‘she's pretty credible’.

Eren rolls his eyes.

“We should get you to a doctor,” Armin states. Everyone starts gathering their things on the spot.

“No, no. I'm fine, really. I'm pretty sure I just twisted it.”

“We're going to the car. You guys stay here. We'll let you know if we need to leave.” Eren's voice is strong and commanding. It's different from his usual self.

He carries you the rest of the way to the parking lot, a chorus of encouraging words fading behind you the further you get. You're stopped near the entrance by the old man who served as your guide earlier, and Eren calmly explains what happened. You apologize for the broken ladder, to which the old man apologizes in an even more profuse manner for being at fault for your injury.

When you finally make it to the car, Eren opens the trunk door and sets you down carefully, before rummaging for the first-aid kit. He pulls out a small bottle of alcohol and a cotton pad to clean the cut on your leg.

You hiss at the contact.

“Sorry.”

The crease in Eren's forehead deepens as he focuses on leaving your skin clean. In stark contrast to the stinging sensation produced by the alcohol, his touch is gentle. He eyes you every few seconds, making sure you're okay.

The butterflies in his stomach stir wildly when your eyes happen to meet with his, but it’s been getting easier to ignore the effect you have on them than before. He’s proud to say he’s come a long way and can keep himself in check. That’s not to say you hold any less power than the day you met.

“I’m gonna check your ankle, okay?” he warns calmly, only acting on his word once you nod in approval.

He rotates your foot carefully, gauging your reaction to the movement.

With great care, he begins pressing the pads of his fingers into your ankle, massaging the area while looking for any signs of swelling or protuberances that shouldn’t be there.

“I feel bad,” you murmur.

“Does it hurt?” Eren pulls back his hand.

You shake your head.

“No. I mean, yes, a little. But I wasn’t talking about that.” You sigh. “I just feel bad for causing trouble.”

Eren can feel his heart sinking when you look up at him with sadness clouding your gaze.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “We were having a nice time and I ruined it.”

It takes a second for him to recover. Now that it’s just the two of you, the disappointment you held back just moments ago in front of everyone else surfaces on your face.

He clears his throat and continues massaging your ankle.

“Nothing to be sorry about. It could’ve happened to anybody.”

You chew on your bottom lip. You’re sure it’s true, but it doesn’t ease the guilt that it had to happen to you.

“Jean is allergic to bees. He could’ve easily been stung by one and we’d have to go,” Eren laughs.

His attempt at comforting you fails. You nod out of courtesy, but keep your head low.

The two of you are quiet for a moment. Eren wants to make you feel better. On the way to Sunrise Orchards, you said you’ve never been apple-picking. That’s got to play a major part in your defeated demeanor.

“We can come back next year,” he suggests. “And there's a ton of other fun stuff we can do together. You can pick next time. What would you like?”

He sits straighter when you start humming in thought.

“Hm… I don’t know. There’s a lot I want to do but it’s pretty basic stuff. It’s kind of embarrassing.”

“Tell me. What's something you've always wanted to do?”

A nervous shiver runs along your spine as you tightly clasp your hands together. Eren waits patiently, tilting his head and boyishly smiling at you as you build the courage to speak.

“I want to spend a day at the beach.”

“Beach day,” Eren echoes slowly. “You like to swim?”

You look away, embarrassed.

“I don’t know how.”

“No worries, I can teach you.” His gaze travels to the sky, lips pressed tight as he comes up with what to ask you next. “What else? What’s your favorite thing to do in… the winter?”

You freeze. Images of your younger self locked out in the snow, crying, flash behind your eyes.

I’m sick of you here!

“Um… I don’t really have anything in mind.”

“That’s okay,” he grins. “We can find something. Do you like hot chocolate?”

You nod.

“With peppermint or marshmallows?”

“Both.”

“Popcorn?”

You nod again.

“Movies?”

You nod a third time.

“Ugly sweaters? Tacky pajamas?”

“I don’t think so,” you laugh.

“Okay, okay,” he laughs, too. “Do you like fireworks?”

With narrowed eyes, you reply “Maybe”.

“I’ll take that as a yes. We’ll get together one night and wreak havoc.”

You giggle.

The two of you fall into a comfortable silence, the only sounds coming from far away on the other side of the steel gate. The pain in your ankle has long subsided, yet your leg remains resting on Eren’s lap, as his thumb gently brushes along your skin.

“Why do you ask me so many questions?”

“What do you mean?” His face contorts in an attempt to look confused, but it’s clear he’s aware of his actions.

“I just feel like you’ve asked me a ton of questions today. The other night, too. It was a bit random.”

There’s a pause. The strokes on your ankle come to a stop as his hand simply rests there. You wait with bated breath and a thumping heart for him to respond.

“Because I want to know you.”

It’s like you’ve been plagued with a serious case of butterflies. They can’t seem to stop stirring.

“I like hearing you talk, even if it's about random things. Don't get me wrong, I'm curious about the more serious stuff, too… if you ever want to talk to me.”

Shame washes over you, leaving your head hung low so he can’t see the way your lips tremble at the thought of burdening him with said serious stuff.

Eren’s all too worried about regaining control of his body temperature to notice. He slides his cap off and runs a shaky hand through his hair.

“I’m curious about everything.” His voice blooms warmth in your heart. “It's just… nice to learn about you.”

“Were you this nosy with all your other friends?” You’re trying to ease the situation, trying to poke fun in some way, but your voice comes out with cracks.

He locks eyes with you.

“No.”

Eren is a nice guy — in the purest sense of the word. For someone so self-aware, it's only now that everything starts catching up to you.

The warmth in your stomach, the ease of conversation laced with a sneaky hint of tension in more recent times, the admiration you feel when watching him behave so caring and dependable — it all washes over you like ice water, eliciting goosebumps on your skin and a shiver down your back.

It finally hits you.

“Oh,” you say.

“Yeah,” he whispers.

More silence paired with shy aversions of each other’s gaze. Then, Eren clears his throat and straightens his posture a little.

“They're huge narcissists, so it doesn't take much to get them talking about themselves.”

His eyes roll, and his nose scrunches in feigned disgust.

The tension fades as you lose yourself in laughter. His eyes crinkle, and his classic boyish grin stretches across his face as he watches your eyes light up.

“Try to stand,” he says, setting your foot down from his lap and hoisting you up by the waist.

You try shifting your weight between your feet and moving your foot around to test for any lingering pain.

“Feel better?”

You smile up at him.

“Yeah.”

“Sorry for worrying you guys.”

After going on a short test walk around the parking lot, you were interrupted by Mikasa coming over to check on you. Seeing you walk just fine, she ushered you and Eren back inside to have lunch with the rest of the group. You all shared a simple meal back at the spot where you lost your footing. The old man and his wife felt so bad that you got hurt that they gifted you a pie from their shop which, of course, you shared with everyone.

“Don’t even mention it. Thanks to you, we got free dessert.” Mikasa happily pats her stomach to show her appreciation.

The ride home feels much shorter than when you were first headed for the orchard. Upon Armin’s insistence, Eren drops him and Mikasa off first. As he put it, if one did the math, Eren could save some handsome road time by making you his last stop.

With each person that gets out of the car, the ride grows more and more silent.

Eren knows he must focus on the road, but he can’t keep his mind from wandering. He gave himself away too soon by asking you out on your second time seeing each other — technically third — but he’s tried his best to keep it lowkey. You already know he likes you, and he knows you don’t see him that way, which is why he eased the tension with a joke back at the parking lot. He has to admit that talking to you has gotten easier, though. Instead of getting worked up over nothing and tripping over his words, he can ease up now. For a moment he hoped you were just a pretty face he needed to get used to, but no chance — you’re still as alluring as ever, and he’s still mesmerized just the same by every little thing you do, even more so. But he can’t hope you’ll feel the same way.

“Take the next right.”

Your voice has the power to anchor him at any given moment.

You’ve changed, too, he’s noticed. You’re smiling more, laughing more. You’ve grown comfortable around him, too. Or perhaps he’s just gotten better at evoking those things from you. Whatever the case, it swells him with pride.

“Right there.”

You point to an apartment building at the center of the block. It’s a tall brick building with vines twisting and turning, wrapping around window sills and down the walls.

He parks the car right in front and gets down to help you gather your things from the trunk — your bag of apples and a piece of leftover pie. Your fingers brush over his as you take hold of your stuff, leaving a tingling sensation on his hands.

“I know you got hurt, but did you have a nice time?” he asks, shielding his hands from the cold by stuffing them in his pockets.

You rock your weight on the balls of your feet, humming contemplatively.

“I did,” you finally say. “Thanks for keeping me company.”

“Anytime,” he replies — and he means it. “I’ll see you around, yeah?”

Smiling, you nod.

“Bye, Eren.”

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venus-haze · 11 months

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Brother's Keeper (Bo Sinclair x Reader)

Summary: You’re Vincent’s. You have been since you ended up in Ambrose. Bo decides it’s time to make an exception.

Note: Female reader, but no other descriptors are used. Please read the warnings before deciding whether you want to read. Before anyone asks, I’m already planning a Vincent-centric follow-up. Do not interact if you’re under 18 or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 2k

Warnings: Extremely dubious consent since reader is Vincent’s captive, elements of Stockholm syndrome, sadism (mentioned in reference to Vincent but also Bo to the reader), dacryphilia, slapping, blood, mommy kink, overstimulation, I guess cheating? There’s a lot going on in this. Do not interact if you’re under 18.

Even though your eyes were closed, you knew the man coming down the stairs wasn’t Vincent. He’d wordlessly disappeared up them about an hour earlier, no indication of where he was going or when he’d return. Unusual that he’d be gone for so long and not leave you a note with a vague idea of what was going on. Maybe it was urgent.

You hadn’t seen Bo in a while, though you’d certainly heard him plenty of times. While Vincent had a knack for slinking around like a cat, Bo reminded you of a wolf, howling loud with his razor sharp teeth on display. All the better to eat you with. You had the feeling that if he’d gotten to you first, he would have taken up hunting you for sport.

You sat up, blinking your eyes open. They didn’t need to adjust to the dim lighting anymore. The last time Vincent had brought you upstairs for the shower you begged for (and now felt long overdue for another), you were dismayed to find the bright lights stung your eyes. You asked him to just turn off the lights altogether. The longer you spent there in his studio—lair, as you’d come to personally refer to it—with him, the more like him you were becoming, slowly but surely made in his image.

Bo’s eyes were dark in the basement where Vincent kept you and all of his other art supplies. For the longest time, you thought his eyes, and, in turn, Vincent’s, were brown. Instead, they were a raging, stormy blue that threatened to drown you in their depths if you stared too long.

“You just sleep all day, huh? Leave us to do all the work?” There was a joking lilt to his accusatory tone.

Though you knew better than to protest, you desperately wanted to. Being Vincent’s muse was unforgiving work. You were available to him at all times, posed and molded and used whenever he felt so inclined. Your body had been the victim of several bouts of artist’s block, bearing the scars of his frustration and inspiration. Most of them were due to candle wax burns.

“Sorry,” you mumbled.

Bo’s eyes raked over your body, nearly nude save for the thin t-shirt and athletic shorts that barely reached your mid-thigh. Humiliation coursed through you when Vincent first presented you with the clothing, your size, taken from someone who was too dead to miss them, probably. The first clean clothes you had since he first imprisoned you. You soon found it to be the best choice with how hot it could get in his lair when he was working. Practical until that moment, when it left you exposed to Bo’s hunger for a handful of flesh.

“You look good. Vincent always took better care of his toys than I did,” Bo said with a grin, his tone eerily playful. “Mama said I was too rough.”

The chain around your ankle rattled as Bo pushed you back onto the bed. Less restraints than when you’d first been brought there, but you couldn’t parse a rhyme or reason as to what compelled Vincent to grant you these minute freedoms.

“Please don’t,” you whispered. “He’ll know.” He knows everything.

Whether you were easy to read or he was just observant, you had slowly convinced yourself Vincent was omniscient. Your captor was an otherworldly entity, aloof and removed from the messy emotions that you and the other poor, unfortunate souls who found yourselves in his lair were burdened with. He moved coolly, without care, without remorse.

If Vincent were merely a man, what little bit of sanity you were clinging to would unravel. A man was vulnerable, conquerable, real. Like Bo. Brash and impulsive to contrast his twin. He unsettled you more than your silent captor. After god knows how long of being met with Vincent’s cold, emotionless wax face, the way Bo’s shifted with each mood, each thought, left you feeling overwhelmed.

“Vince and me shared a lot growin’ up. He won’t mind,” he said, the alcohol on his breath burning your nostrils.

His lips parted with the intention to devour, like a snake unhinging its jaw to swallow you whole. You wondered how long he’d been drinking, how long Vincent would be gone for, how long Bo had wanted to do this. Bo wouldn’t kill you, but you knew he didn’t care if you were in one piece. He growled against your mouth, his lips bullying yours into kissing him back.

Satisfied with your reluctant return of affection, his attention turned elsewhere. Coarse hands slid up your shirt, roughly massaging your breasts. He pinched your nipples, eliciting a pained moan from you that only reached his mouth. Upon feeling his lips upturn, a siren went off in your mind. So used to blindly vying for the approval of your unknowable captor, you shouldn’t know he’s enjoying this.

He broke the kiss to pull your shirt over your head. Wasting no time, he latched his lips to one of your nipples while his hand attended to the other one. His teeth tugged at your nipple almost experimentally before biting down a bit harder.

Tears blurred your vision. Where the hell was Vincent? You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to will the sound of him walking purposefully across the floorboards above. Instead, you were met with silence and the sound of your own whimpering.

You released a breath you didn’t even know you’d been holding when Bo finally released your nipple from his mouth. He landed harsh slaps to each of your breasts, especially painful on the sensitive one he’d been—nursing on? Torturing was more like it.

A mean snarl had made its home on his face, reveling in your suffering at his hands. Rounding his arm back, his palm smacked against your cheek. And then it did again. And again. And again.

You could feel your lip split, your wailing echoing through the basement. He’ll know. Maybe that was what Bo wanted, because the slapping soon stopped.

“That’s it. Gimme those tears, mama,” he cooed, brushing his thumb against the wound he inflicted. He collected the blood that beaded at your lips and brought his finger to his mouth, sucking it clean.

Your brain felt fuzzy. Even worse, you could feel his words going straight to your pussy as it clenched around nothing but air.

“You cry this pretty for Vincent? Or just me?”

“J-Just you.”

He grinned. “Don’t I feel special.”

He slapped you one more time for good measure, harder than he had before. Your arms flew up to shield your face from further damage. His hands moved down your body instead, pulling your shorts down to your ankles.

Suddenly, you didn’t feel his hands on your at all, and you glanced down to see what’d given him pause. His gaze was fixed on your upper thigh where Vincent had neatly and painfully carved his initials into your flesh some time prior, long enough for the mark to scar over. Bo glanced at you, expression unreadable for a split second wherein you felt some relief.

His face soon betrayed his anger, and you felt your stomach drop upon hearing him unbuckle his belt. He then unzipped his jeans, pulling them and his underwear down to free his hard cock. There was no warning, no preparation as he pushed his length inside you. While the encounter hadn’t been about your pleasure in the first place, you realized with the pain between your legs that it’d turned into a punishment, and there was little you could do but lay back and take it.

“Lookit you, ‘bout to leave a wet spot in the fuckin’ mattress,” he mocked. “You’re a natural cockslut, ain’t you, mama?”

You earned another smack across the face for your silence.

“You answer me when I talk to you.”

“I’m a cockslut,” you forced out.

He groaned as tears rolled down your swollen cheeks. Still, his stamina proved to be more than you could handle, because your calves started to ache from flexing while being painfully close to orgasm. You choked out a sob, his pace relentless as he pounded into you. The metal bedframe clanged against the wall, a loud and ugly noise that made your skin crawl. It was as if he knew exactly what to do to make you feel like you were losing your mind.

“Gonna make you cum, mama. Leave you dreamin’ ‘bout my dick.” His words slurred together, probably from exerting so much energy in his intoxicated state.

You responded with a moan that sounded foreign coming from you. It was good enough for him, because he didn’t slap you this time, instead bringing his hand to your clit. His calloused fingers rubbed the sensitive bundle of nerves, and you grabbed his forearms for leverage.

“Know you’re close, way your pussy’s squeezin’ my dick. Wanna take it all, huh?”

“Wanna cum,” you moaned.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright then, cum,” he said, slapping your clit so hard you almost swore you saw stars.

Your hips bucked, and your orgasm blazed white-hot through your body, fire engulfing your muscles as they constricted, black spots hazing your vision. You thought you were going to pass out. Vincent had brought you to that point before, thought it was usually from pain rather than the pleasure that overwhelmed you.

Bo chased his own release, thrusts becoming sloppy as he got closer. “Fuckin’ whore, cum all over my cock like this.”

He finally bottomed out inside you. Your pussy clenched around his throbbing cock as he came, filling you with his cum. Cursing under his breath, he made eye contact with you, a lazy smirk spreading across his face.

He pulled out of you, licking his lips upon seeing his cum leak from your pussy onto the mattress beneath you. Physical evidence that he’d laid claim to you. The grown-up version of him messing with his brother’s toy. He was right about that much, at the end of the day, that’s what you were, biding your time until Vincent grew bored of you and moved onto something shiny and new.

Staring at the ceiling, you let out a shaky breath when you heard the sound of his pants zipper and then his belt buckle. There was no point in you pulling your flimsy articles of clothing back on. You jolted when he grabbed your unchained ankle.

“Thanks for the taste, darlin’,” he said with a wink, as if it were something you’d flirtingly suggested, a playful secret between the two of you.

After a few moments of silence, he disappeared upstairs unceremoniously. You listened to the sound of his heavy footfall until it became inaudible. The faint sound of a truck engine revving made you relax a bit. He was gone.

You laid motionless in the bed until Vincent finally returned, and it took everything in you not to scream at him. Where the fuck were you? He began walking toward you, freezing in place before rushing to your side. He knew. Your lip trembled at his concern. It wasn’t for your well-being as a person, you knew that much, but because you were his. His muse. His living, ongoing art piece.

He touched your shoulder tentatively, and you avoided making eye contact with his mask. Were you angry? Or ashamed?

His fingers moved to brush his initials in your skin.

“He didn’t care,” you whispered.

You hissed when his fingers dug into your thigh. He moved his other hand, signing, “It won’t happen again.”

You scoffed. No acknowledgement he fucked up. No apology. You should’ve known better to expect that much from Vincent. The half-assed promise was the closest you’d get. Part of you hated yourself for finding some comfort in the cold familiarity of his emotional distance.

Vincent looked at you, his blue eye staring down yours, a whirlpool threatening to drag you into its depth until you closed your eyes. You heard a light rustling, but nothing could have prepared you for the feeling of his scarred lips pressing gently against your forehead. The tenderness was a momentary reprieve, as you felt him lift his hand from your thigh. You heard him walk a few feet away, the metal stool he favored scraping against the concrete. Feigning sleep, you waited for him to join you in bed.

#bo sinclair x reader #slasher x reader #house of wax #house of wax 2005 #slasher fandom #slasher community #bo sinclair

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silly-l1ttle-guy · 5 months

Note

drop every headcanon of the bucci gang NOW!

ON IT BOSS!!!

--- pookie bear bruno hcs first <3

BRUNO BUCCIARATI IS 100% GAY FOR LEONE ABBACCHIO

they just kinda live together

bruabba holds a special place in my heart

bruno's probably stressed out 24/7

VERY FEMININE GUY

hes got soft features yk?

probably spends like 3 hours doing his hair in the morning

ISTG HE PROBABLY SMELLS SO GOOD

I like to think that he legally adopted Fugo after fugso bugso joined that gang

SHUT UP IT MAKES ME HAPPY

poor guy overworks himself WAY too often

he also has the most gorgeous eyelashes you'll ever see

and they're natural, too

THIS MAN HAS EYEBAGS

he's tired af half the time, idk what you expected

he tries to help fugo control his anger (bc he's a loving mother) (giorno does it better tho)

i reckon bruno's pansexual tbh, he just seems like he wouldn't give a shit about his partner's gender

he likes going fishing

brought Abbacchio along one time

abba got seasick and threw up

he likes to accessorize his hair (hence the mitochondria hair clips)

sometimes he'll let the others accessorize his hair, too

trish makes it look really cute

abba makes it look stunning (bc it's his boyfriend)

narancia just puts random shit in his hair

Mista sings loudly (and badly) to be a little shit while he does Bruno's hair (it turns out surprisingly ok)

giorno deadass just puts a shit ton of stars in his hair

fugo gets mad and almost rips a chunk of Bruno's hair out

Bruno's guilty pleasure is midnight snacks

abbacchio caught him eating a whole ass tub of ice cream while watching il postino: the postman at like 2 in the morning

they watched it together and cuddled afterwards

hot goth

gay for bruno

he probably watches those make up youtube channels

if he didn't join passione he could be a make up artist

lets trish practice on him

HE SEES NARANCIA AS HIS SON AND YOU CANNOT CONVINCE ME OTHERWISE

he's full on protective of nara too

i like to give abbacchio sharper features when i draw him tbh

also a larger nose

and while we're at it, let's hook that bad boy (the nose)

he and bruno go on wine testing dates

he has very frequent and reoccurring nightmares

(its why he sleeps with bruno)

his parents cut contact when they found out he was a dirty cop :(

this man saw narancia on his first day in the gang and accepted his fate as a father LMAO

he's a gay man and you can't tell he's not. Never felt attraction towards women

he feels like time moves by too fast. Everything happens so quickly and he wishes he could go back and just relive certain parts of his life over and over again because he feels like everything happens so quickly now that he's older and it overwhelms him (this definitely isn't me projecting what're you talking about)

moody blues is sort of the representation of this

SENTIENT MOODY BLUES SUPREMACY BY THE WAY

Moody blues is curvy and i won't accept anything else

make moody look goddamn feminine

not too feminine obviously but like

moody looks like a woman compared to abbacchio

tells people he can't dance but he definitely can

just play the right music and give him enough wine and he'll be dancing like he's never danced before (only in private tho)

YOOUU CAN DANCE, YOOUU CAN JIIVVEEEEE~~

EVERYTIME I LISTEN TO HALF-DECADE HANGOVER BY WILL WOOD I JUST THINK OF ABBACCHIO

and maybe euthanasia by will wood too

not even kidding, abbacchio has the same body type as a greek god

also the strongest guy in the team

the guy that has a dream

GIORNO. WHERE DO I FUCKING START.

I love this weird ass fucking guy

gay for fugo. that's all I'm gonna say.

I KNOW HE ACTED FRUITY W/ MISTA BUT IT'S BC HE'S A LITTLE SHIT WHO LIKES TO FLIRT WITH HIS FRIENDS AS A JOKE

not abba or bruno tho (they're too old for his taste)

remember that one seen where he and mista are up against cioccolata (fuck him btw) and they do that gay ass pose?

prime example of giorno being a little shit

putting his hand down mista's pants was an accident by the way, he just said "fuck it" and went with it

he probably showed the gang the thing he could do with his ear

they had very mixed reactions

one day (before the gang) he woke up and saw his roots were blond and he just went like "sigh, guess I have to grow my hair out and become barbie

THIS MAN RIGHT HERE IS THE TWINK

also bc his dad is dio I like to think that he sunburns easily

he can also see really well and the dark

"It's so dark in here, I can't see shit!" "I can, there's a light switch over there."

everyone was confused as hell bc it was pitch black in that room

this man is gay. he likes BOYS and BOYS ONLY

i like to think Giorno's a mischievous lil guy

he does something silly then giggles and runs away

it's to make up for the fact that he didn't have a proper childhood

ALSO CURLY HAIR GIORNO SUPREMACY

his hair is gorgeous and luxurious AND SO FUCKING CURLY

he uses about 20 hair products every day (21 if he's going on a date)

he can calm fugo down so easily too

"I'M GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU NARANCIA-" "Hi fugo!" "Oh, hey Giorno."

it's really scary (according to narancia and mista)

this man loves gardening

born to be a gardener, forced to be a gangstar

autistic (it runs in the family)

the stink

Mista is the type of guy who showers once or twice a week

he only washes his clothes when they get too dirty

I like to make this man a little wider honestly

GIVE THIS MAN SOME CHUB PLEASE

he's muscular, but he's gotta have a little meat on there too

I like to think that Mista outright REFUSES to shave

the only place that he can grow barely any hair is his face

never shaved his face. He doesn't have much facial hair and he'll be damned if he ever has to get rid of the little that he has

bffs with trish btw

they make fun of each other all the time

in a friendly way

he honestly looks the least gay out of everyone

probably bi with a heavy preference towards girls (he had a boyfriend one time tho)

STINKS SO BAD IT'S NOT EVEN FUNNY

sometimes he shoves Narancia's face in his armpit for fun

I'm not even kidding Narancia probably threw up one time bc Mista stank so bad

older brother figure to EVERYONE

Giorno? that's his baby brother. Narancia? his favourite brother. Trish? his little sister. Fugo? that's his angry little brother.

I have so many mista headcanons it's unreal

his hair is so fucking curly istg

and it's black too

very short tho. also super greasy

his love language is physical touch, but not in the usual physical touch way

he won't really hug people or hold hands or just do something normal, oh no

my guy likes to pick people up and throw them over his shoulder

it's definitely not to show off how strong he is

definitely

everything about him is so crusty

he literally gets along with anyone tho

you can't tell me this guy DOESN'T smoke weed

not very often but like

once every month or two he'll get high to relax

he stopped after Giorno took over as boss (bc yk, drugs are a no no)

he probably thinks France isn't real tbh (but as a joke to annoy fugo)

I HAVE MORE MISTA HEADCANONS BUT I HAVE TO CUT IT SHORT BECAUSE I NEED TO MOVE ON TO THE OTHERS

angry strawb (lots of angst in this one)

fugo is deeply in love with Giorno (FUGIO FOR LIFE)

a little bit of angst warning btw

bc of his past, fugo HATES physical touch

if someone touches him he will flinch

very uncomfortable in crowded places

Mista's love language is physical touch, but he refrains himself from touching Fugo

it's really sweet

"HEY FUGO! Lemme give you a high-five! Wait, no, you don't like that. Have this cool rock I found instead!"

he's trying

Fugo really appreciates it

after phf, he let Mista be one of the two people who can touch him (the other person is Giorno)

Fugo just randomly hugged him one day and that was that

he was really distraught when he found out Narancia, Bruno and abba died

especially Bruno

like I said before, Bruno adopted him after he joined the gang, so he genuinely saw Bruno as a father figure

definitely called Bruno "dad" in private

He genuinely cried when he realized he missed Bruno's funeral

MOVING ON TO THE NON ANGSTY STUFF BC IM GONNA CRY

when he's a bad mood, he listens to music with Abbacchio (his dad's cool boyfriend who he looks up to)

will correct any and all spelling or grammar mistakes

nerd supreme

i like to headcanon that Fugo's albino

(MANGA FUGO FOR LIFE)

he's really sensitive to sunlight because of it

his vision isn't that good, too

it's not bad enough to the point where he can't read and all that, but it definitely bothers him

since it wasn't too serious, he got some glasses that corrected his vision

he only really wears them when he's reading now, but he used to wear them all the time when he was younger

GOD I HAVE A LOT OF FUGO HEADCANONS

sometimes he wakes up and there's just a bouquet of flowers at the foot of his bed (I WONDER WHO THAT WAS HMMMM)

Narancia's like a little brother towards him

he doesn't care that nara's a year older than him, that's his brother

genuinely will forget to eat if he isn't reminded (me projecting)

i have more but i'm gonna have to end it here

BABY BOY <3

I LOVE NARANCIA I HAVE A NARANCIA PLUSHIE (and a giorno one but that's less important)

he originally had really good eyesight, but after his eye got infected his eyesight just kinda went bad

his eyes expired

but seriously though (woah no way, silly little guy can be serious?), he's almost blind in the eye that got infected

doesn't wanna wear glasses bc "they'll ruin his reputation"

he's also really short compared to everyone else in the team

he's really insecure about it

can and will fight anyone who says something even remotely teases him for his height

low iron for sure (me too bud, me too)

Abbacchio just took on the role as his father and makes sure he eats all his food

"But it tastes badddd" "Eat it or I'll shove it down your throat. Also, it has good iron."

he ate it, but was very pouty about it the whole time

mista will point at things made of iron and say shit like "that's what you need" or "you should eat that to get your iron levels up"

skinny but he's really strong

my guy has a six pack but looks scrawny as hell

Mista's jealous of him lmao

"Why do YOU get a six pack?!" "because you're fat"

Mista then forced Narancia to smell his armpits (they were rank)

he does a lot of shit with Mista lmao

partners in crime

he got high with mista one time and never did it again

oddly flexible

he's probably dyslexic

the girlboss

live laugh love Trish

lesbian fr

she practices makeup on Abbacchio

another one that sees abba as a father figure

they point each other's nails and go shopping together

Mista's bff fr

they do karaoke together

yk that one tiktok sound that was that like "OH SHIT IT'S IN KOREAN" and then starts singing it perfectly anyway

that's her and Mista

Mista's the one that sings it lmao

i don't have that many headcanons for trish tbh

she likes to try out new hairstyles a lot

they're always short tho

she doesn't like growing out her hair

says it's too much of hassle

we love trish in the household

she has freckles (from doppio)

yk those weird ass dots diavolo has in his hair? she has those but they're less noticeable

talks shit about people with abbacchio

she likes ranting about stuff to giorno bc he's a good listener

big fan of scented candles

gave mista soap for his birthday

she has frequent headaches (something she got from doppio, bc i hc that he has frequent headaches)

ANYWAY THAT'S IT FOR NOW

do you wanna hear about my la squadra headcanons? Doppio and Diavolo??? PLEASE I HAVE SO MANY GOOD HEADCANONS JUST LET ME RANT-

75 notes · View notes

nohoney · 11 months

Text

♡ crumpled photographs of me ♡

notes: the first part to the teddy bear series! it stays somewhat in the canon universe of bnha, while hawks still works for the commission. i remember reading a lot of ‘secret relationship with hawks’ fics when i really started to like his character and of course want to add my own silly little contribution.

♪ Now I'm finding knives under the sheets / Crumbled photographs of me ♪

warnings: yandere hawks (more soft tho), reader is very distressed, somewhat dubcon-ish (nothing explicit) but it’s how the reader has to cope with her environment

words: 5.6k

synopsis:

All photographs of you.

Keigo sat on the couch when you walked further into the apartment, just nonchalantly taking pictures out of a photo album from your apartment and crumpling them first before throwing them aside.

“I want these to be filled with only us now, okay? I don’t like thinking that you had a life before me.”

There was a time that you were willing to pose in front of a camera and smile for a picture. You weren’t exactly always prepared for your picture to be taken but you at least knew how to angle your head in a flattering angle and give a little smile that made it seem like you were picture ready. Back then, you preferred your photos taken in private. A few photographer friends would ask to use you as a subject on occasion or on the rare moments that you decided that you needed to update your resume photo, most of your best pictures then were taken in a more controlled environment with someone to guide you.

For a while, you had a small appreciation for film cameras.

There was a nostalgia to getting the film developed and then seeing how the pictures came out with no preview aside from just trusting the lighting through the viewfinder and a little flash.

It was a silly little thing that you enjoyed with him at first, going through stacks of developed pictures and picking out the best ones and laughing at the worst ones. Even if you could never take photos out in the world like a regular couple, you still cherished being able to have this special privilege with the number two Pro Hero, whom the outside world would only know as Hawks but to you he was Keigo Takami. It felt special to be photographed by him and to be the only person in his camera roll.

You had started to feel much differently about that fact when you had decided to end the relationship.

Loving Keigo was a choice that you made, starting a relationship despite the risks that came with dating a Pro Hero was a choice that you made, and walking away from Keigo was the hardest choice you had to make when it proved too difficult to attempt to maintain a normal relationship with him. It was already hard enough with all of his duties that were expected of him on the daily and it was even more difficult trying to circumvent the commission that had trained and raised the beloved winged hero of the country. You wanted to believe that his wings would always shield you from the prying eyes of the outside world and it would block out anything that would come between you.

“We can try harder. I know this is tough on you but please, I want you by my side.” Keigo was gently pleading to you while you avoided his heartbroken gaze. “Don’t you know how crazy I’ll go without you?”

At the time, those words were just a phrase that you didn’t take very seriously.

Thirteen days after the break up, you didn’t think Keigo would be standing in front of you again but with the most eerie gaze you had never seen him sport before. He threw a folder onto the countertop of the kitchen with pictures sliding out easily. Pictures of you that he’d taken in intimate moments, pictures that you agreed to be the subject of when he had brought you to a sexed up high and thought it would just be good fun. “What are these?”

“My favorite pictures of you.”

His tone was so soft yet his gaze on you was so hard. You remember how he slowly looked over the photographs with an intensity that left you unsure what to do. Nudes and sex selfies of yourself had never made you self conscious during the relationship but you worried if this was meant to be some sort of blackmail. Keigo didn’t seem the type for revenge porn but the possibility of it still hurt you.

“You never pose for me anymore, dove. It makes me a little sad. I miss that part of our relationship.”

There was nothing playful or joyful about getting your picture taken anymore. Keigo had ruined that beyond repair. He frightened you into being scared of being photographed by him. Just because you weren’t willing to have your picture taken by him doesn’t mean that you were allowed to deny him however. The first few times you resisted, you were learning about Keigo’s true temper underneath all the easy-going breeziness that was instilled as a means of masking his true intentions.

If you had to take a few measly photos then you’d deal with it, it was just Keigo’s impeccable timing that made you reluctant to cooperate. It was often at times that you weren’t prepared mentally for the task because he insisted on candids. And when he takes a photo with you looking upset, Keigo in turn gets his feelings hurt that the pictures don’t come out like they used to. If you were going to make him happy, you had to gather the mental energy to do so.

Taking photos then and taking photos now was so different.

Thinking about this, your chest tightens and you feel an invisible pressure on you that’s weighed down on you since you were locked away in this luxury apartment.

You remember being escorted through the hallways to the front door of your prison, the men around you hired from the very people who had trained, raised, and invested in the beloved Pro Hero Hawks. It was an agreement that you had no choice but to agree to. It was of no issue to shackle down one quirkless girl to keep their invested project from going rogue.

Your job was simple enough: keep him happy.

Keep him happy and you will be cared for, none of your personal information would be ousted.

They threatened to make you a pariah with just a click of their fingers and all because Keigo didn’t know how to handle a breakup. If you had known that it was going to be the result of falling for Keigo Takami, you would have never looked his way in the first place. You wouldn’t have been lulled by his quick wit and humor, and you would have never unknowingly signed your life away to a Pro Hero that all of the country fawns over. Even though he is the other half of the relationship, the public would immediately take his side because he is someone important and you are not.

When you stepped into the luxury apartment, there were balled up pieces of trash that littered the floor. There was a crinkling that you could hear further down but you were reluctant to investigate at first. Your escorts provided no help, only having done their job and promptly shut the door to your prison. When you picked one piece up, you slowly unfurled it only to find it to be a photograph of yourself a few years ago. It was taken with a group of friends for a going away party for one of them. The next one was of you just lounging in a beach chair and then another was of you captured when you were mid-laugh.

All photographs of you.

Keigo sat on the couch when you walked further into the apartment, just nonchalantly taking pictures out of a photo album from your apartment and crumpling them first before throwing them aside.

“I want these to be filled with only us now, okay? I don’t like thinking that you had a life before me.”

You had a life before him, one that was fulfilling even if it did come with some painful parts. There were regrets and mistakes before but it was your life and you cherished it. Truly you had wanted to fit Keigo somewhere inside your life, tried to realign his piece where you thought it should fit but the two of you were from different worlds. He had an invisible hand hovering above him to tell him how to navigate his world both on the surface and underneath, and you had freedom.

You had freedom but it was dashed away the moment you decided to break things off with Keigo.

He took it away.

These words have rung throughout your mind ever since Keigo locked you into this prison. They weigh heavily on you as you stare out the floor to ceiling windows, looking out towards the other high rises and down to the concrete ground where the civilians, other heroes, and sidekicks walk with no clue that you wished you were among them. It repeats over and over as you scrub yourself underneath the shower spray and lather fancy soaps and shower oils into your skin.

Keigo had gone to his agency upset with you.

He had woken you up with the flash of his camera and it had disturbed you. All he had wanted was just a simple photo of you sleeping, that’s all. The only thing you had to do was just close your eyes and play the part but you turned away with a quiet plea to let you rest. Even with your eyes shut, you must have still looked stressed so you didn’t look the part of a peacefully sleeping girlfriend when Keigo tried to ready the camera for another photo.

The film camera was slammed down on Keigo’s side of the nightstand and he left home without another word.

When he used to take pictures of you sleeping back when you were happy, you’d rouse with a playful ‘fuck off’ but happily pose for Keigo. Now it just felt violating when he tried to recreate what you thought was innocent before. Even with all the disgust you have, it’s still expected of you to do as he wants.

Keigo still wants the relationship to continue on as if you’re not threatened by the safety commission to remain with him, to act like this is all your own will.

You managed to salvage photographs of your old life, it’s the only thing you can hold onto that reminds you that you had freedom and your own will to do things. They’re hidden in your own special place, a little area that you’re sure to never give away because Keigo would be mad that you held onto something of your life before him. Photos of you living your life before Keigo Takami ever came along.

The ruined lines of the pictures make you upset since they were so pristine before but it’s all you have.

Staring at the you in those pictures makes you jealous but then also with pity.

If only she’d known what was in her future. If only you could touch this photo and tell yourself in the past, “Do not fall for the Winged Hero Hawks.”

You can’t allow yourself to wallow though; Keigo will be home soon and you need to put him in a good mood.

So you tuck your old pictures away and go through your walk in closet. There’s a drawer of intimates that are specifically Keigo’s favorites. He appreciated all forms of lingerie on you but his favorites were sheer nighties with the matching colored thongs. So you pluck one out from a drawer and discard the silk robe to dress yourself instead. You build up the mental strength for when Keigo will come back home and you’ll need to do your part to make sure that he’s a happy man.

“Keigo! Ew, what if it comes out ugly! You have to tell me when you’re taking a picture of me!”

“Nonsense baby,” Keigo would chuckle and ready the camera again, “you always look perfect to me.”

You do miss the happy times with Keigo but you couldn’t recreate them anymore after everything that happened.

Inside the apartment you can hear Keigo having just come home so you take in a breath to steel yourself before presenting yourself to him. Taking the film camera on his side of the bed, you hold it in your hands as you walk out to greet Keigo. You try not to be scared when his eyes naturally look to you coming out from the hallway, his eyes drawing up and down before he sees the camera in your hands. “I’m home.” He announces as is the usual custom of any person returning from the outside.

“Welcome back Keigo,” you greet him and slowly pad your way over to him, “thank you for all your hard work today.”

Not that you know what his work always entails now that you know the hero commission is the one that handles many of the biggest cover ups and secrets that are supposed to serve the interest of society. The world of a hero was a much darker place than you had imagined it to be. It was more than just taking down bad guys in the streets and being a symbol of protection; there were dirty and bloody secrets kept at bay to keep the image of hero pristine.

You are one of them after all, a dirty secret to keep the number two hero happy and compliant to work under the commission.

“What’s all this?” Keigo asks with a touch of wariness but also an excitement that you’ve learned to recognize in your time together with him. He’s shrugging off his jacket after dispersing his feathers off and discarding his gloves as you approach, some of his feathers tickling your face as they float around you when you get close enough to him. “Lovebird?”

Keep your composure. Make him happy.

“I… I’m really sorry about this morning Kei. I was just in a bad mood and I took it out on you. Lemme make it up to you?” You ask in your sweetest voice. You reach one hand up to take off his glasses and headphones, setting them aside on the most nearby surface before brushing your hand through his feathery hair.

Waiting with bated breath, you wonder if he’ll be happy or if he’ll still be upset.

When he turns his face to kiss your palm, you’re relieved that it will go in a good direction.

“You really hurt my feelings this morning but I forgive you. You’re so lucky that I love you so much.” He forgives you, adoration shining in his eyes but you can see the twisted affection that’s mixed in as well. It does not sit well with you, it stirs uncomfortably in your stomach, but you can not fight him nor could you run away.

You agreed to this after all, to be his caged bird and let him believe that this life was the best for you.

Taking him by the wrist, you walk with him past the windows that overlook the city. The city that he protects, the city that you wished to be a part of again. You guide him to the bedroom where you’ve set up for what looks like a romantic date. There’s flower petals sprinkled onto the bed and candles lit, two wine glasses sit on a fancy wooden tray along with the wine bottle.

It almost looks like you’re on a honeymoon.

“Oh lovebird, all this for me? This is why you’re the sweetest.”

God, you wish you could just smash that glass over his head and run out the door. You wished there was some place you could hide and never be found. You wished that Keigo used to be his normal self before this.

You hand him his glass and clink yours against his, taking a sip to at least make you a bit more relaxed so that you could give him what he wants. “Easy baby, don’t drink too fast.” He reminds you after sipping and swirling the red in his glass. But you need to do this fast, get this over with so that you can rest as peacefully as you can.

“Sit on the bed for me, drink it slowly okay.”

Keigo sets down his glass on the wooden tray and readies the camera towards you. You had a friend that would take boudoir photo shoots, you’d attended with them before to watch them direct the model to look sultry and sensual. Thinking back on the memories, you can hear their guiding voice as you pose for the first photo.

The wine glass is emptied and your mind is fuzzy already, you’re grateful that you’re a lightweight. All you needed was just that first glass to get through the excruciating start. It makes it easier to do all this, tilting your head a certain way, posing your hand against your lips, lifting the sheer skirt of the mighty to tease with a flash of the pretty lace underneath. At one point your glass is refilled and you’re grateful that more alcohol will make it easier on your poor, stressed mind.

Photo after photo taken until Keigo is satisfied.

“Fuck baby, you turn me on so much. I’m glad we did this.”

Strangely enough, you’re turned on too but you believe that it’s the wine that makes your head swim with desire. Your drunk mind sees Keigo’s glass that he hasn’t bothered to pick back up and drink, mindlessly reaching and going for a third glass for the evening. There’s too much enthusiasm in how you attempt to polish off Keigo’s drink, a drop of the wine dripping down and then falling onto the sheer nightie. “Ah baby, slow down. You got some on you.” Keigo chastises you lightly.

Keigo takes away the glass along with the tray off the bed. Wiping at your mouth with the back of your hand, you lick off the traces of wine first before looking down and sighing down at the single drop of red wine. You lick at your thumb and see if you can rub the spot off even though you know that it needs to be treated with club soda first before giving it a wash.

“Baby, let’s get that off you alright? Can’t have you wearing this now.” Keigo’s hands are gentle as he slips the nightie off of you and a few feathers carry it to the laundry basket inside the walk-in closet. More feathers slowly separate from his wings but fall gently down on top of your body as you lie back. They tickle you and feel so soft as they land on top of your skin. With the wine in your system and your inhibitions lowered, you look exactly how he’s wanted you to when taking photos.

Soft and vulnerable, almost close to the person you used to be before you became a prisoner.

All that’s missing was the love in your eyes but he’ll settle for your stupid, drunk gaze at this moment.

“God, you drive me wild… you know that right? I thought about you all day,” Keigo mutters more to himself but you manage to catch his words, “I was so mad at first. I just want us to be happy but you’re so much more difficult these days. I do everything for you and I can’t believe how ungrateful you were!”

Your eyes watch as a feather takes position in his hand and recognize how it hardens to a sharpened edge. His feathers are soft but they can cut through stone like butter if he willed it. It’s held close to your neck and you instinctively cower from it. You’ve never seen his feathers do any harm and you wouldn’t like to know what it would feel like. “I’m sorry… I said I was sorry!” You start to sniffle, “Keigo, I’m sorry…”

His anger melts away and then suddenly he’s dropped himself on top of you with the feathers softly dropping by your head. His head nuzzles into the crook of your neck and he grips the bedsheets right by your head. This is what it’s like with Keigo now, to stand on your tiptoes around him and be ready for any mood swing he has. And he seems to only have two: either insanely lovesick or just resentfully in love with you.

You’re not comfortable with either but you know which one you would rather deal with.

When he barges into your personal space and nuzzles you with affection even when you don’t want to be touched, you’d prefer that over when he’s disappointed in you. That when he gives you the cold shoulder and he gazes at you with a lot of love and just as much disgust when you don’t act right, it’s more stressful to make up with him and make him happy with you again.

Because in the end that’s what you are there for.

It’s what the hero commission demanded of you.

Make Hawks happy and keep him happy.

So you hold Keigo close to you, your hand curling to the nape of his neck while the other rubs circles over his back. Your touch makes him melt and you hear a happy little sigh from him that it’s almost relieving to hear. When you feel his lips press to the pulse of your neck, you turn your head so that Keigo has more access to do as he pleases. The wine makes it easier for you to allow this to happen but it also makes you a bit more sensitive. He elicits sounds out of you that you aren’t sure yourself are acting from your end or genuine. Because Keigo has a talent for blurring the lines for you.

Underneath the fear you have for him, there’s still a bare string of love that hasn’t died. Love for him that he doesn’t deserve with what he’s done to you, but it remains even when you cry in your prison.

You tell yourself that relying on that last shred of affection of who Keigo used to be is what will be your survival tactic.

“Wanna kiss you, c’mon.” Keigo is capturing your lips before you have a chance to say anything. It’s not like you’d have the option to say no to him anyway. The wine in your bloodstream makes you a little lazy, just letting yourself receive his kisses rather than show equal enthusiasm. But your hands wander up his arms, touching his shoulders before sliding down to a zipper that lies at the back of his shirt.

This part is familiar to you as it is to him.

It’s an easy chore for him to move his feathers out the way when he either dresses or undresses himself. It’s what comes with having a quirk like his and it’s not something he’s had to think about at this point in his life. You pull the zipper down from the back and Keigo does the work of undressing the top half of his body, shrugging his arms out the sleeves before tossing the shirt aside. One hand presses into the space beside your head, the other hand taking yours right at his belt buckle. “Undo it for me.”

Your fingers are a little clumsy but you complete the task, pulling his belt from the loops and tossing it off the bed.

“This is yours, I’ve been waiting to give it to you.” Keigo mutters lowly as he smooths his hand over the print of where his cock lies. “Do you deserve it though? After making me mad this morning?”

You don’t want to be reminded of how upset he was nor do you want him to bring it up. You’re doing what you’re supposed to; being soft and compliant, wearing the clothes he wants, and just trying to avoid making him angry. The wine, the camera, and lingerie are all for his pleasure and none of yours.

“Is this… not enough?” you ask, your mind struggling to find the words at first, “You’re not happy that I did this?”

You’re given a gentle smile and he chuckles, like he thinks you’re being silly. His hand cups at your breast, the pad his thumb ghosting over your nipple and awes how it hardens under his touch. He says nothing to your question, he’s allowed to not answer your questions but you have to answer every one of his.

So when he asks, “You want me happy, right?”

You reply, “Yes, I want you to be happy.”

Keigo tells you, “Say you’re mine and that you love me.”

You have to repeat, “I’m yours and I love you.”

Keigo melts over your words and for now, it smothers the scary glint in his eyes that you’re too wary of. He’s sick on whatever his version of love is for you and you need to make him happy. The tip of your finger draws along the lace of the panties you still wear, catching his attention and a lustful groan breaches his lips. “‘M horny Kei… want you.” you mutter.

“Yeah? Can you show me? Go back to the pillows and show me, okay?”

You crawl towards the headboard where all the soft pillows lay. He doesn’t see how you’re blinking to get your bearings in order, flopping against the pillows and opening your legs for him. Pulling the panty to the side with one hand, you shudder as you drag a finger against your pussy and keep your eyes lowered rather than on him.

One finger teases into you as you hear Keigo unzip his pants, deciding to discard the rest of his clothes and he wraps his hand around his cock. He slowly strokes himself while his eyes are trained in between your legs.

Keigo watches as you finger yourself for him, drinking in all the whines that you yourself are unsure are for his entertainment or if you actually are enjoying yourself. Because it does feel good to finger yourself but it’s only being done since you had to make it up to him. There is no such thing anymore as Keigo apologizing to you for when you’re upset.

“Baby, you are such a pretty thing.” He mutters more to himself than to you. A feather floats into his hand and he crawls towards you. Just like before, the feather suddenly sharpens and you become scared. Your body seizes and you’re about to beg Keigo to not hurt you but he shushes you before anything is said.

He slices off the panty you were wearing, careful not to knick you and pulls the flimsy little thing off you easily.

You’re relieved when the feather softens and it drops gently to the top of the bed.

“Why were you scared?” Keigo asks, his tone of voice hard and his eyes narrowing at you.

Oh god, maybe you shouldn’t have drunk all that whine to relax you. You stutter over your words, speaking before your mind can actually produce a thought. “I thought you were gonna punish me…”

“Punish you?”

You nod your head dumbly, “‘Cause I made you mad today. You were right to be mad. I made you mad.”

A few tense seconds pass.

His hands are gentle as he rests them on your thighs, his touch reassuring and he coos over you. “You are such a good little bird. What did I do to deserve you?” He asks, pulling your hand towards his lips so he can suck the slick off your fingers.

You don’t deserve me. You took me away from my life.

“I um… don’t know. I’m just me.”

“And that’s all you have to be. You don’t have to think or do anything for yourself anymore. Just be you.” Keigo states for you. He moves to lie on his stomach, making himself comfortable as he starts to lick at your pussy with his hands resting on your lower belly. He does it gently, he’s always done it gently first before he gets more enthusiastic, working you up until you end up a whiny mess.

The sounds you make as he eats you out are real. They’re not made from an intention to lull him to a sense of calm; they are actually real. Keigo has always been genuine in wanting you to feel good, it’s where he puts most of his heart into. Everything else has changed but him wanting you to still enjoy sex has remained the same. He’s a giver in this sense but you can’t forget how much he’s taken from you.

“Oh god… oh fuck…” you whisper, one of your hands tangling in his hair and the other grasping his hand. Your hips shift in want, writhing and grinding onto him as you get closer and closer to that peak.

If only this were like before everything had changed. Before he locked you away with all your rights taken away. As giving as he was, even if you hadn’t planned to break up with him, would he have taken away your life eventually? Done it little by little until it was too late to notice?

If you could fight him, you would.

“Oh fuck, I need you right now. So badly, you want me too right?”

But you let him take from you in order to live another day. To keep your sanity in check, you pretend when he kisses you that it’s the old Keigo that used to make you feel safe. He brings you to that high even though your mind is swimming. Your head is in a daze and you’re drunk and dying for him to let you reach that peak of heaven.

He drags you by your hips to pull you closer to him. Keigo wants to be in missionary and your brain rattles a little inside your skull. You’re drunk, whining as you attempt to focus your gaze, feeling feathers on the bed and just wanting to rest now at this point. You haven’t done much but you never have much energy these days when your mind is so stressed out. “Keigo. Kei, ‘m dizzy…”

“It’s okay, I won’t be too rough then.”

He leans down to give you a little peck before readying himself before you. The tip pushes in and you groan, feeling how he shallowly thrusts into you, like he’s teasing and making you want it. You’re not sure if you do but you have to act like it for him. So you beg him in the way that he likes, your voice a little pitched and breathless, telling him that you’re aching to be full of him. Missed you, I missed you, I miss you.

“Okay dove, okay. I’m here, see? Feel me here?” Keigo punctates the last word, sharply pushing himself into you with a grunt. He’s sheathed fully inside and he’s absolutely lovesick all over again as he looks down at you. “You miss me?”

I miss the old you.

“Mm-hmm… don’t leave me. Stay here.” you beg of him.

Words you used to say to him before everything changed. When you and him would make love before and you knew that he had to go back to the outside, you’d beg him so much to stay another day with you. To leave all the work to his sidekicks and make another sex video or take nude photos to put away in a secret box. Your head replays old memories of before as Keigo fucks you slowly, the sensual way in how he moves his hips into you making your eyes roll to the back of your head and you realize that you’re not acting anymore in the moment. “I’m about to cum, I’m gonna cum!”

He’s brought you to heaven in this hell.

Keigo tells you to keep cumming for him, rocking harder into you, cursing how good you feel around him and praising you for being such a wonderful little thing for him.

Your mind goes blank, voice catching in your throat, and your toes curl.

And then he’s rough, fucking hard into your cunt to meet you where you’re at.

Even after everything, Keigo still is beautiful to you as he cums. His eyes get lidded, the sounds he makes have the butterflies fluttering in you, and you can pretend for just a few seconds that it used to be like before. He used to drop down next to you, breathless but happy, and you’d revel in the short time you had together with him before you had to return to the daily routine of maintaining the life you built.

But now all you have is time to do nothing and all you are is just a bird in a cage.

“I just want a comfortable life for you. I love you, you don’t have to do anything.”

He claims to love you.

That’s why he didn’t like it when you broke up with him, because he says he loves you. That’s why he had to get the commission involved, because he was too heartbroken to continue his hero duties and obsessed even harder over you. That’s why he wants to erase any life you had before him and just fill it with him only in the same way only you consume his thoughts.

Just Keigo.

The high of an intense orgasm has you gasping for breath, almost emotional as you hiccup and tears come to your eyes, and you don’t know where all these emotions are coming from. You try to stop crying because you’re scared Keigo will take it the wrong way. He needs to be happy, it’s why you put yourself through all that.

“Shh baby, it’s okay. You were so good.” Keigo hushes to you without coupling with his usual tender touches. You wipe at your tears, looking up at him just in time to see the camera poised in his hand.

Flash!

A few days later, you look at the photos that were taken of you from that night. Your stomach burns uncomfortably as you look at the pictures, unable to recognize the girl in them knowing fully well that it was you photographed. The very last was Keigo’s favorite, the one of you with tears on your face and looking… beautiful actually.

You look at the photo, admiring it briefly before you turn it over.

For a while the camera goes missing. Keigo finds it later hidden inside your drawer of underwear, but he decides to let it go. All the pictures he took were accounted for, which was what mattered more to him.

#hawks x reader #takami keigo x reader #yandere hawks #hawks smut

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