#manipulation //

[im-a-loaf]

@ghostertoasted

there's a fine line between being wary of manipulation and becoming completely paranoid because you get very close to the realisation that pretty much all human interaction involves doing things we hope will lead to a result we like

[emberphoenixisgoingtolive]

rewatching camp cretaceous season 5 and creating a list of all the manipulative things daniel kon does

DISCLAIMER: many of these behaviours are not manipulative on their own, but the intent behind them is very important to evaluate

gives the Nublar Six sudden luxury (the investor's suite) to gain their trust and make them feel indepted to them

focuses on work and cleaning up kask's mess over listening to what happened to Kenji on a literal murderous dinosaur island, then insists that it's all for the best

uses one example of a carnivorous predator dinosaur lurching at Kenji to justify why all dinosaurs are mindless killers, preying on the fact that Kenji is already traumatised from being hurt by dinosaurs

tells Sammy he's helping her family's ranch to gain her trust, and then forces her and Brooklynn to keep it a secret - already starting to drive a wedge between them and the others

tells his son how proud he is of him, just knowing that the praise will make Kenji do whatever he says (and whatever daniel wants to do to him)

forces Mae to work with kash by threatening to harm the Nublar Six, including his son (the line was "things might not go so well for all those kids" - all)

daniels ENTIRE presence makes Kenji miserable instantly - you can visibly see his smile fall when he notices his dad anywhere

gives Kenji a task to do (organising the cocktail party for the investors) so Kenji feels useful and obligated to earn his dad's praise - again, basing his worth on how useful he is. this also drives a wedge between Kenji and Brooklynn because daniel won't let Brooklynn help

forces Mae - the only one out of her, kash and daniel - to get rid of the kids, knowing she'll have to lie to them and make up something and just make her feel really shitty, while also aiming an active brad-x at them so Mae knows exactly what will happen if she fails

insists to the Nublar Six that he's on an opposing side to kash and is trying to clear up kash's mess, but works with him behind their backs and makes it clear he intends to reward kash's work

gives Kenji just enough praise and validation over the cocktail party and encouragement to go on his date with Brooklynn to keep him on daniel's side so he can keep having a good, obedient puppet of a son who can be useful to him

tells Kenji that, "if she's the right person, just showing up is all that matters" and then makes Brooklynn late on purpose, just to drive a further wedge between Kenji and the others (isolating him from people who care about him is a classic manipulation tactic)

arrives with cake to Kenji's date, knowing full fucking well that he held back her, Darius and Ben on purpose, then lied to him, saying that he saw her "having fun" with them, and casually suggests that she forgot about him. instead of Kenji saying "Brooklynn would never do that," he very hesitantly and sadly asks "you think so"

and THEN, daniel backtracks completely (to deliberately confuse Kenji) and says "i'm sure something just came up" knowing that Brooklynn wouldn't be able to tell Kenji she was investigating him and she'd have to lie to Kenji, further lengthening the divide between Kenji and the others

AND THEN uses Kenji's sadness from perceived rejection of Brooklynn's date to give him acceptance from other people so Kenji trusts them (and daniel) more

is nice to him at the cocktail party to further get Kenji on his side, having bragged about Kenji but in a way that paints him as more of a conqueror of dinosaurs rather than having survived them ("your father's been bragging about how you've bested the worst of these dinos")

by the time the others find Kenji, he's at the cocktail party with his father, looking and acting like one of his father's investors. daniel deliberately leans into Kenji's tendency towards bragging - i would bet he goaded Kenji into bringing out those sides of him, since his bragginess isn't something we've seen for a while in the show. so that when the other camp fam inevitably find him (daniel probably knew they would sneak up to the party) they'd see Kenji reverting back to his old ways, getting all close with his dad, and know that Kenji wouldn't believe whatever the camp fam could say about his father

daniel keeps Kenji close, knowing that the others of the camp fam would hesitate to bring up anything bad about him

convinces Kenji that controlling the dinosaurs is good for getting the investors' money (despite daniel only wanting to control the dinosaurs) by deliberately leaning into Kenji's love for the dinosaurs and convincing him that the dinosaurs wouldn't last if there was no one to care for them (which... might be true, but it could be daniel playing into the hero/saviour mindset that he's the one to protect the dinosaurs from their "savage" ways and keep them safe)

lies to Kenji about how he got Mae to work with him (since he knows Kenji trusts Mae, and it would've made it easier for Kenji to trust him if an adult figure he already trusts agrees with his dad's standpoint)

offers for Kenji to work with him (reinforcing the only way for Kenji to be loved is for him to be useful to his dad and his business)

casually brings up Brooklynn and Sammy "breaking into" his office (using deliberately violent language to make them seem bad) and then acts all innocent ("they didn't tell you?" [surprised]) AND THEN follows it up with a subtle, offhand, "guess they don't trust either one of us that much"

refers to Kenji as "son" to reinforce the familial ties they have to each other so Kenji feels obligated to be loyal to him and worse about mistrusting or distancing himself from him (i've had this happen to me personally. it's a manipulation tactic)

rewards loyalty to Kenji with his approval to make Kenji crave it more, saying stuff like "he'll stand by my side in there" which makes Kenji feel like he has to be loyal to his father

makes a compromise about the dino fight, insisting he won't actually harm the dinosaurs, just to get Kenji on his side more

puts Kenji in a position where it seems to the other camp fam like Kenji is just standing there and watching the dino fights happen (further driving the wedge between Kenji and the others)

INCOMPLETE LIST im on like episode 4 of season 5 bro

[corrodedaphroditus]

I love the idea that Bill’s manipulation tactics are horribly obvious but Ford is so socially inept that it works on him perfectly

“He was a masterful manipulator.”

No bestie he was just nice to you and you folded like a house of cards

[stalkerr-daddy]

As you lay there innocently sleeping, I begin losing myself in the perverted thoughts filling my head as I watch you sleep sweetly. Temptation starts to consume me the more I entertain those thoughts, until my body can’t take it anymore, I need to feel you. I gently lift up your shirt above your tits, softly licking them while I grope you, often checking to make sure I’m not waking you. As my thoughts get even more desperate I softly pull down your panties inch by inch, I start rubbing you, making you wet for me, sticking one finger inside of you. I begin licking you gently while i finger fuck your sleeping body. Making you moan out the sweetest little sounds as you start clenching around my fingers, making an even bigger mess for me to lick off of you. I stick more fingers inside of you, slightly picking up the pace as I feel you twitching and cumming around my fingers. Sucking your mess off of my finger I leave you to wake up to a sloppy, sticky wet pussy wondering what happened last night. When you ask me in the morning I make fun of you, telling you that you must’ve had a good dream last night because you couldn’t stop squirming around. Completely gaslighting you, knowing exactly what I did to your unconscious little body without your knowledge

[liberalsarecool]

Conservatives create a false reality to support white supremacy.

Do not normalize their lies. Call them out.

[lijojo]

genshin sugar daddies

premise: you have seven sugar daddies: one for every day of the week. a bit overwhelming, right? however, you somehow find ways to make time for each and every one of them, no matter how emotionally and physically demanding they are. it's just that, now they don't seem too keen on sharing, and you don't know what to do. (modern au)

tw: nsfw, dark content - minors dni

mondays are always harder in more ways than one. mondays are diluc's days, and that means that you're spending a good portion of your nights at angel's share.

on mondays, it's happy hour. which means that you're sitting at a booth in the corner looking pretty while diluc is tending to his customers. you're more than happy to sit back and relax while you wait for him to finish with work. when the drinks are on the house, you're willing to wait as long as it'll take.

periodically, when he's not busy, however, he'll walk over to you and engage in conversation. you act as a taste-tester for new drinks so he's always asking you if you like them. you two will talk about your day, any interesting events, and so on until diluc is pulled back into work again.

then you're back to fiddling your fingers and watching him work. over time, you've learned that he preferred that you not do anything while you were supposed to be with him. that instead, you fixated your gaze on him while he moved about. sometimes you'll catch him looking at you to see if your eyes are still on him.

even while he's dealing with a certain tone-deaf bard, there's something about the way he looks at you so intently that reminds you of a predator.

when angel's share closes, you're there to keep him company while he cleans up. when he's done, he'll sweep you away back to his manor.

you'll fall onto the sheets as he grinds against you. his shallow breaths brush against your throat. the look he gives you is nothing short of intense.

"everyone at the tavern was looking at you, you know," he mutters, running his fingers down your chest, sinking into your pants. he pulls them down effortlessly along with your panties. "didn't you feel it, darling? their filthy eyes on you. they want to ruin you. everyone wants to ruin you."

he throws your legs over his shoulders, his fingers crawling up your thighs. you jump when he suddenly inserts two fingers into your cunt, scissoring you. his free arm wraps around your leg to keep you locked against him. his eyes are glued onto you as he presses a kiss against your calf.

"but your eyes were on me all night, weren't they. couldn't take your eyes off me, could you. you're mine, dear. do you hear me? you're mine."

you don't overlook how tight his grip is. tight enough to make you wonder if he'll ever let you go. in the morning, he does, but you're scared for the day he wakes up and decides that it's for the last time.

tuesdays aren't as bad. when you’re sore from the night before, childe is there to take you out to meals, shopping, and sightseeing. he's not always available to spend time with you on tuesdays, because of his equally-demanding job and whatnot, but when he is free, he never wastes a second.

or a dollar.

childe smirks smugly from his sea. his posture is lax, one hand lazily tracing circles on the chair's arm while the other comes up to rest under his chin.

"how about you twirl for me, girlie? you look so beautiful."

you giggle, observing yourself in the mirror. "why thank you."

you bask in the way the soft satin kisses your skin. the way your newly-own earrings sparkle under the dressing room's light. just a couple years ago, you could've only dreamed of being dressed so prettily.

"do your side-bitches ever treat you as well as me?"

"childe!" you chide.

he laughs, getting up from his seat. but you both know better than to believe his little chuckle is genuine.

he approaches you, sliding his hands around your waist. tucking your head under his chin, he stares at you through the mirror's reflection.

you don't say anything, and childe doesn't either. it appears he's more than happy to enjoy just standing there. his gaze is glossed over, far away.

the two of you sway side to side for what seems like forever until he decides to say something.

"do they buy you pretty things like i do?"

of course they do, you think. although you spend one-on-one time with each and every one of them, they are all aware of each other. it's only right that they did. it was the first thing you said when you brought the idea up to them, that it wasn't going to be exclusive.

but when you see the way he looks at you, you can't really tell him the truth. not when his focus is redirected from his thoughts to you.

"the things you buy me are a special kind of pretty," you reply.

it seems like that answer is enough for him, because he doesn't say anything else. instead he hums quietly, letting the vibration ripple in the back of your head. he slides his hands down your hips and before you can say anything else, he whips his head around.

"i'll buy these sets." he motions over to the closest clothes rack to an attendant you hadn't noticed. "and that one. and the dress she's wearing. how many colors does this come in, by the way?"

the attendant doesn't hesitate. "five colors, sir. they come in bla—"

"great." he shuffles through his pocket to pull out a black card. "pack them up, we won't be here any longer," he retorts.

the attendant looks ecstatic, quickly shuffling out of the dressing rooms towards the cash register with newfound glee.

"childe," you whine. "i don't think these will fit in my closet."

his hands crawl lower, his finger hovering over your clit. "then they'll fit in mine. come over any time of the week when you want to wear one of my special pretty things."

your breath hitches as he rubs slow circles on your clit. he pushes the two of you back into the dressing room and closes the curtains.

"what are you doing, she'll be back any second—"

he kisses the corner of your jaw, pressing his lips close to your ear. "no worries. if there's one thing i'm sure about, it's that no one undresses you faster than i do."

wednesday is when usually everything calms down. kazuha will typically invite you to a new park, scenic route, or gallery. together, you'll write haikus, sonnets, and limericks together. some hours you'll just sit in silence, putting pen to paper. and when the sun goes down you'll exchange poetry.

out of the seven men, kazuha probably scares you the most. he was the first person you decided to do this whole ordeal with, after all. and since he's known you the longest, he also knows about your circumstances more than others. maybe that's why he's so focused on treating you as if you were a fragile cherry blossom petal. his touches feel like ghosts, running down your forearm as he presses a kiss to the apple of your cheek.

in exchange for his protection, his money, and his care, you give him honeyed words. you act as his muse for when he's hit a creative block. you're there to listen to him read out verses when the wind can't bear the strength to carry them. you listen to his grief about his best friend, his loneliness when he was forced to leave his home country. as someone many of the locals looked to for wisdom, he too carried the emotional burdens of being someone's rock. emotional burdens that he let onto you (whether purposefully or not, you're unsure). but you listen anyway, hearing him talk about days of poverty, where sometimes he had to worry about things to eat, or how to get proper healthcare.

you can't lie and say you're always stable enough to hear some of the things he has to say, but you try.

even if you sometimes feel like you can't take it, you just smile and squeeze his hand tighter like you're supposed to. sometimes your mind will go on autopilot, and sometimes you'll stand up on the grounds of needing to go to the bathroom. but at the end of the day, this is what you signed up for. this. making men happy so that you yourself won't have to worry about your endless debt.

you peer over your notebook to see kazuha immersed in his own writing. but instead of his usual peaceful expression, he looks somber. his hands won't leave the paper, his eyes glued onto the words that he's drawn onto the pages.

"what's got you so worked up?" you ask curiously. "is it something new?"

it's like your voice snaps him out of his trance. he blinks, looking up at you. there's a smile you know all too well on his lips. "yeah, i suppose you could call it that."

"could i look at it? i want to see what's got you so focused like that."

his lips press into a straight line. "hmmm, maybe later."

his words catch you off-guard. usually he's the one who's eager to share his work, regardless of the quality. "oh? is it something you want to keep secret?"

he doesn't many any hint of an answer. instead, he puts down his pen and stares at the ground in contemplation. he's picking and choosing what words to say.

"i could protect you," he says, shuffling his papers to the side. you turn to him, curious. his expression slowly hardens. "by myself, i mean. i could take care of you."

"kazu—"

"i have the means to make a living for the both of us. i could sell more of my poetry, i know they'll sell well—"

"where is this coming from?" you move closer to him, brushing his hair aside. "kazu, are you worried about something?"

there's something that's stopping him from saying anything. his fingers intertwine with yours, his thumb caressing the back of your hand.

he purses his lips, before turning away and sighing. "no, not really."

after that, he doesn't say anything else. the two of you bask in silence once again. even though you're used to the quiet, there's something deep down in you that feels nervous. like something in the atmosphere changed. there's a sudden resolved glint in his eye as he get backs to writing so diligently on a piece of paper he won't let you read.

after all these days spent talking about himself, somehow you're scared for the day he suddenly decides to stop.

on thursdays you're usually at tighnari's greenhouse, watching him take notes of other plants while you twiddle your thumbs. once in a while, he'll begin rambling about the plants—what kind of species they are, how rare, their medicinal properties, and the like.

you're more of a companion, than anything. someone who can make his days a little less lonelier. and you appreciate it. it's much more tranquil with him. you can enjoy his sharp quips, especially when cyno comes to visit.

his sex-drive is relatively normal, if not a little below average. just like wednesday, you also expect thursday to be a typical rest day.

except when spring comes.

when spring comes, your routine get a little wonky. for one week, at least. because that's when tighnari's heat hits him like a fucking monsoon.

you can already tell when it's coming when he begins to hover closer to you. whenever you take your hand out to do anything, even the slightest gesture, he's already taking it and dragging it towards his sensitive ears.

the moment you've made your plans set to 'take the week off' and help him out, he's already on you, face pressed into your neck as if it's his oasis.

as you can tell, he takes this week very seriously.

"i bet—shit—those other fucks don't get to hold you as long as i do," he lets out as he fucks into you like there's no tomorrow. his hands hold onto your waist like he owns it, pressing sloppy kisses down your spine. "looking so pretty for me. i wonder what they'd say if you got pregnant with my babies. you'd be so much more beautiful plump with my kids. is that what you want huh? to make them angry with my cum stuffed in your gorgeous pussy?"

some days you almost can't believe how uncharacteristically aggressive he is. he dicks you down like he's trying to imprint his shape into the core of your body so that none of the others can fit inside.

and when he cums, he'll take whatever unfortunate portions slip out and smear it all over your chest. especially where your heart is.

then the process starts all over again.

when it's over, he'll spoon you. as if he didn't almost fuck you to death. his touch is tender, like a ghost's hovering over your skin.

"why won't you leave them all for me?"

you shift a little to look at him and kiss him softy, sweetly, on the line of his jaw. "oh, nari, you know i can't."

his ears droop at your words. "you can't, or you won't."

his words make you freeze a bit.

you think back to last week, and the week before, and the one before that. you think about why you started selling your services in the first place, the endless debt you used to be in, and the progression of the relationship between all seven of your...contacts. even if you wanted to, you don't think you could back out if you tried. you've dug a hole for yourself. one deep enough to cause some sort of disruption if you ever decided to stop digging.

so you just hum. "you know how much i love routine."

as some sort of apology, you give him and open-mouthed kiss, one he's almost desperate to return. he moans, hands cupping your face to bring you closer to him.

you're well unaware how much your words have an impact him.

at the end of the week, all al-haitham wants to do is unwind. it's the only logical thing to do. no late-night drinks with the colleagues, no stressful trips to some tourist trap. on fridays, al-haitham comes home to a meal made with love.

when al-haitham's at work during the day, you're usually running your actual errands. it's when you have time to make those one-in-a-blue-moon visits to your actual home, although it's getting harder to call it that.

when it gets to the late-afternoon, you'll usually head to al-haitham's place to start cooking. if you didn't know how to cook before, you do now. every ingredient is handled with care, measured meticulously just as you knew he preferred.

and when he gets home, tired and stressed out, you're there to welcome him with a chaste kiss on the cheek.

during dinner, sometimes he'll talk to you about work or the latest research he'd gotten himself immersed with. in return, you tell him about some of your childhood memories. your likes, your dislikes, what used to be your hobbies. you do your best to keep your personal matters out of the conversation, no matter how many times he tries to pry into your private life.

sometimes dinners feel like a full on investigation, the way he keeps greeding for more information about you. he watches you eat with calculating eyes. you pretend to pay no mind to it.

in the beginning, kaveh used to join you for dinners. you always liked the guy, the way he bickered with al-haitham and riled him up. but now you've begun to see less of him, as if he never comes home on fridays at all.

after dinner, there are two different outcomes depending on his mood:

outcome one is that you'll spend the rest of the night curling up on his couch, the both of you immersed in your own books. al-haitham leans on your shoulder as he flips through the pages as if they're nothing. you can't help but feel ticklish whenever his hair brushes against your jaw.

somewhere in the middle, he'll move one hand to start fidgeting with the end of your shirt, sometimes crawling underneath to caress your sides.

outcome two is less quiet. the moment he gets home with that solemn face, you know it's coming. his voice is huskier, his responses shorter. it's usually a result of an impending deadline, colleagues being more peskier than usual.

the moment you two are done with dishes, he gingerly takes your hand and leads you up to the bedroom.

his kisses tastes like green tea and dinner. his hands run up and down your torso, trying to imprint the feel of your skin into every inch of your brain. you whimper when his thumbs press softly into your nipples, rolling them around as they harden.

your hands find purchase on his collar, tugging him impossibly close. he groans at the contact.

you let out a yelp when your back suddenly falls onto the bed. your hands are pressed onto the sheets, al-haitham's fingers encircling your wrists. his knee nudges your legs further apart, rubbing at your clit.

"don't look at the ceiling, dear, look at me," he breathes out, his hands leaving your nipples to gently guide your face towards. "that's it. good girl. just me. just look at me. only me."

he smiles.

"now, let me do god's work on your divine body."

saturdays with ayato can sometimes get hectic. some saturdays you're out getting bubble tea together and enjoying the city, and other saturdays you're hurrying to some publicitiy event hosted by the kamisato clan.

on those type of days, you can expect to wear gowns layered with shiny nylon tulle fabric. it's not as revealing as what you'd try on in dressing rooms with childe. in fact, it's a bit more modest.

today you're wearing a light-blue gown to match with ayato. you turn around to get a good look at the cute bow attached at your waist, your diamond encrusted earrings swaying along with you.

it's as if you've put on another costume. another front to wear for the night.

ayato enters the room just shortly after. in his hands is a diamond necklace to match with your stunning earrings. small smile falls upon his lips when he clasps it on.

"you're beautiful," he mumbles. you giggle when he kisses you square on the lips, licking away the tinted color.

"ayato," you press in-between kisses. you place a hand on his chest to gently push him away. "you're going to ruin my lipstick."

he pulls away with a cheeky smile, taking your wrists to wrap around his neck. "you can always put on some more later."

you pout but kiss him regardless. he tightens his hold on you in reaction, moaning into your mouth.

at these kinds of events, you're there as his plus-one. just so that other officials could stop introducing girls to him when he clearly wasn't interested in them. it'd be arguable to say that you might even be there to make the events a little less intolerable.

somewhere along the lines, you'd sleep with him in addition to being his arm candy at parties. sometimes even before: you two rushing to put on your formal attires and fix your hair minutes before the event started.

but beyond that, you started to get to know him better. he'd whisper into your ear about funny stories relating to the guests as you meet them. sometimes you'd run away in the middle of the party to binge out on the food and talk about your other interests. surprisingly, he doesn't talk about the politics behind his duties as the head of the kamisato family. not as much as you expected, at least.

instead he talks about his dreams for a family. how many kids, what their names would be, how he'd raise them. and as he talked, he'd give you this heavy gaze that you're not sure what to do with. as if he was expecting something from you.

you're beginning to believe that ayato has somehow confused contractual girlfriend with actual girlfriend.

when you had met ayaka months ago, ayato introduced you as his girlfriend. you didn't attempt to correct him—that's ayato's business. not your's. but when you're expecting ayato to come clean to his dearest sister, you're sorely mistaken.

instead, while he kisses your lips so hungrily, he subtly slips a diamond ring onto your finger.

sundays are usually kaeya's days off. although the cavalry captain's duties are seemingly never endless, he takes the day off to take a breather.

in other words, he sees you.

at first, it was just candlelit dinners. he'd walk in with a bouquet of roses, complimenting your dress and staring at you as if he was undressing you with his eyes. he'd take you to somewhere fancy, pull out the chair for you and sweet-talk you all through the night.

conversations were fun with him. you didn't have to think much at all, not about how to pay the bills, the six men in your life who seemingly began to want yours to only revolve around theirs, or being someone your not.

kaeya was probably the only one who you felt you could be comfortable with. he made you laugh, he'd tell all sorts of interesting stories, and he never made the silence feel awkward.

at least, that's how you used to be.

you see, usually after these candlelit dinners you'd both go back to his place, with him ripping off your clothes the moment the door closed. but as of recently, he's been asking to come over to your place instead more often. almost too often.

and that's not the only thing that's changed.

the sex used to be rough. heated. almost as if he was consumed by all of his pent-up sexual frustration and was only focused on getting off. he'd slurp your cunt like a man starved but he'd still rail you as if that's the only thing he cared about.

but as time passed, he's been getting more and more...sensual. the sex is much more slower. personal, almost.

vulnerable.

after dinner, he slowly slips off your clothing. one article after another, until your left in your underwear. he first kisses you on the mouth, then your neck, then your chest, then your stomach. slowly, he makes a trail of them down your body, as if no skin deserved to be left untouched.

although you made a rule that no one could leave your marks on you, it doesn't mean he doesn't try. as he kisses your lower lips, sometimes he'll attempt to leave marks close to your clit. if you're not careful, diluc will find it tomorrow.

his thrusts were always deep, but now that he's much more purposeful about it. it's rhythmic, as if he's trying to reach a new spot inside you. somewhere no one's touched.

the pillow-talks are much more longer as well. he holds you tighter now, wrapping his arms around your hips as he tangles his legs with yours.

instead of ranting on about the silly incidents he witnessed on the job earlier in the week, he talks about his feelings. towards you. towards diluc. towards himself. some nights you can handle it, some nights are too much.

but you can't say anything. not when he's holding onto you like you’re his lifeline. not when he helps you pay off your debt. and so you let his raspy voice whisper in your ear as he combs his fingers through your hair. you listen to him mumble sweet-nothings.

you're not sure if you like the adoring look he gives you as you drift off to sleep.

[cctypical]

wait I just realised something…

seeing the room decorated this way made me think of eri from mha, not exact spoilers for that but this is really similar.

notice how the room is all light pink, love hearts and teddy bears. from Amanda’s design I wouldn’t expect her to have a pretty and pink style, of course this could just be how she likes her house or even resemble her things in real life but it kinda puts me off.

what if this is some form of coercion to make her deal with her situation? yeah give her all these nice and bright things that remind her of happiness and she’ll forget alllll about it she won’t even want to leave. hey look amanda we’re being nice to you we even gave you your own teddy aren’t we so nice? see it’s not even that bad when you’re surrounded by all this fun. ITS A GASLIGHTING ATTEMPT.

and while it may have “worked” at first (she was unaware of her situation and paid no mind to it) now she just doesn’t care. she doesn’t particularly dislike the pink she just don’t give a damn. and the teddy bear is some form of company, no matter if it’s fake, so that makes things a little better sometimes.

I think if Rebecca ever gets a chance at some sort of normal life again after the events of ata 3 she’ll completely avoid the colour pink from her room to avoid emotional triggers (and blue and yellow from the kitchen etc)

…hameln when I catch you hameln

Ok I was watching a group playing ATA 2 and one of them noted that the way Amanda’s room is designed kind of looks like a prison cell…

Oh my GOD

[angelyuji]

yandere mark grayson

might be a little ooc lowkey... sorry.

tw // stalking, nolan is an enabler, yandere behavior, emotional manipulation, honestly nothing too crazy compared to what ive written in the past

mark grayson x reader

im gonna talk mostly about story mark and not the variants but ill add a couple cutesy little remarks at the end

markie poo is very intense as a yandere, not in the kidnapping sort of sense but like emotionally

you’d probably meet him in college and start off as friends

he’s def the type to fall in love at first sight tho like he sees you and its like some angelic light bathed you

he was in awe

he def uses his powers to stalk you and figure out everything about you

william lowkey encourages it too cause…. he seems like the type to stalk his crushes (he’s a normal person so its like kinda a normal amount)

anyway he doesn’t really realize how he’s following you or watching you until someone points it out (eve) and he’s like “omg im so evil im so bad and evil and i should die”

and he confesses it to his parents cuz who knows better than him? mama y papa!!

“im so sorry, i know i shouldn’t use my powers to stalk (y/n). i know what im doing is wrong. i just like them… so so much.” mark buries his head in his hands, too ashamed to look at his parents.

he hears his mom sigh, “mark what you’ve been doing is-” she stops. mark looks up to see his dad whisper into her ear. she bites her lip before nodding. debbie pulls him into a hug before leaving the room to go upstairs. mark feels tears well up in his eyes, seeing the disappointment in his mom’s eyes.

“mark.” he looks over at his dad. “come here, son.” nolan pats the space next to him on the couch. mark hesitantly, moves to sit next to his father. “i sent your mother away because i needed to explain something to you. something she would never understand.” his father’s voice was low. mark swallows, trepidation building. “when i first met your mother, she had rejected me.” he sits back, “and i loved her more for it. everyday i would watch her, where she worked, where she lived, who she spent time with, everything, mark. i needed to know more about her, i wanted for her to be mine… i was-” nolan barks out a laugh, “i was willing to take her away from everything if she would’ve rejected me again.” he looks over at mark, “fortunately for all of us, your mom agreed for a date and now… here we are.” nolan smiles, wistfully. mark stays silent, processing everything. nolan pats his son on the knee, “what i’m trying to say, son, is that what you’re doing is normal. you are my son, of course you could love like i do.” nolan ruffles mark’s hair before standing up.

“but mom-”

“what your mother doesn’t know won’t hurt her, mark. and what (y/n) doesn’t know won’t hurt them.”

i made up that nolan did all that, but like…. who would be surprised if he actually did lol

anyway, nolan highkey made mark worse becuz why would u say all that, man… (i made him say it but that’s beside the point)

mark doesn’t even have his own place yet, so kidnapping is off the table and with papa nolan in space, he knows debbie won’t be down for him bringing back a gagged you lol

if ur single, he’ll just push and push and push until you’re like omg fine ill go on a date with you

he’ll do everything right just so you won’t think about not dating him

he doesn’t want to tell you that he’s invincible but if it means you’ll trust him to protect you, he’ll do tell u

he’s very very very overprotective

if you’re in danger… everybodys dying he does not gaf

if ur in a relationship, ur partner’s going missing… sorry to them but mark will swoop in while you’re grieving and then bam somehow you guys are dating

he would never hurt you, but he would hurt other people to get to you/make you realize you’ll never escape him

like father like son as they say

anyway some quickie thoughts about invincible war before we move on

the moment those unhinged freaks stepped foot into this universe, they’re gonna find you

similar to that moment in the show where the burned looking mark when home to fake-cry to kill debbie, smth like that except they show up and take you with them

anyway i have similar thoughts but mostly about omni-mark and the other freaked up mark #needthatbad

they’re sooo obsessed with u but its hard to give a generalized behavior headcanon cuz each of my freaks are so different

also before i go, i wanna go back to when i said he’s very emotionally intense

he’ll twist your words and make you feel bad for rejecting him/not listening to him

mark would def use his fears to make you do what he wants

“mark, i need to get to class.” you try to pull yourself out of his grasp, but his hands go back around your waist. the two of you lay naked next to each other in your dorm after he had come back from patrol, you can see his suit peeking out from under the bed as you try to pull yourself away once more.

“(y/n), please don’t go.” you turn to look at your boyfriend, he pouts as he pulls you closer. he buries his head into your chest and you feel your face get hot.

“mark, i have to go to class. i’ve already missed 3 lectures because of you.” you push yourself away and off the bed. you feel his hand clasp onto yours. “mark.” you frown and look back, annoyed, when you see his tears. “oh my god, mark,” you immediately fold, holding him close.

“i just… i’m sorry i know you have to go to class, but i was so worried with everything that’s happening. i had- i had a nightmare i lost you.” his voice was thick as he held back his tears. he presses his lips against yours, rough and needy. you let him; your heart heavy as you feel the weight on his shoulders. “i can’t lose you, (y/n). you’re my… you’re my everything, i can’t survive without you.” you let him kiss you once more, letting him pour his love into you. soon, you find yourself wrapped up in his touch. his lips against every part of you, his hands caressing your skin, his voice whispering sweetly into your ears. you missed your classes once more as mark held you tight. “i won’t survive without you, (y/n)…” his voice lulls you back to sleep, “and i won’t let you leave me.”

[creature-wizard]

When criticizing religion that promotes or claims some form of bigotry as a central belief, it's very important to remember that people who don't want to believe in god but want to be bigots will find new ways to frame and justify their bigotry.

For example, "women are more likely to be possessed by demons" easily turns into "women are more prone to mental illness that compromises their judgment."

"The gods decreed that these people would be our servants forever" easily turns into "these people never evolved intelligence like we did, and they need us to guide them and tell them what to do."

"You'll go to Hell if you do that!" easily turns into "This is what's destroying society! You're betraying everything your ancestors worked hard to create!"

"They worship evil gods! We have to convert them to our good and pure religion!" easily turns into "their culture is primitive and barbaric! We have to free them from these backward beliefs!"

Basically, remember that what you're criticizing is selfish, fearful, and manipulative behavior, which can and will emerge in any context; and that atheism is not a quick fix for systemic issues and deep-seated prejudices.

[luna-azzurra]

Manipulative Starters

"If you loved me, you’d do this."

"Everyone else thinks it’s a good idea, why don’t you?"

"I’m the only one who cares about you."

"Without me, you’d be nothing."

"You’re so lucky to have me."

"Nobody else would put up with you."

"I’m the best thing that ever happened to you."

"You owe me this."

"I sacrificed so much for you."

"Remember all those times I helped you?"

[moompl]

A visual parallel I have noticed throughout SW is the image of a Palpatine goading his new apprentice to kill a defenseless person. He does it with Dooku and Yaddle, Anakin and Dooku, and finally Luke and Darth Vader (Anakin). Each time he encourages them to do something that goes against their morals (killing a friend, a defenseless person, or their father) and the choice they make is telling to who they will become in the future. Luke is the person to break this cycle when he refuses to kill his father after seeing Vader’s mechanical hand. He looks to his own hand and realizes that to destroy his father is to become him. He holds fast to his ideals in the face of Palpatines attempts to change them. It’s a nice way to keep consistency with Palpatine’s character and form of manipulation.

[maevaniila]

One of my fav scenario of fiction 😩 The antagonist comforting the protag from a traumatic event that they created 🔥 UGH MANIPULATION ITS AWFUL I LOVE IT 😭🔥

The video is literally a redraw from a scene in Helluva Boss (S2 ep11) I LOVE THIS SCENE SO MUCH 🔥🔥🔥

[envy-of-the-apple]

older reader?? SAY NO MORE

you're a confident, popular, charismatic lady in your 30s. you catch a pretty, barely-not-teenage gojo at a bar about to get roofied and rescue him.

you're neither a paragon of moral virtues but apparently you do still have some maternal instincts because you take him aside, help him sober up, and give him a stern but well-meaning lecture about watching drinks, staying safe, etc. maybe he gets a headpat and a caring look while you do this.

that's where you thought this would end but to gojo had absent parents and is starved of all forms of affection, including maternal, so he absolutely cannot let this end here and he will exploit his prettiness, his pitifulness, AND your maternal instincts to the max.

if wires get crossed and he manages to get you to bang him (and hopefully feel so guilty about taking advantage that he can get you to stay with him) then even better!!

omgggggyou know me so well-

(Warnings: manipulation, guilt-tripping, large age gap but both characters are 21+, implied non/dubcon, implied drugging)

Dark!Gojo Satoru x reader

Bad Night

When you open your eyes, your head is pounding.

Last night is a blur, but you get the big picture. You drank too much, and you brought someone home.

He's a cuddler, pressing you against his bare chest, a long arm wrapped around your naked body. It'd be a cute way to wake up if you weren't so sweaty and already in a bad mood.

You're debating on how to kick him out when he shifts behind you. He yawns, one hand reaching up to draw circles on your waist.

"You wake up pretty early."

It's not a stranger's voice. You know him.

You turn your head, almost afraid to look. He gives a sleepy smile.

"...Satoru?"

"Mornin'." Taking advantage of your shock, he gives a quick peck on your lips.

It's a jumpstart for the memories of last night to kick in. Satoru had invited you out, you had a bad day at work and you took the offer, you took shot after shot, one thing lead after another and then-

Shit.

"What's wrong?" He asks, and you doubt you're managing to hide the horror off your face all that well. His usually carefree attitude melted into concern.

"Feeling' alright? I wasn't too rough last night, was I?"

When you open your mouth, the only thing that comes out is a strangled 'I'm fine'.

"That's good." He nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck. "I was worried I hurt you or somethin'. Last night was perfect, by the way. Everythin' I dreamed of, baby."

Baby. You want to throw up.

"Oh, you must be hungry." Satoru frowns, clicking his tongue. "Uh, wait here, I'll go whip somethin' up."

Another kiss, this time on your cheek, before he's sliding off your bed. He's naked. You squeeze your eyes closed when he starts to put on his pants. You keep them closed until the door shuts behind him.

What the fuck did you just do?

You know what you did. You just had sex with someone more than a decade younger than you. You can't even remember it, but the evidence was all around you. Your panties laying crumbled on the floor. The ache between your legs. The bitemarks on your chest, your legs.

You fucked up.

Satoru was by chance You weren't supposed to talk to him, let alone meet him. You were at the right place, at the right time. You happened to catch smug asshole putting something in the oblivious kid's drink. You happened to grab it right before Satoru could, before dumping it on the asshole's face.

Looking back, it wasn't your finest moment. You nearly got the police called on you, but ever since that day, Satoru clung onto you like Velcro. He didn't leave you alone for the rest of the night. You thought your lecture would have embarrassed him enough to leave, which kid wants to be scolded by a thirty-year old? If anything, that might have sparked his admiration for you.

He was determined. Before you knew it, Satoru was everywhere. He spammed you with texts everyday, when he couldn't call. He'd constantly invite you to places adults way past their college years should not be going. Despite your absolute refusal to visit his dorm, you found yourself reluctantly letting him into your house, picking him up from parties when he was too drunk to drive. He'd told you things he'd never told anyone before.

You knew what was happening, you weren't stupid. And unhealthy infatuation. Young, starved for attention, eager to please. You saw the signs, you tried to set boundaries, but you thought you could help him somehow. Your savior's complex grew too big...you thought you could help him.

And then, you ended up sleeping with him.

It wasn't illegal. You knew he was over 18, at the very least. You still feel nothing but nauseating disgust. When you looked down at your hands, they felt dirty.

You needed to fix this, somehow. You needed to tell Satoru that this was a mistake. Rip the band-aide off, nice and clean.

You ignore the crumbled clothes on the floor: your flimsy dress, Satoru's shirt. Instead, you go to the closet and pull out baggy pajama pants and an oversized sweatshirt. You needed to hide as much skin as possible. To preserve the remnants of dignity you had left.

You stayed in the bathroom for ten minutes, practicing what you were gonna say over and over again. I'm sorry, it was a mistake, I was drunk, I took advantage of you, it's not your fault. I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry.

When you step outside your sanctuary, you smell something that makes your stomach growl.

Satoru's standing over a sizzling pan with a smile on his face. He knows his way around your kitchen because he's been here before, doing homework on your countertops. You feel sick all over again.

"Hey." He pouts when you inch closer. "I told you to stay in bed, didn't I? Silly." He reaches over, pinching your cheek in affection.

You swallow and you finally manage to steel yourself.

"Satoru, we need to talk-"

"And done!" Satoru cheers, setting down a plate. "Hungry? You gotta' be, right? We did a whole workout last night." You cringe at his choice of words, wishing he'd stop mentioning your biggest blunder.

When you don't move, he picks up some food with his fork, hovering it close to your lips.

"C'mon. At least try it." He urges. "I promise it's good. Please?"

You look into his baby blue doe eyes. Wide and earnest and eager. When you accept the offering, he glows.

He feeds you like this, one forkful at a time. When you ask why he isn't eating, he just shakes his head.

"I don't think it'll stay down." He admits. "I'm so happy, it almost feels like I'm dreaming."

You clear your throat. Hopefully, you can steer this conversation into something more productive. "Satoru, about last night-"

"Did you like it?" He suddenly asks.

"What?"

"Last night." He says with a sheepish smile. "Did-did you like it? Was I any good?"

You stare at him, utterly bewildered. "I-"

"It was my first time!" He blurts out with clear impulsiveness, and your heart stops. "I-I was pretty nervous. 'Had no fuckin' idea what I was doing, but it looked like you liked it. Right?"

He looks at you with those wide eyes, filled with genuine sincerity and you want to throw yourself off a ledge because not only did you not remember having sex with him, you don't remember taking his virginity.

You were a horrible person.

"It...was a nice night." You mutter quietly.

He beams again, it does nothing to assuage your guilt.

Fuck this all. You needed to put a stop to this. You needed to stop stringing this poor kid along. You needed to be the bad guy.

But, like always, Satoru makes the first move.

He rounds the countertop, coming to a stop by your chair. Satoru kneels to the floor, taking your hands within his owns. If it were anyone else, you would have melted.

Not him. Anyone but him.

"I meant what I said yesterday." He quietly says. "I know you still think I'm young, but I'm 22. I'm more than old enough to treat you the way you deserve to be treated." Oh God. When you turn away, he's reaching out, placing a hand on your cheek. You're forced to stare at him.

"Thank you for giving me a chance." He smiles. "I-I always thought you'd never see me that way, but then you said you liked me too and-"

"Wait wait, hold on." You interrupt. "What?"

He suddenly looks unsure, his gaze darting around. "At the bar last night. I confessed, and you said it back."

That doesn't sound like you. If anything, when you're drunk, you're annoyingly honest. You've never seen Satoru as more than a kid how could you have said that to him?

But he can't be lying. Not with those eyes. Eyes that were suddenly starting to fall like dying stars.

"Oh..." He trails off. "Did you not mean it?"

He handed you your chance on a silver platter. It was a mistake. I was drunk. I've never seen you like that. I took advantage of you.

You can break his heart, here and now. You take in a breath.

"No." You smile. "Of course I meant it. I...really really like you, Satoru."

His smiles returns and he's leaping up. You can't stop him from kissing you, but he's quick, flitting away just as quickly to give you a hug.

"I'm so glad." He whispers. "I'll make you happy, I promise. I'll do anything for you."

You pat his back, still in a daze.

Satoru is smart. He's a physics major, he's got to be smart. You just need to pretend to date him for a while before he realizes that you're too old for him. Then, he'll leave you for someone his age.

He'll snap out of it eventually, right?

[cazshmere]

Moon Signs and the Trap of Manipulation 🎭

materialist🔖

DISCLAIMER: This post is meant to bring awareness to subtle manipulation tactics that each Moon sign might be more vulnerable to. Being aware of these patterns can help you set better boundaries and protect yourself from being taken advantage of. Remember, manipulation isn’t always obvious, and recognizing these behaviors can help you stay in control of your own choices. These are just my personal observations so please take them with a grain of salt 🎭

♈ Aries Moon

1. People pretend to be your friends but secretly compete with you, trying to one-up or outshine you.

2. Manipulators make you feel like you’re in charge, knowing that stroking your ego makes you more willing to comply.

3. You can be guilt-tripped into taking the lead in situations, even when it’s not beneficial to you.

4. You might be manipulated into unnecessary fights, arguments, or rivalries by people who provoke you on purpose.

5. People may secretly compete with you by copying your ideas, style, or achievements while pretending to admire you. They subtly try to outdo you or take credit for your originality, making you feel the need to constantly prove yourself.

🎭 for instance a “friend” that always hypes you up as the leader but subtly takes credit for your ideas and efforts. you end up doing all the work while they sit back and benefit.

♉ Taurus Moon

1. People use financial or emotional security to gain control over you.

2. Being pampered with gifts, acts of service, or luxurious experiences can make you overlook red flags sometimes.

3. Some people make you dependent on them so that you feel like you need them to be okay.

4. Fear of change or instability can be used to keep you in a stagnant or toxic situation.

5. People may appeal to your loyalty, making you feel guilty for leaving situations that no longer serve you.

🎭 okay so for instance a partner provides for you financially and always does nice things for you, but slowly starts controlling where you go, what you do, and who you see. since they’ve “done so much for you”, you feel guilty setting boundaries.

♊ Gemini Moon

1. People who can keep up with your mind can subtly steer your opinions and perceptions.

2. If someone engages you in deep, interesting conversations, you may ignore their true motives.

3. You might be manipulated through fast-talking, gaslighting, or cleverly twisted words.

4. You could be distracted by fun, new ideas, or constant entertainment, making you miss underlying manipulation.

5. People can create an “information overload”, overwhelming you so you stop questioning them.

🎭 okay so lets say there’s this friend who always has fascinating conversations with you but subtly inserts their own biases and over time, you start adopting their beliefs without realizing they’ve been shaping your opinions💀 scary ngl

♋ Cancer Moon

1. People who play the victim can make you feel responsible for their happiness.

2. You may stay in toxic situations out of loyalty, especially if someone reminds you of past good times.

3. Guilt-tripping tactics like “after everything I’ve done for you” can make you feel obligated to help.

4. Some people use their emotions to control your actions, acting sad or hurt whenever you set boundaries.

5. Fear of abandonment can be exploited to keep you stuck in draining relationships.

🎭 okay so lets say a family member constantly reminds you how much they sacrificed for you, making you feel guilty for prioritizing yourself. even when they mistreat you, you feel like you “owe” them loyalty.

♌ Leo Moon

1. Flattery and constant praise can blind you to manipulation.

2. People who make you feel special or put you on a pedestal can subtly control your actions.

3. Your fear of being embarrassed or looking bad in public can be used against you.

4. Manipulators may guilt you into staying by making you feel like their admiration is conditional.

5. Someone may create a situation where they “need” you to save them, making you feel heroic.

🎭 for example a partner constantly praises you in public but privately criticizes and controls you. you don’t want to leave because you feel like everyone sees you as a “power couple” because of the manipulation😕

♍ Virgo Moon

1. People convince you that you owe them help or that it’s your job to fix things.

2. You might be guilt-tripped into doing more by people who act helpless or incompetent.

3. Manipulators use your perfectionism against you, making you feel like nothing you do is “enough”.

4. Constant subtle criticism can make you dependent on their validation.

5. You might be drawn to “projects” or people who seem broken but just need your help to “change”.

🎭 let’s say a boss subtly criticizes your work but also tells you that “no one else can do it like you,” making you work extra hard for their approval😕

♎ Libra Moon

1. People use your desire for peace to pressure you into saying yes.

2. Manipulators guilt you into staying by saying you’re being “cold” or “selfish.”

3. Someone may use social circles or mutual connections to trap you in toxic dynamics.

4. You may stay in bad situations to avoid confrontation or looking like the bad guy.

5. Love-bombing (excessive charm and attention) can make you ignore red flags.

🎭 a friend always acts hurt whenever you say no, making you feel guilty. you keep agreeing to things just to avoid feeling like a bad person.

♏ Scorpio Moon

1. People create deep emotional connections quickly to trap you.

2. Secrets, shared trauma, or deep conversations can be used as a tool to control you.

3. Someone might convince you that only they truly understand you, making you dependent on them.

4. Emotional blackmail, threats, or withholding affection can keep you attached.

5. Manipulators might play with your trust issues, making you feel like you are the problem.

🎭 let’s say a partner love-bombs you, creates an intense emotional bond, then slowly isolates you from others, making you feel like they’re the only one who truly gets you, BLARING RED FLAG BABY 🚩🚩

♐ Sagittarius Moon

1. People convince you to take risks, knowing you love spontaneity.

2. Manipulators promise big, exciting things but never deliver.

3. Someone might make you feel “boring” or “trapped” if you try to be cautious.

4. Your belief in freedom may be twisted into an excuse for them to avoid responsibility.

5. You might be manipulated into chasing dreams that only benefit them.

🎭 someone constantly asks for your insights, ideas, or perspectives, making you feel valued for your wisdom. but later, they present your knowledge as their own, taking credit while you’re left wondering if you were just being used as a stepping stone.

♑ Capricorn Moon

1. People make you feel like it’s your job to take care of them.

2. Manipulators guilt you into overworking, making you feel like your success depends on them. I’ve noticed that for Capricorn Moons, there is a high possibility that one or both of their parents control and manipulate them.

3. Your fear of failure can be used to pressure you into doing things.

4. You may feel obligated to stay in a situation because you’ve already invested time and effort.

5. Someone might convince you that leaving means you “lack discipline” or are “giving up”.

🎭 picture this: a toxic work environment convinces you that you must overwork yourself because ‘success comes to those who sacrifice’. the people around you reinforce this message, making you feel like it’s normal😔

♒ Aquarius Moon

1. People use your love for unique perspectives to subtly push their own agenda.

2. Someone might make you feel like only they see the world the way you do.

3. Manipulators can twist your desire for freedom into making you avoid real emotional connections.

4. You might be convinced to reject traditional stability, even when it would benefit you.

5. Your rebellious side may be used to push you into unnecessary conflicts.

🎭 its like when a friend convinces you to cut off everyone in your life because “they don’t understand you,” isolating you so you rely only on them 🚩🚩🚩🚩

♓ Pisces Moon

1. People use your empathy to make you feel like you must save them.

2. Someone might make you believe in a dream-like fantasy to keep you attached.

3. Manipulators use sob stories and victimization to guilt you into staying.

4. You may be gaslit into questioning your reality.

5. Someone might use your idealism to get you to ignore practical concerns.

🎭 for example a toxic partner convinces you that enduring suffering together is a “beautiful love story,” making you ignore red flags💀 like boi???

gif & divider credits to the rightful owners

© cazshmere 2024 [All Rights Reserved]

[arabella0001]

it took me like two weeks to write this

nowhere to hide

✧ anime: attack on titan

✧ pairing: eren yeager x reader

synopsis: there’s a fine line between guilt and obsession—and he’s already crossed it

warnings: slow burn(10k words), possesive/obssesive eren, manipulation, consensual sex, overstimulation, edging, fingering, praise/degrading kink, rough sex, biting, oral sex (both receiving), penetrative vaginal sex, dirty talk, breeding kink, after care, comfort

After Eren fully accesses his ability to see the future, he discovers something unexpected after touching Historia’s hand—the subconscious projections of those around him when he makes contact. Fleeting, abstract, easy to ignore.

Until he touches you.

The hall buzzes with conversation, clinking dishes, and the scrape of chairs against wood. Eren barely registers any of it.

He’s moving through the crowd, brushing past shoulders and hands, when his fingers accidentally graze yours. It’s nothing—a fleeting touch—but the moment it happens, his breath catches.

It slams into him—sharp, foreign. You

Calm as ever, outwardly composed, but beneath it—a tremor. Desire, raw and untempered, seeping through the cracks of a mind that shouldn’t be this exposed.

Eren freezes mid-step, gaze snapping toward you.

You notice. Your eyes meet his, brows lifting slightly. “Eren?”

He realizes he’s staring. His hand falls back to his side, and for a moment, he forgets how to respond. His mouth opens, but no sound comes out. He clears his throat, dragging his hand away as if the touch had burned him.

“I—I thought…” he starts, but the words tumble out awkwardly, and he shuts his mouth. His gaze flickers to yours again, searching, unsure if he imagined it.

“It’s nothing. Sorry.”

You tilt your head, unconvinced, but let it go.

Eren forces himself to keep walking, but his heart pounds harder than it should. The echo of that feeling—your feelings—lingers longer than he’s ready to admit.

The rest of the day drags on, but Eren feels a step behind it.

His hands move on instinct—gripping equipment, adjusting gear, going through the motions of training—but his mind loops back. Back to that moment. That flicker of something he wasn’t supposed to see.

He hadn’t expected that from you.

It wasn’t like you ever acted that way around him. In fact, you barely spoke outside of mission necessities. But now that he’d seen it—felt it—it was impossible to unsee.

Now, without meaning to, his eyes find you across the training field.

You’re focused, laughing lightly at something Jean says. Ordinary. You don’t seem any different. Eren watches too long, searching for cracks—proof that the need he felt wasn’t imagined or just his mind playing tricks.

At one point, you glance up, meeting his gaze by chance.

He watched you, waiting for the crack to show, for the evidence to spill out across your expression.

You tried to hold his gaze, to keep that mask of indifference firmly in place.

Your thoughts don’t align with how you act—not with him.

Your eyes narrow, just slightly, questioning “What?”

But Eren felt it, deep in his gut.

You want him.

Badly.

It burned into him—glimpses of thoughts he wasn’t meant to witness. Slow, dirty, and unfiltered, lingering in ways that didn’t belong to the person standing in front of him now.

Not that he ever really believed you were innocent but that pulse of need wasn’t supposed to come from you.

Not you, the one who barely glances his way, who speaks to him only in clipped, formal exchanges. And yet, now he knows.

Eren doesn’t answer. His eyes shift away, jaw tightening.

He doesn’t understand it. And he’s not sure if it’s worse that now he wants to.

Eren tells himself it’s nothing. His power misfiring. A stray, meaningless thought. But the rationalizations don’t stick. The weight of your desire—for him—coils around his ribs like a vice. He shouldn’t want to chase it.

But it happens again—during drills, during meals—his gaze flickering to you when no one’s looking. And every damn time, he knows exactly what’s running through your head—how much you want him, how you imagine his hands, his mouth.

Your thoughts aren’t just dirty. They’re filthy.

The days blur together—long hours of drills and meetings. Eren buries himself in work, letting responsibility drag his mind elsewhere.

Whatever he thought he saw—or felt—that day, he brushes it off. There are more important things to worry about.

Or at least, that’s what he tells himself.

But one night, long after the camp has gone quiet, his thoughts drift back to you.

It isn’t intentional—at least, that’s what he convinces himself. A flicker of curiosity, lingering a second too long, and suddenly he’s reaching for that connection again.

He shouldn’t. It’s been days. He hasn’t needed to.

But when he finds you this time, the weight of it knocks the air from his lungs.

Warm. Unrestrained.

These aren’t idle fantasies. The images flooding his mind are sharper, soaked in something deeper—like you aren’t just thinking about him, but acting on it.

Eren sits at the edge of his bed, pulse slow but heavy, dragging a hand down his face as the realization sets in.

Are you…?

His throat tightens, the realization sinking deep into his stomach. You are.

And you’re thinking of him.

It’s a dangerous thing, to linger like this.  He shouldn’t pry. He knows that. This isn’t just a stray glimpse. This is intimate—something you probably believe belongs to you alone.

He should pull away—should sever the thread between your thoughts and his before it twists into something darker. But he doesn’t. Instead, he sinks into it, lets it unravel inside him, heavy and possessive. The deeper he leans, the more he wants—until the guilt dulls into hunger, and even that feels too easy to ignore.

Eren exhales through his nose, knuckles pressing into the mattress as he leans forward.

He should stop.

Instead, he lets the connection stretch thin, sinks into that space between thought and sensation, testing the edges.

And this time, the fantasy unfolds slower.

Late. Quiet. Just the two of you.

Your arm stretches, the hem of your shirt lifting just enough to reveal a sliver of skin. Eren’s eyes track the movement, slow and heavy-lidded, drawn to the slight shift of your hips as you try to balance. Eren stands nearby, leaning against the wall, watching.

“Need help?”

His voice—heavier than usual.

You nod, not bothering to look at him. His chest brushing against your back as he reaches over. His hand ghosts over yours, dragging deliberately down the length of your arm. And he doesn’t move away.

Eren feels the way your body tightens under him, the slight shift of your hips against his. Subtle, but intentional.

You want him to press closer, slide his hands down your waist, pin you against the shelves.

His tongue flicks over his bottom lip as the fantasy darkens.

You—beneath him. Breathless.

Skin damp, thighs trembling, legs locking around his waist as he thrust into you.

Eren’s grip tightens on the sheets. His head drops, teeth sinking into his cheek.

The way you whisper his name—soft, pleading—twists something sharp inside him. Like you already know who you belong to. It isn’t just the fantasy. It’s the way you let him in. The way you want him to take control.

And the worst part? It feels like you’ve thought about this before.

Eren’s breath drags out, uneven. The ache in his cock grows harder to ignore.

How many times have you thought about this?

The idea hums in his veins. You never show it. Barely sparing him a glance during the day. But somewhere behind that careful exterior, you’re imagining his hands. His mouth. And the way he’ll break you apart.

Eren leaned back, letting his head fall against the cold wall of the barracks. Eren shifted where he sat, jaw clenching as his pulse picked up. 

Tomorrow, he’d test it. Just to know if it was real. Just for that.

The next day felt ordinary—training, drills, the same tired routines—but Eren’s mind wasn’t on any of it. He hadn’t forgotten.

So when the day slowed, he waited.

You were alone in the supply room, restocking gear. Outside, the others finished up drills, their voices faint beyond the walls. The scrape of crates echoed softly in the stillness.

Too easy.

Eren stepped inside without a word, letting the door close behind him. His eyes lingered as you stretched to reach a box overhead, balancing on the tips of your toes. You didn’t notice him at first.

But he noticed everything—the way your shirt lifted slightly, the curve of your waist, the subtle strain in your arms, your slighty open mouth. His gaze dipped lower at your ass, your thights rubbing together.

Then his voice cut through the quiet

“Need help?”

You glanced over your shoulder, barely sparing him a look.

“I’m fine,” you replied, fingertips grazing the box’s edge. It shifted slightly, heavier than expected, but you didn’t stop trying.

Eren didn’t care. He stepped forward—closer than necessary. Before you could protest, his hand covered yours, gripping the box effortlessly. His chest brushed against your back, solid and warm, the weight of him impossible to ignore.

Your breath hitched. It wasn’t the closeness that caught you off guard, it was how familiar it felt.

His hand innocently settled on your tensed shoulders, appearing unintentional, dragged softly down your forearm in a fleeting moment as he lowered the box—tracing the exact path you’d imagined the night before.

Your heart pounded in your chest, loud enough that you wondered if he could hear it. The box landed on the table, but Eren didn’t move away too soon. He was enough that the space between breaths felt too thin.

The warmth blooming under your skin betrayed you, creeping up your neck faster than you could push it down.

“Thanks,” you muttered, but even you could hear the slight tremor in your voice.

When your eyes met his, his gaze was already waiting—steady, dark, unflinching.

Eren didn’t speak. He didn’t need to, he just nod. You swallowed hard, turning back to the table, pretending the way your skin prickled under his stare wasn’t real.

But Eren wasn’t pretending. Eren eased against the table’s edge, the casual slope of his body betraying nothing—but the air around him shifted. Arms crossed over his chest, his gaze lingered, just shy of predatory, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips.

“You alright?” His voice was smooth—too smooth. There was something coiled beneath it, something darker. Your fingers twitched against the box.

“Yeah. Just… surprised me.”

Eren didn’t blink. His smirk deepened just enough to make your stomach twist.

“Sorry, just wanted to help” he says softly with a fake gentleness.

And then he was gone, footsteps quiet and unhurried as he slipped down the hall.

You lingered, fingers tightening against the table’s edge as if the solid wood beneath your hands could anchor you. But it didn’t. The ghost of his touch lingered—like he’d left a mark only you could feel. Your heart pounded in uneven beats, echoing the space he’d filled just moments before.

By the third day, it wasn’t curiosity anymore. It was possession.

Eren didn’t expect this to stay with him but etting go didn’t feel like an option—it felt like losing. Curiosity should have faded—fleeting, harmless. But now, it was something else.

You were dangerous in ways he hadn’t anticipated.

Beneath all of that, there was more and it wasn’t leaving his head anytime soon.

It started small.

Eren standing too close, his presence stretching into your space while you adjusted your gear.

There was no reason to linger. No reason for his gaze to slip down the curve of your back—or for him to lean in so close the heat of his breath skimmed your skin.

“Your strap’s loose.”

His voice ghosted along the curve of your ear, threading low and smooth beneath your skin like silk catching on raw edges. You froze, just for a moment. The faintest catch in your breath—barely there—but Eren noticed.

“I’ve got it,” you replied quickly, hands moving to fix it yourself.

But your fingers trembled, betraying you.

Eren stepped back, but his eyes dragged lower before he turned, smirking to himself. He saw it—the soft flush creeping up your neck. You felt it too, the heat crawling higher, betraying you in ways you couldn’t control. It wasn’t fair how easily he unraveled you, how his gaze alone seemed to strip away the armor you wore so carefully around everyone else, especially him. You wanted to brush it off, to laugh, to make it seem like nothing—like it wasn’t happening. You don’t understand what’s different now. But deep down, the weight of his stare didn’t feel like nothing. And that terrified you.

The next time, subtlety wasn’t part of the plan.

It caught you off guard when Levi matched you and Eren for sparring, but you weren’t about to question his decision. You shifted stances, attention locked ahead, until Eren’s shadow stretched beside you—too close.

“Here.”

His hands found your waist, adjusting the tilt of your hips with slow, easy pressure as if molding you beneath his touch.

It wasn’t necessary, he could have told you to move, but he didn’t. Because the second his fingers grazed your skin, he felt the way your muscles tensed involuntarily. Your pulse jumped—small, but enough.

He let his hands linger. Long enough to feel the discomfort settle between you, long enough to make sure you felt it too.

“Better,” he murmured.

Even he wasn’t sure what he was correcting anymore.

When you finally turned toward him, lips parting as if to speak, Eren had already stepped back, returning to his initial stance.

Leaving you standing there, breath uneven, heart racing beneath your ribs. But he noticed the way you held yourself—the way your hands flexed faintly at your sides like your body hadn’t fully come down from his touch.

He was testing the waters the next day.

The sun dipped low while you sat near the barracks. You know he was here, he was caught in the distance, deep in conversation with his friends. But you brush it off, brows furrowed as you skimmed on a map, completely unaware of the weight of Eren’s gaze. He leaned against the wall beside you, arms folded lazily across his chest.

“You look tired.” You didn’t look up, your pulse jumped.

“Nothing to worry about” You tried to joke.

 He crouched down beside you, close enough that his elbow brushed yours as he leaned in.

“You always this tense?” The words hung heavy, spoken just above a whisper. Your eyes flicked toward him—hesitant, uncertain—but you didn’t pull away.

That was all the answer he needed. Eren let the silence stretch, watching the flicker of confusion cross your face. The faintest pink crept into your cheeks.

You were trying to figure him out. Trying to decide if this was nothing—or something more.

But Eren wasn’t guessing anymore. He could feel it—the hesitation in your breath, the way your body betrayed the thoughts you wouldn’t say aloud and he wanted to see how far he could push it.

It wasn’t just the fantasies anymore, it was you.

You, standing there with that same stoic expression during the day—pretending nothing sat beneath the surface. And the more you tried to hide it, the more it twisted in his chest, refusing to settle.

The glimpses came easier now—too easy. Even when he wasn’t searching for them, you were already there, your eyes met his across the field more often and every time—it lingered.

You didn’t avoid him anymore, you were searching for answears.

The last traces of sunlight bled across the trees as drills ended and most of the others had filtered out.

Eren stayed, so did you.

Eren wasn’t subtle. His movements were sharp today—faster, harder. Every block, every shift seemed designed to drag your attention back to him until he caught your wrist.

A sharp twist, your balance slipping bu before you could stumble, his hand settled at your back, steadying you effortlessly. The grip was light, pressing like a brand through your shirt, grounding you more than necessary.

“You’re distracted.” His words brushed against your ear, quiet but heavy.

The heat of his breath sank low, curling beneath your skin, and you hated the way your body responded to it. You swallowed hard, lips parting slightly, but no words came.

‘I thought you wanted this.’ His words fell quiet but sharp. He said it like fact—like something he’d already decided for you, leaving little room for denial.

You stepped back instinctively, confusion flickering across your face as your breath faltered.

Eren let you go, but the look in his eyes stayed with you long after he was gone.

It was late—the kind of late where silence pressed heavy against the walls, where even the wind outside felt distant. You shouldn’t have been awake. Neither should he.

You felt it before you saw him, that familiar weight pressing against your senses, the one you’d grown hyperaware of over the past few days and then—you heard a soft knock.

Eren stood near your door, leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. His gaze flickered toward you, unreadable in the dim light.

“Eren?”

Your voice dipped into confusion as you opened the door, hesitating with one hand on the frame. He didn’t answer, not at first. Instead, his eyes dragged over you slowly, as if he was considering something—measuring.

“Let me in.” his voice lowm carring no edge, but the weight behind it left no room for argument. It wasn’t a request—it was inevitable, like gravity pulling you closer the longer he stood there.

The door clicked softly behind him, louder than it should have in the quiet and you shifted, crossing your arms tightly, a surprise expression on your face as Eren’s gaze swept the room—or maybe just you.

He leaned against your desk, gaze steady, unmoving. The silence between you stretched thin. Nothing about the way he watched you felt passive—he was dissecting you, stripping every layer down without lifting a finger.

“Is something wrong?”

The words came out clipped, your tone thin, and you hated how obvious it sounded—how tense the air had become.

Eren’s head tilted slightly, his stare catching yours and holding it in place.

You opened your mouth, searching for something else to say—anything to break the silence. You try to dechiper his unusual behaviour in the past weeks, like you did every night until now.

The way he was looking at you now...like he knew something you don’t. But soon the realization twisted low in your stomach.

Armin’s voice echoed faintly in the back of your mind in a class you didn’t really pay attention, from months ago. “Eren’s abilities might evolve. If he can see the future after touching Historia’s hand, who’s to say he can’t see more?”

You remembered—his hand brushing yours across the dining table.

The subtle shift afterward, his sudden attention fot you, the way his eyes always finding you, how he stood too close during training, how he touched you accidentally too more to seem a coincidence.

Your pulse betrayed you, hammering beneath your skin, echoing louder than the faint creak of the floorboards. Heat licked at the base of your neck, but you couldn’t tell if it was from embarrassment—or the way his stare coiled low in your stomach, twisting too tight to ignore.

Memories surfaced that you hadn’t meant to recall—things he couldn’t possibly know.

“Eren,” your voice faltered, soft but uncertain. “How long have you—”

“Weeks.” His answer cut clean through the air, sharp and unapologetic, stepping away from the desk, the quiet thud of his boots heavy on the floor.

“Yeah. Since that day at the table.” Your pulse spiked violently.

“You—” you stutter, trying to collect yourself.

“I felt it the moment I touched you.” His voice dipped lower, rougher. “After that, I couldn’t stop.”

Heat flooded your chest, burning its way to your face.

“That’s not p—” you stumbled over the words, stepping back.

You took a hesitant step back, the space between you feeling fragile. You wanted to pull away, but the weight of his stare pinned you in place, unraveling the walls you thought you’d built too carefully. The shame felt distant—overshadowed by the quiet, breathless part of you that wanted him to stay. Before you could retreat any further, his hand caught yours.

His fingers curled around your wrist, firm enough to keep you still, soft enough to make you feel the pulse in his thumb against your skin.

“Isn’t it?” His grip lingered, thumb brushing faintly against the inside of your wrist, and your breath caught in your throat.

“You’re thinking about how close I am,” he murmured, his gaze never wavering. Your chest tightened, eyes widening slightly.

“And now you’re wondering if I’m going to kiss you.” His head dipped, lips barely grazing the edge of your jaw, close enough to feel the warmth but not enough to touch.

The tension in your stomach coiled tighter, unbearable. “I—”

“You’re trying to convince yourself you wouldn’t let me.” His lips twitched faintly at the corner—just enough to make it clear he wasn’t guessing.  “But we both know that’s not true.”

Your heart slammed against your ribs. Eren’s fingers tightened ever so slightly around your wrist, his other hand rising, knuckles skimming just beneath the hem of your shirt, dragging along the bare skin at your waist.

“Eren—” you blurt you, panic in your voice.

“You think this is easy for me?” His voice sharpened, but it wasn’t anger. His palm pressed lower, fingertips skating across the dip of your spine, spreading warmth where they trailed.

“Do you know what it’s like?” His forehead brushed against yours, breath fanning over your lips as he spoke.

“Hearing everything you think about me… feeling it almost every time I’m near you?”

You can’t move, pulse thrumming beneath his touch. Your lips parted, but no sound escaped.

Eren’s hand slipped further down, settling over your hip, fingers flexing slightly against the fabric.

“I know you try to hide it,” he murmured, voice soft but weighted. His eyes searched yours, hovering inches away.“But I feel it. Every time.” The space between you dissolved, his mouth hovering over yours—close enough to take, but waiting. “Just like now.”

Your body betrayed you, pulse racing hard enough to make you dizzy.

“You’re an asshole,” you whispered, but it came out too soft. Because even as you said it, your hands found his chest, pressing into him but not pushing him away. Eren’s smirk deepened, the hand on your waist sliding further, dragging you closer until not a breath of space remained between you.

“I know,” he murmured, lips brushing faintly over yours.

Your breath hitched as his lips hovered a breath away, close enough to taste but just out of reach. The faintest brush, featherlight, like he was daring you to close the distance yourself.

“But you’re not pulling away either.”

His lips finally met yours, slow at first—purposeful—before deepening. The restraint cracked, and Eren’s fingers twisted into your hair, tugging gently as his other hand pressed harder into the curve of your spine. Your body arched into him, warmth pooling low in your stomach as his mouth dragged along your jaw, teeth grazing skin with just enough force to leave you breathless.

“I’m not stopping this time,” he murmurs against your neck, his voice low and thick with certainty. The weight behind his words shatters whatever fragile thread of control was left between you

His hand curls beneath your thigh, lifting it against his hip as he backs you into the wall. You should stop this. You tell yourself that, over and over, even as your breath quickens and your head grows light from the closeness. But every press of his body into yours unravels the reasoning in your head, slipping further away with each second.

It’s not just the way he touches you—it’s the way your body melts under him, the way your pulse races in response, as if it had been waiting for this longer than you’d ever admit. There’s no turning back now, and maybe… maybe you don’t want to.

The kiss turned hungrier—rougher—his hips pressing flush into yours, making your breath falter as you clung to him.

Eren groans softly into your mouth, the sound vibrating against your lips  and you gasp at the deliberate slowness of it. His hand drifted lower, fingers toying at the waistband of your pants.

“I know exactly how far you want me to go.” his voice dropped lower, roughened with the weight of restraint slipping through his fingers

Your breath trembles, lips parting as if to deny it, but nothing comes out. You can’t lie to him—he already knows. His hand dips lower, teasing the border of your pants and skin, and your hips shift forward almost involuntarily, chasing the contact you’ve been too proud to ask for.

“Eren...” you whisper barely audible. His name escapes as little more than a breath, but the way he reacts—his grip tightening at your waist—makes you regret letting it slip.

“Say it again.”  His voice drips with something taut, electric, the weight of his demand sinking deep into your stomach.

“I... I shouldn’t”. your words falter. You know how close you are to losing the last bit of restraint you have, but the heat of his breath against your throat dissolves the fragile thread you're clinging to.

 “But you will.”he whisper teasingly. His thumb pressing lightly over the ridge of your hip bone in no rush to be kind.

His forehead presses against yours, and his mouth hovers almost shy of meeting your lips again,but not enough to be innocent. You can feel him waiting, giving you the chance to pull away.

"You’re thinking about how easy it’d be to let this happen." His hand slides up your waist, skin on skin, slow and steady. "How much you want me to just…" his hand tightens suddenly, pulling you flush against him, lips brushing your ear as he finishes, "…take what’s already mine."

A gasp escapes you, fingers curling against his chest, his words hit harder than they should, the ache pooling between your thighs makes denial impossible.

“I shouldn’t want this.” you say softly, but the conviction doesn’t stick. Your head tilts back, surrendering as his mouth drags along your jawline.

“Oh, but you do.”

His free hand catches your wrist, lifting it gently to pin it beside your head. The action isn’t rough, but it leaves no question of who’s in control.

You bite your lip, hips shifting slightly against him despite the war raging in your head. His hand dips lower again, teasing but holding back, waiting. You feel the hesitation in his touch—giving you the final say, despite how much you can tell he wants this.

"Tell me to stop," he breathes against your throat. "Say it, and I will."

You swallow hard, chest rising and falling with every shaky breath, but you don’t say it. Your thighs press tighter around his, and your nails grip faintly into his shirt, dragging him closer.

“Don’t stop.”

Eren groans, low and satisfied, before his lips crash into yours again, deeper and hungrier than before. His grip on your waist tightens as his body presses fully into you, letting you feel just how much restraint he’s been holding back.

“Good girl.”

The words leave his mouth against yours, and heat pools fast at the praise, twisting something tight in your stomach. There’s no time to feel embarrassed, his hand is already slipping beneath the fabric of your clothes, dragging along the bare skin beneath.

“Eren—” you gasp, but doesn’t let you finish.

His fingers flex at your waist, pulling you closer until there’s nothing, his eyes searching yours as if daring you to take it back.

 “You’re sure?”his voice low, almost dangerous.

“I’ve been sure.” There’s no hesitation after that.

His mouth finds yours, claiming, while his hand drags higher beneath your shirt, tracing the muscles beneath your ribs. His touch maps paths across your skin, leaving nothing untouched.

“You don’t know what you do to me.” he moans into your mouth.

He feels every subtle tremble beneath his hands as they ghost over your ribs, teasing closer to the edge of reason. His lips drift lower, tracing the length of your throat, and your hips grind back instinctively, chasing the pressure you’re no longer ashamed to crave.

“Mmm.” His forehead pressing against yours for just a second—like he needs that brief pause to keep from losing himself completely.

"I know, baby. I can feel it."

 His lips drift lower, tracing the length of your throat, and your hips grind back instinctively, chasing the pressure you’re no longer ashamed to crave. A low curse spills from him, his palm dragging down your side, slipping beneath the waistband of your pants, heat following every inch he claims.

His hand clamps at your thigh, dragging you closer as his hips bear down with purpose. His mouth lingers at your jaw, teasing without touching, while his thumb sketches slow, lazy lines over the sensitive skin at the edge of your thigh. Your fingers twitch against his chest, curling into the fabric of his shirt as you suck in a shaky breath.

“You’re not playing fair.”you’re struggling to keep steady.

“I never said I would.” his breath hums against your skin, the sound curling at the edges like he knows exactly what he's doing to you.

His hand shifts higher, fingertips skimming the waistband again, not pushing further. Your hips grinding again more insistently, the ache pooling low in your stomach becoming too much to bare.

Eren pauses, pulling back just enough to meet your gaze, he watches through half-lidded eyes, smirk tugging slow and knowing as his thumb brushing over your lower stomach.

“If you want something, you need to say it.” His teeth grazing the soft skin just below your ear before catching lightly on your earlobe, tugging slow enough to make you moan.

“Eren… just—” you swallow hard, whispering.

“Just what?” his voice cutting you off. He presses forward, pinning you harder against the wall as his knee slips between your legs, the friction enough to make your thighs tense around him.

“You want me to touch you here?”

His palm drags lower, just brushing over the damp heat between your legs, but he doesn’t cross that last inch.

“Or here?”

His lips brush over your collarbone, trailing down the center of your breast, with deliberate slowness, pulling your peaks with a teasing drag that leaves your skin burning for more .

“Eren, please.” your voice desperate, voice shaking

The plea slips out before you can stop it, and you feel the way his body stiffens against you, his breath hitching slightly in response.

“You sound so pretty when you beg.”

His mouth crashes into yours, all heat and teeth, his tongue pressing past your lips—demanding, possessive, like he’s been waiting for you to break just like this. His hand slides under the fabric of your pants, fingers brushing teasingly and you arch into him, biting your lip as frustration pools thick in your stomach.

“I need you… I need you to touch me.”

“See? That wasn’t so hard.”

His hand finally dips lower, fingers sliding beneath your underwear, your head falls back against the wall with a sharp inhale, thighs squeezing tighter around him. His finger moving over your clit, slow and purposeful, dragging a long moan from your lips before he continues.

You part your lips, breath shaky as his thumb presses faintly against your tongue.

"Suck."

And you do, eyes flicking up to meet his—half-lidded, almost innocent, your lips stretched around him just enough to make his jaw tense. His gaze locks onto yours, dark and unblinking, and the weight of it alone leaves you pulsing, dripping with need.

He pulls his thumb from your mouth, dragging it slowly down your bottom lip as his hand returns to your breast, gripping tighter this time. His lips trail down your neck, nipping and sucking faint marks into the skin—just enough to leave reminders that won’t fade easily.

His fingers move faster, thrusting deeper, stretching you open until you’re gasping against his shoulder, eyes squeezing shut as the pressure builds unbearably fast, he slips another one inside you

“Fuck…so wet.” He exhales sharply, his body tensing against you as if the realization alone might break his restraint. “I should make you wait longer... just to see how far I can push you.” His hand tightens at your hip, holding you still as his mouth brushes against your ear. “But I don’t think you’d last.”

You let out a loud moan, and his hand clamps tighter against your thigh, pulling you closer as he works you open faster, deeper.

His teeth sink into the sensitive skin around your breast, sucking hard enough to leave another mark. He groans again, eyes flicking up to watch your expression, catching the way your mouth falls open, breath coming in shallow gasps.

“Such a dirty girl, squeezing me so tight.” His words push you closer to the edge, and his pace never falter, stretching you open. “Look at me”

Your breath shudders, and his free hand wraps around your throat—not to squeeze, just enough to keep you there, to make sure you don’t look away. “I said, look at me.” His lips hover an inch from yours, and when you finally meet his gaze, the intensity in his eyes alone is enough to undo you.

 “Come for me, baby. Let me feel it” As you ride out the waves of pleasure, Eren presses his lips into yours, possessive and unrelenting, like he’s trying to drag every last bit of your high out of you.

But the heat in his gaze doesn’t fade. He grins faintly, his fingers still moving inside your pussy, teasing even as you whimper beneath him. Eren shifts, hands sliding beneath your thighs as he lifts you, carrying you toward the bed.

“Eren…wha—”

As your back meets the mattress, his body presses into yours, kisses along your jaw, nipping lightly everywhere he can. His hands slip down your sides as he moves lower, settling between your legs without breaking eye contact.

You feel the faint scrape of his teeth against your hipbone as he presses a lingering kiss there, trailing heat over your skin as his lips move lower. His breath fans against your inner thigh, and when his mouth finally hovers over the spot that aches for him most, you can’t stop the way your hips shift toward him.

"So needy…" he murmurs, the faintest trace of amusement curling his lips as he holds you down with ease. His thumbs press into the sensitive skin just above your knees, pushing them further apart.

“Don’t hide from me.”  His breath is hot against you, lips ghosting just above where you ache for him, but he stays right there—his forehead pressing to your inner thigh briefly“You smell so good… fuck.”  His mouth hovers just over your center, teasing faint breaths over the spot that aches for him most. “Say it”  Your cheeks burn under the intensity of his stare and his proximity making you dizzy, makes it impossible to resist him

 “I want… I want your mouth.”

 His eyes flash with satisfaction, lips curving into a slow, dangerous smile. “That’s my girl.” Without breaking eye contact, his mouth lowers, tongue flicking over your cunt in one slow, deliberate stroke. You gasp, back arching slightly from the sensitivy as his grip tightens on your thighs, holding you in place.

“Stay still..” His mouth works you open, hot and unrelenting, and even when your hips buck involuntarily, he holds you still. The edge of his teeth grazes faintly over your clit, enough to make you gasp but not enough to hurt. “You wanted this, remember?” Your hands fly to his hair, fingers tangling as you tug, chasing the pressure that builds higher with every flick of his tongue.

"That’s it. Keep grinding on my tongue." He mutter between licking

His pace shifts, tongue pressing deeper, and the coil in your stomach twists tighter, leaving you panting as you arch against him. His grip on your thighs bruises, but the slight pain only makes the pleasure sharper. His tongue  dragging out each flick until the pleasure feels unbearable. Your hips buck slightly, and he groans, pressing you down harder with his forearm.

"Eren—fuck, I’m—"

His grip on your thighs tightens as he presses deeper, his tongue working you over relentlessly until he feels you tighten beneath him. His tongue flicks with more purpose, faster, rougher now, until your body starts to shake beneath him.

“Let go. Now.”

The orgasm tears through you, and he feels it, groaning deeply as he holds you down, tongue working you through every pulse. Your body trembles beneath him, legs tightening around his head, but he doesn’t let up until you’re gasping, the overstimulation leaving you squirming beneath his mouth. Only then does he pull back, lips glossy and swollen as he watches you with hooded eyes. His hands trail lazily along your thighs, grounding you with soft, slow circles.

"Look at you," he murmurs, wiping the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. "So pretty when you fall apart for me." Your breath is uneven, chest heaving and he presses his forehead to yours, lips just brushing against your mouth, his finger start teasing your pussy again.

“Eren f-fuck, I can’t- anymore”

“No. You’re not going anywhere.” His tongue drags over your lower lip, his palm flattens against your lower stomach, holding you in place “You’re gonna take everything I give you.” His fingers move deeper inside your pussy “You can handle it. I know you can.” You whimper at the pressure, but it only seems to encourage him. His hips shift forward, pressing into yours with deliberate slowness, letting you feel exactly what he’s holding back.

“You like it when I ruin you, don’t you?”his voice ragged, playful. You’re barely breathing, moans spilling from your throat. His free hand dragging up your body to cup your breast, thumb brushing and pinching your buds hard.

His voice drops lower, rough and hot against your ear. “You’re nothing but a filthy girl when I touch you like this, right baby?.” His eyes flick up, catching the way your body responds, and he grins against your neck. You try to suppress the effect his words have on you and his grip on you tightens, possessive.

His hand slips from your breast, fingers tracing down your stomach as his pace slows slightly—just enough to tease you, keeping you hovering on the edge. You squirm against him, the tension almost unbearable, but he doesn’t let up. The plea cracks something inside him, and his restraint slips further as his finger-fucking you harder. His lips brush yours, the kiss deep but fleeting, as if testing how long he can keep teasing you before you break.

“You’re gonna need to beg a little louder if you want more.”

Your nails dig into his shoulders, and he smirks into the next kiss, clearly satisfied with your frustration. Your breath hitches, lips parting slightly, but you hesitate just long enough for him to notice.

“I can keep this up all night if you want.” his nose brushes against yours, his lips barely touching but not fully kissing you, your hips shifting against his hand, silently chasing more, but he holds firm, not giving you the relief you need.

Your pride wars with your desperation, but the ache blooming between your thighs wins. “PIease, please more—i want you to fuck me.” voice shaking as the second the words leave your mouth, Eren lets out a low groan, his composure slipping further, taking his finger from you, leaving you empty.

“Mhm.” His hips press forward, grinding against yours with deliberate force, dragging another gasp  “I’m gonna give you exactly what you’ve been thinking about, baby.” His fingers tighten around your throat “And you’re gonna take all of it.” His lips graze over your collarbone.

Your gaze stays locked below his waist, eyes dark with hunger as his fingers work quickly, tugging your shirt over your head in one swift motion. The fabric barely hits the floor before his hands are at your hips, dragging down your underwear without hesitation—there’s no teasing now, just the sharp edge of need driving both of you forward.

He steps back just enough to strip himself down, and you can’t stop staring. The tension in his body is unmistakable, every movement deliberate yet rushed, like he’s barely holding himself together. When his waistband falls, your breath stutters, and he catches the way your eyes linger.

“Greedy girl.”

He releases his hold on you just enough to step back, guiding your trembling body down until your knees hit the floor willingly. His thumb brushes against your chin, tilting your head up as he stares down at you, his eyes flickering with something dangerous.

“You want this, don’t you?”

You nod faintly, but it’s not enough for him. Your breath trembles, lips parting as your eyes flicker up to his.

“Fuck my mouth, Eren.”

His eyes darken instantly and his hand tangles in your hair, gripping firmly, tilting your head back further. “Fuck… you really know how to get what you want, don’t you?” His thumb drags over your lower lip, pressing down just enough for you to part your mouth further. “Open up.”

You open, sucking his thumb slowly, and the low curse that escapes him only fuels the ache building between your thighs again. “You look so fucking perfect like this.”

His cock hard and heavy in his hand as he guides it toward your lips. His tip presses against your tongue, and the groan that spills from his throat when you take him in is raw, almost broken. He is panting softly, hand tightening in your hair “That’s it… deeper.” His hips push forward slowly, his other hand brushing the side of your face, thumb tracing your cheek as he watches himself disappear further past your lips.

“So obedient”.Your hands grip his thighs, nails faintly dragging over his skin as you hollow your cheeks, pulling another groan from him that rattles through his chest. His hips buck involuntarily, and his eyes narrow faintly as he tugs at your hair, pulling you off him just enough for your lips to hover over his tip.

“Careful. Or I’ll fuck your throat until you’re begging for air.” His hand relaxes in your hair, guiding you back down slowly. “But you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

You hum softly around him in response, and the vibrations make his head fall back briefly, jaw tightening as his grip on your hair tightens again.

“God… you are a perfect little slut, aren’t you?”

You sink lower, taking him deeper until your nose brushes his pelvis, and he lets out a rough, broken groan, his other hand pressing flat against the wall for support. His hips roll forward slowly, guiding the pace, and his eyes flick down to watch the way your lips stretch around him.

“Taking me so well.” His thumb brushes against your jaw, tracing faint circles as his voice softens—just enough to make you wet again. “You were made for this.” The rough edge returns as his hips snap forward slightly, pressing deeper into your throat, forcing tears to prick at the corners of your eyes.

“Crying already, baby?” His lips curl faintly, dark amusement flickering across his face. “I know you can take more.” He thrusts forward again, slower this time, letting you feel every inch as he sinks deeper. “Relax. Let me in.” You relax your jaw, letting him push deeper  and his voice drops lower, and his hand brushes down the side of your neck, squizing slightly, making you gag.

 “You feel that? How deep I am?” His head tilts, watching you carefully as you nod around him, your throat tightening.. “Fuck— I feel you tightening up around me.” His pace stutters briefly, hips jerking forward without warning as he lets out another rough sound.

“You want me to come down your throat, don’t you?” His words send another wave of heat crashing through you, your pussy dripping with want and the soft hum of your agreement sends him over the edge.  His grip tightens in your hair, and his body shudders as he thrusts forward one final time, groaning deeply as he spills into your mouth. His hips roll forward gently as he rides out the high, fingers brushing faintly over the side of your face.

Eren is panting, half-smirking as he watches you swallow. “You didn’t waste a drop. Such a good little slut.” He tilts your chin up, leaning down to press a slow, lingering kiss to your lips. His thumb brushes over your swollen lips, eyes darkening, looking at your ravished face, full blushing.

“You were so good to me, so sweet.”

Eren’s hands slide beneath your arms, lifting you from your knees with ease. His grip is firm but careful as he lays you back against the bed, settling between your legs without hesitation. His weight pins you down, the heat of his body pressing into yours in all the right ways.

His teeth graze over your collarbone, biting down just enough to make you gasp, his tongue follows, soothing the faint sting while his fingers keep working you, unrelenting. Your hips shift instinctively, but his grip tightens around your thigh.

“Don't be so eager, baby”

You squirm, a frustrated whimper escaping, and his smirk deepens, his hips grind down, firm and deliberate, dragging against you and drawing another soft, involuntary moan spills from your lips, your head tilting back against the pillow. His palm curling around your breast until he squeezes rough and needy, making your back arch into him. His teeth graze your nipple, tugging faintly before letting go.

Your fingers curl into his back, nails dragging faint scratches over his shirt, and the low groan he gives while his gaze trailing over every inch of exposed skin. His knee shifts between your legs, parting them just enough to remind you how close he is—how easily he could end the wait. But he doesn’t. Not yet. He takes his time, dragging it out in that torturous way that leaves you trembling beneath him.

“I could leave you like this, you know.” His lips brush the corner of your mouth, hovering just out of reach. “Make you sit with it—feel me between your legs every time you move.” His hand trails down your side, leaving goosebumps in its wake. “Would you like that?”

“No… I wouldn’t.” He hums softly, thumb tracing light circles along your cheek, but the glint in his eyes says he’s not done playing yet.

“I think you would.” His mouth drops to your neck again, tongue flicking over the faint mark left earlier. “I think you’d love walking around knowing you’re soaking for me, and no one else has a clue.” Your hips roll against him, desperate for friction, and the soft groan he lets out is pure satisfaction. His head dips lower and your breath stutters, but he waits—watching you carefully, expectantly.

“Eren, I can’t, i can’t anymore.” His laugh vibrates against your skin, dark and satisfied, his tongue tracing over the faint bruise beneath your jaw.

“Ask nicely.”

“Please… fuck me.”

Eren’s eyes darken, the sound of your voice unraveling whatever was left of his control

He shifts lower, settling between your legs, and his hand catches your thigh, guiding it higher around his waist as he presses closer, his mouth swallowing the soft, desperate sounds you can’t hold back.

“I’ll take such good care of you…,” he murmurs against your lips.  “I’m going to make sure you remember this.”, biting your lip with his teeth in that torturous way that leaves you trembling beneath him.

Your thighs squeeze tighter around his waist, pulling him in, and he groans softly, the sound vibrating against your mouth.

"You’re lucky I’ve lasted this long." he murmurs, the words slipping through gritted teeth as his jaw clenches,  He drags his length along your folds, the slow, movement making your breath catch as he watches every flicker of reaction on your face before, pushing in and out your pussy, the teasing beginning to slip away.

The last shred of restraint snaps. His hands slip beneath your knees, parting them wider as he sinks into you with a slow, steady push. His forehead presses to yours, breath shallow as he watches your expression shift, eyes darkening when the moan falls from your lips, your walls clenching around him already from his torturously edging. All this pent up tension between you two after so many months finally released.

"Fuck… so good." A groan catches in his throat as he starts to move, each thrust deep and precise, his body rocking against yours with growing intensity "I’m not stopping until I’ve filled you so deep you’ll still feel me tomorrow."

Your hips roll up to meet him, chasing every bit of friction, and he rewards you with a low curse and rougher movements.  His hand curls around the back of your thigh, pulling you higher as his pace grows more forceful, each snap of his hips drawing sounds from you that you can’t hold back. "That’s it, baby. So desperate for me."

Your fingers dig into his shoulders, clinging as he holds you down, his lips grazing over yours but not quite kissing—letting the tension hang between you. Your hips are struggling to match his thrusts, overwhelmed by the intensity of the movement, Eren can’t think only on how good and warm your pussy feels  "I could do anything I want, and you’d take it."

“Yes, yes yes-“ tears springing at your eyes, legs trembling as his free hand anchors you, holding you firmly.

 "I’ve got you." His forehead presses to yours, eyes flicking down as he watches the way your body moves beneath him—like he can’t look away. "Come for me, baby."

His pace doesn’t falter, even as your body tightens around him, and the scream, that spills from your lips feels too loud in the room. He kisses you hard, swallowing the sound as your body trembles beneath him, the sharp snap of his hips growing erratic.

His head dips lower, lips pressing to the space just beneath your ear, voice shaking as he struggles to hold on. “I want to fill you up, to know your mine in every way, will you want that?”

His words alone make you shiver, nodding frantically, thighs trembling around him as he pushes deeper, dragging out each thrust like he’s chasing something just out of reach."Shit—" But instead of release, his movements falter, a frustrated groan vibrating low in his chest. His hands tighten at your hips, fingers digging in as his breath hitches against your neck.

Suddenly, he pulls out, the loss of contact making you whimper softly before he shifts, flipping you onto your stomach with ease.

“Turn around.”

His grip tightens at your waist, urging you to shift, but when you hesitate, his hands push firmer—more commanding. “Now.” The way his voice drops sends heat curling deep in your stomach, and you move instinctively, legs trembling from previous orgasm as you turn beneath him. His palm presses against your lower back, guiding you down as he shifts behind you.

He drags his fingers down the length of your spine, slow and deliberate, until they settle at your hips, squeezing tightly. “Stay like that.”the weight of his gaze burns into your back as he watches you—taking in the sight of you laid out for him. “You look so fucking good like this.”

He is guiding your head back down as his palm finds the back of your neck, pressing you gently into the mattress.

“Keep your head down. I want you to feel every inch of me.”

The weight of his body shifts, his chest pressing against your back as he leans over you, his breath hot against your shoulder. His hips roll forward, and the sharp friction sends a broken sound from your lips that he catches instantly, groaning into your ear. “That’s what I wanted to hear.” His hands slip to your hips, holding you firmly in place as he thrusts deeper, rougher this time, dragging a gasp from your throat as your fingers curl against the sheets beneath you.

His pace grows faster, sharper, each thrust forcing your body forward slightly until his hand presses flat between your shoulder blades, pinning you down completely. Your body trembles beneath him, and he feels it—the way you clench around him, the soft whimpers you try to swallow. But he doesn’t let you hide anything.

“You like it rough, don’t you?” His palm drags up your back, curling lightly into your hair. The hand in your hair tightens, tugging your head back gently, forcing you to arch as his hips snap forward, rougher this time.

“I want to hear how much you love it.”

“I—I love it...”

His hand tightens in your hair, dragging another gasp from you as he thrusts deeper, holding you there. Your body trembles as his grip on your hips tightens, pulling you back to meet every movement until the sound of skin meeting skin fills the room. “Say you’re mine.”

Your breath catches, head tilting back further, but he doesn’t let up—his hand sliding down to grip your throat from behind, pulling you up just enough to kiss the side of your jaw.

“I’m yours.” He groans, pace stuttering slightly as his forehead presses into the back of your shoulder. His hand slips lower, fingers working between your thighs as he thrusts harder, chasing both your release and his.

“You’re gonna come for me again.” His voice is rough, breathless, but there’s no mistaking the command in it. “Come while I’m inside you.”

Your body tightens at his words, hips rocking instinctively as the pleasure builds too fast to stop.  “I want to feel it.” His teeth drag over your shoulder, sucking faint marks into your skin as your body tenses, finally falling apart around him. “Fuck— ”

His hips slam forward a final time, his body shuddering against yours and a low, drawn-out groan escapes him as he reaches his peak, burying himself as deep as possible while he spills into you. His breath comes in ragged, heavy bursts, but his arms stay locked around you, refusing to let go even as his body begins to relax.

The room lay shrouded in silence—thick and heavy, broken only by the faint rise and fall of your breath and the soft rustle of sheets shifting beneath Eren’s weight. His chest pressed against yours, the space between you felt too intimate, too fragile, like something that could shatter with the wrong movement.

His forehead rested against your shoulder, hair damp against your skin, and though his hold on you was firm, you couldn’t help the uneasy twist in your stomach.  

Your fingers hovered lightly over his back, unsure if you should pull him closer or push him away — not because you didn’t want this, but because you weren’t sure what to do now. 

"You’re quiet," Eren murmured, his voice rough against your neck, but soft in a way that made your heart ache.  

"So are you," you replied, barely above a whisper.  

He didn’t answer immediately. His hand slid slowly along your waist, his thumb brushing faint circles over your hip, but the touch felt different now — like he was grounding you both, not just savoring the moment.  

The silence stretched a little too long.  

"You can hear me now, can’t you?" The words slipped out before you could stop them, and your pulse quickened as the weight of the question settled between you.  

Eren’s breath stilled, hesitation flickering behind the sharpness of his gaze. When he finally leaned back, the weight of his eyes on you felt different—less demanding, more searching.

"No Eren murmured, his fingers threading gently through the strands of your hair, tucking them behind your ear. His touch lingered just a second too long, as if reluctant to let go.  "Not right now."

You searched his expression, but there was no sign of deception, no hint that he was holding anything back.  

Still, doubt prickled at you, and your voice trembled slightly when you spoke. "But you did. For days. You heard everything."  

His gaze softened, but the intensity never faded.  

"I couldn’t control it," he admitted, thumb grazing along your cheek. "I didn’t mean to invade your head."

You wanted to believe him, but the memory of his voice—the way he had known exactly what you wanted—burned too vividly in the back of your mind. It wasn’t just that he’d heard you; it was that he had listened. He had memorized every unspoken need, every hidden desire you hadn’t even voiced aloud. That should have unsettled you. Maybe it did. But as his hand slid gently over your waist, thumb drawing soft circles against your skin, you felt something else. Something dangerously close to comfort

“I feel stupid,” you muttered, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. Shame curled hot beneath your skin, pooling low in your chest, and you stared hard at the sheets rather than risk meeting his gaze.

"I didn’t think you could actually hear—"

Before the weight of your words could settle, Eren’s lips brushed softly over yours—intentional, lingering, but careful. Like he could kiss the doubt away if he held you close enough.

His hand slid up to cup your jaw, tilting your face just enough to keep you there, as if to remind you that whatever you thought was too much, wasn’t.

“‘Don’t,” Eren whispered, his breath hot and close, the words pressing into you more firmly than his lips. He pulled back just enough for your eyes to meet, his thumb grazing slow circles against your waist. “Don’t start second-guessing this now.’”

His eyes met yours, dark and unwavering. "You’re not the only one who wanted this, you know."

Heat crept up your skin, but doubt still lingered in the back of your mind.  

"I just—" You swallowed, unsure how to explain the knot twisting in your chest. "It’s hard not to feel stupid, knowing you—"

"You think I wasn’t losing my mind hearing the things you thought about me?" Eren interrupted, his lips brushing along your jaw, trailing down the side of your neck slowly, deliberately. "I could barely focus half the time." 

Your breath hitched, nails lightly digging into his back as his mouth lingered just below your ear.  

"You hid it too well," you mumbled, heat burning at the edges of your voice.  

Eren huffed softly, the faintest smirk curling against your skin. "Yeah, well… I didn’t."  

His hand slipped beneath the sheets, dragging slowly along your thigh, and your heart stuttered beneath his touch.  

"I’m not going to pretend I didn’t want this just as much as you did." His voice dipped lower, rough and thick with something unspoken. "And I’m not letting you overthink it now."

Your breath trembled as his hand tilted your chin up, guiding your lips back to his in a kiss that left no room for doubt.  

Whatever insecurity lingered between you faded beneath the weight of his touch.

Eren's lips lingered on yours, soft and slow, but when he pulled away, the weight in his eyes hadn’t faded. His hand slipped from your waist to rest gently on the side of your neck, thumb brushing against the curve of your jaw.  

For a long moment, he just looked at you — like he was waiting for something.  

"I mean it,” he said finally, voice quiet but steady. "I’ll find a way to stop hearing your thoughts." 

You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in tone.  

"It’s not fair to you. I shouldn’t know what you’re thinking all the time. It’s yours — it’s supposed to be private." 

Your breath hitched, eyes searching his, but all you saw was sincerity.  

"I… don’t blame you," you whispered, though even as you said it, doubt still curled in the back of your mind. "But it’s hard not to feel weird about it."  

Eren exhaled slowly, his forehead pressing gently against yours. His hand slid back down to your waist, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you.  

"I’ll fix it," he promised, his voice so quiet it almost got lost in the air between you. "I swear."

For a moment, you let yourself believe him, the steady rhythm of his breathing against you easing some of the tightness in your chest.  

But that didn’t answer the other question lingering at the back of your mind — the one you weren’t sure you were ready to ask.  

"And after that?" you murmured, fingers trailing lightly along the back of his neck. "When you can’t hear my thoughts anymore — what then?"

Even as you asked, you felt his grip tighten, as if the thought of distance unsettled him more than he’d admit, his eyes flicking over your face carefully, like he was weighing the right words.  

"That’s up to you," he said simply, but the roughness in his voice betrayed him. "But if you think I’m going to forget about this… about you—"  

His hand slipped beneath your jaw again, tilting your head up slightly, his thumb brushing over your lips.  

"You’re wrong.

Your stomach twisted, heat prickling at your skin beneath his touch.  

"So, what? We just—"

"We’ll figure it out." Eren’s lips twitched faintly, the corner of his mouth curling into something softer — something just for you. "Together, if you want that."  

You stared at him, heart pounding harder than it should, but the thought of pushing him away felt impossible now.  

"I do," you admitted quietly, and the tension that had been holding Eren back seemed to melt all at once.  

He kissed you again, deeper this time, like he needed to hear those words as much as you needed to say them. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you fully beneath him, and the weight of him pressed you into the mattress in a way that left no doubt —  

This wasn’t going to be the last time.

levi smut