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ilygetou · 7 months

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MET HER 0N THE iNTERNET | EREN JAGER.

PAIRING: EREN JAEGER X FEM! READER.

SYNOPSIS: Eren Jaeger met you on the internet & immediately fell in love with your looks, personality and body. He knew his crush on you was dumb and will not last long because come on — online relationships? Those don’t last that long. Until eren found a way to not make it online anymore!

C/W: losing the pwp war, noncon –> dubcon, online stalking, solo m! masturbation, lovesick! eren, possessive! eren, cheating, vaginal fingering, face/throat fucking, facial, brief after-care at the end.

WORD COUNT: 5.9K

NOTE: repost. i know y’all are so sick n’ tired of me but this is going to be the last time i promise 😓😓🤞

Eren was laying down on his bed, the moonlight illuminating and reflecting on his phone screen as he scrolled through people’s accounts/profiles on instagram. None who’ve piqued his interest, scrolling and scrolling until he came across your profile.

Clicking on your username, he was met with the highlights you have saved on your profile and the three posts you have posted. Eren clicked on the first post–it was a picture of you laying down on your bed, ass slightly up while you had your tongue in-between your teeths with a small smile.

Eren slightly gulped and continued going through your posts, his breath slightly hitching once he came across a picture of you with your thong peeking out from the low rise jeans you were wearing, shirt too tight your cleavage was all out.

Eren quickly zoomed out and went to check your highlights, clicking on the first one which was titled with “<3”, knowing exactly what it meant as soon as he saw a picture of you and another man holding hands. The next story being another picture of you and that man nose touching. As eren continued going through the highlights, the more furious he got even though he doesn’t even know you.

Eren clicked his tongue in annoyance before hitting the ‘follow’ button, maybe, fate might be on his side for once and you’d break up with your boyfriend soon.

The next day came rather quickly and throughout his whole day–eren was thinking about you. He was thinking about how gorgeous you looked, your smile so sweet, your hair styled in a unique way, everything about you was perfect. He couldn’t help but keep thinking about you, despite not knowing who you are.

12:40am.

Eren threw himself on the bed, letting out a sigh before unlocking his phone–clicking on the instagram app and checking his notifications, to find that you’ve followed him back. Eren smiled. Viewing your story to find that you’ve posted a new picture of yourself, it was a full body mirror picture. Your body slightly tilted to the side showing off your ass, you held up a peace sign over your face–you were wearing nike pro shorts with a plain white t-shirt.

Eren quickly liked your story, swiping up to reply–“lookin real’ good” and not even a minute has passed, he has already received a reply from you. “Thank youuu,” eren scoffed at the lack of energy and effort in your reply but then again, he gets it, you have a boyfriend. You shouldn’t be giving into other men’s compliments.

Eren decided to check your following, maybe even try and find your boyfriend’s username since you didn’t tag him in any of your posts.

You were following a couple of hashtags, some celebrities and then the rest were mostly your friends, family and classmates. Eren scrolled and scrolled until he came across a guys’ profile, he had your initial in his bio and a “i ❤️ my gf” pfp. His account was private and you were one of the few people following him. Eren decided that this was your boyfriend and to confirm his suspicions about it he went through your posts and checked the comment section.

A total of almost 200 comments were under each one of your posts and finally, after a few seconds of scrolling he found the same guy bombarding your comment section; “wife” “😍😍” “mine <3” eren rolled his eyes, slightly clenching his fists in annoyance.

He turned off his phone and placed it anywhere besides him. Eren was laying down on his bed, his hand resting on his forehead as he went deep into thought. Thinking of ways to get to know you better and maybe even make you fall in love with him just like how he fell in love with you at first sight.

Then an idea suddenly popped up. Eren quickly turned on his phone and texted one of his closest friends.

Eren’s fingers dragged towards the “ + to your story” button, scrolling through his camera roll and clicking on a picture of himself after the gym–shirtless and all sweaty from working out. He added any song that seemed to fit and posted the picture on his story. In a matter of a few seconds, eren got a bunch of notifications– “armin_arlert liked your story” “conniethegoat liked your story” “mikasa_ackerman liked your story” scrolling past the notifications and pausing once he got to a certain notification.

It was a notification from you, your username displayed on his screen with a ‘liked your story’ beside it. Eren felt his heart flutter, it was just a small little interaction from you but it still left eren flustered. He did find it a bit odd though, you had a boyfriend and no guy would like it if his girlfriend was liking other men’s stories. Especially not pictures of other men shirtless.

He didn’t give a fuck though. That just means he was one step closer to having you.

Eren took a screenshot of your notification, to stare at it every time he’s feeling a bit down–to remind himself that the girl he’s currently chasing noticed him and knows he exists.

Eren was already working on getting rid of your boyfriend. So he could finally get the chance to slide into your dms again but he needs to have your boyfriend out of the picture; It was simple really, all he had to do was contact one of his closest female friends to get the job done.

And who would he speak to other than mikasa. One of the prettiest girls he knows, his childhood best friend. Texting her & telling her to do him a small little favor; to text your boyfriend and “befriend” him. She obviously refused the request, why would she break up a perfectly healthy couple? And to have you, an innocent sweet girl, fall for eren’s schemes. But after eren’s constant nagging and him threatening her to drop her and waste years of a long healthy friendship made her agree.

“mikasa_ackerman requested to follow you.”

Your boyfriend didn’t accept mikasa’s request until she suddenly messaged him;

“You’re cute. Think you can settle for two?” your boyfriend was confused, how does this stranger know what he looks like when his account is private. He didn’t question it any further though–not when he went through mikasa’s profile. Pale-skinned girl with gray eyes, shaggy black hair that reached her chin and bangs that added more to her looks, her well-toned body that made her more attractive than she already was.

Immediately accepting the request and following her back.

“Thank you, not sure about the ‘settling for two’ thing though.”

Sure, your boyfriend might’ve done the wrong thing by messaging her back instead of just ignoring her dm but come on, men will be men and having a cute girl in his requests–patiently waiting for him to text back, did not make him greater than any man.

They texted for a while, mikasa occasionally sending pictures of herself wearing a sports bra while at the gym or sending full body pictures to your boyfriend to make him fold. All to which were eren’s requests and of course against mikasa’s will. Feeling an aching feeling in her gut every time she had to text another girl’s man made her feel horrible about herself. She was no better than a homewrecker.

Your boyfriend didn’t cross the line while talking to mikasa, yeah sure he was hiding it from you but he wasn’t flirting back. Sometimes, occasionally, on rare events, he’d compliment her. Saying she has a well-built body or sometimes saying she’s “kinda” good looking. But that was all before he found out she lived in the same city as him.

As soon as he found out, the way he was treating mikasa all changed. Becoming flirty with her, washing her with compliments. Doing all that behind the “i heart my gf” profile picture and behind your back as well.

And it wasn’t long before you found out. Eren texted you from an anonymous account, making mikasa send him screenshots and even screen recordings of her and your boyfriend’s chat for more solid proof. You didn’t believe it at first, denying the proof presented to you.

Until you found yourself at your boyfriend’s apartment, tears stinging your eyes as you held up your phone to show him the screenshots displayed on the screen. Crying while asking him if they’re real and begging him to tell you they’re fake, that it’s just someone wanting to play with your feelings. But when you saw the look in his eyes, shame and regret. You broke down crying, asking him why’d he decide to ruin a perfectly healthy relationship over some girl he met online? Were you not pretty enough for him? Did she love him better than you did? Deciding to just leave and not hurt yourself any longer by staying here as your ex-boyfriend chases after you. Calling you and yelling for you to wait.

As soon as you got back home, you didn’t even bother changing clothes–laying down on your bed with your phone in your hands, watching as it buzzed from the calls your ex was spamming you with, along with his desperate text messages. You dragged your finger across the block button, not thinking twice as you pressed on it. Switching apps to block him everywhere. You even deleted the story highlight, removing him from your bio and deleting posts that he appeared in. When you were finally done, your eyes were red and puffy, swollen from crying too much.

It’s been two days since the breakup and two days since you last posted on instagram. Eren knew that his vicious plan worked, having you dump your boyfriend and getting extra information about you; for example, where you’re settled at.

And what a lovely coincidence, you both live in the exact same city.

eren 🦇

Hey, everything alright? You haven’t been active lately.

Your phone lit up with a notification from; “ern_yger.” You stared at the notification for a while, debating whether or not you should respond to this random stranger who noticed your absence when even your own friends didn’t.

Unlocking your phone and tapping on his notification, dragging your fingers across the keyboard–thinking of a simple, fitting response.

Yeah I’m alright, I’ve just been busy with college.

You clicked send, not thinking twice about your response. Your message has already been seen by eren, you were left on read for two minutes before you saw him typing and while he took his time thinking of a response back you clicked on his profile. You were met with two highlights and zero posts, you clicked on his “me” highlight, feeling your mouth run dry once you were met with a picture of eren shirtless with only a pair of sweatpants and Calvin Klein boxers that peeked out. He was laying down on his side, the room was slightly dim but you were still able to makeout his face. The next one was a picture of his side profile, his hair was put up in a messy bun–his hair also looked soft and messy.

The other picture was taken from a slightly high angle, he was wearing white beaters with gray sweatpants. Once you were about to view the next story, you suddenly got a notification from eren which you accidentally clicked on.

“You sure? I noticed the missing highlights and change of bio.”

If you weren’t in the midst of trying to cope and move on from your past relationship, you would’ve noticed the fake acting concerned tactic men use to get any women they want and in this case, you were in the start of it. And deciding to fuck it and just pour your heart out to this random stranger because you really need it. Need someone to talk to right now and since none of your friends got time for you, you really appreciate eren reaching out to ask about your whereabouts.

You didn’t hold back, venting out your emotions and feelings about your situation. You didn’t leave out a single detail and made sure eren knew exactly how you’re feeling.

Eren was slightly taken aback by your reaction and willingness to share your private life with him. He even felt bad for you, you seemed genuinely upset and hurt but that still wouldn’t make him give up on chasing you. He comforted you for a bit, sending you long reassuring paragraphs. And eren slightly cringed at himself, he has never done this type of thing before—never in his life has he ever had a girl vent out her feelings to him and have him comfort her.

At the end you thanked him a lot for listening to you and apologizing for "being a bother" which eren responded with: “Not at all, I was the one who reached out first, don’t apologize.” You liked the message and thanked him once again before going on with your night.

It’s been three months since your breakup. And three months after you started talking to eren, he helped distract you from thinking about your past partner. He was funny, kind and understanding, everything you looked for in a man. You both even shared the same clothing style, music style and humor.

You didn’t have any bad intentions while talking to eren–you weren’t trying to use him to help you forget about your ex boyfriend. He was the one always texting first, asking you how you are, cracking jokes, sending you songs that he thinks you might like (you always end up loving them), sends you both movies & tv shows suggestions–he says they’ll help with distracting you and keeping your mind occupied from thinking about anything related to your past love.

While eren was the one filled with bad intentions and thoughts. First thing he did in the morning was check his phone for any notifications from you and if he got one, a wide smile would form on the corner of his lips–immediately unlocking his phone to respond back. And if he doesn’t receive a message from you, he’d unlock his phone only to be met with “sent 9 hours ago”, he’d aggressively throw his phone back to his bed. Sometimes gritting his teeth in anger and frustration, stressing over you not texting back.

But as soon as he does get a response back, he’d immediately forget all his anger and frustration from earlier. Telling you that it’s alright and to not apologize once you tell him how you fell asleep because you were too tired and ended up oversleeping which were followed by a bunch of apologies from you. And eren dismissed them, reassuring you by saying it’s okay and he really doesn’t mind—acting like he wasn’t absolutely losing his shit over you moments ago.

Second thing he does is go through your highlights. He has seen the pictures in the highlight multiple times but he still always ends up getting mesmerized by your beauty, way too much that he’d accidentally get turned on. An erection forming just by simply staring way too hard on your photos and eren couldn’t contain himself—pulling out his laptop and logging into his instagram and pulling out your highlight.

He’d zoom in on one specific picture, It was you laying down on bed while holding your camera high in the air–You were wearing a spaghetti straps pink tank top with baggy pajama pants. Your cleavage was all out and was very visible due to the high angle. Your face was mostly the main focus as you flashed the camera a small, warm smile.

Eren cupped his bulge, his breathing shifting from steady to unsteady, letting out shaky heavy pants as he lowered his slacks to where they stopped right beneath his knees. Eren’s eyes were heavy, his eyelids threatening to shut close as he started caressing the tip of his dick, kneading the tip roughly with his thumbs. Spreading his pre-cum all over the tip and slowly coming down to his shaft, massaging his hands up and down his length as his eyes were glued to the picture of you plastered on the screen in front of him.

A moan of your name slipped past his lips, his head slightly thrown back, his eyes were squinted–his hands wrapped around his cock as he messily jerked himself off. Curses and moans kept leaving eren the more he stared at your photo and the more his fantasies about you grew wild. Thinking about splitting you open with his cock while you whine and babble about how big he was, having you gush and cream all over his cock multiple times until you pass out from overstimulation.

Eren fastened his movements, squeezing the head of his cock as you kept flooding his mind and not even 5 minutes had passed and eren was already cumming all over his laptop screen. Staring at the bright screen with half-lidded eyes, his cum staining your picture that was displayed on the screen–he was letting out loud heavy pants, thinking up a way to make you his quickly and fast because eren can’t keep going on like this and it pains him knowing that he lives in the same city as you but still feels as if he was too far away from reaching you.

Eren’s phone lit up with a notification from you, a small smile spread across his lips as he stared back into his laptop screen before grabbing his phone and clicking on your notification. You sent him a couple pictures of yourself, asking him which one to post. Eren felt his heart flutter, staring at your photos in absolute awe. He clicked on each one of your pictures and saved them to his device.

He wanted to tell you to post all of them and that you look beautiful in each one of them but the idea of other men seeing your pictures ticked eren off, he didn’t want other men to see you, just the thought of it had eren boiling up with anger—with furrowed eyebrows, eren aggressively typed you a response back, a not very nice one.

“None. They’re not post worthy and the camera quality makes you look off,” which wasn’t true at all. Eren was sure that even with a poor camera quality you’d still manage to look good.

You stared at eren’s response for a while and then went and looked back at the pictures and the more you kept thinking about his reply the more his words started to seem true, maybe you do actually look kinda bad in these pictures…even though you finally got ready for the first time after the breakup. You did your hair, makeup and carefully selected an outfit for these pictures. You decided to just brush it off, you could take better ones next time.

“Oh okay! I won’t post them then.”

It has now been six months. You and eren started talking more frequently and even started going on both regular and face-time calls. And eren couldn’t be happier, your voice was soft and soothing, every time you sent him voice messages of you ranting about your day to him, he’d melt from the sound of your voice, he’d replay the voice message multiple times throughout the day. Your voice brings him both comfort and easeniss.

But then again, eren was sick in the head. He was the definition of the word ‘deranged’ but you still didn’t know that yet.

The way he’d wrap his hands around his cock while you two were on a call together, he would be on mute as you talked to him about random things–thinking that eren was listening to you but he was more focused on rubbing his aching, hard cock to the sound of your voice.

Every time you notice the silence you’d ask him if he’s alright, concern visible in your tone. Eren would reply with a shaky, low; “y-yeah” accidentally stuttering which he cursed himself for it in his head. Fisting his cock rapidly as you went back to talking. Eren loves it when you have a bad day, he’d get the chance to hear you whine and complain, sometimes on the verge of tears as you rant to him about your bad day, it makes his cock hard against his pants.

11:10PM.

You posted a picture of you in your story but you weren’t alone in the picture, a young man who looked eren’s age with short, light ash-brown hair with the sides and back trimmed shorter; making them a darker hue. He had small, intense light-brown eyes. His hands were wrapped around your waist making both of your shoulders touch.

Eren’s eyes twitched in anger, his brows knitted together as he swiped up and replied; “Who’s this?” you immediately replied with “A friend of mine! :)” eren left you on delivered, his jealousy over-taking him as he kept looking back at the picture, the way you happily smiled at the camera and the way you willingly allowed that guy to touch you like that pissed him off. A lot of thoughts ran through his head, one of them was marking you and making you his already.

An idea popped up in eren’s head. Quickly grabbing his phone and opening up the chat between you two, completely ignoring what you said earlier and typing out; “You free this friday?”

You opened the text and looked at it in utter confusion.

y/n 🐐

what do you mean?

eren 🦇

I’m asking if you’re free this friday? You know, maybe come over to my place.

y/n 🐐

Come over? To your place? I’m sorry but i can’t.

eren 🦇

Why not? It’s finally time we meet up, don’tya think?

y/n 🐐

We could meet up anywhere else, it shouldn’t be your place.

eren 🦇

What? don’t trust me?

y/n 🐐

it’s not that, it’s just that i’ve never met you before.

eren 🦇

Well obviously you didn’t? but we went on facetime calls and we’ve been close friends for months now. I even helped you get over your ex-boyfriend and you still don’t trust me yet?

Eren stared at his screen for a while, hoping that his guilt tripping tactic works. And to his surprise, it did;

y/n 🐐

You’re right, i’m sorry. What time?

Eren lets out a long sigh that he didn’t know he was holding.

“7pm is good.”

Friday, 7:30PM.

You wore a simple pink dress that reached above your knees with black thigh highs and throwed in a plain black jacket to cover up a bit. You were outside of eren’s residence, your breathing thickened before you reached out to grab your phone to tell eren you’re here.

y/n 🐐

i’m here.

sent 7:35PM.

eren 🦇

doors’ unlocked

seen at 7:35PM.

Your brows furrowed together before you turned off your phone and walked towards eren’s doorstep, hesitantly–you slowly unlocked the door of his house. And once the door was wide open, you were met with an empty hallway, a fish tank that was filled with various colorful fishes that decorated said hallway. “Eren?” you whispered his name as you walked in and closed the door behind you, slowly proceeding further into his place.

You were inspecting the furniture, everything looked so luxurious–that you were afraid to touch anything. You heard chirping noises and decided to follow the sound, a mottled grey colored, medium-sized parrot with a vent and a tail. It had a large black bill and a white mask enclosing a yellow eye, as well as a striking red vent and a tail. An african gray parrot was just sitting there in a silver cage, with his food and water in front of it.

You were admiring the parrot before feeling a large figure pressing his back against yours– “his name is hook,” his voice was deep, it came out as a low murmur, you slightly flinched and turned to face him. “E-Eren?” the teal-eyed man looked straight into you, a warm smile making its way to his face, “mhm?” he went and stood beside you and you slightly moved away to make some space between the two of you.

“Hooks’ a nice name, ‘t fits him,” you turned your back towards eren and went back to admiring the parrot. “You think?” eren tried keeping his eyes at his pet parrot as well but the way the girl of his dream was standing right beside him, in his house, right at this moment–makes him unable to focus on anything that wasn’t you. He side-eyed you to take a quick glance at you, he noticed the height difference between you two, he loved it, it was cute. It turned him on.

Eren cleared his throat which made you turn towards him, “so, wanna come up to my room?” you paused for a moment to think about it before nodding your head. Eren led the way to his room as you walked behind him, giving you an opportunity to look around his place even more. And once you made it to his room, you were shocked by the amount of space and furniture it had. His room was big which made you wonder, why would he need all that space if he lives alone?

His bed was king-sized, it could possibly fit three-four people. He had some posters of his favorite bands, artists and games plastered on his walls, a desk that had his laptop placed on top as well as other random stuff, including studying stationery. His room was well organized and filled with lots of unnecessary stuff as well as another fish tank.

You kept looking around until you spotted a wooden door, thinking of what could be behind that door until it clicked to you–probably a bathroom. He probably doesn’t like going out of his room that much so he designed a bathroom that connected to his room.

“What’dya’ think?” Eren asked before plopping down on the black cushion that was placed beside his bed– “‘ts too big'’ you answered before seating yourself beside eren, he moved closer to you, looking down at your dress, his eyes darting from your top to your thighs, that were half-covered by those thigh-high socks you wore. “I guess but it’s not that bad, is it?” you nodded your head, trying to look at anything that wasn’t eren’s face since he was too close. Way too close that you could probably count his eyelashes from how close he was.

Eren backed up a bit, noticing how uncomfortable you were. Eren grabbed a can of beer from the wooden table and opened it, taking a huge chug out of the can. “Want some?” you gave eren a confused look mixed with a disgusted look, “i prefer water” he playfully rolled his eyes before getting up and placing the beer can on the table. “I’ll go get you some then,” you watched as eren went out of the room–his footsteps fading away.

You sat there patiently before your curiosity grew, wanting to go confirm your suspicions on what’s behind the huge wooden door. You got up, unconsciously walking towards it–you grabbed the handle and pushed it down slowly, making sure to not make any noise. Once you unlocked the door, you were met with a dim room–the only sort of light coming from the three monitors placed on another desk in the room. Three huge monitors that all opened to different tabs.

Deciding to just fuck it and proceed even further–accidentally stepping on something that made a slight crunch noise, looking down and picking it up only to be met with a pornographic comic that had dried up cum splattered all over it. You let go of it quickly, your face scrunching up in disgust as you walked towards the three huge monitors.

You bent down a little to be met with a picture of you which you have posted a while ago displayed on the screen, your throat ran dry once you noticed the gooey white stains on the screen–you looked to the right monitor, an instagram profile opened on it which was one of your years old instagram accounts that you used to own during your teenage years. And the left monitor had the guy you recently posted a picture with instagram account.

You let out a shaky sigh, the guy who you thought was naturally sweet, understanding & charming was the complete opposite. A complete creep, a weird perverted man.

“You caught me,” a mans’ voice came from behind you, making your heart stop for a second–you turned around to face him, eren had a wide smirk curved on the corners of his lips as he leaned against the doorframe, you weren’t sure for how long he has been there watching you but probably long enough to catch your full live reaction.

“What is the meaning of this?” your voice came out low as if you were completely terrified of speaking up; “I don’t know, you tell me” eren walked towards you, shutting the door behind him–you took a step back, your back hitting the wall, eren had completely cornered you giving you no way out. Eren took hold of your chin, forcing you to look back at him–he aggressively moved your chin to the side, allowing himself to give you a small kiss on the neck.

You fluttered your eyes shut, you didn’t try pushing him off as he started nibbling on your neck; covering it with hot, messy kisses. “I’ve been wanting to taste you for so long, been wanting to do this for so long,” eren confessed, making a pit of disgust form in your stomach. Eren slipped a hand under your shirt, squeezing your right breast from above your bra. “Eren please…stop,” you finally managed to say which eren turned a blind eye on, ignoring your pleas for him to stop.

“Come on baby, you’ve made me suffer long enough, don’t ya’ think? Always had to beat my dick to pictures of you but now I finally have you within my grasp, don’t you think I deserve a reward for my patience? Hm?” Eren got on his knees and spread your legs apart, he placed his middle finger on your clit through your panties and started cautiously moving his finger.

You looked down on him with half-lidded eyes, tears pricking the corner of your eyes as you bit your lips to surpass any sounds from slipping. He moved your panties to the side and brushed his digits past your glistening folds before slowly pushing in two fingers into your tight hole, he teasingly started thrusting his fingers sometimes stopping mid-way but the way your slippery walls clamped down on his thick digits encouraged him to continue.

You were out of breath, wanting this to end quickly but the praises eren was muttering made it a tad bit better; “Ah, so good angel, gonna have you cummin’ all over my fingers soon, okay?” “fuck you’re so pretty, ‘ts makin’ my dick hard” he was plunging his fingers deeper into your messy cunt, your silk gushing and dripping all over his fingers. The squelching noises made eren’s cock slightly twitch in his pants as he imagined what kind of things he’ll be able to do to you from now on.

You couldn’t hold in your moans any longer–letting out your moans & whimpers freely as he kept thrusting his finger in n’ out of your pussy, “think..’m close!” you slightly arched your back and squirmed in your place, you placed your hands on your mouth to silent any moans from coming out as you gushed all over eren’s fingers. You were letting out heavy pants, you plopped down on the floor, your eyes glued together not daring to even try taking a quick glance at the mess you’ve made.

Eren lowered his sweatpants–enough for his cock to spring out and slap his abdomen, he moved his hips closer to your face and started rubbing his dick on the side of your cheeks which made you let out a whimper at the sudden warm feeling. “Open up, princess, ‘t hurts, y’know?” he pushed his cock against your lips, smearing his pre-cum all over your plump, glossy lips.

You swallowed your saliva before obeying and opening your mouth, your vision hazy which didn’t give you the chance to make-out eren’s girth. He shoved his cock into your mouth causing you to slightly gag, “s-so good, fuck,” you sloppily started sucking the tip, hollowing your cheeks and bobbing your head up and down his length. Swirling your tongue around his tip while drool dripped down your chin and coating his balls, you moan around his cock while eren lets out soft groans; “so cockhungry, huh?” he snickered–throwing his head back while he was still firmly gripping your hair.

He pushed his cock deeper into your throat causing you to choke a bit, tears rolling down your cheeks uncontrollably, eren started thrusting his hips against your mouth, his dick stretching your throat with every jolt of his hips. “S-Shit,” he sharply inhales, letting go of your hair and cupping both of your cheeks instead. You could feel his cock slightly poking at the side of your throat, a clear bulge.

Moving his hips in a slow, gentle manner–scared to hurt you but the way the head of his cock kept hitting your uvula which caused you to gag around his dick and ruin his steady pace, making his hips stutter and cock slightly pulsate as his shaft land flat on your tongue, “f-fuck, keep this up and i’m gnna’ be cumming all over your face” eren groaned, caressing your face while also letting out shaky moans.

His cock shuddered, twitching inside the warmth of your mouth, “Holy shit…” he mouthened before pulling out his dick with a ‘plop’ sound, your drool was connecting to his tip–your mouth hung open, your tongue stuck out, you were letting out heavy pants as you tried gasping for air. Without any warning, a sudden splash of warm, thick liquid covered your face. Managing to get on your tongue as well, the bitter taste made you flutter your eyes shut in disgust.

His sperm was burning your face, wanting to get it off of you fast and quick while eren was admiring your cum covered face. It stained your cheeks and dripped off your chin, your mascara melted and your lip-gloss got smeared all over your face. He was panting heavily but his gaze still focused on you, half-lidded eyes pierced through you.

“Did so good f’me,” he exclaimed, bending down and gripping your chin before pulling you into another messy kiss. Pulling out with a smug look, you looked back at him with a foggy vision–a small smile made its way to your face and eren heart stopped for a moment, the way you looked at him with droopy eyes, messy face and a smile on your face will forever be engraved deep into his mind.

“Stay here, ‘M gonna make some warm tea for your throat, alright? Clean yourself up, m’kay?” he kissed your forehead before going out and leaving the room, once again. You turned your head towards the monitor, your vision landing on the picture of you, the cum stains making you fill up with shame & guilt even though it’s not you who’s supposed to be feeling like this.

The sound of a notification coming from your phone pulled you out of your thoughts.

eren 🦇

*one image attachment*

Us after i destroy your uterus <3

#eren jaeger x reader #eren smut #eren x reader #aot x reader #aot smut #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan smut #aot eren #ilygetou’s kinktober ⌕

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donotpush · 3 months

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Daily vlog

CW: mpreg, sort of magic pregnancy, birth denial, car birth

"So..." Adam smiled, holding the camera over his head, to get his best angle. "Are we filming Baby #3 birth?"

Adam asked, turning to look at his wife, and at the camera again with another smile without waiting for Alissa’s reply.

His hand traveled to spank Alisa's tight, bare belly, leaving the mark of his palm over the sensitive skin and making her groan slightly. Adam nodded enthusiastically before talking to the camera again. "Of course we are! What do you think, huh? It's a tradition at this point, right, honey?"

Alisa took a deep breath, putting herself together before looking at the camera and giving her best smile. She had been up since 5 am this morning, with a crying baby hanging from her hip and a sick toddler throwing up all day long, and honestly, the last thing she wanted to do right now was to expose herself to the camera.

But Adam insisted. How could they let their followers down without a daily vlog today?

He couldn't, and he was gonna post that vlog. Of course, who wouldn't have the energy to produce, film, edit, and post a vlog when you wake up at 10 am and do exclusively nothing all day?

Alisa knew that it was their job, that the moment they signed up for the influencer life, their whole purpose (and not like she was complaining, there were moms out there that had real jobs and still had to deal with way worse than her) but she did expect some empathy from her husband.

She was about to pop, literally, this baby out. Everything was crazy, from her hormones to the altered routine in the house, but as always, Adam was blissfully unaware of the chaos that surrounded their lives right now.

“So, there you go” Adam winked at the camera, “Actually, our next blog will probably be Baby’s #3 birth, right honey?”

Yes, it was gonna be another birth vlog. This morning when she looked at herself in the mirror, Alissa realized that her stomach had dropped, tight and bloated past her hips, the taut skin stretching to its limits today seemed like it was about to burst.

So, yes, the next video on their channel Alissa was almost 100% sure it was gonna be a birth vlog.

“...maybe.”

She really wished that this time they could’ve done something a bit more… conventional. Private, away from all the cameras and views. With their last baby, Adam had the fucking camera in her face the whole process. From the moment she woke up to contractions to the moment she popped out the kid in the birthing tub. This time, she wasn’t in the mood for all that, no matter how many views it would give them.

Adam went on, ranting about something and talking about their sponsor they got earlier in the month, a really bad marketing job for a really bad product, but Alisa didn’t hear him because Ryatt was getting something she shouldn’t have inside her mouth. The blonde groaned as she clumsily tried to kneel down, reaching over her huge stomach to take the toy out of the baby’s sticky hand.

“Adam, help me here” she breathed, pointing to the baby with her hand.

Adam gave her a look, and outside of the camera frame, signaled her to wait. He talked about another one of their sponsors, said goodbye to their subscribers and their classic outro line (family always first, and y’all are family) to their subscribers, and just then walked over to help her after he turned the camera off.

“God, fuck…!” she groaned, holding onto her stomach as she struggled to stand up straight.

“Language” Adam raised an eyebrow, pointing at Ryatt with his head.

“Bullspit, I’m so darn over with this”, pointing to herself, Alisa looked down at her gravid stomach. “I’m so fucking done. I can’t wait to get this baby out of me and… And I told you I would prefer to keep his birth private, Adam”

The tone wasn’t stern or accusative, just done— deep down, Alisa knew her husband was going to do whatever he wanted anyway. Little choice she had.

“I know, I know…” Adam shrugged, his eyebrows raising and his mouth scrunching up.

He knew, of course, he did, but to be honest, he didn’t care enough. His wife was being dramatic as if she hadn’t gone over with this two times already. But he knew that he had to add something to fill the silence that followed, he always did have something to say.

“If I could, babe, I would carry our baby for you” he sighed dramatically, turning around and away from his wife. “Actually, I wish I could be pregnant instead of you right now, honey…”

His words were left hanging in the air as Adam disappeared into the hallway to the kitchen, ready to grab a beer and sit down on the couch to relax for a while before getting to edit.

Actually, I wish I could be pregnant instead of you right now.

Alisa stared at his back as he disappeared into the kitchen. His nice legs and his toned arms, his perfect back and she couldn’t see the six-pack, but it was there. Because Adam didn’t have to carry two kids, to gain weight and to lose weight, to lose his six-pack or to see his whole body change in a matter of months.

It wasn't him who had to endure the contractions, the labor, or the long hospital nights while waiting to be able to spread his legs open and push.

He didn’t wish he could be pregnant. Oh, but Alisa did.

***

Alisa made breakfast, did laundry, got through the morning with two kids under 5 and all while dealing with those awful cramps that kept interrupting her. They weren't contractions, she knew those pretty well, but they were the foreword of a long story.

Adam? He edited their latest video and went to take a nap on the couch.

Without opening his eyes, Adam let out a small groan and tilted his head to hide his face against one of the cushions. Something had interrupted his sleep, but he didn’t hear Ryatt's cries or Bobby playing loudly somewhere in the house, nor his wife complaining about something.

So he did what everyone would do, he didn’t even bother fully opening his eyes and tried to go fall back into a deep slumber.

But something was off. His head was feeling dizzy and his whole body was… acting funny. An overall feeling of being sick, something he ate, probably.

He shifted, moving his hips to turn to his side, and he frowned when he felt something in his stomach move. With a groan, the hand that rested between his thighs slid off from there to move to his abs, rubbing the soft spot trying to ease whatever was grumbling inside his tummy.

Soft, a bit harder if he pressed down. But it didn’t have to be soft, he hit the gym 6 days a week and had washboard abs, he was the envy of all the suburban dads in their neighborhood. Suddenly, his stomach fussed again, and this time it came accompanied by a cold free of air brushing against his skin, making him shiver.

Half asleep, fighting to pull a strand of consciousness and get himself up fully, Adam’s features turned into a confused grimace as his mind finished coming back to this reality. When he finally opened his blue eyes, covering his face with his hands to dismiss the headache that the sunlight from the windows gave him, he immediately knew something wasn’t right.

His free hand was still rubbing over his stomach, and it was still… It was round. Round and firm, the protuberance that rested under the palm of his hand.

“What…?” Adam mumbled, confusion slowly taking over his sleepiness and pulling him back to reality.

He was wide awake now, his body and mind alert. When he looked down at himself, the scream of horror that left his lips almost deafened him, leaving his eardrums ringing loudly and his heart hammering against his chest.

It felt cold. The cold breeze brushing against his skin because his white shirt was now all lifted over to his chest, exposing his warm skin to the air. His shirt was lifted because where it was supposed to be a flat, toned stomach, now there was a fat, round belly, nothing like what he had ever seen before.

He must have eaten something bad, something that made him bloat and just feel weird overall, but bloat like this?

In front of him, his stomach wasn't just bloated, it felt tight and hot at the touch and the skin was itchy, stretched to the limit in what seemed to be the few hours he was asleep. His abs were gone, and now a gravid mount of flesh sat there, huge and tender.

From confusion, Adam's mind raced to fear, because there was no logical or reasonable explanation to any of this. If it was something he ate, then it was something that made him terribly wrong and he probably should head to the doctor ASAP.

But, deep down, Adam knew it wasn't something he ate. Under a thinning layer of denial, he knew.

His chest wrenched with his agitated breaths, and Adam tried to lift himself up from the couch. He failed, not used to the weight that he carried now on his middle (God, he was heavier now) and the only thing he could do was to lay there for a few seconds, staring down.

At his belly.

He felt like he needed to puke when unexpectedly something inside him squirmed.

He closed his eyes tightly to avoid nausea rising up in his throat, and the deprivation of one of his senses seemed to whip up the other ones. He could feel how hot the skin that covered his now rounded stomach was, how hot his body was, how heavy he felt and how something was squirming inside him.

His left hand moved over his stomach, right under his left rib, and he swallowed. As soon as his hand pressed down against the tense flesh, another tiny hand pressed back from the inside.

"Fuck, fuck fuck..." gripping at the couch's back, a loud moan escaped from his lips as he curled his fingers around the fabric above the couch, holding onto it desperately, lifting himself up.

It was, to say at least, weird to carry himself around now. The few seconds that he ran, well, more like waddled, towards the bathroom were something. So this was what it was like?

The image in the mirror proved what Adam already knew.

I wish I could be pregnant.

He stared at his reflection, turning to the side to let his eyes travel from the top of his head to his middle, then turned to his other side and to the front again. His hand moved to rest on top of his stomach as if he needed another confirmation that it was there and it was real.

He thought about it for a moment, before he pinched the tight skin of his belly. He hoped he would wake up, there was a small part of him that still hoped this was just a bad dream and his mind was doing some crazy tricks while his real body was still asleep on the couch. But he was awake.

The waistband of his sweatpants moved down a centimeter. He looked down, his eyes wide open as he witnessed right in front of him how his stomach swelled, the skin extended and shifting as his stomach grew in size.

***

The front door opened, and Bobby rushed in, throwing his frog backpack next to the door before Alisa followed him with Ryatt clinging to her hip. Adam made his way to her as quickly as he could.

“Oh! Mommy, look!” Bobby shouted as soon as he saw him, his little finger pointing to Adam’s gravid stomach. “Daddy has Little brother now! Look!”

But Adam couldn't even stop to look at him, because he could only focus on the fact that where Alisa was supposed to have a nine-month overdue belly, there was just a flat stomach. Fuck.

They stood in front of each other, Alisa looked at him, then down at his belly, and then up at him again.

“Well, I guess wishes do come true, honey!” The tone was so cheerful that it made Adam’s blood boil.

Probably…his hormones messing with him? As if that was the least of his problems. A cramp took over him, painful enough to bring a frown to his face and make him rub the side of his belly.

“We need to go to the hospital!”

“Why the rush?”

A dark spot started to spread all over Adam’s grey sweatpants as a gush of amniotic fluid came out of him.

“My…your…my water just broke!”

“You need to change, and we need to take the kids to my mom’s house…”

“Why are you so calm?”

“Relax, honey” she sighed “I have done this two times already! It’s gonna be just fine. You have to change, go get the hospital bag, oh, and of course get the camera!”

“We are not… fuck… filming this” he breathed, gripping the table next to him when another sharp pain took over him.

“What do you mean?” Alisa frowned as she picked up Bobby's backpack again “It's a tradition at this point. Of course, we're filming. It’s going to be a hit.”

Besides the fact that all of this escaped all logic and reason, there was a tangible reality. Something that was happening right here, right now, and it was the fact that Adam was in labor. Didn't matter how much he tried to deny what was going on, to say he was still dreaming, because the pains that were shooting through his middle, contracting the muscles and making him whine felt very real and were happening, quicker and faster every minute.

He took a deep breath, moving his hand under his belly to lift it slightly, hoping to ease the pain or the pressure that was starting to build up on his hips, but it didn’t work. He wasn't sure how much time he had before it got actually serious, but he did know that after his water broke, it was little.

“Turn that off…” Adam titled the camera that rested on the car seat cup holder away, his free hand flying to wipe sweat from his forehead. “Oh, fuck…”

Alisa tilted the camera back to its original position. Her husband shifted on the passenger's seats, his both hands now busy rubbing the contracting bump that rested between his open thighs.

Well, at least now he knew that contractions were more painful than a kick in the balls.

“Oh, oh, ah!” He cried out, his body tightening up, and a low groan leaving him as he leaned forward pressing his palms against the dashboard and panting heavily. “Fuck, I need you to… ugh… I need you to drive faster, honey.”

“Babe, I’m going as fast as I can,” Alisa replied, looking at him through the corner of her eye. “Just breathe, okay?”

Looking outside the window, Adam tried to find a distraction. Anything, really, that made him not think about the increasing pressure that was building between his legs and about how low the baby was.

He shifted in his seat, his hips swinging back and front trying to find a spot that didn't make him feel so miserable. Placing a hand on the side of the seat and another on the grab handle, Adam leaned forward and spread his legs as another loud grunt escaped his lips, his eyes closing tight and his breath picking up again when another tight contraction hit him.

He tried breathing, in and out just as he would tell Alisa to do, but it wasn’t doing shit.

The heavy weight on his hips and pelvis was getting closer and closer to coming out. Adam didn’t want it to come out. At least not here, in the fucking car in the middle of the road.

“We’re five minutes away from the hospital” Alisa reassured, her hand patting his tense thigh. “Just breathe”

“I don’t… ughn, fuck! I don’t know if I can… oh… hold it in that much longer” Adam panted, moving to unclasp the seatbelt that now pressed uncomfortably against his stomach. “Fuck, there’s pressure. It feels like… I have to push!”

“How do you even know that you have to push?” Stopping at a red light, Alissa raised both eyebrows before tilting to face him.

“Because it’s coming out!” Adam cried, moving back on his seat to prop up both feet against the dashboard, throwing his head back as he moaned.

“Just breathe. We’re almost there”

Just breathe. We’re almost there. The words were an echo, and Adam was sure that he said those exact phrases before, before the births of their two kids, in this exact same car. But he didn’t realize how useless, how annoying having someone repeating just calm down was.

God, fuck, he wondered how Alissa didn’t just slap him those times. If anyone was going to tell him to calm the fuck down again, he was going to kill someone.

His murder instincts were quickly dismissed when he closed his eyes, his hands moving to slide under his belly and lifting it slightly, as if it could help to ease the pressure on his pelvis. With a cry, he shifted forward, now moving his hands to slide under his thighs, lifting his hips from the car seat.

It was coming. Now. And out.

He could feel his own body pushing against his wishes, and the more he tried to avoid it, the worse it was, the baby helpless making its way down his pelvis and towards his hole. It felt as if at the first bump Alisa hit on the road the baby would just pop out of him.

He didn’t notice when he pushed back in the seat, breathing heavily through his nose as he pressed himself down against the seat, trying to prevent anything from coming out.

But it was useless because his commitment lasted little when his brain was overwhelmed by the urge to just allow his body to do what it had to do. To push.

The baby’s head was right there. Adam’s hand slid between his legs, the palm of his hand pressing against his bulging hole, the head sitting behind his entrance and almost ready to start crowning. Almost out of him.

“…fuck!” he writhed, gritting his teeth as he kicked against the car floor. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

The fingers of his free hand gripped at the grab handle, knuckles turning white, and his other hand was busy pressing against his hole, trying to keep the head from coming any further. It was useless because the head was still pushing its way down, out of him on its own.

He could feel the bulge against his palm, growing ever so slowly as Alissa pressed her foot on the pedals. Adam threw his head back, closing his eyes shut and trying to focus on his breath. The same advice he always gave: breathe.

His chest rose slowly as he inhaled, then shakily exhaled through his closed lips. It should be fine, he just had to breathe —in and out and counting to five— focus on remaining calm, and he could just make it to the hospital. They were just a few minutes away, all he had to do was… push.

“Oh, fuck, it’s coming!” he screamed, kicking his feet in the air, his hips shifting forwards and to the seat edge. “Honey, Alissa, it’s right there”

Alissa tilted her head, looking away from the road for a brief moment to face her husband. She found herself contemplating an image that, deep down in her stomach, in a very hidden spot and a very small dose, made her happy: she got exactly what she wanted. Her husband going through all of the wonderful miracles of birth.

Adam panted, the tense orb his stomach had become contracting and tensing in front of him, his hands gripping at the taunt red skin, furiously trying to relieve the pain or the pressure, his body almost shaking by the urge of pushing the baby that was starting to crown. His face was red and sweaty, hands and all of his body straining and tense.

Alissa, rightfully, stopped at a red light, a bunch of cars passing in front of them.

“Don’t stop, fuck, it’s…!” Adam shouted, but then his words became a muffled groan as he gritted his teeth, pushing his chin to his chest. “I can’t hold it in, I’m pushing!”

Even against his wishes, his body was pushing. Adam found himself trying to hold the baby in, to not give in to the urge, but his body was pushing. His stomach contracted and he found himself tensing, chin to chest, and gripping at the grab handle as he pushed. He counted to three and pushed again when another cramp took over him.

“Fuck!” he shouted, feeling the head stretching him open, making its way out. Adam reached with a free hand to press his hand over his wet, birth-fluid-stained shorts, only to feel the start of a bulge in his pants.

The pressure of the head right about to crown was hell. It only made him want to push to get over it, to push more to get the head to a full crown and get rid of the uncomfortable feeling, but god fuck he didn’t want to give birth to this baby in the car.

“It’s crowning, the head’s-... nhgn, what am I supposed to do!?” it was more a whimper than a question, and Adam found himself kicking in the air, biting his lower lips until he almost drew blood. “Shit, shit, shit…! Ughn!”

“I don’t know!” Alissa stepped on the gas and accelerated. “Don’t push! Just… wait! We’re almost there, just five minutes away from the hospital.”

Adam nodded, then shook his head, both hands moving to cup the underside of his belly, trying to relieve the pressure that was weighing him down. It didn’t work, and he found himself trying to contain a moan when another contraction rippled through his body, a gush of amniotic fluid rushing from between his legs and dripping to the car floor.

His hips jerked frantically as he rocked forth and back slightly, trying to find any angle that was comfortable for him to keep this baby in, but it was terribly useless because, with every movement of his body, the baby's head seemed to come closer and closer to a full crown.

“Ughn…!” he moaned, his fingers gracelessly trying to slide under the hem of his pants in order to pull them down. The baby was coming. “Fuck, it’s coming, I’m pushing….!”

His finger’s ministrations were interrupted when he interrupted when another contraction took over him, all of his focus on pushing. He gripped the sides of his belly, leaving white marks on the red skin, as he closed his eyes and whimpered.

“Oh, oh– it’s out, the head’s out!”

It wasn’t necessary for him to say it out loud because Alissa’s attention was dangerously divided between looking at the road and staring down between her husband's legs. His pants were dark and wet, stained by amniotic fluid, and the baby’s head bulged out of them almost obscenely -–god, it was huge—, only contained from coming further by the fabric of the pants.

“Fuck— I need to push, I need to push, I’m pushing!” he moaned, throwing his head back against the car seat and jerking his hips forward, his hands desperately trying to undo his shorts. “Ughn…the…mhgm…pants! Help me!”

“I can’t, hands at 9 and 3!”

With a loud whimper, Adam finally managed to pull his shorts down enough to allow the baby’s head to pop out of him free, a gush of fluid dampening his seat as the head dangled between his legs. His body shook at the feeling of the head stretching him open on its biggest point, and then the relief when it was finally out. Alissa stared in horror as her husband held the baby’s head in hand with one hand between his legs.

Alissa reached a hand to help Adam slide his pants down more, his body contorting as he pulled forward, pushing his hips towards the free space of whatever was left in the car. Now with his pants to his ankles, his body tensed once again, and he squirmed on his seat as he focused on the next contraction that rippled through his body.

“...fuck, nhgn!” his face became red as his feet kicked the car floor, kicking and screaming as he pushed. “Nhgn!”

With his next push, the baby’s body almost came shooting out of him. He screamed in pain as he felt the body coming out of him, the shoulders being even worse than the head. But before he could realize, it was over. A second later he heard a heavy cry, and the newborn resting against his chest.

His body slumped against the seat. He looked outside the windows, seeing the well known entrance of the hospital as Alissa parked the car, parking it at the nearest spot available. Before unclasping her seatbelt, Alissa reached to grab the videocamera. Adam stared at it before he spoke.

"You filmed it, right?”

#birth kink #pregnancy #labor #birth denial #pregnancy fantasy #mpreg #fpreg #clothing birth #car birth #birt in car #trying to hold it in #stories

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90ekz · 4 months

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“WE AINT GOOD-GOOD, BUT WE STILL GOOD”

debrief: when your ex-boyfriend ony comes down with a cold, you clock into your nurse shift, as well as resolving some old feelings.

tags: black!fem!reader, sickfic but like.. not, use of the n word, make-ups and break-ups, you make ony nervoussss 🥹, implied eremin (i love them), pure fluff, healthy communication cs ik some of y’all be bashin niggas heads in

an: bringing in the new year with some fluff !! i love you guys, and may 2024 bring everything you desire in abundance <3

ex-boyfriend!ony who was so heartbroken when y’all split, but knew it was for the best. he didn’t wanna drag you down with all his mess, (even if you insisted over and over that you were okay) and you were busy trying to get your masters. even through this, close contact was kept, and y’all leaned on each other for support.

that’s why it was such a shock when connie and jean had let it slip that he’d been sick for 3 days. you sat on the notion, wondering why he didn’t come to you or even say anything, and waited for a call, but when none came after a few hours, you were dialing his number harshly into your phone and letting it ring with a scowl on your face.

“onyankopon.” you spit over the phone, hearing him sputter at the use of his full name. dull music played in the background, and you could swear you hear other voices, hushed.

“h-hey mama, what’s goin on?” ony refused to let his composure slip, all his boys were over and he had told them that he had stopped fuckin’ with you. they all opted to come over to chill (smoke) even while he was down with a real bad cold. he caved and took a few hits before deciding that his lungs weren’t strong enough right now, and passing the spliff to connie wordlessly.

“you got something you wanna tell me?” you sat patiently, giving him the opportunity to tell the truth before jumping to conclusions. maybe there was a reason for it, everything happens for a reason, right?

“uh…nah i been chillin—hold up.” your eyebrow jumped at his labored breathing mixed with the sound of him hushing someone in the background before pressing the phone back to his ear. “anyways. im good, nothing to tell you, im cool. you cool?” your suspicion grew at his constant throat clearing and groans.

“you a damn lie.” before he could even respond, you were hanging up the phone and two beep sounds rung in his head. he tried to call back twice before getting a notification that you’d left home and were on the pathway to his house. the drive was only about 10 minutes, and knowing you, you’d be here in 5.

“aw shit—all y’all gotta go.” ony stumbled to his feet, ushering connie, eren, armin, and jean out of their seated positions and towards the front door. “man i was just getting high, the fuck goin’ on?” eren mumbles lightly, placing his jacket around armin’s shoulders and finishing packing his bag.

“someone’s coming over, c’mon.”

“who bruh?”

“y/n nigga, i think she knows im sick. y’all gotta go, now.” the whole group erupts in protests of ‘i thought y’all were done’ and ‘don’t kick us out for that, man!’ but ony didn’t care. he hadn’t seen you in person for a while, and he still needed to cover his tracks. the whole group rolls their eyes, save for connie and jean, who looked like they’d seen a ghost.

“connie, jean, why y’all look like that? what did y’all do?”

“it was him!” jean points to connie, completely throwing him under the bus. connie almost protests until he sees the sour look on ony’s face, and they’re scattering out the door with ‘im sorry’s’ flaking from their lips, leaving armin and eren to snicker under their breath.

“you said you were done with her, why now?”

“as much as i would love to give you an in-depth synopsis on my relationship status, i really don’t have time for allat right now.”

eren rolls his eyes, his attitude shown clear on his face. he wasn’t the biggest fan of ony’s relationship with you, considering that he’s the one who has to hear all the bullshit between you two. armin intertwines his pinkies with eren, an easy soother to his irritation.

“if i have to hear about this shit later, i’ll kill you.”

with reluctance, the couple left—armin apologetically excusing eren’s rudeness—and ony was left to spray fabreeze for the weed smell, and splash cold water on his face to hopefully extinguish his up-ticking fever, just in time for your harsh knocks to come on the door.

ony opened it, albeit barely enough for you to see his flushed face. he was feeling real feverish now….

“you ain’t tell me you was coming over.”

“i don’t have to tell you. open this damn door and stop playin wit me.” ony gulps as he unlocks the chain on the door and sees you fully. all you had on was his hoodie that he was sure you said you were gonna give back, and some nike pro shorts that he couldn’t see. you held a bag of unknown contents in your hand. you eyed him up and down before stepping inside like you owned the place.

he loved when you did that shit, this man is down bad.

you twirled the string of his sweatpants between your freshly done nails, and ony swears his temperature went up 10 degrees. you had this look in your eye that was the epitome of concern and irritation having a fist fight.

“so when were you gonna tell me that you were sick?”

“i wasn’t. i didn’t want you to worry about it, but the opptastic duo just had let you know, i guess.” ony followed as you proceeded deeper in the house, but you paused as you entered the living room. your eyebrows furrowed and your nose crinkled.

“what’s that smell?”

ony gulped, just playing shrugging and playing dumb. the cloud of fabreeze hadn’t really covered the weed smell all the way, and he was sure that you were about to bust him for smoking while he was sick, and he really wasn’t tryna hear all that at the moment. he was ready to get in his bed (preferably with you in it..)

“do not play wit me, what is that japanese cherry blossom shit im smelling?” you threw your keys and bag down and paced around the living room, flipping over pillows and looking under couch cushions. ony protested, promising that he didn’t know what you were talking about, and thought to himself that you were just smelling yourself.

until you pulled an empty cart refill wrapper from beneath the cushion.

aw shit.

you looked at him like he was a dumbass—which he was—before watching him smack his teeth and snatch the wrapper from your hand begrudgingly. the words “CHERRY GLAZE” in bold lettering burned his eyes, before vaguely remembering that armin had switched out his liquid before he’d left.

ony teetered on the truth, but he knew you’d be pissed about him having his boys over when he was clearly sick, so he settled on a lil white lie.

“oh, that’s uh—that’s some of my old shit.”

“if i’m recalling correctly, aren’t you the one that said that you didn’t like smoking that ‘fruity shit’?” ony cleared his throat—in a way he only does when he lies—before just grunting in response.

“and even if you didn’t say that, you hate cherry flavored anything, so that begs the question… what bitch was smoking this shit on your couch?” you jabbed your freshly done pointer nail into his chest, feeling his breath stutter under your touch.

he was caught between a rock and a hard place, and figured he’d just tell you the truth, even if you’d get mad.

“basically, the boys came over and eren brought his lil boyfriend or whatever he is—”

“wait, eren’s gay?”

“apparently. anyways, his name is armpit… or was it arm and hammer… whatever sum like that, and he was smoking his cart and replaced the liquid on the couch and i guess the wrapper fell between the cushions. no bitches were over here, i swear.” ony holds his hands up in defense, reassuring you that he was telling the truth. you smiled, as you believed him regardless. you knew he didn’t roll like that anyway.

“bae, relax. i believe you, i was just tryna see you sweat. just sit down, i bought you some soup.” you smiled at him with all your teeth, and ony was sure that he fell in love all over again. he missed you more than words could explain, and he just wanted you to come home again.

he finally let himself relax and he slumped onto the couch, his headache hammering against the back of his eyes. you took a seat on the ottoman next to him, unpacking his favorite potato soup and crackers. you crush up the crackers in the soup and stir, just like he likes, and unscrew the cap of his blue fanta.

“i think—no, i’m already in love with you. i dont think i ever stopped.” ony mutters as you spoon feed him and he has the urge to cry. you were always so gentle and caring with him, and you’ve never stopped, regardless of what the relationship status was. that’s what he loved most about you—it didn’t matter what happened between you too, if he needed you, you were there.

he missed you so, so bad.

“stop talking with your mouth full, you’re gonna get soup on your new carpet.” you attempted to brush off his words, and the way that they were making your face heat up.

“fuck the carpet. i’ve never been so serious in my life, mama. i love you more than you know. ‘just want you to come back to me.”

you two broke up because you mutually needed space and time to yourselves. it was an agreement, yet neither of you committed to it for more than a week. before you knew it, you were back texting him good morning, as he was texting you good night. all you wanted was to be his girlfriend again, but you wanted to give him the space he needed.

you set the spoon and soup aside, watching the way ony’s deep brown eyes twinkle under the low light of the living room.

“ony, i want to give you your space, that’s the whole reason we broke up to begin with. you deserve that.”

“i had enough space. you not living here no more, not being up under me when i sleep, not kissing me when i wake up, only seeing you at parties, that’s space, and i’m real tired of it,” ony laces his fingers with yours, kissing the back of your knuckles as he used to do.

“i want you back. i want you back in my face all the time, i wanna wake up mad cause you took all the covers, but then it goes away when i see how cute you look all bundled up. i want my initials on your nails again, i want you. i need you, baby. come home to me, please—“

“okay, okay! that’s enough, you’re embarrassing me!” you hide your head in the crook of his neck, suddenly feeling bashful about the way he was relaying his apparent undying love to you. everything he does flusters you still. you don’t miss the way his hands grasp you even tighter than they used to, if that’s even possible.

“i just want you to promise me that i’m not hurting you.”

“you could never. my perfect girl would never.” ony places a kiss on the top of your head, making sure to hold you even tighter. you choose not to mention his sniffles at the current moment, and let yourself be lost in his love.

“i missed you too, ony.”

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2knightt · 1 month

Note

CANT HOLD IT IN ANY LONGER!!! i’m utterly obsessed with the curtis brothers.

idk if u do this, but if u can, the curtis brothers with a reader who’s super down bad for them? they make it so clear, too. constantly doing everything for them, making food, buying snacks, just utterly everything. compliments, holding their hand religiously … yk.

୧ ׅ𖥔 ۫ you know i’m a fool for you. ⋄ 𓍯

…IN WHICH! you think the curtis brothers are the only men on the planet.

tags/warnings: swearing(on my end/once during dialogue.) reader being slightly overprotective or insane, mentions of reader getting hit on, mentions of reader leaving lip stick stains, me not knowing what to write for darry.

ೃauthor notes⁀➷ i’m using ny other accounts layout bc i can’t be bothered rn. also i’m here to feed y’all i’ve noticed the outsiders x reader tag is lowkey dry asl.

Ponyboy Curtis:

WOAH HE CAN’T HANDLE ALLAT😭

like actually. he is TWEAKING AT ALL TIMES! when you first like started complimenting him, showering him in kisses, giggling n’ shit—he thought it was a one time thing.

ponyboy just thought he’d have to thug that shit out once a week or something. he was, in-fact, pleasantly surprised when you continued to do it.

“you’re so-mwah-cute! i wish-mwah-i could-mwah-hold you forever!”

“y/n…😣”

he’s so flustered omfg like actually he’s beet red LMFAOOO. if you were to put your fingers to his forehead it’d be so hot. like ponyboy’s avoiding eye contact, his lips are tightened, etc.

if he were to stay the night at your place—you make him all types of food. like, food he’d never heard of. or food he’d dream about after eating bologna for a week,

“for me? …really?”

“mhm! c’mon, don’t let it get cold now.”

ponyboy is DIGGING RIGHT THE FUCK IN. okay he is SCARFING THAT DOWN. after he’d be a little embarrassed of how quickly he ate but like you just took it as a good thing.

thinks you’re the best cook ever tbh. gordan ramsey has nothing on you type levels.

going on a walk with him to go grocery shopping for the curtis house with your hands intertwined and letting ponyboy ramble about this annoying substitute he had!!! IT’S REAL!!! ALL OF IT!!!

“n’ then he tried to tell me my answer was wrong when i studied last night—I EVEN ASKED MY FRIENDS. so, i know it was right. i just think mr. johnson had a personal vendetta against me.”

“smh…i could do slash his tires if you’d like♡!”

“what”

“nothing.”

AWHHH PONYBOY FOLLOWING YOU AROUND THE STORE LIKE A LOST PUPPY BECAUSE HE DOESN’T KNOW WHAT TO BUY LMFAO

he’d like holding your sleeve or the hem of your shirt as you walk around, looking more awkward above all else.

uwahh showering ponyboy in compliments late at night when it’s just the two of you, twirling his hair as you hold him closer!!!

“you’re hair is so pretty. it’s so soft…i dunno why you put grease in it. if i was you—i’d never let anyone touch it.”

“i don’t. i only let you.”

“…REALLY??🥰🥰😚😚”

ur friends are soooo sick of you talking about ponyboy LMFAOOOO like actually. every time you go, ‘omfg did i tell you guys, he-‘ they know to just let you mindlessly ramble.

“and then ponyboy read to me ‘til i fell asleep! he’s so sweet—i dunno how he’s real!”

“i dunno how you’re so whipped.”

“he must be the funniest motherfucker on the planet if y/n’s this obsessed.”

Sodapop Curtis

OHHH Y’ALL ARE AT A CONSTANT WAR TO SEE WHO’S GONNA BEAT THE OTHER AT BEING THE BETTER PARTNER LMFAOOO

HE’S usually the whipped one in the relationship…he felt both extremely lucky and threatened when you started attacking him with kisses…

“you’re so handsome. i’m just the luckiest person on earth—ain’t i?”

“…yeah…🤨”

“why’d you say it like that?😞”

“cause I’M the luckiest person on the earth…I’M supposed to be tellin’ you this…”

but as time goes on—he does take the loss and accepts you’re better at him. for now. it’s only a matter of seconds until sodapop thinks of something insane to show his love for you.

anyways! IMAGINE COOKING WITH HIM OHHHH NY GODDDDD /?:&$:&: he just mainly stands there and looks pretty as he asks what you’re doing but SHHH. HE’S MORAL SUPPORT.

“…what?”

“i’m chopping onions for the flavour, honey.”

“you don’t like onions, though?”

“i don’t like the crunch rather than the flavou—YOU REMEMBERED I DON’T LIKE ONIONS??☹️☹️”

“of course i would!”

gladly holds ur hand 24/7. i’m not kidding. you two are like super magnets. HEHEHE IMAGINE HIM DRIVING WITH ONE HAND ON THE WHEEL AND HIS OTHER HAND HOLDING YOURS!!/!2!

you do take him grocery shopping. only sometimes, though. he only buys junk food rather than actual food.

“can i get these? please?”

“you already have two bags of chips in the cart, soda.”

“okay..😣”

“SIGH…get them.”

“HURRAY!”

knows you can’t say no to him and that’s like the only time he uses it to his advantage.

soc’s do hit on you under the premise of ‘showing you how a real man is supposed to spoil a lady like you.’ HOWEVER, you look at them like they’re aliens.

“hey, baby. what’re you doin’ around here?”

“…EW.”

“???”

they’re shocked above all else as they see you turn away from them and quickly walk away without looking back. AND WOOO SODA IS SO PROUD.

Darry Curtis

the gang acts like you two are constantly fighting whenever you start to look at darry with that sparkle in your eyes.

“guys, PLEASE! YOU’RE BREAKING UP THE FAMILY! STOP ARGUING!”

“what the hell are you on about, soda?”

“you’re scaring pony!” “don’t bring me into this.”

“mind you’re own business, soda.”

AJDIEHJR DARRY HAVING A HAND AROUND YOUR WAIST AS YOU MUTTER SWEET NOTHINGS BETWEEN KISSINGS>>>

you two are a POWER COUPLE IN THE GROCERY STORE! EVEN IF YOU REFUSE TO LET HIM PAY AND HE GETS POUTTY! EVEN IF HE DOESN’T TAKE COMPLIMENTS WELL!

“y/n, please. these are for my house.”

“so?? my wallet was out first.”

“that doesn’t mean anything. baby, i’m telling you, i’m paying.”

“too late, i already handed the cashier the money.”

you cook and clean for the curtis’ to take something off of darry’s back out of the kindness in your heart and totally not because you want him to pay more attention to you!! NEVER!!

but you do enjoy the fact that darry has more time to sit down and pay attention to you! and darry really likes the extra time he has!!

“you didn’t have to.”

“yes i did! you’ve been so stressed out, it’s the least i could do for you.”

“you’re such a treat, y’know.”

“mh. only f’you.”

you FORCE him to hold your hand. sometimes he forgets that he’s supposed to hold your hand in public so do NOT BE AFRAID TO GRAB IT YOURSELF.

but once you do, darry is the last person to let go. maybe to wrap an arm around your hip—BUT THAT’S IT.

teehee leaving lipstick stains on his white t-shirt accidentally🫶🫶!! it’s all so real to me!! sure, darry’s a little annoyed but it’s okay! he can never be mad at you!

#2knightt #the outsiders #the outsiders x reader #ponyboy curtis x reader #ponyboy x reader #ponyboy curtis blurb #ponyboy curtis imagine #sodapop x reader #sodapop curtis x reader #sodapop curtis blurb #sodapop curtis imagine #darry curtis x reader #darry curtis blurb #darry curtis imagine

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badly-drawn-doflamingo · 1 month

Text

Yorki and ‘His Illness’;

Oda really knew how to drive the knife in when it comes to the story of Yorki and his crew, man…

From the choice of scenes before we get to see the bed-ridden body to the actual real world equivalents, its really rough on the heart.

What we knew about Yorki, from the scenes right before the announcement of his illness getting worse, is both his confidence and his strength.

The scene we get to see is his crew surrounding his brand new bounty, Yorki cheering and proudly proclaiming his joy for it. We see the great swaft of muscles on him, his chest fully exposed and his hair bright and fluffy along his shoulders. His face is clear, his arms fill out his coat, which is important later on, and he holds such a pride that he reminds me quite a lot of Luffy. We see him break up fights, offering advice to his men and we see him joking and drinking alongside his caring crew… and Brook. Brook is always by his side, during the mornings when he brushes his teeth, to the night when they drink side by side. They’re always together.

[ buff pirate cowboy! ] Until they’re not. Now comes the topic that may be a bit rough, the real life equivalent of what we see Yorki suffering from. I'll list the symptoms and y’all can make what assumptions you wish, and again, I’m not truthfully claiming its any REAL ILLNESS, but I mean simply it is inspired by, acting the same and such. We see a cold compress, so it’s bothering his body temperature. We see sunlit windows, open to the fresh air as if that could help. We see spotting across his face, and hands; small wounds, growing in number. We see his hair, like a mock halo loosely scattered across the pillow he lays in, and it’s stringy now, not glossy or kept. His mouth his covered by a mask, so they believe its airborne/touch. These sound to me, a lot like a certain sickness, one passed by blood which is interesting given the scenes we see before this are Yorki and the members who now are sick, sword fighting with a rival crew. The doctor states he's unsure what it is, but is treating it best he can, as what he believes it to be is unknown. But knowing what we do on old methods of that certain sickness, it would make sense. The mask helps, the spit and body fluids being a factor, but the idea of sunlight and fresh air helping is an olden falsehood. The men come into the room, and Yorki speaks to them through horse coughs, offering words of encouragement and laughing through the mask as they shuffle out. They know the truth of this serious matter, and Yorki does too. They leave, each crying their hearts out for perhaps they did not realize the truthful change until that moment. Brook certainly looks perturbed, staring blankly ahead at the bed. Note, most do not get too close to the bed, standing feet away, and not touching Yorki.

What a physical change from the man we saw before. But not too much mentally… or has it. He has a mask, mentally and physically still up; he gives them hope, tries, but… they see through it after months of his brushing off of the sickness perhaps.

After everyone leaves, Brook remains to stand, away from the bed until called. Called. Yorki calls to him, stating his name as he always did. “Brook.” “Yes.” And Brook comes closer, but not quite to the bedside, staring ahead with a blank expression. Than Yorki leans over, and grabs his hand, and in a flash of a moment Oda CHOSE for us to see, Brook looks disgusted. He grimences, brow furrowing at the wounded hand that touches him, but than we see what he sees lying in the bed; a weeping, broken husk. Yorki has begun to weep, sobbing as his confident facade is broken and melted away in front of his Vice-Captian. And Brook melts too, dropping to his knees and forgetting all of these ideas of illness, tossing any safety away for his crew and himself just to make Yorki feel seen, or perhaps because of his own need to love his dying partner. He clutches Yorki’s hand, and now we see the true damage the illness has done; Yorki’s wrist is thinner than Brooks. His arm is gaunt, and we see the bone. He is withering away, has been for months it seems, but Yorki always was good at excusing it with a confident smile. But now, in the bed, unable to stand and wracked and eaten away by something we can only claim perhaps as some blood related illness, he weeps before his partner. “Brook-” “YES? My Captain?” “Give them HOPE.”

I’ll just include the rest of the scene here for your own enjoyment.

I could dive into the fact that Brook believes he failed those words, or the fact the crew did not just die of poison, and their deaths were so gruesome the anime had to censor it. The fact Brook continues to “give the crew hope…” or the way he mentions he may not have made it out of the triangle alive.

However! That is for another day.

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abbyshands · 21 days

Note

YESSSS, imma piggy back on what you said real quick. Most people understand the concept of sex and the basic acts of sexual intercourse by middle school/the age of 12. It’s really not that hard to grasp and whether they’ve indulged in those certain acts or not doesn’t change the fact that they most likely know what it is.

So when people try to pass it on or even justify it as “well it’s an innocent reader/mc” or even “it’s just fiction” it doesn’t matter, you’re writing about someone and/or something in a childlike connotation. Who is actually saying or responding to “oh my cunny this” or “my private parts this” 🧍🏾‍♀️ Like be actually so real please. I’m telling you dude some of them like children and don’t wanna say it.

Don’t get me started on that “corruption” shit either cause a lot of y’all (whoever this applies to) are openly admitting to wanting to “ruin someone’s innocence” in your writing and it’s not cute like yall think it is😭

tw // pedophilia, csa

for fucking real. for the “corruption” kink, to be honest, it’s bearable as long as it isn’t to the degree of an overly innocnet “adult” reader, who may as well be a baby/child. but let’s be so serious: you’ll have had sex ed classes in high school if you’re an adult, regardless of “innocence,” etc, or religion, per say, because that seems to be an excuse people use to play off a “pure” reader who’s really more childlike when it comes down to it. you can be a virgin, “pure,” think sex is immoral, blahblahblah, while knowing its core fundamentals, and the basic concept. there’s no reason in hell an adult reader shouldn’t know where their clit/hole is, where a penis is inserted into a vagina, what cumming is, how sexual intercourse works as a general consensus, etc. there’s no reason your reader or your main character should be yapping ab a “cunny,” “clitty,” “private/princess parts,” “potty,” etc. are you fucking kidding me?

and then people are seriously bending over backwards to defend it? i mean, let’s be real, you’re not earning any points here. why are you defending a phenomenon where people find sexual pleasure, sexual arousal, in behaving like a baby/child during sexual intercourse? does that not sound unbelievably repulsive, or have i lost all common sense? i mean, fucking honestly. people need to get a grip. quit playing off coquette-ified pedophilia as a kink, because as a csa survivor, as someone who has seen what it’s like to put your trust into an adult as a child, then have them violate the shit out of you sexually, you fucking repulse me. i’m sick of seeing it all over my home page and it being so goddamn normalized. it’s triggering and i find it absolutely horrific. weird isn’t even the word: people. are fucking. sick.

#idec at this point ‘ y’all need help fr #abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson smut #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #the last of us #tlou #tlou2

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jeansplaytoy · 9 months

Text

“Ain’t Shit.” - c.springer

(part two here.) (part four here.)

part 3

you and connie always get into what seems like your final argument.

more arguing, mentions of violence, heavy weed smoking, cursing, overthinking, angst.

you weren’t scared of connie.

i mean, he always promised to never hurt you in any way you wouldn’t want or any way where it was out of pure violence. and he always kept that promise, even when you two were on and off. even when you were on bad terms or even when he was so mad at you, he didn’t even wanna speak to you.

and you hated yourself a little for questioning whether he was gonna keep that promise tonight.

so you were in the passenger side of ony’s car. he didn’t trust you enough with your own, making sasha and mikasa drive yours to your house.

you stared at the floor of the car, resting your elbow on the door. your nail had a bandaid around it. “you good?” ony glanced over at you. your left hand rested between your thighs for comfort. you nodded. your outfit had went from a party outfit to just that same crop top and a pair of shorts.

“why you lookin all depressed and shit?” he asked again, eyes on the road. “i’m not.” you spoke back. ony frowned and looked at you. “nah, for real? cus i ain’t never seen yo ass like this.” he played with his earring as one hand was on the steering wheel. “why are you tryna make it seem like it’s not normal to be quiet?” you chuckled a little to brush away the unintentional sad look on your face.

“that shit ain’t normal for you.” he mumbled. you looked at him and stared for a while.

“you think connie mad at me?” you asked. “connie? oh hell yeah, that niggas is pissed. like straight up.” he answered. you smacked your lips. “ony, i’m being for real.” you furrowed your eyebrows.

“what? you think i’m not?”

you paused. “…you serious?”

“what i just say.” he looked at you.

you frowned at him and rolled your eyes. “you really make me sick, bro.” you mumbled. “so you regret what you did.” he said. “hell naw. he cheated on me and tried to make me jealous, i only flirted with one nigga since we stopped talking.” you defended yourself, but ony hummed mid sentence.

“but the thing is, you fucked wit’ the opps.” he corrected you. you squinted. “okay so it’s good that he can cheat but i can’t fuck with somebody he don’t like? you saw him flirting with another bitch right there.” you sat up a little.

“he was flirting with somebody you don’t like, he wasn’t flirting with one of yo’ opps. that’s different. and fucked up.”

you stared at him again before sighing and sitting back. “i’m not even bouta talk to you right now.” you said. ony shrugged and sat back, resting his arm on the door.

ony was always like your big brother, and you always went to him when mikasa and sasha weren’t available. especially about connie, he’s the one that kept getting y’all back together in the first place. but you hated to be told the right thing. he spoke his mind, only sugar coated a little to not make you mad, but you just despised when someone told you something different from your original thought.

you knew he was telling the truth tho.

you stayed silent the whole ride until he finally made it to his house, where everybody else was, normally after every party. you got out the car, walking up to the door and opening it, waiting for him when you went behind the stairs.

he walked in front of you, opening the basement door. like just at the party, your nose filled with the scent of weed. you slowly walked in behind him, all eyes on you.

“y/nnn!” sasha smiled, waving you over to her. you smiled and waved back. mikasa was sitting beside eren and jean was beside armin, they were cracking silent jokes, seemingly.

“this one got all mad in the car when i tried to tell her right from wrong.” ony nudged the back of your head. you smacked his hand and rolled your eyes. “that’s why she always getting into a fight.” eren said while rolling up a blunt.

you sat beside sasha while grabbing the blunt from her, hitting it for a few seconds before exhaling and putting your phone in your lap.

the whole basement went silent as everyone did their thing. but what you didn’t dare to do was look up in front of you, because you’d be looking straight at connie. and you could tell he was piercing holes in your forehead as you picked your phone up again to find something to distract yourself with.

“so… what happened? between you and brooklyn. i mean— i saw everything but… y’know.” sasha said. “she beat her ass, that’s what happened.” jean mumbled, passing his blunt to armin while armin played some game on his phone.

“it’s really nothing now. i don’t care bout her.” you shrugged. “really.” ony raised his eyebrow. “ony shut up.” mikasa laughed as you grabbed the blunt you and sasha shared again. “nah she was so quick to beat her ass and wanna act like a baby now.” he chuckled a little while glancing at you.

“okay you act like you don’t be fighting a lot.” you looked at him. “i fight when i have to, not when i feel like i want to.” he mumbled before grabbing a bottle of tequila and drinking it.

“well she was being a bitch.” you mumbled with a shrug.

everyone went silent once again. and your eyes, who apparently have a mind of their own, moved over to connie who stared at you with low, bored eyes of his own.

the stare held for a good couple seconds. you didn’t know what he was thinking or what he wanted to say, but when ony moved over to sit beside him, you looked at sasha, who looked at you and then connie.

“y’all not gon’ try to make up?” armin suddenly spoke, glancing at you and connie.

“i’m not finna keep apologizing for stuff that don’t even be my fault.” connie said, slouching down on the circular couch. you squinted at him.

“don’t do that.” you mumbled while blowing smoke. “what? defend myself for the… fifth time?” he cocked his head back a little. you frowned. “connie, you act like you wasn’t rubbing all up on her ass and shit.” you sat up and held your hand out.

“y/n, you was kissing on floch and shit. dude was grabbing yo ass and shit. now if it was any other mu’fucka then i’d let that shit slide. but yo ass fuckin wit the opps.” he sat up. “might as well be one.”

you raised your eyebrows and your lips parted a little. “oh that’s what we doin now? nigga-“

“cut that shit out now, talk like adults.” jean waved at both of you.

“i don’t give a fuck.” you frowned. “shit, and you think i do?” connie laughed a little. that laughing shit pissed you off, especially when you was being deadass. you stared at him for a few seconds before standing up. “i’m finna get a drink.” you mumbled before walking towards the door.

you walked upstairs from the basement before walking to onys kitchen, going in the fridge to get a bottle of water.

why couldn’t you just be high?

“she piss me off with that shit bro.” connie mumbled, already getting mad. everybody looked at him. “you know how she is connie, she get mad easy, you get mad easy, y’all need to stop that shit.” mikasa shook her head, mixing some of her wine with orange juice, trying not to get too waisted again.

“straight up. y’all need to stop all that arguing and then fucking two hours after. ‘shit don’t make you happy, cus two days later yall finna be arguing bout the same shit.” jean spoke, eyes slowly getting pink from the smoke that burned his eyes from time to time.

connie stared at the floor. “i gotta piss.” he stood up to walk out of the basement.

you closed the fridge, opening the bottle of water to drink a little. “not tryna get drunk.” you whispered to yourself before downing the water.

you heard the bathroom door close as you leaned on the counter, wiping some water that dripped down the corner of your lips. you swallowed the last bit before staring down at the counter, exhaling and biting your lip.

you heard a noise behind you before turning your head, seeing connie.

you stared at each other for a couple seconds.

“what you doin in here?” you asked. “came to get space. thought you would’ve been back in the basement by now.” he said, opening the fridge to get a bottle of water. you stared at him and his movements, unintentionally backing away a little as he closed the refrigerator.

he paused and looked at you. “what’s wrong witchu?” he asked before drinking his water. “nothing.” you frowned at him. “why you acting like that?” he said quietly. you tilted your head forward. “like… what?” you leaned on the counter while looking at the ground.

connie shook his head, putting the water bottle back in the refrigerator before closing it again.

you looked at him as his back was towards you. you bit your lip softly. “you…” you started, but didn’t know what to say.

he raised his eyebrows at you, glancing at you.

“you still mad?”

he turned towards you and looked you in the eye. you didn’t know what he was thinking, just like all tonight.

“go back with the group before me.” was all he said before hopping on the counter.

you tilted your head a little. but choosing not to start another argument, you left the kitchen and went into the basement.

god, you wanted to punch him hard. and tell him how he really hurt you. but you wanted to kiss him, and tell him you forgave him, and how it was petty of you to do the things you did, and how you didn’t mean it.

“where’s connie?” sasha asked.

you looked at her and raised your eyebrows. “i didn’t know he left. ion know.” you said before sitting down.

everyone continued their conversation, and you stared at the ground, hands resting under your thighs. he really didn’t care anymore.

he didn’t.

you didn’t realize that your eyes were starting to burn. they also darted around the room, trying to make sure no one else saw you.

that’s when connie entered the room. his eyes only on you for a second before he walked over to ony, laughing at a joke he told.

your throat started to hurt and burn.

don’t cry. don’t cry. don’t cry. please don’t cry.

cry. cry. cry. cry. cry right now.

the same things repeating in your head. you inhaled deeply, looking at the ceiling.

you’ll be okay.

‘ex factor’ on REPEAT while making the last part. 😣 almost made myself cry shiddd.

part 4? :)

#aot headcanons #aot x reader #angst headcanons #connie springer #connie x reader #poc reader #aot angst #aot connie #connie springer x black reader #connie x black reader

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spacecowboyhotch · 4 months

Text

In Plain Sight, Ch 3: The Tempest

summary: nathan makes his intentions clear and as always…is a bit of an asshole while doing it.

pairing: nathan bateman x f!reader

contents: 18+/NSFW/MINORS DNI, enemies to lovers (sorta), boss/employee dynamics, pining, nerves, SIBLINGSSSS, mentions of care taking/sick relative, first date?? (after the fact), Nathan being A MEGA SIMPPPPPP

wc: 3,446

an: we get to meet reader’s sisters in this, both of which i love very very much! you also get a bit of reader’s background. and of course, nathan’s attempt at asking someone out. hope y’all enjoy and always thanks for reading! <3

in plain sight masterlist | part 4 | phart 5

Sleep last night was difficult…and interesting. It took you a while to fall asleep, your nerves feeling a little frazzled once you’d gotten in the car and started to think about how you were going to have dinner with Nathan. You’ve spent plenty of time alone with him, but within the boss-employee dynamic. This dinner he’s asked you to could still be that— but you wouldn’t have your usual protections. No pressing questions, no tasks, no screens to hide behind. You and him. And food. When’s the last time you shared a meal with someone other than your sisters?

Once you’d finally succumbed to sleep, your dreams were of him. It felt like nothing and everything all at once. Nathan was there. You’ve never dreamt of him before. You were in Nathan’s house— except it was clear that neither of you were working. You watched a movie together cuddling on the couch, cooked a meal, and took a walk through the forest. While the thought of that would never appeal to you in real life when you wake, there’s a peaceful feeling lingering. It’s a little unsettling.

You hop out of bed before you can allow yourself to start assigning meaning to the dream. It was simply that— a dream. A product of your nerves, and spending nearly every waking moment dedicated to learning, organizing and managing all the aspects of Nathan’s life.

You get caught up in your ungodly long morning routine. Breakfast and tea with your mom as you read from her favorite poetry book, picking your sisters’ lunches, showering. Pressing your sisters’ uniforms. Making sure your mother has everything she needs before the time gap it takes for the nurse to arrive. Writing out a to do list for when you get home and setting out your comfortable clothing. Once everything’s set you change out of your robe and into your work clothes. You’re spending too much time in front of the mirror, fidgeting and analyzing yourself. There’s no need to look perfect, it’s just Nathan. Mr. Bateman, you should call him even in your head for separation.

“You look extra pretty today,” Your youngest sister, Emma, mumbles sleepily from her place in your bed.

You smooth out your skirt for the millionth time, looking over your shoulder at her, “Yeah, you think so Em?”

She yawns, raising a fist to rub at her eye. “You did your hair all nice and you’re wearing a skirt.”

“I wear skirts all the time,” You reason with her (and maybe a little with yourself).

“Not the pretty one.”

You cross the room, leaning in to tickle her, “Hey— are you saying all my other skirts are ugly?”

Emma bursts into a fit of giggles, doing her best to twist away from you. “Stop it,” She wheezes.

“Take it back and I’ll stop,” You reason with her, unable to stop your own laughter.

“I’m sorry, I take it back,” She whines, thrashing playfully beneath you.

“You’re safe for now, little one. Do you want me to make you some oatmeal before I go?”

“Can you eat it with me?” Emma asks, hopeful.

“No, honey, I’ve got to go. But, I’ll be home early tonight. We can watch a movie, how does that sound.”

Emma’s quiet for a few moments, obviously disappointed but then she nods, and cracks a sad smile. You lean in to kiss her forehead, hugging her close.

“Go brush your teeth and I’ll make your breakfast.”

“Do you think sister wants to eat with me?”

It takes effort for you not to cringe. Of course Emma wants to spend time with her other sister, but it seems like Phil is in her fuck any and everyone phase. You’ll try to get through to her though, if not for her own sake, then for Emma’s. A 7 year old shouldn't be spending so much time alone, not when some of her family is right here.

“I’ll ask her. If not, you can go sit with momma, alright?”

“Okay.”

“Okay, little, up up. To the bathroom you go.”

You both stand, and you take her hand, dropping her off at the bathroom on your way to Phil’s room. To your surprise, the girl is already on up and on her phone when you crack the door.

She frowns, letting out a little sigh. “What?”

“Emma wants you to have breakfast with her.”

Phil rolls her eyes, not bothering to look over at you, “I’m not hungry.”

“Phillipa, you should eat. And you should always be excited to spend time with your sister.”

“She’s whiny.”

You cross the room, coming to sit beside her on the bed, “So are you.”

“Yeah and I have reason to be,” She murmurs defiantly.

“And she doesn’t?”

She grows quiet then, her thumb that had been continuously scrolling stopping in its tracks.

“Even if you don’t eat, could you just sit with her?” You ask, knowing that her shell has cracked a little.

“Fine, whatever,” She breathes.

“I’m making her a yogurt bowl. Do you want one?”

“No,” She says quickly, trying to feign uninterest. “Unless we have chocolate chips.”

“We have chocolate chips. And marshmallow fluff.”

“Then I guess I’ll have one.”

“Thank you. I’ll leave some money so you can get one of those fancy coffees from the place near your school. Will you pick a movie for us to watch today?”

“You’re coming home?”

“I should be here by 6…7 at the latest.”

“Oh. Okay,” She says, feigning disinterest.

“That’s all I get? An oh okay? Maybe I should tell Mr. Bateman I can work late.”

“No! You’re never home, c’mon don’t do that.”

“I’m excited to hang out with you too,” You say teasingly, leaning over to rest your head on her shoulder. Surprisingly, she lets you stay there.

“Can I make brownies?”

“As long as you let Emma help.”

“Of course I’ll let her help.”

“You have to be patient with her,” You remind her gently.

“I know, I know. Like you were with me,” She whispers thoughtfully. Sometimes you don’t think you give her enough credit.

“I love you Phillipa. You’re her big sister you know? I’m gone so much trying to make everything work here. She’s looking up to you. She thinks you’re the coolest person in the world.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.”

“Can I make her yogurt bowl and you make mine?”

“Sure, sweet girl. Let’s go.”

—

Nathan has never described himself as antsy. Impatient maybe, against delayed gratification sure. Antsy brings a connotation he’s not used to— nerves, a power struggle he’s on the losing side of, and lack of confidence. And while all of that feels true right now he still doesn’t want to admit it. He’s sitting at his desk, waiting for you to get in. His brow is sweaty because he’s been pacing back and forth, changing his mind about where he should be.

Eager to see you, he’d started in your office which is based in one of his many labs. It only took 10 minutes of him pacing in there to think that he was coming on too strong. It led him to the living room, but after sitting for a few minutes lounging at 6:30 in the morning when you were clocking in felt like it would be a slap in the face. He tried the patio, the kitchen, and eventually ended up back in his office.

He’d felt a little good about himself, the fact that he was thinking about this in a way that doesn’t just involve him and his desires. It was one of the reasons he’d realized what was happening to him. He’s doing his best at balancing his protective shell and showing you what he could be. What the two of you could be together.

Nathan loses his breath when you first come up on the camera, walking into your office. He’s always thought you were beautiful but today it seems like you tried to be. That could be his wishful thinking. Either way, he can’t take his eyes off you. You’re wearing a skirt he’s never seen before. A little shorter, a little pleated. It has his mind wandering off to places it shouldn’t, but it’s not like it hasn’t before. He can’t wait to get in the shower long after you left, and imagine what it would feel like to slip you out of it.

He stares…and stares…and stares until he realizes that an hour and half has gone by and he’s done nothing but give himself blue balls while watching you type away on your computer. Fuck, he’s completely at your mercy.

He pings you. Maybe that’ll make it worse, having you right in front of him like this. But, he needs to see you to scratch whatever itch this is in him today. There’s work too, a few things he needs to give to you to file away or mail out.

“Good morning, Mr. Bateman.”

He usually likes it when you call him that— especially when he’s imagining you say it while he runs his hands all over your body, all dirty and forbidden. Today is different. Something about it makes him shift uncomfortably in his seat. With dinner today, his first real shot at trying to know you as something other than his employee. As an outsider like everyone else.

“Would it kill you to call me Nathan?” He asks, raising a brow though his mouth is a little pouty.

It takes everything in you not to laugh. He looks ridiculous when he’s disgruntled. “That would be unprofessional, sir. Are those for me?”

“Yeah, they’re for you. We still on for dinner?”

The words make your stomach flip. Not because you don’t want to, but because you do. Because words like that aren’t supposed to come out of your boss’ mouth. They’re too casual, too much like the one’s men you used to swipe through on your phone said.

“Yes, I’m still able to have dinner with you, sir. Am I able to leave early?” You ask, reaching for the stack of files.

“You can leave whenever you want.”

Your mouth pulls up into a half-smile, and you nod. “Thank you, Mr. Bateman.”

Nathan leaves you be for the rest of the day. He doesn’t want to come on too strong, or be too clingy, something he’s never worried about before. He spends most of the day with the chef, yelling at him that he’s making everything all wrong— too salty or sweet or slimy or acidic— until it’s perfect. He needs it to be perfect. And once it is, he appears in the doorway of the lab your office is in, calling out to you in an uncharacteristically soft manner.

You inhale softly as you two make your way to the kitchen, the smell of familiar herbs and spices in the air. “Italian?”

“Compiled some data— this seemed like the smartest choice.”

“Compiled some data? On me?”

“I compile data on everyone. I need to learn.”

“What could you possibly have to learn about me?”

“Everything. You’re really fucking secretive.”

“I’m not secretive, I’m private,” You reason.

Nathan snorts, looking at you with an expression of disbelief, “You have to realize that those things are the same.”

“They’re not,” You counter before thinking better of it.

This is why you were quiet and avoided him as much as possible— Philippa isn’t the only one in your family with a streak of defiance. Denying authority runs in your blood, it has taken you years to quell it.

“They are if somebody’s trying to get to know you.”

“And that’s what you’re doing, Mr. Bateman? Trying to get to know me?”

He shrugs, feeling a little too unsettled— a little too nervous to reveal his intentions so early on.

“What did you learn with this data you compiled on me?”

“That you like noodle dishes of all kinds, but preferably Italian. And chocolate.”

There are two places settings sat at the corner of the table, a few bowls of various pastas, salads and breads. Dinner is surprisingly calm. He asks you simple, noninvasive questions about your past. He knows where you went to school and what past jobs you’ve had, but he asks you how you felt about them, if you made friends. He asks for your favorite movies and bands, supplying his own when you ask the same questions. It’s the most benign conversation you’ve ever had with him and it feels…good.

He surprises you when he says, “This. Again. Maybe next week?”

Your mouth goes flat with confusion, “You want to have dinner with me again, sir?”

“Nathan,” He suggests, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

You stare at him for a moment, eyes narrowing. “If this is some sort of joke, I don’t appreciate it, Nathan.”

Sweet, sweet music to his ears. Even with the attitude in your voice, Nathan drinks in every drop of his name on your tongue. In fact, he thinks the edge makes it better— it makes his blood hot. It makes him want you.

He leans closer, peering at you from over his glasses. “I’m an asshole and a clown, a shitty combination but what I’m not is an idiot, sweetheart. I wouldn’t joke about this,” His face is earnest as he speaks.

But, what does that even mean when it comes to him? You’re not completely sure. What’s worse is that you don’t know if your stomach is flipping at the idea of him telling the truth or disappointment that he may not be. The latter is what scares you most. When did you start to care about him like that?

“You— are you— you’re— you want to date me?”

Nathan bites his tongue for several seconds. He can’t say that he wants to do more than date you. He wants to consume you, to worship you, to spread you across this table and drink from between your legs until you whine and beg him for mercy. He can’t do any of that— not yet at least.

He settles for, “Yes.”

With his affirmative response, with nowhere to hide you look down at your empty plate, trying to process what’s happening. If this is true and he wants to date you, was this your first date? First dates are consensual, and while you had agreed to this dinner with him you hadn’t even been aware of your feelings at the time. Surely you couldn’t date your boss. It’s the total opposite of what you’d been trying to do— keep a low radar and be as competent and professional as possible to keep your family on the right path. You wouldn't jeopardize that for the hot, broad, bearded man sitting in front of you, even if he was looking at you with those gooey brown eyes. How long had you pretended you didn’t see him? How wide he is, how his shirts cling to his shoulders and chest, how sometimes when he comes straight to the lab after boxing his pheromones have you wanting to rut against him like an animal in heat.

You inhale a sharp breath, horrified and surprised by the thoughts racing through your head. It’s like he had unlocked a vault of vulgarities.

Finally, you look at him, apologetic, “Nathan…I can’t. I can’t do something that.”

Nathan notices right away that you didn’t deny feeling anything, and for now that’s enough. It’s an in. And if he’s not mistaken he hears a breathiness in your tone, hunger in your eyes.

“Why?”

“You’re my boss,” You say simply. It seems rather straightforward but Nathan frowns at you in confusion. For a man with such a big brain he could miss the mark sometimes. It would be endearing if it didn’t drive you a little nuts. Okay, maybe it’s both.

“What’s that gotta do with anything?”

“If it went poorly—“

“You think I would fire you over my ego?”

“Quite frankly, yes. I’ve seen how you treat people.”

“I wouldn’t do that to you,” He insists firmly. He knows it’s true, he just had to convince you.

“How would you know?”

“Because I know.”

“And if I say that’s not good enough? My entire family is dependent on me. On the money I make. I can’t and won’t put that at risk.”

Nathan scoffs, “There is no risk. I’m sure.”

“What if I’m not sure?”

“What’s that gotta do with how I feel?”

“Everything.”

“Nothing. It’s got nothing to do with how I feel, wanna know why? Because I put my ass on the line asking you here, not knowing how the fuck you feel about me. You’re the most elusive, sweet, competent…fucking arousing woman I’ve ever met. I’m spoken for.”

“Prove it,” You challenge.

This time he’s sure. He can hear how winded you sound and he knows that he’s affecting you. He wants to clear the table, crawl across and fuck you until neither of you can think. He’s getting ahead of himself.

“Prove it?”

“A trial of you showing me that all of what you said is true. We can spend more time together, but no commitments, and if it doesn’t work out I keep my job.”

“You sure? You’re gonna fall in love with me,” He warns, his grin mischievous.

“And you’re gonna have to work for it. Have you ever had to court a woman, Mr. Bateman?”

“No, sounds like I’ve got a lot of research to do. I’m a fast learner.”

“That you are.”

“Do you want to know your choices for dessert?”

“There’s choices?”

“Four.”

You grow thoughtful for a moment, before saying, “All of them. Bring me all of them.”

He can’t help the smile that spreads across his face— if he wasn’t in love with you already he is now. You allow yourself to look at him, to really look at him. And like this, his teeth white and shiny, eyes crinkled in the corners, warm brown eyes he looks sweet. Lovable. Like he could one day be yours. You won’t get your hopes up, not yet.

—

Nathan walks you to your car. It’s strange, much sweeter than you anticipating him being, but you did tell he had to work for it. You unlock the car with your remote and he gets your door. He ushers you in. He takes your hand and kisses it, his full beard tickling your skin in a way that makes your thoughts go hot and filthy.

“Drive safe for fucks sake.”

“Aren’t you a charmer?” You murmur in that soft little voice.

Nathan raises a brow at you as he leans against the car. “Are you sassing your boss?”

“No. I’m sassing the man that claims he wants to pursue me.”

“I hate to break it to you, but those are the same man, sweetheart,” He teases with a grin.

“Not if he’s gonna get it together, and prove it.”

“Touché. Let me know when you get home?”

“Keeping tabs on me already?”

“I— I always wonder,” He admits softly, and as you peer at him, you notice a soft flush in his cheeks.

He’s going to be the death of you, isn’t he? Getting all soft and sweet and flustered. You want to grab him by the collar and kiss him until his chest heaves with arousal and he cums in his pants. Instead you say: “I’ll let you know.”

“Good,” He takes a step away from the car, trying his best not to show how pleased he is with your agreement.

He feels like a walking raw nerve. You hold his future in your hands— his happiness, his sanity. It’s unhealthy and scary, how much control you have over him. But this time, he knows that the person is worthy. You’re worth any pain you could cause him, and that’s solidified by the way you grin up at him. It’s the brightest thing he’s ever seen. You looking at him like this, your saccharine smile, eyes full of mirth has his brain liquifying.

He grits his teeth at the way you’ve turned him into some Shakespearean loser. He could wax day in and day out about you. Write lines upon lines of code that would program nothing but his feelings for you. It’s stupidly perfect. He wants this with no one else. There is just you. Part of him is convinced that it’s always been you. He’s been on trajectory, making his way to you with every single decision. Fuck Bluebook. Fuck robots and their fake brains and gangly synthetic limbs. Fuck his data. Fuck all of his accomplishments. There’s just you.

“See you tomorrow, Nathan.”

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