#meant Code grey

[stellarhistoria]

@magioffire has a very strange person here.

"Do.. dh.. eh?" confusion crosses the young lady's face after a failure to process the word. "I am very sorry, English is my third language, what is that word you're saying? Dock all fur? I do not understand. Is that a word for trespassing?" she looks too terribly like a confused puppy, for how much she looks like a cursed elf herself.

[greenlaut]

the four hunters 🗡🌿

extras + rambles below cut

yipeee i finally finished this illustration 🎉🎉

this is my personal take on the hunters gang (we will ignore that boromir died). honestly, i had a lot of fun thinking of the designs.

had to bring back my aragorn with his silly braid and blue hair ribbon. he's a ranger for most of his life, so he'd definitely go for practicality and what he's already familiar with—so no armour nor gambeson. he probably had a small fight with elrond before they left for the quest; where elrond tried to make him swap his gear for better, newer ones and aragorn just adamantly refusing because he's a lot more familiar (and more comfortable) with his own. which is why he's wearing tattered and worn rags. his red tunic is the only new thing he allowed elrond to swap to a new one. boromir definitely got exhasperated and somewhere down the line, he loaned aragorn his pair of arm bracers.

boromir (and faramir's (not featured here)) design changed a lot since the past years. it's a mash-up of both movie!boromir and lore accurate book!boromir. his hair is a lot darker and he has more of a storm blue-grey eyes as a nod towards his elendil ancestry. his clothing is heavily based off the movie. as for his cloak; since he's The son of gondor and denethor's favourite, i think he'd definitely get the fortune of wearing a fur cloak. the clasp has the white tree engraved on it.

gimli is by far my favourite. i always wanted to draw my take of gimli in his regalia. as a dwarven royalty, i think he'd groom his hair and beard really well, and he would've put on a lot of accessories to show his status. but since he's on a quest, he's not fully decked out in jewelries—wearing very practical clothing: gambeson with chainmail underneath. also, i like the dwarven fighting style they did in the hobbit movie where they go around and knock people off with melee. so gimli got hefty arm bracers and knuckle weights to really punch the shit out of some orcs.

for legolas; i think despite being an elf, he has the factors of being (1) mirkwood elf and (2) lowkey autistic coded. so he doesn't dress "like an elf"—not that the company would've known, with how limited their interactions with elves in general already. this meant that he dressed too casually despite going on a life-or-death quest. very light leather armour to support his speed and agility. he's not even wearing boots; just a pair of tree-climbing canvas shoes that he wrapped tightly. god knows how he survived this far. he's mostly a right handed archer—but since he lived for quite a long while, he taught himself to shoot with left hand too for emergencies. since his left hand isn't as stable as his right hand, he has a left-shoulder-pad.

THEY ALL HAVE SCARS because who doesn't get scars when you're literal warriors be fr. legolas' are more faded out though, because he's old as fuck.

close-ups:

fin.

[eirianerisdar]

I'm watching Nico Rosberg's new vlog and did he actually secretly change his ordered colour for the AMG hypercar he bought from Mercedes to a specific silver-grey Ferrari shade called Grigio Ferro without telling them what it meant. He just said I want it [this particular hex code] and they thought it was just a nice colour but it's actually. A donning of Ferrari colours over a Mercedes-built engine

Nico. Nico. I know what you're doing. You didn't have to do this I know there's a poet in you but this is the most unhinged thing you've done in years

[lilacwants]

ensnared.

18+ notes: ensnared is finally back! coding is a blessing fr... ̤̮ summary: Homelander becomes dangerously obsessed with you, a new supe whose powers of possession challenge his control. Your intense attraction spirals into a lethal game of desire and even power. warnings: Homelander being homelander, sublander, morally grey! fem reader. word count: 1.5k

The Seven's headquarters were never quiet, even in the dead of the night. Homelander paced the halls, his footsteps echoing against the sterile floors. Tonight, though, his mind wasn't on the usual politics of Vought or his public image. Tonight, he was obsessed.

It started a few weeks ago when you had just joined The Seven. Vought had been vague about your origins, only mentioning that your powers were unique and invaluable. Stan Edgar had personally recommended you and it was easy to see why. Your abilities included mind control and a hypnotic form of seduction that even the strongest of wills struggled to resist.

Homelander prided himself on his control, but you tested him in ways he hadn't anticipated. He found himself drawn to you, his thoughts consumed by your every movement and the sultry tone of your voice.

Tonight, he couldn’t shake the image of you from his mind. The way you moved through battle earlier, your body sleek and fluid like a snake hunting its prey. The others watched in awe, but Homelander felt something deeper—an uncontrollable desire that both excited and infuriated him.

He spotted you on the balcony of one of the observation rooms, alone and staring out over the city. The dim lights cast shadows that danced across your face, enhancing your already enchanting features. You didn't flinch when he entered, your senses attuned to his presence as if you had been expecting him.

"Mesmera," he greeted, his voice a controlled growl.

You turned slowly, your eyes meeting his with an intensity that sent a shiver down his spine. "Homelander," you replied, your voice a soft purr.

He took a step closer, his gaze locked onto yours. "You're becoming quite the distraction."

A slow smile spread across your lips. "Is that a complaint or a compliment?"

"Both," he admitted, taking another step. He was close enough now to feel the warmth radiating from your body, to catch the faint scent of something intoxicating that clung to your skin. "What is it about you that makes it so hard to focus?"

You tilted your head, considering him for a moment. "Maybe it's the way you can't control me," you said, your voice dropping to a whisper. "Or maybe it's because you see a reflection of your own darkness in me."

His jaw tightened. No one spoke to him like this, but you weren't like anyone else. "You're playing a dangerous game," he warned, his hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair from your face.

You leaned into his touch, your eyes never leaving his. "I think you like dangerous games."

For a moment, he was tempted to give in to the magnetic pull between you. But he knew that giving in meant losing control and that was something he couldn't afford yet. Not even for you.

"You might be right," he admitted, his voice a low rumble. "But don't think for a second that you can tame me."

Your smile widened, revealing a hint of something predatory. "I wouldn't dream of it. I prefer to let the wild remain wild."

The tension between you was palpable, an electric charge that threatened to ignite at any moment. Homelander stepped back, his eyes still locked onto yours. "This isn't over," he said, a promise and a threat intertwined in his words.

You nodded, your smile never faltering. "I wouldn't want it to be."

As he turned to leave, he felt your eyes on him, a silent reminder of the dangerous game you were playing. A game that could tear you apart or bind you together in ways neither of you could foresee.

One thing was certain: in the end, you would both bear the scars of this deadly attraction.

In the days that followed, Homelander found it increasingly difficult to maintain his composure. Every meeting, every mission, every casual encounter with you chipped away at the carefully constructed facade he wore. Your presence was like a drug, intoxicating and addictive, making it hard to think straight. He hated the power you had over him, yet he craved it at the same time.

One evening, during a debriefing in the conference room, you caught his eye across the table. Your lips curled into a knowing smile, and he felt his pulse quicken. He forced himself to look away, focusing on the dull drone of A Train's report. But his thoughts were a storm, swirling with images of you, your voice, your touch.

After the meeting, he cornered you in the hallway. The space was narrow, the walls closing in on him as he stood inches from you. "We need to talk," he said, his voice low and dangerous.

"Is this about my performance?" you asked innocently, though your eyes sparkled with mischief.

"Don't play games with me," he snapped. "You know damn well what this is about."

You arched an eyebrow. "Enlighten me."

He clenched his fists, struggling to keep his temper in check. "You've been toying with me. Pushing my buttons. I don't appreciate being manipulated."

"Manipulated?" You laughed softly. "I'm not manipulating you, Homelander. Everything you're feeling is real."

"Real or not, it needs to stop," he growled. "I can't afford distractions."

"And yet, here you are," you murmured, stepping closer until your bodies were almost touching. "Chasing after the very distraction you claim to want to avoid."

His breath hitched as you placed a hand on his chest, your touch sending a jolt of electricity through him. "You're a walking contradiction, Homelander. You say one thing, but your actions tell a different story."

For a moment, he was paralyzed, torn between the desire to push you away and the urge to pull you closer. His mind screamed for control, but his body betrayed him, leaning into your touch.

"You think you can control everything," you whispered, your lips brushing against his ear. "But some things are beyond your control. Some things are meant to be wild and free."

With a growl of frustration, he grabbed your wrist, pulling your hand away from his chest. "You're dangerous," he said, his voice shaking with a mix of anger and desire. "And not just to me. To the team. To Vought."

"Then maybe you should do something about it," you challenged, your eyes blazing with defiance.

He stared at you, his grip tightening on your wrist. The air between you crackled with tension, a battle of wills that neither of you was willing to lose. Slowly, he released your wrist, stepping back as if burned.

"This isn't over," he repeated, his voice a rough whisper. "I won't let you destroy everything I've built."

You smiled a hint of sadness in your eyes. "I'm not here to destroy, Homelander. I'm here to uncover the truth. About you. About me. About all of us."

As he walked away, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was losing control, not just of you, but of himself. The line between attraction and obsession was becoming dangerously blurred, and he didn't know how much longer he could hold on without crossing it entirely.

The days turned into weeks, and the tension between you and Homelander only grew. Every encounter was charged with unspoken words and barely restrained desire. The other members of The Seven began to notice, casting curious glances your way, but no one dared to intervene.

One night, after a particularly gruelling mission, Homelander found himself standing outside your quarters. He didn't know how he had ended up there, but he couldn't bring himself to leave. He raised his hand to knock, hesitated, and then lowered it again, feeling foolish.

Just as he turned to go, the door opened, and there you stood, silhouetted in the dim light. "Couldn't sleep?" you asked, your voice soft and inviting.

"Something like that," he admitted, his eyes drinking in the sight of you.

You stepped aside, allowing him to enter. The room was small and sparsely furnished, a stark contrast to the opulence of his own quarters. But it felt more real, more grounded. He watched as you moved to the window, your silhouette framed by the city lights.

"Why do you do it?" he asked suddenly. "Why do you push me like this?"

You turned to face him, your expression unreadable. "Because I see the real you, Homelander. The man behind the mask. And I think you need someone who isn't afraid to challenge you."

He took a step closer, the distance between you shrinking. "And what if I don't want to be challenged? What if I just want to forget, even for a moment?"

"Then you have to let go," you whispered, closing the gap between you. "You have to trust that not everything needs to be controlled."

With a trembling hand, he reached out, cupping your face gently. For the first time in as long as he could remember, he allowed himself to be vulnerable. And in that moment, he realized that maybe, just maybe, he didn't have to do it all alone.

As your lips met, the world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you, tangled in a web of desire and defiance. It was a dangerous game, but for now, it was the only game that mattered.

[futureplayboibunnie]

Aphrodesiacs Pt. 3

Miguel O’Hara x fem! spidey! reader

You and Miguel O’Hara were bitten by the same spider…what could possibly happen?

ON A ROLL BABY. U ASKED FOR IT

NSFW. (18+ pls pls pls)

The days seemed to be getting longer and your temper seemed to be getting shorter.

As you have the same recurring meltdown the same recurring issue you began to wonder if this spanned any form or any way deeper. It scared you. You didn’t even want to think about it. So again you pushed it down, a sensation you despised at this point. All this fucking pushing, all this shoving, all this avoiding. Part of you wanted to drag Miguel by the hair and punch him until he was red and bloody for ignoring you, the other part was already on your knees, begging him to shove his cock in your mouth.

You were in the lab late. You decided to go to HQ right after you fucked yourself and found that it didn’t work, so it seemed like you had to grasp at invisible straws. You were relieved to feel that Miguel wasn’t there, a sigh of disgruntled strain fell from your throat as you raked a hand through your hair.

Miguel said that there was no cure for this physical enlightenment but you didn’t believe that there wasn’t some sort of suppressant for it. Hell, you’d work your fingers to the bone if it meant that you didn’t have to think or feel like this. You sat yourself down and began to look into the spider that bit you through Lyla’s encrypted files that only you and Miguel had access to. You looked at it’s genetic code and decided that maybe you could make a serum that if you included that with a impulse hindering chemical compound then maybe you could fix something up to help you fucking cope.

You began some tests to chemically combine everything and so far there wasn’t any explosions or manic reaction that you were having, a glimmer of hope sparkled within you, a face flashing with a certain glow, something you haven’t felt in weeks. Miguel made you dark and morally grey, he was changing your personality and the idea of it shook you up a little, there were so many things you were capable of doing and you were on your last string. If he as much lifted up a pair of scissors to cut that string, you’d go wild. A thought kept occuring to you. What if you do fix this? What if the…feelings for him are still there? Not just sex but…want. You shivered at the thought but it still remained intact in your head. You’d deal with that when the time calls for it. Right now, you just didn’t to think. Because every thought was him rawing you.

You finalised the rough prototype for the serum and you were about to go home until you felt it. Him. Here. In his office. He was so far away but you could still feel him. Now, you just wanted to feel him throbbing inside of you. No. No. Stop that. You wanted to wince out in pain. Why now? Why must he be here now? You were literally about to go home but now that idea seems like hell. He doesn’t want to see you, an sad pathetic reminder didn’t seem to deter you, in fact it made you more confident and angry.

Miguel had to see what you were up to, he has a right to know. Before you knew it, you found your feet on the outskirts of his office. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Shit. You swung in nonchalantly, like none of this was even affecting you.

Miguel’s eyes shot open. Your presence was like heroin to him, if he had more of it he was sure he’d die a happy broken man. But he couldn’t have that. No. You couldn’t be here. Why were you so intent on not listening to him? He was livid, his breath was strained and uneven as he turned to face you.

“Why do you never fucking listen to me?” He bellowed, eyes gleaming red as the bones crunched in his jaw. He looked so exhausted, his lack of sleep seemed to be worse than yours. “No- No. Por favor. Please.” He pinched the bridge of his nose as he seemingly begged at nothing. He needed to get a grip.

“You said that there was no way to make a suppressant.” You barked at him. “Well, I’m making one and we’re going to end this for good.” You curled your lips into a frown, a flame of seriousness burning within, you rubbed your neck. “I am done being this pathetic. I can’t- I won’t.” You paused to regain a breath, the oxygen in your lungs becoming scarce as you trailed off. “We are not managing this and one day we’ll- You said you’d hurt me…but I’m not afraid of that. I’m afraid of what the hell you’ll do if I ever got my hands on you.”.

Miguel glared a hole into your face, the look he was giving you was simply a one that lacked any semblance of self control, what made you even wetter was that he was trying so so hard to hold back. To be good. To be better. To do better. But he was lying to himself, he wasn’t a righteous man and he didn’t deserve the normalcy of liking a pretty girl and taking her out, the universe was punishing him and making his desires that much more clear. God, he could feel how wet you were, he could taste it in the air. It was like he was being painfully edged.

You could practically hear the tongue in his mouth move and the shift alone made you swallow and wet your lips. You fluttered your eyes shut as you felt him inch closer, you let out a breath and clenched your fists by your sides. So much for not feeling pathetic. You were sure you’d drool if he came any closer.

Miguel should stop, he needed to stop, but his feet kept moving. All he could think about was what his cock wanted, and what your pussy felt like. You were standing there so sure of yourself that this stupid serum would work he felt bad for you. He was right in front of you now, his scent made you let out a choked sob that you seemed to reel back in when your chest caved. Impressive. It was impressive that you kept your chin held up high.

Miguel was going to regret it. But he had to feel it. Just once.

His taloned finger reached out to gently smooth out the outlines of your face. He cupped your sweet and oh so fuckable face softly as a strange sort of tender sentiment in the valley of these darkened, lustful sex crazed thoughts. You looked like you were about to cry. His touch sparked wildfire throughout your entire body, your pussy was clenching around nothing and a bead of sweat trailed down your temple. Blinking up at him dumbly, your eyes pricked with tears, he looked like a wet dream.

“You know I should be tired.” He scoffed huskily, his eyes darkening by the nanosecond. “I have not fucking slept for days because of you and I should be tired.” Miguel had a devilish sinful smile play at his lips, like he was toying with you. “But I’m not. I’m…hyperractive….” Miguel’s hand suddenly gripped around your neck unkindly, his fingers were definitely not tender now. “All I can think about is you.” He grunted huskily and you moaned as he tightened his grip, you were soaked now and he felt it. “All I can think about is how sweet and pretty your pussy would be for me….I know you want to show me, I know you want to beg me…Come on, I’m right here.” He teased relentlessly, making you chase the ultimate prize. “Say the words… beg me with those pretty drooling lips to give you what you need.”

You genuinely forgot how to speak, the mechanisms of moving your tongue seemed to go haywire. You wanted to beg him so bad but your mouth couldn’t find it and the words got caught in your throat. Miguel furrowed a brow, amused yet irriated.

“Y’know what I’ll take it then.” Miguel’s free reached his talons lower and suddenly ripped the crotch of your suit, ripping off your underwear in the process too. You gasped as he plunged 3 thick fingers into your sopping hole, not preparing you at all for how big and thick his fingers would be. Your own fingers definitely didn’t beforhand. A loud moan ripped from your throat as his thumb toyed with your clit.

“God you’re so wet. Did you try to fuck yourself before you got here?” He chuckled cruelly in your ear.

“Fuck…Yeah. It didn’t work. Miguel, nothing worked.” You choked out through sobs and he seems very pleased indeed.

“Yeah because it wasn’t me. Only my fingers are going to be in you ever, understand?” His grip went from your neck to your cheeks to pinch hard and he-

“Hey…” Miguel pinched your cheeks to look up at him, his nails dug into your skin harder and a sensation of pain flashed through you. “Hey! Look at me!” He said clearly through gritted teeth, unhappily yanking you from a fantasy that had wetness pooling between your thighs.

Miguel’s gaze softened as his fingers tenderly cupped your face again. God, it was wrong. Being near you. Touching you at all. He leaned in and whispered in your ear. “Please go. Don’t ever come find me again. I can’t control myself and I know I’d hurt you, even more than you hurting me. We’d just hurt each other.” Miguel’s voice made you still, he was so sincere and strangely caring.

You gulped, knowing he was right and he saw your expression become one of defeat. He let you go with a bitter taste in his mouth and turned around walking away from you and messing with his watch, making a portal and disappearing into the night.

-

I AM JUST THE WORST. ykw i’m going to stretch this series out so much, like the tension the fleeting touches just to torture you. U THINK THEY’RE ACTUALLYGOING TO FUCK? maybe who knows i might. u just have to keep reading

taglist (giggles): @thel0velykey190 @scaleniusrm @drefear @imkikibtw @tbeanie3 @spxctorsslxt @saturnknows @eddiestitmiguelsbigdick @mafer383 @i-feel-violated @crowleysthings @avatar-lover @tbeanie3 @l3laze @wyvernnest @rowboatweeb

[happyhauntt]

a grey day — spencer reid.

writing masterlist | askbox

─── summary: spencer meets the newest member of the department.

─── pairing: spencer reid x autistic!medical examiner!reader.

─── warnings: fluff, reader is autistic & a mom, spencer's iq gets slashed to sixty when he talks to pretty girls and it's my favourite thing. no use of y/n. reader is performing an autopsy so mentions of blood but nothing too graphic.

─── word count: 1.3k.

     YOU KNOW IT'S A GREY DAY before you even manage to open your eyes.

     And really, you’re expecting it  ━  this whole week has been filled with pale pink and lime green with solid, unwavering turquoise blobs in the middle, because you started your new job on Monday and the apprehension, the excited, the nausea, they've all been stirring up inside you for days now.

     Waking up to a grey day doesn't hit you as hard as it usually would.

     Still, you feel sluggish when you drag yourself out of bed ten full minutes after your alarm has gone off. The shower is a no-go this morning  ━  if you’re honest with yourself, the shower is a no-go most mornings, when your skin feels soft and sensitive and your brain can't cope with the idea of a barrage of hot water raining down on you  ━  so you slap on some deodorant and spray some dry shampoo in your hair, tugging it up into a rough ponytail.

     You take your time with your makeup, though; strawberry lipgloss and lots of concealer, a heaping of eyeliner and your favourite gold hoop earrings are exactly what you need to feel better. When you step out into the hallway wearing your comfiest black jeans and a jumper that's probably smart enough to pass the dress code, hearing your daughter giggling in the kitchen, the grey day lightens a little.

     It gets even better when your sister-in-law presses a travel mug of iced coffee into your hands.

     "Jackie, I fucking adore you," you say around a mouthful of delicious, soul-quenching caffeinated goodness. You’d half-expected Jackie to have something planned. Four years of living together means that Jackie tends to know about your off days before you do.

     The other woman suppresses a smile, coupled with a sharp look. "There's a three-year-old right there!"

     You snort, waving your hand nonchalantly. As if you don't have this conversation every single day. "Nellie knows not to repeat what I say." You turn to your daughter, your heart swelling three sizes as the little girl at the kitchen table looks up from her drawing. "Nell, baby, what am I always telling you?"

     "Don't go home with strangers."

     "Well, yeah, but I meant the other thing."

     The little girl brightens, revealing a missing front tooth. "If Aunt Jackie won't say it, then I shouldn't say it."

      You giggle, scurrying over to drop a kiss on your daughter's forehead. "Exactly right, my little love."

     When you turn back toward the kitchen counter, your sister-in-law's face is painted with an affronted look, her mouth half-open. "I can say bad words!"

      You wrinkle your nose. "I'll believe that when I see it."

     By the time you leave the house, sliding into your car with a second cup of iced coffee in hand, the day has lightened to a pale blue. You hope it will stay that way.

     "YOU LOOK SO TIRED, DUDE."

     Well, alright, he'll admit it wasn't the first thing he was expecting to hear when he entered the coroner's office. It's been a while since he ventured down to the morgue, sure, but Dr. Peterson has never talked to him like that before, and he's fairly certain not that much has changed in the three-or-so weeks it's been.

     And Spencer's observant. He prides himself on being able to notice things, tiny details other people seem to miss, things that are so obvious to him that he can't comprehend how normal people can't see them.

     So if anyone asks, he'll never admit that it took a full twelve seconds before he realised that the girl in the white lab coat, elbow-deep in an open chest cavity, is definitely not Dr. Peterson.

     "Uh..."

     It's the most intelligent response he can muster in the moment.

     "It's okay," you add, hardly bothering to look up from the corpse. "I'm tired too. And you're not the worst-looking guy in the room." You jerk your head at the dead guy on the table. "Although I'd say that's a pretty low bar, all things considered."

     "Where's Dr. Peterson?"

     "He retired. Or got a promotion, I think? Not totally sure." You shrug, raising an eyebrow at him. "I thought I'd met most of the department already, but I don't recognise you.” You tell him your name, squinting at him through your plastic glasses.”I’m the new... coroner, medical examiner, pathologist, dancing monkey? They didn't totally specify the position when they offered it, which I think says more about me than anything else."

     Spencer blinks. He's not totally sure he's ever met anyone who could talk nearly as fast as him before. "Dr. Spencer Reid, Behavioral Analysis Unit. Nice to meet you."

     "Oh, cool!" The liver in your hands gives a wet squelch as you drop it into a metal dish. "I'm under the BAU! I answer to your Section Chief, um, Agent Strauss? She's a little harsh, huh? I'd, uh, shake your hand, but..." You hold both hands up, mimicking a surrender, showing off the blue medical gloves slick with blood.

     An inkling of a smile creeps onto Spencer's face. "I don't shake hands."

     "That's fair," you say with a shrug. "Can I help you, Dr. Reid, or did you get lost looking for the cafeteria?"

     “No, actually.” He remembers the files he was supposed to show you and reaches into his satchel. The intensity of your gaze is like lasers on his skin and he can’t help but fumble, almost sending a stack of documents scattering across the floor.

     When he looks back up at you, cheeks flushed rosy, your stare hasn’t wavered even slightly. Amusement lingers in your eyes.

     He clears his throat and holds out the files as if they are a peace offering. He doesn’t quite understand whether a battle has been fought, but he definitely feels like he lost one. “Hotch— uh, Agent Hotchner sent the Howard County ME’s report on the Richardson case. He wanted you to look it over and sign off before they file it for the District Attorney.”

     You nod at him. The corner of your mouth quirks a little at his stuttering. You’re not sure you’ve ever been so immediately endeared to somebody before, but there he is, blinking at you like a deer caught in headlights. It’s so adorable.

     “Sure, I can do that,” you say. “Just pop it on the desk over there and I’ll get on with it when I’m done here. Can’t get any bodily fluids on the paperwork, y’know? That’d be a nightmare.”

     The volume of your laugh startles him, and he jerks slightly. The sound of it is loud and warm and it should really freak him out, considering you’re wrist-deep in a cadaver and cackling like a maniac, but it doesn’t. It’s actually kind of sweet.

     “If that’s all, Dr, Reid, I’d like to finish rooting through this guy’s insides so I can sew him back up.” Your words are an obvious dismissal, but he doesn’t feel offended, not with the kind smile still adorning your features.

     He nods and backs away. His feet feel a little numb. “Sure thing. I’ll, uh, catch you later. Have fun!”

     “I’m sure I will.”

     You sound like you’re about to laugh again. Have fun, really? He knows he’s fairly inept when it comes to women, but have fun? He scurries out of the morgue and back into the land of the living, and as Spencer boards the elevator all he can think is that he’s so glad Derek wasn’t there to witness that.

     He’s certain he’d never live it down.

     Meanwhile you resume your autopsy with an odd, fuzzy feeling in your chest. You start to hum beneath your breath, a song that must have played on the radio while you were driving to work.

     Your grey day feels a little pink at the edges.

[theseyellowdays]

Telling people about aftg is the bane of my existence — not because they're bad, because how the fuck do you succinctly explain the nuance of this story; one that centers characters who aren't good people (and aren't meant to be).

Every characters moral code is fucked. Every last one of them are ready to fight at the drop of a hat. They're criminals and murders and assholes and abusers and victims — and that's what makes the story so good. I don't read these books to mirror myself after the characters. I read these books because they're an exercise in critical thinking. In the age of cancel culture, these books feel like an important reminder that the world isn't black and white, and just because your lines aren't someone else's doesn't mean they're wrong and you're right.

So many stories about the underdog follow that archetype that they're perfect and good to the core. Aftg flips this standard (and so many others) on its head and presents a story that I find more interesting: the underdogs win, but they do it by themselves and through unconventional and morally grey means.

[little-annie]

Thanks to the @strangerthingswritersguild for the prompt and @eyesofshinigami for the brain worm 🪱 our conversation created.

Did you know in fan fic writing the term Rubber Ducking refers to bouncing ideas off of each other/ brainstorming with friends? Well I didn't. I thought it was a sex thing.

From that, this idea was born.

Rubber Ducking | M | 873 WC | Steddie | Buckingham

It was a cold February night when the first sighting occurred. The air in the apartment had felt different. Charged with an electricity Robin couldn't explain.

Something was happening. And at first she had thought it was an anomaly, then maybe a coincidence. 

But then it kept happening. 

Those black empty eyes met hers and mere hours later the sound of the city was lost to the wails of the night.

It sounded like torture.

Like the stripping of flesh and bones.

But even more horrifically, Robin learned it was anything but.

Sure, there was flesh and bone, but how Steve apparently getting absolutely railed by Eddie in the next room over had any connection to the rubber ducky that ended up on the living room coffee table every so often, Robin hadn't the slightest clue.

She just knew that unfortunately there had to be one.

A few weeks later, sitting at the breakfast bar and trying to ignore the low hanging neckline of Chrissy's already frankly obscene tank top, Robin notices the presence of yet another rubber ducky.

This one donning a Sailor's hat and suit. Similar to the one she remembers her and Steve wearing in their days at Scoops Ahoy. 

Not twenty minutes later she's met with Eddie asking if she knows where Steve hid his old uniform. Regrettably she tells him, and that night goes to bed taking precautionary measures with foam plugs in her ears.

The following week there's a light blue ducky on the coffee table instead, then a grey ducky the week after. Then after a few more weeks there's what appears to be a leather daddy ducky. 

Sometimes in between there's a plain normal rubber ducky.

“You figure it out yet?” Chrissy asks one evening, plopping down onto the couch next to Robin and setting her feet in her lap.

God what she wouldn't do for this girl and her polka dot pink fuzzy socks.

Looking over at the boys who are now apparently disgustingly in love, and currently trading lazy kisses and giggles back and forth in the loveseat, Robin sighs, “Unfortunately.”

She nearly had the code cracked before a drunken Steve had told her what it all meant.

Original Ducky = Someone is horny.

Sailor Ducky (Sir Butterscotch) = Someone wears the Scoops uniform. 

Light Blue (Richard) = Someone wants to give / receive head.

Grey (Bari) = Someone wants to be tied up/do the tying up.

Leather Daddy = "You really don't want to know Robin.”

So essentially flagging, she figures, but with various types of rubber duckys, which is horrific in its own way.

Now when one of them is feeling it, they pick a rubber ducky of their choosing and leave it out on the coffee table as a subtle way of asking for the represented attention.

“Sex Duck,” Robin sighs, leaning her head against the back of the couch, turning to look at Chrissy, “They have a fucking sex duck.”

“Like that show with the sex mug?”

“Like the show with the sex mug.” She answers flatly 

Sure seeing the ducks at home was bad enough, but when they started appearing in the wild it was so much worse.

First in Steve's car on the dash, then Eddie's van, then one day at work when Eddie came sauntering in and pulled a light blue ducky from his pocket, tossing it in Steve's direction before walking off towards the employees only bathroom.

They think they're subtle, but really they're not.

It's just another Tuesday evening when a new ducky makes its way onto the coffee table in the living room. Traditional like the first, but donning a pink bow and black painted on lashes. Feminine. Cute.

Like a game, Robin's began trying to decipher the meaning behind every duck before Steve inevitably tells her. It helps her cope with the trauma. 

This one though, makes her wonder. 

Sitting on the couch staring probably a little too intensely at the newest addition to the boys collection, Robin hardly notices when Steve plops down beside her.

She startles when she notices him, his voice catching her off guard. “Whatcha doing?”

“Trying to figure out what kink of yours this little lady represents.”

Steve hums and Eddie joins them shortly after, settling in the rocking chair across from them, giving the ducky the same odd look Robin had been moments ago.

“Whatcha doing, Buck?”

She gestures to the duck, “Figuring out her deal.”

Feminization maybe?

“Chrissy?” Eddie asks

“What?” Robin looks up from those cute long lashed eyes, “No. Your duck.”

Next to her Steve huffs a laugh, crossing his arms and leaning back against the couch. “Not our ducky, Rob.”

What?

“Course it is.”

“Not our ducky, Babe.” Eddie repeats Steve's words.

It has to be. “Well it's not mine.” Robin grumbles.

“No, no Rob it's not.” Steve nudges Robin's knee with his, “Maybe it's meant for you though.”

No.

No?

Looking far too excited, Eddie smirks, “Chris is in her room isn't she?”

Well… it… it wouldn't hurt to check would it? Maybe the boys are just teasing her, playing a game. But on the off chance they're not…

“You gonna go get your girl, Rob?”

Jesus Christ, she's going to, isn't she?

[guided-by-stars]

It baffles me when I see other people going through Stars and Time and they get frustrated when 1. Bonnie pushes Siffrin into the tear, and 2. Siffrin doesn't find the key in the Head Housemaiden's office and they get softlocked. There's frustration that comes out in other points as well, but those are the two situations where I've seen it be the most intense. I've seen people yell at Bonnie, yell at Mirabelle, yell at Siffrin, genuine anger and annoyance, some people will hold grudges. Say that this choice is stupid, try to find a way to avoid looping back. Usually at that point, I know I'm not exactly going to have the most fun watching them play.

I think some people trap themselves in the expectations of the medium. They're approaching it as a game first, and an expression of art or a story with people in it second. It genuinely surprises me sometimes when people treat characters as...characters, and not people. Do you not try to immerse yourself in the world and circumstances when you engage with media? Take it seriously? I see people try to justify these deaths. Most people aren't frustrated with the rock death, because they justify it as being a tutorial. At the same time, people who are already grumbling about having to go through Dormont again on loop 1... I'm not sure if this experience is for them. Considering on my completion file I ended far past loop 200... Acts 3 and 4 alone often have so much PURPOSEFUL looping, sometimes all the way back to Dormont.

People justify the softlock as a "tutorial" for the icon that shows when you cannot progress that loop...but at that point it had already been shown how tutorials were not made to be obtrusive. The fighting tutorial was centered around Mirabelle's own anxiety, an anxiety that progresses and grows throughout their journey through the house. The Bonnie taking down an enemy tutorial? That's not locked to any fight, it happens the first time that Bonnie has the chance to do so, it could happen anywhere! Adrienne could have easily coded it so that the first time the player was softlocked, the tutorial for that icon would play there. That's not the point of it. The point of it was to show how self-depricating Siffrin is, at that point in the game. How he puts so much of his self worth on his role as the trap disarmer and the key finder. How he blames himself for everything. How he sees himself as a failure. If you could just figure out where the key was if you tried really hard or something, you'd miss all of that. Almost everything in this game has a point and the point almost always is to show you more about the characters.

The game is meant to make you play through it countless times. It's meant to show you the experience of Siffrin, someone who has no choice but to go through it countless times. It's not for padding, it's not to be mean spirited or unfair or difficult, it's to give you an EXPERIENCE. When you want to fast forwards through text but you have a feeling that something might have changed and you stop just in time to see new dialogue, when you notice Siffrin's smile fading from act to act, when you make sure to pick up every souvenir from Dormont every time you loop JUST IN CASE you need to use it somewhere in the House, when you are so thrown off by the rock in the Death Corridor that you become paranoid and check every pillar afterwards just in case... and then you get the Memory of Pillars for your troubles.

When you check Loop's advice for quests you've already completed, just to see what they say about it, when you select text options that are already greyed out because you want and hope and desire there to be more to the conversation...maybe this time? When you do the friend quests again in Act 4 and you don't skip through them because you have a feeling Siffrin will be feeling differently now, and he does, and it's an entirely different experience this time. When you get the Bright Flower and you forget to give it to your party and then you go to talk to the king and see you can offer him the flower? When you bring the flower with you every loop after that just in case there's another person you can give it too and then you realize you can give it to the Head Housemaiden? That's what ISAT is about.

[katyahina]

The 'haired' helmets are strange..

It IS odd how we get to wear the characters' hairstyles, as it is just really unlikely they're scalps! I suppose the explanation is the same as why we are able to completely change upon looking into a mirror at Roundtable's Hold; as long as the Tarnished is guided by Greater Will, they'll have its aid and be transformed into whatever they see fit to keep carrying on! So I think the implication here is that we do, physically, grow the hair of the demigods (or champions) upon trying to tap on their power! I think if GW abandons a Tarnished, or if they abandon it, they lose this 'ability', which our playable character never does, so..

I am not sure whether it is Maliketh's own long mane or also a decoration! I'd like to think the former, in which case, same logic as with hair of Malenia, Godfrey and Radahn applies! Vargram's "hair" definitely is a decoration, and specifically for the purpose of imitating shadowbeasts:

Ensha's armour goes even further and not only gives us a hairdo, but makes us a skeleton:

We even get his power of slight regeneration, similar to Erdtree's normal powers:

All implications considered, I really doubt that this is just how armour looks, especially considering no change in size. We are not 'wearing' the skull, we ARE the skull now fhhsfd And this time the NPC data inside simply exists because Ensha does use NPC code and mechanics. So, we turn into a corpse! Again, should not matter much since as long as we're carried by GW we don't need to eat or sleep or... anything, really. (I'll also die on the hill of the theory that Ensha was one of the deceased Marika's offspring whose Mausoleum crashed and what was left from him crawled out but that's another story fdhfhds)

Here are other instances of hair simply decorating a helm:

Niall is that one guy we fight in Castle Sol, so similarity in this case ALSO checks out! Also cute idea: what if decoration for the helmets of Godrick's Knights IS his own hair? ;-;

That could also be speculated about Redmane Knights, but I feel like it'd be more appropriate for Godrick's. Radahn would be stingy about his amazing lion mane whereas Godrick can not only take body parts but also give them XDDDD yeah yeah terrible whatever

The black hair on Night Cavalry's helmet can be removed, also confirming that in this case it is a decoration. This hair does have interesting flowing animation though! Maybe it IS the hair of Night Cavalry themselves, still having their shadowy energy, but cut and attached again to their own helmets (kind of like Ciaran from DS1 decorated her helmet with her own braid!)

Another case of hair not being actual hair but part of the mask; the way hair is placed, it'd had to grow from like, eyebrows level and face itself or something fdhfdsdfh Maybe this style with braids and grey hair was intended to refer at Godfrey's? Alternatively, what IF their faces are actually furry/animalistic despite otherwise human build, so the hair doubles as fur? We don't see them behind the mask, after all? A food for a thought lol

^ More of 100% 'mask' types of these

The water dancer in blue gave the sword to Malenia's teacher, the blind guy that once sealed the God of Rot himself, and these warriors in blue appear to be following the same philosophy of "ever running water preventing stagnation, so, rot itself" as him! Although this head piece imitates just a follower and not the man himself (as far as we are aware....), perhaps the sentiment is strong enough to give us the hairdo too x) Again, funny enough, it seems to resemble the Lady of the Lake fairy herself!

I suspected the case of 'sharing hair' with Cleanrot Knights too, but upon closer look I can tell it is supposed to be some fabric/rags, rather than hair or hairlike accessory! Probably more efficient to imitate the look with rags rather than something hairlike tbh, considering the lenght of the thing! So I think the design is more meant to represent Malenia's own unhappy fate, with short tuft being the "hair" and the longer tails being the "wings" :

_______________

In conclusion, it is kind of easy to deduce which hair become our actual hair for the time being because of golden grace 'reshaping' us and which hair is just decor! But it is really interesting stuff to think about all the way!

[lovecoree]

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 — 𝐊𝐓𝐇

pairing: painter!tae x black fem!reader

synopsis 🎱: taehyung doesn’t tolerate your attitude, especially when he’s not in his right mind for his next painting. punishing you is the only way for you to know he’s serious about that.

warning: SMUT ! mdni , oral ( m receiving ) , filming ( with consent ofc ) , huge d!ck tae ( yes this is a warning ) , reader is black coded , dom!tae , brat!reader , brat taming , let me know if there’s more !

a/n: this was an anonymous request, also my first time writing smut so it’s probably trash, but hope you enjoy

Taehyung was an amazing artist, the art ideas he had in mind came easily to him, wrist moving swiftly as he painted on a blank canvas, but today was a bad day for Taehyung. He couldn’t seem to stay focus nor come up with ideas that seemed new and interesting. Everything looked the same leaving him more angry and destroying countless of canvases— left ripped or thrown all across the room.

Taehyung was busy mixing up paints in a container with aggression, grey sleeves pushed up and veins protruding on his hands and arms, and glasses on the tip of his nose. He was pouring his anger out on mixing that he didn’t hear your footsteps nearing the door, not until your voice stopped all his movements.

“You’re still going at it” Your voice came out in a sarcastic tone as you took in the sight of the messy room and your boyfriend standing in the middle. Your voice got stuck in your throat when taehyung only turned his head and not his full body, eyes boring into yours as his expression was blank. “What do you want.” His cold tone was nothing new to you, you knew Taehyung can be cold towards you— or anyone when he’s angry about his work not coming out the way he wants it to be, but that doesn’t stop you from letting your true sarcastic comments slip out from time to time.

Your feet thud against the marble floor on purpose as you moved closer towards Taehyung, slightly kicking the half used canvases out of your way. Taehyung hated when you thud your feet, always telling you to pick your feet up when walking. He eyed your movements before slowly looking up at you with an intense look— a warning look that you did not take seriously. First mistake.

Folding your arms over your chest, wearing nothing but Taehyung’s grey shirt that’s oversized on you. “You’ve been in here for five hours, you promised me you’ll only be in here for two hours tae.” Which he did promise, the sincere promise he made right after giving you a kiss. Taehyung sighed as he fully turned his body around to face you. Small container and paint brush still in his hand tightly.

“Y/N sometimes promises are meant to be broken, you’ll be fine. I’m busy.” His blunt comment made you mad as you rolled your eyes. He didn’t tend to be harsh with his choice of words, but the lack of creativity and your sarcastic tone was making him annoyed. “Then why the fuck did you make the promise in the first place tae?” Taehyung jaw clenched as he looked at you with a hard glare. The bratty behavior and talk back is something Taehyung never liked, especially when you cuss. “What I say about cussing?” Taehyung stepped closer to you, towering over your body, but you wouldn’t waver. Second mistake.

“Boy I don’t care what you said, it’s my mouth. Now like I said fuck you make—” The gasp you let out as Taehyung finally broke his calmness, throwing the container of paint and paint brush on the floor— thank god it was washable paint. He gripped your neck pulling your body closer to his as you looked up at him. “Baby I told you I don’t tolerate disrespect or you cussing me out, apologize and I’ll let it slide.” Taehyung’s tone was deep, deep to the point you felt your panties start to dampen.

The look he gave you was telling you to utter something slick again, so what you do? Utter something slick again. “I’m not apologizing for shit.” Third mistake.

“That’s it take it all.” Taehyung groaned deeply glancing down at you as he gripped the back of your neck holding you still as he fucked your mouth. Loud gaging noises was music to his ears. “You look so pretty with my cock down your throat.” He smirked loving the sight of your tears pooling down to your puffy cheeks, spit and precum glistening on your chin and down on the floor, balls slapping on your chin repeatedly from Taehyung’s hard thrust.

“can’t bitch now, can you?” Tilting his head back, gripping the wooden table from behind him tightly as he bucked his hips. You looked up at him as you tried your best to breath out your nose, griping his thick thighs to slow his movements. “Nah, be the brat you wanted to be and take it.”

Taehyung’s girth had your mouth stretching painfully, but you enjoyed it. His tip hit the back of your throat repeatedly as you moaned around his length sending vibrations to taehyung’s cock causing him to moan. “Fuck baby, just like that.” He loved seeing your eyes filled with tears, made him weak in the knees. “S-Shit baby let me record you being good for me, hmm?” You nod your head yes as Taehyung stopped his thrust.

You could finally catch your breath as Taehyung slipped out your sore mouth. Cock drooping low from being to heavy to stand on its own. You hear him unlock his phone and pressing the record button. Gripping the base of his cock you stick out your tongue to let him slap his fat red tip on it. Pretty wet eyelashes blinking up at him as he slide back in, going back to his brutal thrusting.

Taehyung gripped the phone tight as he looked at the camera catching the pornographic scene. Biting his lip trying hard to suppress the smirk seeing you gag around him as he held you in place, nose hitting his freshly shaved pubic bone as he stuffed his cock down your throat. What felt like minutes he finally let go of your head causing you to pull back completely. Taking a huge gasp of air as spit connected from his swollen tip to your now puffy lips.

“You look a mess pretty.” You whimpered looking up at him breathing hard. He wanted to ruin you completely as punishment. Normally he would edge you on, but since you ran your mouth so much he decided to put it to good use. “Cock drunk already?” He slightly tapped your face with his free hand before gripping your jaw to look up at the camera.

“Apologies for being a brat baby and maybe I’ll go gentle.” Your hands rubbed up on his thighs as you looked up at him so pretty. “I-Im sorry for being a brat, it won’t happen a-again tae.” Voice practically raspy from the stretch, Taehyung smiled. “Good girl, finish me off.” He moved his hand from your jaw, allowing you to finally take control. His cock felt heavy in your hands as you jerked him off placing him back in your mouth, bobbing your head back and forth.

“Oh my— fuck you’re amazing.” To be honest this is exactly what Taehyung needed, from all the pent up stress he had today, fucking your throat was the only option in his mind to release it. “Fuck baby I’m close.” Taehyung’s moans turns into whimpers as you pulled away to jerk him off faster sticking out your tongue.

“shitshitshitshit.” Taehyung’s jaw dropped as his eyes rolled back, stomach caving in as thick ropes of his cum splattered all on your tongue, lips and cheeks. You looked pretty to him.

Taehyung turned the recording off, placing his phone on the table behind him. He watched as you scooped the remaining cum off your cheeks and lick your fingers clean.

“You are truly amazing baby.” Helping you up off the floor Taehyung kissed you passionately, tasting his own bittersweet cum. The kiss was sloppy yet loving. “No more distractions, ok?” Placing a harsh slap on your ass you smiled. “Ok.” You giggled as he picked you up bridal style carrying you to y’all shared bedroom.

[lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom]

Does the End Justify the Means?

CX-2 (Clone Assassin) x Reader

Summary- CX-2 never planned on forming a relationship, but once he did he had to protect it. Even if it meant killing hundreds to keep you away from Hemlock.

A/N- SPOILERS FOR THE BAD BATCH FINALE. I feel like people forget that deep down, CX-2 is still a clone being forced to serve the Empire. Maybe I'm delusional though!!! MENTIONS OF BURNS AND TORTURE!!

Word Count- 5,253

"You know, CX-2. There was once a time where I considered scrapping you. The very cloning program that made you..." Hemlock started. "You were hard to control. My methods had little effect on you. Considering you had little to live for, well that didn't help."

CX-2 stood, arms crossed behind his back. He listened intently, staring at the grey border of the wall.

"You were too, hmm. Rebellious should I say?" He walked slow circles around CX-2, studying him. "That was until I found your little secret out." Hemlock laughed at his own wit. "Who knew a medic trainee would have an Assassin Clone falling so hard!" He seemed to think the situation was hilarious.

Silent, CX-2 contemplated killing Hemlock where he stood. It wasn't possible though, he was smarter than that. He probably had a weapon on his beloved as they spoke. Perhaps Scorch was with her now...

He didn't want to think about it, so he didn't. Opting to stare back at the wall again.

"Truly, I created you better than that. The problem with you clones is your loyalty. It would typically disgust me. Though, unlucky for you, this all plays out in my favor." CX-2 swallowed hard at his words.

There were not many things that scared CX-2, but the thought of Hemlock hurting you consumed him. Striking him with a never ending fear.

"You will bring me Omega. Unless, you want an accident to happen. That would be tragic, wouldn't it?" The man asked, taunting the clone. All while fiddling with his gloved hand.

For the first time in many minutes, CX-2 spoke. "I will retrieve the girl."

"Good, I do not doubt your abilities." Hemlock stepped closer, right in The Assassins face. "Dire consequences are at stake..."

CX-2 made sure his next stop was Pabu.

CX-2 had no intentions of forming any friendships, especially not a relationship. You, however, came natural to him. In one of Hemlock's attempts to have complete control over CX-2, a burn was implemented on his waist. He remembers the day vividly, as it was the first time he'd met you.

You were only on Tantiss because of your mother. She worked for the Empire as a medic, a famous doctor of some sort. While you never had the knack for the medical field, you enjoyed helping people. It was in your blood after all.

CX-2 was taken to a special room for clones of high status. You were there by sheer accident. A mishap guided you to his side.

"Uhm, hello sir." You introduced yourself. "I'll be your medic today. What's your name?" You asked, a little nervous to be assessing a clone by yourself. He wore black armor, head still covered. You'd never seen that style before, maybe he was new?

CX-2 just stared up at you, a hard gaze. Out of fear, you started to breathe a little heavier. He could have killed you there and no one would have batted an eye.

"Sir, is something the matter?" You pressed on, trying to mask yourself with professionalism.

He continued to stare, eventually pointing at the chart In your hands.

"Of course, uh. CT-4340?"

CX-2 didn't say a word, just tilted his head. You looked at him with doe eyes. "Are you CT-4340?" you hesitated.

"My code is CX-2." He commanded out, a modulated voice appearing.

You almost jumped at the sound. "I uh, seem to have the wrong chart. I am so sorry, I should get a higher official-"

Under his helmet, CX-2 resisted the urge to roll his eyes. His shoulder dropped, annoyed. This caused his side to jolt. The pain of the burn on him was strong, but he withheld any reaction.

You, on the other hand, seemed to notice the very small twitch his waist gave out. "Where are you hurt?" You asked, the words now flowing with a motive in mind.

CX-2 instinctively started unbuckling his chest piece. You flushed slightly, ashamed you couldn't be more serious in the situation. "Do you need help?" His head rose quickly, falling after looking at you for a second. He didn't respond, just continued to take his upper armor off.

Guess not...

The second you saw his skin, you suppressed a gasp. It looked gruesome, like something had repeatedly been burning him. With a deep breath, you shoved down any lasting fear.

Getting to work, you prepared bacta and bandages.

He was still, almost too still. You'd seen plenty of procedures and medics fixing up clones. There had been wincing, complaining, and fidgeting on lesser injuries. You would have expected tears and need of an anesthetic for any other man. But he was still...

You prayed you didn't hurt him more than he already was. You knew your hands were clumsy with inexperience. If you did, he made no effort to tell you nor pull away.

From then on you saw each other more and more. While your mother made sure you got plenty of experience working on clones, you were extremely busy. Never getting a second to actually talk to CX-2. A particular encounter with a clone in the hangar would change this.

You were helping a trooper with a broken arm- Simply wrapping it to prevent further injury. You crouched down, examining the break.

CX-2 was just passing by, heading to see what his next mission was. He barely took note that a soldier under his command broke an arm. Why would he? Clones die everyday, including ones under CX-2.

He did however take note of you. He recognized you immediately. He surprised himself, why would he care about some medic? He'd never remembered the ones that had worked on him in the past.

At this, he stared at you. He took in your silhouette, something deep down told him to bask in your every feature. So, he did.

Of course you felt the beaming eyes of CX-2. It made you nervous. Was there something on your face? Did you make him mad? It distracted you.

"Ow!" The clone exclaimed in pain, face screwing. He yanked his arm up. It was an accident, you were sure. A response to the pain you caused unintentionally. CX-2 didn't seem to think this when he saw the clone raise his arm to hit you.

It all happened so fast, you didn't have time to lean back or even register what was happening. The next thing you knew was that the unidentified clone was on his back. CX-2 stood over him, a vibroblade at his neck and foot on his chest.

Falling onto your butt, you gasped and regained some sense. "CX-2...."

He slowly turned around to face you. The two of you looked at each other. His hand still expertly rested centimeters from killing the clone.

Adrenaline pumping, you spoke. "it's okay. It was an accident."

He pushed the clone back with his foot, hand raising. With the vibroblade still wielded, he stormed to you. Your heart pumped viciously, though not in fear. If he was going to really hurt you, he would have let the clone hit you.

No, your heart thumped in your ears in anticipation.

He grabbed you by the forearm with his free hand, careful of the blade. He yanked you up, off of your position on the cold floor.

You briefly noticed eyes around the hangar now in your direction. You grew nervous, only at their judgmental looks.

The quickness of it all made your head spin. You stepped out, trying not to fall. His hand still gripped your arm, he stood unmoving. He let you catch your balance, just watching you.

"Excuse me, what is going on here?" A vice admiral questioned, appearing from your left.

CX-2's modulated voice said your name. It was harsh and cold, but you somehow knew it wasn't directed at you. "She is my medic."

"And? What gives you the right to attack a clone for no reason?" The admiral demanded.

CX-2 didn't like being questioned. Before you could get a single word in, CX-2 pulled you with him as he turned to leave the hangar.

"Wha-" You decided not to protest, the man was on some kind of mission. One he had made for himself the second he saw a threat to you.

He guided you two through the complex halls and levels of the lab. You were beyond lost, but he seemed to know where he was going. After a few minutes of paced walking, you stopped him.

"CX-2, where are we going? I don't want to risk getting reprimanded by the admiral." You were cautious, the smallest of complaints could get you reassigned. Tantiss was not for the faint of heart.

"You won't." He would make sure of that. He continued to walk, this time a little slower.

Finally, you found some familiarity in the halls. You noticed he was leading you to the very room you met in. The examining room for special operatives.

He pulled you into the room, making sure the door shut behind him.

"Examine me." He demanded.

You were dumbfounded, "Excuse me?"

CX-2 actually rolled his eyes this time, even when you couldn't see them. In response to your confusion, he removed his left arm's armor.

A gash that went from the top of his shoulder to before his elbow was present. "CX-2..." Your sadden voice spoke.

You didn't actually have clearance to be in that room, nor the supplies. But you worked nevertheless.

"Please, sit." You asked. He followed your instructions immediately, sitting up on the exam bed.

Just as the day you met, you retrieved bacta and med patches. You coated the wound in extra bacta, then prepared the gauze wrap.

"So," You held his arm up gently, starting to wrap it. "How did you get this? Was it your latest mission?" Your hands carefully worked, moving under his arm.

"No." Was all you heard.

"Oh, how did it happen?" You asked, trying to make conversation.

His skin twitched as a subconscious response when you smoothed over it.

"Better if you don't know." He kept his eyes on the wall ahead of him. "Sorry I asked..." You really were. He said nothing.

After a few more moments, you made sure the wrap was steady in place. "I think you're done!" You smiled at him. He dropped his arm at his side.

After, he promptly nodded, but gave little indication on what to do next.

You looked around, feeling a little awkward.

"So... What division are you from?" You tried to ease the tension.

"Project Assassin." He said, being short.

"I haven't heard of that, wha-" He inturpted you. "Tell me about you."

You blinked. You'd only seen this man a dozen times, many of those in passing. Even so, a shot of nerves flowed in you each time. There was something special about him. It was like your heart knew something your brain didn't. You weren't a child though, you knew 'love' was something of fairy tales. That there must be a perfectly rational reason you were feeling this way around him.

"What do you want to know?"

"Everything."

Though, if that were true, why did you sit up next to him and tell him everything?

From that day on, the only medic he allowed to work on him was you. The number of visits varied, depending on how evil Hemlock was feeling. CX-2 tried to hide the backstories from you as much as possible, sometimes even ignoring your questions.

Though, late at night, when he'd sneak into your room, he'd tell you the truth. At first he would listen. Anything you'd tell him, you had his full attention. Then, right before you fell asleep, he'd whisper his secrets.

He'd whisper them to the only person he ever trusted, you. Then, it was your turn to listen.

You cried for him, the pains he had went through. He was the perfect clone in your eyes. The only problem was how stubborn he was, no matter how hard Hemlock tried- you were still the only one who could persuade him.

Despite his grunts of protest, you'd just hold CX-2 some nights. Using your fingers to rake through his hair, cradling his head. You tried you best to give him the comfort he had never experienced before.

Everything was going so well. You would continue your training, he would continue his missions, and at night, you would talk and he would listen. You would spoil him with affections under the nights bask.

Of course, all good things must come to an end.

The day Hemlock found out about you was the worst day of CX-2's life.

CX-2 was called in for a meeting about his next mission, something he was used to. He only received orders from the highest of officials, so seeing Hemlock or Scorch was common.

"I have... a special mission of some sort. One I cannot risk incompletion of." Hemlock began.

CX-2 stood upright, ready for instructions.

"Now, despite what we have tried to instill into you- I do not want you to listen to any other orders. I think this particular mission requires your mindset." His words didn't effect CX-2, he'd heard worse.

"One of your fellow operative has been captured. Alive. I will not accept him risking our organization."

"My orders?" CX-2 asked.

"Find and neutralize him." CX-2 nodded at his words.

"You have 48 hours to kill him." Hemlock walked up to CX-2, arms folded behind his back. "If you fail, that...medic... you are so fond of? She will reap the consequences of what you sow."

It was impossible to cover up the way CX-2 breath hitched. If he didn't have a helmet on, Hemlock would see his eyebrows scrunch in anger.

"Yes, that's right. I know about her." Hemlock said, his voice mocking. "Oh, don't fret my little assassin. She will remain unharmed, that is... unless you fail your duty..."

"I trust you will locate him and rid the republic of any information?" Hemlock taunted.

"Yes sir."

How? How did Hemlock find out about you? He was so careful... He immediately headed to your quarters. Damned everyone else, he pushed through crowds and odd stares.

He banged on the door, fist closed. If you hadn't opened in the next 10 seconds, he'd shoot the door down.

"I'm coming, I'm coming." You 'tsked.'

"Oh, CX-2." You breathed out once you opened the door. Unsure if he was there for pleasantries or business.

He shoved his way past you, pressing the button to close the door shut.

"Wha-" He stormed around your rooms, it was quick considering there were only two. A bedroom and bathroom.

He held his blaster up as he checked every crevice of the room. His eyes glanced back at you quickly to make sure you were still there and alive.

"CX-2." You raised your voice. His head shot your way. "What's happened? You're scaring me..."

He paced up to you, removing his helmet as he walked. "He knows about us." Was all he managed out, throwing his helmet to the floor in favor of grabbing your cheeks gently.

Your face dropped, heart pounding in your ears. "How? I don't understand!" You started to breathe heavily.

"I just had to make sure you were safe." His gloved hands felt cool on your hot skin.

Your mind wandered, what would they do?

"I have to leave now." He said, dropping his hands. "No, wait. You can't just drop that bomb and leave!" You had so many questions, and you didn't want to be left alone freighted.

"I do not have time, if I don't complete my mission he will kill you." Your blood ran cold. "I am so sorry I brought you into this. I should have never stepped between you and that clone." He readied himself to exit the room, turning and putting his helmet back on.

"CX-2!" His shoulders dropped, he stood silent. You walked around to face him.

He let you reach your hands up and lift his helmet off. "I'm not upset at you. I only want more time..."

"I can't."

"I know." At your last words, you pulled him down by the collar of his blacks. Now level, you kiss him. Scared it would be your last.

The few seconds your lips touched felt like an eternity. All the time you needed with him...

Eventually, he pulled away. "I-"

"I know... please be safe..." You asked only one thing of him.

He nodded, placing his helmet back on snug. He then walked out your door, your thoughts consumed with wishes of his safety.

CX-2 would fulfill his mission, killing the compromised Operative. Though, that was only the first time he'd have to leave your grasp to keep you alive...

CX-2 reminded himself why he was currently headed to Pabu. 'Dire consequences are at stake' echoed in his mind.

He would capture Omega. He had no care for the innocent people he might have to kill. In his eyes, all of his actions were justified in the name of your well-being.

He never told you of his endeavors, now being sent on more gruesome missions than ever. He knew you'd be disappointed in him, but he also knew he had to always protect you. No matter the cost.

While expertly leading a fleet of soldiers, the only thing that let CX-2 think straight was you. He filled his mind with memories of your laughter. Of the times you begged him to choose a real name, even when he protested. When you first touched, when you first kissed.

He worried for you until the second he had Omega tied up on his ship.

Even after, he was anticipating his reunion with you. He had the girl, he had what Hemlock wanted. He could see you again.

And he did... Hemlock was consumed with his experiments and testing on Omega. So much he that didn't bother CX-2 for a few days. Oh, it was bliss.

The time you shared reminded you of before anyone knew you were together. You both still had your duties as clone and medic, but spent any free time with each other.

You laid in your bed, a glance at the clock scolded you for being up so late. You paid little mind to it, just enjoying the feeling of CX-2's arms around you.

With your head now buried in his chest, you let your hands wander. Slipping under the top portion of his blacks. He used to shiver reluctantly when you felt his skin, now it seemed like second nature.

You loved tracing his scars, the texture consuming you. While they were painful memories, they were treated with love and tenderness. He looked at his scars and thought of you, how you took care of him so nicely and delicately. Not Hemlock.

A light flickered from his panel brace. The one that rested on your nightstand. It lit up the room, and CX-2 immediately reached for it. he pulled away from you, but was careful to keep a connection with his leg still feeling you.

"I have to go." He said, standing to put his arm and chest armor back on.

While he was always quick and determined when hearing from Hemlock or Scorch, he was frantic here.

"Did something happen?"

"Nothing, do not stress. I love you." He gave you a quick kiss on the lips, and an affectionate rub of your thigh before putting his helmet on and leaving.

You sighed and leaned back when the door closed again. This was slowly becoming the new normal for you. You still savored every spare second you had together...

Just as you rolled over to fall asleep, the door opened. "Did you forg-" You jumped up, almost hitting your head on the baseboard of the bed. It was Scorch.

"Come with me. Now." He grabbed your arm and pulled you rough out of bed.

"Excu-"

"You are under arrest until further assessment." He forcefully put you in handcuffs.

You tried to resist, but put up no real fight in comparison to the trained clone. He grew tired of you and stunned you with his blaster.

You fell unconscious.

"You activated me?" CX-2 asked over Comms, like he would in any other situation.

"It seems we have another problem with our favorite girl." Hemlock said.

Omega...

"You see, she has managed to escape with the other children. Did I mention she also freed the zillo beast?"

CX-2 listened intently, not moving a muscle.

"You have been the only operative capable of capturing Omega thus far. I will see that you will find her again. Before she finds some way to leave the planet." CX-2 could hear the frustration in Hemlocks voice. It made him flicker a smile.

"Affirmative."

"Oh, and as a little motivater, I think it would serve you well to know your medic is currently held up in a cell." Hemlock went radio silent, leaving CX-2 to head to the exposed section of the base. The hole the Zillo beast left, and the way Force 99 was headed.

Your head throbbed, vision a little blurry. Raising your head from the cold of the floor, you noticed you were in a cell.

The room spun around before you sat up. Your whole body ached. Not to mention the confusion you were feeling.

Looking around, you saw other prisoners lining the walls. You knew exactly where you were. The hall where all the traitors and experimental clones were kept.

Were they going to experiment on you too? Was CX-2 okay? Did something happen to him that made Hemlock finally get you?

The building shook with a loud boom, it did nothing to help your nerves. It sounded like some kind of cannon went off.

"You okay?" A clone asked in the cell across from you.

"I don't know..."

With the effort and passion of a man whose entire reason for living was at risk, CX-2 and the other Clone Assasins were able to capture the rouge clones.

With his blaster barred in his hands, CX-2 guarded the three prisoners. He was occupied with the thought of what The Empire was doing to you.

You must have been so scared in a cell... He knew you didn't like small spaces. With his new fury, he closed his fist, doing yet another round of the platform they were on.

Boredom was unable to strike you, anxieties kept you busy. Your mind ran wild with the possibilities of CX-2. For a moment you questioned if he had just abandoned you as a whole, but quickly shunned yourself for bringing it up.

CX-2 loved you, and wouldn't dare leave you to rot.

"Look!" A clone yelled out, just as you saw a small girl and a storm trooper running by.

What were they doing?

They crept around the corner, swiftly blasting and taking out 2 storm troopers in the process. The girl got to work on the main computer that operated the cells.

"Hey kid, whats going on?" Someone asked.

"We're breaking you out."

Seconds later, your cell door opened. You slowly walked out, unsure what to do. What would CX-2 do in a situation like this? He'd probably tell you to keep your head down and blend in. Stay out of trouble, 'for his sake.'

You did just that, creeping out of the cell and hiding within the groups of clones.

Apparently, the 'storm trooper' was a clone, so was the girl. They were on a mission to free their three brothers, recruiting clones as they did so.

Was this the big mission CX-2 was called to? To capture the people they were here to rescue?

"We've checked all the cells, they aren't here."

You knew where they probably were... The training room. The very room that tortured and left your beloved marked. You didn't dare say a word. As much as you hated Hemlock and his 'methods,' worse things would happen if CX-2 failed his mission...

"Well... they could be in the training room." Damn, another clone had though the same as you.

They decided to head there, a few turning for an easier escape.

What should you do? Warn CX-2? You weren't raised as a soldier, you had no training. No fighting experience. You knew how to save and help, not attack and kill.

A small hand was rested on your arm, the girl from earlier. "Hi, I'm Omega."

You looked down to her. "I know it's kind of scary, but we have to fight for what's right.." If only she knew your true intentions...

"You're right... i'll come with you..." All you wanted was to find CX-2.

So, you did. Following them to the training room, they planned an attack from the lower circle.. You, however, had a new idea. To come in through the main balcony. The one that led directly to Force 99.

You managed to sneak away and climb the steps that brought you to the main doors.

"Hey, you! Are you supposed to be here?" A trooper stopped you.

"Yes sir," You gave him your chain code, "I am a medic. Hemlock has requested my services in the Training room." You lied, faking a confidence you never had.

"I never heard about Hemlock ever needing a medic in the training room..."

"Well if you want to ask him, while the Zillo beast is one the loose, he has new prisoners, and while his top experiment is lost- Be my guest. I just don't think he'd be very happy with you questioning his methods." You crossed your arms behind your back, something you'd seen CX-2 do many times.

"Fine." He moved out of your way, letting you head to your destination.

You walked to the door, ready to put your mother's clearance codes in. With a steam they opened, leaving you to witness a terrible sight.

The 3 captured clones were out, fighting. You got there in time to see the big clone burst out of the glass, tackling a special operative.

With the sound of the door, the man with a bandana looked your way. Along with CX-2, who rose swiftly upon seeing you. You distracted him long enough for the clone without a hand to blast him in his side.

You gasped as you watched CX-2 fall in your direction.

With an electrospear in his hand, the bandana man stepped to him. He only managed to zap him once before you ran in.

"No!" Your scream pierced out, you threw yourself onto CX-2. Using your body to cover his.

You didn't care if you died then and there, at least you'd die in CX-2's arms. You'd at least die together...

"No, don't!" You squeezed your eyes shut, prepared for a shock that never came. You felt a weak hand raise from under you to grip your clothes.

Tears streamed down your face violently. Pattering on CX-2's armor.

"You do realize the crimes he has committed..." The man panted out, he was also wounded.

"Please, it was for me... It was all for me..." You sobbed out. "Hemlock threatened my life..." You buried your head in his neck, holding him tightly.

"Hunter, no. We should kill them both now." The handless man spoke.

The man you assumed to be Hunter didn't have time to respond.

"I swear we wont follow you... Hemlock is probably on his way to his private ship... I swear..." Your words were muffled but they understood well enough.

"We are wasting time, lets go." Hunter commanded, the two of them left.

You gave out a whimper, "CX-2... Please... Stay with me." You pried his helmet off. He was in a rough state.

His eyes struggled to focus on one thing, but he still tried to find your face. "It'll be okay, just let me grab a med pack." You went to pull away, but he gripped you tighter.

"Let me.. hold," He coughed, "You.."

"You are not going to die on me. You wouldn't do that to me, would you?" You tried to joke. He shook his head, 'no.'

"Then let me do my job, and help you." He still held you tightly. "Please... you deserve to live..." He let you go.

It was only half a minute, you grabbed a medics kit that was nearby and began patching him up.

Making quick work of taking his armor and blacks off. It reminded you of the first time you'd done this to him. A very similar wound on his waist.

You forced him a pill, and squeezed out as much bacta as you could from its packet.

"Can you roll over for me, baby?" You asked, helping him get on his side.

He complied as much as he could, and you were able to patch up his other side.

"Okay, this will hold you over. I know the closest procedure room, a droid can give you a proper examination." You helped him stand, an arm under his own to keep his balance.

"You'll be okay, we'll be okay..." You whispered praises and words of affirmation to him. The walk was extremely painful for him, you could tell he was hiding most of it from you.

Lucky for both of you, a droid was able to identify where the blast was and give him a proper cleaning of the wound.

He was still woozy, but forced himself to stand. "We have to go. Tarkin is on his way.." CX-2 strained out. He was stubborn and refused any medication that would cloud his mind.

"W-where? Your ship?" You were scared, not just for CX-2, but your futures as well.

He pressed a few buttons on his panel brace as you picked up his helmet.

"Turn left." He instructed you all the way to his ship, even with the pain starting to blur his vision.

The two of you somehow managed to make it to his ship, you opened the door with his panel brace and sat him in the co-pilot's seat.

You clicked away, starting the ship up. Though, you did need some guidance from him.

You had never flown a ship before, but knew you had to take the risk to save CX-2. It was wobbly, but you raised the ship and let Auto-Pilot blast you into hyperspace. It had a set of coordinates in, ones you didn't know the location of.

A groan made you turn to your lovers direction, you were at his side immediately. Crouching down you spoke, "Hey, its okay... We're far away. You can take the pain medication, its just us two."

He peaked open an eye to look at you, his face barred disappointment in himself. Almost like he was a lesser man if he took the meds.

"Take them. If not for yourself, for me." You pulled them from your pocket. He did take them, minutes later he felt the relief.

You took another look at his wound, it was stable for now. You figured that he would need a cleaning and new bandages in a few hours. Hopefully his medkit was fully equipped on his ship. If it was, you'd be able to last many days without needing to land.

You stood, pulling his head to your breast. "Shhh, rest now. We are both safe."

He truly did feel safe in your arms, like he didn't have to always be on guard. A huge change from his normal. One he'd hoped he could live out with you for the rest of his life...

A/N- Thank you so much for reading! I got a little carried away with this one... I just had to get this idea written down!!!

Tags-(lmk if you want to be tagged as well!) @thethreeeyed-raven @knight-of-flowerss @dangraccoon

[kokoch4n3l]

˗ˏˋ stay in my memories ࿐ྂ “‘cause it’s still on my clothes, everything that I own and it makes me feel like dying”

summary: It's been about 10 years since you last saw him. since any of you last saw him. but tonight as you're back from the after-party of Mitsuya's show you walked, Mikey shows up at your apartment. drunk.

notes: based on memories by conan grey. lowkey a self-insert lol. please read the warnings before you read !!

warnings: mentions of past violence, mentions of past sexual relations, toxic relationships, body image issues, oc is skinny!, mentioned/implied eating issues/disorders(ARFID), mentioned and talk of weight issues, alcohol use, weapons(guns), intoxication, Mikey being the bitchass ex that comes back when you're finally healed, insensitive!mikey, not edited

pairing: bonten!mikey x model!oc

word count: 2787

Her back hits the elevator wall as it moves up stories. It’d take a while for her to get to her floor. It was right underneath the penthouse after all. She worked hard for the money so she deserved to live in a nice place like a luxury high-rise building. The penthouse was unoccupied at the time she moved in and the owner had even given her the offer of it but it was huge. The place would go to waste as she lived alone, no longer rooming with Tachibana Hinata who had moved back in with her younger brother. She sighs and stares up the ceiling of the elevator and sighs tiredly. Her body ached but not as much as her feet did in the heels she was wearing. “Fuck” she mumbles and pulls them off her feet

She rolls her ankles as she stands back up straight, holding her heels in one hand. After an obnoxiously long elevator right, she finally reaches her apartment. Typing in the code, she enters and leaves her heels on the rack and locks the door. Her apartment is empty just like it should be. She had gotten used to being alone after middle school ended and everyone was too busy with their lives. It was middle school when Tokyo Manji Gang had disbanded and although she wasn’t a part of the gang(for very obvious reasons), it felt like the world was ending. But that wasn’t the end, a meteorite had crashed down on her when Sano ‘Mikey’ Manjiro cruelly broke her heart a week after the captains buried the time capsule. She never saw him again after that. She didn’t want to. She even declined Kawargi Senju’s request to join Brahman just so she didn’t have to see Mikey. She didn’t care that all of Mikey’s old friends were trying to bring him back or whatever that meant. It wasn’t her problem. Mikey broke her heart and very clearly stated he didn’t want anything to do with her so she wasn’t about to be hard to get rid of. “In today’s news, Japan’s most wanted gang, Bonten, has been—”

She tunes out the news and switches to another channel playing reruns of Naruto. She gets up and heads over to the large floor-to-ceiling windows and draws the curtains open, revealing the vast view of Tokyo in front of her. Another tired sigh leaves her. She’s still in that mini dress Mitsuya made for her for the after-party. Mitsuya held a fashion show for his new line. Many famous people attended and many famous people walked the runway, including her. It was about 5 years ago that Mitsuya had encouraged her to start modelling along with Hakkai. Now both of them were pretty famous. Her life was going pretty well. She had a steady stream of money coming in, multiple brand deals coming her way and she no longer felt like actual shit. So when Mitsuya asked her to be in his show she agreed right away. The show was a success and things were going really well till the end of the after-party when she overheard Mistuya talking to Draken about Mikey not having shown up. They invited Mikey.

Sano fucking Manjiro was a wanted criminal at a high-profile fashion show.

Not to mention that they didn’t even tell her that her ex was invited. 

Sure it had been 10 years and even if she was over it, she’d rather not face him again. It was stupid to her that Mistuya had even wanted to invite Mikey especially since put them all in 2-3 day-long comas 9 years ago. But boys were stupid and they always forgave each other even after the biggest of problems. Her and Mikey’s past relationship was probably just a second thought so she didn’t blame him too much and got over it fast(but that didn’t mean she wasn’t pissed). She ended up leaving the after party a bit earlier which is how she ended up back at her apartment. It’s lonely but thankfully not cold. She should probably take her makeup off or maybe eat something but the kitchen seems to far and the view in front of her— even though she’s seen it a hundred times— was too pretty to look away from. She rests her forehead against the cold glass and sighs, her warm breath creating condensation on the glass. 

BANG BANG BANG

She groans internally. Whoever was the door might as well be kicking it down with how loud and hard they’re knocking on it. She pushes herself off the glass and starts to walk toward her door, passing by the few frames of pictures from her childhood.

Pictures of Emma and Baji. Pictures of Mikey. It had taken her a while to get over him but it had been 10 years and it no longer hurt to look at the pictures. She hadn’t put up the ones with just him and her in them but the group ones instead. She looks through the peephole first and sees no one. She furrows her brows and without thinking opens the door. She takes a few steps back as someone stumbles in. She doesn’t see their face at first. She’s greeted with the strong scent of alcohol and a mop of white hair. “What the—”

Her door is slammed shut and the intruder looks up. Her heart stops. Well not really but it felt like it. There, barged into her apartment was Sano fucking Manjiro. “Hey baby” 

Her heart drops. “Mikey…”

“Uh-huh, it’s me” He brushes past her and walks further into her apartment like he owned the place “Nice place”

She bites harshly at her bottom lip to stop herself from cursing this guy out(which she was going to do until she saw the gun tucked into the back of his pants). “What are you doing here?” She asks, hesitantly following behind him

Mikey heads over to her kitchen and opens her fridge, rummaging through it the same way he would when they were together all these years ago. She watches in silence but also looks around for her phone to either call the police or maybe Draken to come help. “Mistuya invited me to his show… Lost track of time and couldn’t make it” He says and pulls out a bottle of Korean alcohol, peach flavoured Soju

She runs her fingers through her hair. “And what does that have to do with me?” She asks as Mikey slams her fridge door shut and takes a seat on the tiled floor while she stands before him

He unscrews the metal cap and carelessly throws it at her the same way he would when they would go through her dad’s alcohol collection and secretly drink from it when they were together. “Since I missed the show, thought I’d come see the star” Mikey takes a swing and his eyes scan her up and down “Mistuya made that dress f’you, yeah?”

Her heart is beating fast and so hard it’s hurting her ribs. The dress was short. Longer from the back, covering her butt at least but shorter at the front, showing off her long legs as Mitsuya said. It hugged her form with the corset styled lacing at the back of the dress. “Yeah he did…”

There is a moment of silence between them. She needs him to leave. It was so stupid that Mikey was back. Even worse that this guy was cosplaying as Izana. His haired bleached platinum and cut short. He even had that stupid Hanafuda tattoo on the back of his neck. She feels angry but before she could say another, Mikey speaks first “you gained weight… You look good”

She instantly feels sick. “Shut up”

Mikey smirks as he takes a swing from the glass green coloured bottle. “Is that still a sore topic for you? I thought that now that you’re a model you—”

“Please just shut up” She pleads

She’d rather not hear this again. Not after so many years. She used to have a problem with eating. It’s not that she had an issue with how she looked or something like that, she had an issue with food in general. “You’ve got food in your fridge though. You’re eating well” Mikey murmurs, his hand reaching up to hold her thigh “not sickly skinn—”

“Mikey” She mutters clenching her fists “stop it”

Mikey just smiles and it infuriates her. How dare he come back after 10 years and do this? Say this? “Can you leave?”

“No”

“What do you mean, no?”

Mikey is still smiling like nothing is wrong. Through the dim lighting she sees his dark circles and unnecessarily pale skin. He looks like death. “Come sit”

He doesn’t give her much of a choice when he pulls her down. Her knees make contact with the tilted floor making a thud sound and she hisses in pain. Mikey puts the bottle of Soju down next to him and coos gently, putting his hands on her knees and rubs them to ease the sudden pain. “Sorry about that, got carried away” he murmurs, voice all sweet

Now that she’s this close she can smell the alcohol on his and his cologne. Her head spins as Mikey adjusts her position with ease, letting her legs drape over his lap. “You need to leave” She tells him, watching him pick up the Soju again and drink from it, keeping his free hand on her quickly bruising knees, rubbing them

“I don’t think so” Mikey says with a shrug “and it doesn’t look like you want me to leave”

She doesn’t think she’s ever met someone more delusional than him. “No. Actually I want you to leave. You baradged into my house. Get. Out”

“Is that how you treat all your ex-lovers?” Mikey questions, a playful smile on his lips “oh wait, last I heard little miss model has been single since we broke up. Don’t you wanna get back together? Don’t you miss me—”

“Nope”

“You answered pretty fast so I’m guessing that’s a yes”

She pulls her legs away from his lap and scoots back to create some distance between them. Mikey’s eyes darken as she moves away, looking a mixture of disappointed and some other emotion. “I need you to leave” She says more sternly this time 

Mikey just takes another swing of the bottle, giving her the same look as he would when they were younger when he wasn’t in the mood to listen. He was a criminal. A ruthless gangleader who had the country under his boot but here he was drinking her soju on her kitchen floor acting the same way he did when he was 14. “Mikey—”

“Manjiro… You called me Manjiro” He cuts her off it makes her mad

“No, Mikey” She says, trying to make her voice as stern as possible

Mikey raises his brow. “No?” he repeats

“No.”

They both stare at each other for a moment. “Why not?” Mikey asks, his blunt nails taping against the glass of the now half empty bottle in his hand “It’s been 10 years, has anything really changed?”

His eyes are glossy red and pale cheeks a bit flushed. She surprised he isn’t drunk yet. Perhaps he built up his tolerence over the years. She shifts, sitting in a side saddle position on the floor so she didn’t put any more pressure on her still aching knees. “It’s been 10 years” She repeats narrowing her eyes at him “You can’t just come back out of nowhere and expect me to welcome you back with open arms… I’ve made something of myself. You can’t come back out of nowhere and ruin it for me”

She feels so angry. He wasn’t allowed to do this. “Please don’t ruin this for me”

Mikey doesn’t say anything for a moment. He’s just staring at her like he’s oblivious to what she’s saying, like he doesn’t understand what she means. Mikey just takes another gulp of the peach soju and her eye twitches. “You had to show up today to ruin things” She says with anger “I wanted to put you in the past ‘cause what you did traumtized me but you’re not letting me do that!”

Mikey is staring at her like a lost puppy, sipping at the soju like it’s water. “I’ve moved on but you’re back here sitting in my fucking kitchen not listening to a word I’m saying”

It was like talking to a damn wall. Mikey wasn’t listening and going off on a rant would just be her wasting her breath. “Drink” Mikey holds out the bottle to her

She’s angry. So fucking angry but the bottle was her own, bought with her own money when she went to Korea a week ago for a photoshoot so she takes it from him and takes a large gulp. It was bitter for some reason. She can taste cigarettes on the rim which was probably from Mikey and it pissed her off even more. Hours pass and it’s soon 1 am. “Mikey I can’t say goodbye if you stay here the whole night” She tells him

They’re still on her kitchen floor and now on their 3rd bottle. She watches Mikey about to light a cigarette but she slaps the stick out of his hand. “No smoking in my house” she hisses

Mikey frowns but shrugs, stuffing his lighter back into his pocket. “But I don’t wanna leave” he murmurs, reaching out to hold her waist, dragging her closer to him with ease across the tiled floor “I want you back”

Her now completely bruised knees make contact with his the side of his thigh and she puts her hands on his biceps in a poor attempt to either pull away or push back from him. Mikey squeezes her waist for a moment then slides his hands lower to her hips then her bare thighs, squeezing her there. “You know you were pretty when we were younger but you’re even prettier now” He says with a sigh “you look so pretty with the weight gain—”

She digs her nails into his clothed biceps. “I don’t want to talk about that”

Mikey cocks his head to the side. “But ‘m complimenting you”

“I don’t like these kinds of compliments”

“You’re a model” He murmurs, his hands sliding back up to her waist and squeezing again “you shouldn’t have become one if you didn’t like people talking about your body”

“No one talks about my body the way you do” She says with a frown “I don’t like how you do it”

Mikey chuckles lowly. The same condescending way when he dumped her 10 years ago. “That’s not a nice thing to say to the guy that’s trying to woo you back”

“You’re not being nice in the first place. You fucking bardged in” she digs her nails more into his clothed skin but he doesn’t flinch “I promise Mikey, the ending between us will always be the same. There’s no good reason in make believing that we could ever exist again”

Mikey still doesn’t seem to hear her. He simply lets go of her waist and slides away from her. When she thinks he was getting up to leave, he surprises her by laying his head on her bare thighs instead. This was infuriating. “Mikey have you dated anyone since then?”

“Yeah” he says, grabbing one of her hands to put it in his hair “But none of them were pretty like you. No one’s pretty like you…”

She doesn’t say anything. “You don’t wanna get back together but can’t we be friends? I missed you” Mikey says, his voice barely above a whisper this time

He sounds sad but she won’t give in. This wasn’t fair. “I can’t be your friend or your lover” Her voice is a mere whisper this time “I can’t Manjiro”

Not with what he did now— it would be detrimental for her career if the public found out she was friends with Sano Manjiro, the man reining terror of Japan and the surrounding countries little by little— not with how he broke up with her, not with how he talked to her, not with the constant uncertainty of if he’d leave her once again. She wouldn’t put herself through that again. “Manjiro I can’t be the reason we hold back each other from falling in love”

She feels something wet on her thighs. 

Mikey— Manjiro is crying.

She sighs. She might as well let him stay for as long as it takes.

Just till he pulls himself together.

And hopefully, till then, she doesn’t give in.

[just-ornstein]

WHAT THE FUCK IS THE BEAKER CASTLE EVEN - A SimPE Deep Dive

Alright, so after stumbling upon some of the Beta pics on the Russian TheSims.cc site and this analysis post about the Beaker mansion, I became deeply curious if some of this would be reflected in the lot relationships. After all, some characters like Viola, Kelly, on top of several others could be found when digging through the raw and somewhat encrypted code of lots.

By now it's pretty clear that the Beaker home once belonged to this dude and his army of girlfriends (definitely check out the post I mentioned earlier). On top of that Loki (and possibly Circe) seems to have gone through at least two iterations before eventually settling on their final forms.

And on top of that whenever you scan the mansion in a completely new game, you will find fingerprints of primarily deceased Sims everywhere!

Now to get to the Sim relationships on the lot...

712 freaking Sim Relationships, all of which are unknown. Some of which still have stats set such as married, friends, relationship scores, etc. I tried comparing this to other lots in their neighborhood and NONE even come close. Both Olive and the Smiths have around 400. The other lots have below. And the only lots that are even a tad higher in this number are the Capps and the Summerdreams which makes sense when you realise that hood went through at least one other iteration before turning into Veronaville.

Now I wondered if the encrypted code (despite being very hard to read due to being partially encrypted) had any old Sim remnants left in there. And yep, several even. Many of which even have information such as their gender, hair, clothes and age in there. So lemme go over some of them:

1. First one, a guy who's name is partially encrypted so it will never fully be visible. It's not Johnny cause Johnny also has his character file on this lot.

A male teen with brown hair who used to wear the "tmbodyhoodedsweatshirtboardshorts" + the "tmhairhatcap" hairstyle.

2. Second is another teen, this time by the name of Zeeshan. He had black hair, the bucket hat hairstyle and wore the hooded sweatshirt, except with pants this time around (and grey apparently?).

3. The third was an adult male Sim by the name of Kenneth with black hair. Based on his info he was likely meant to be a Gardener Sim.

4. The fourth was one named Kana... Possibly a longer name cause once again the code becomes a bit shambled here. She too was meant to be a Gardener as seen by her outfit and hair data. Her hair would have been brown.

5. Elle, another female Gardener Sim, this one having red hair.

6. Vasyl, an adult male Sim who wore the busdriver outfit. Sadly his hair data seems to be blocked behind the code. For funsies I like to give the name to Bald Beta Loki, since he gives off that vibe. BUT, I think this was an NPC busdriver due to the outfit.

7. Joanne, an adult female Sim with an unknown hair colour in corn rows style and the classy afbodyjacketturtlesweaterdressboots. Sadly her ID is hidden behind the encrypted code, so it's hard to fully make out.

All of these Sims appear to be NPC/Townie Sims. None of them match ANYONE in the Beta pictures. And the current Townies/NPCs seem to have replaced them. Interestingly enough, those that were NPCs are still NPCs and those that were Townies are still Townies. Making me wonder if this is a thing that translates to other Sim IDs too. That Sims that were Townies in earlier iterations are still Townies in their new form. Same for NPCs and yep, Playables. This is merely an assumption I'm making on what I'm finding here, but if anyone can help research this further, that would be greatly appreciated, especially as this could mean the Viola ID may not belong to Viola Monty.

Viola is an odd case cause no outfit, hair or other data can be found in the lot file and she's only ever mentioned once in the context of lines filled with "sleep in pyjamas". But for now I cannot say anything with certainty unless more remnants of these old Sims could be found somewhere. OR, if these files could be read in its entirety which is quite difficult.

It's very hard to get a Sim ID attached to a lot (believe me I tried) and often times seems to rather happen accidentally than intentionally. Moving a Sim out or having a Sim die usually removes the data they once held to that lot. Good example is Loki in my current Strangetown who lived on this lot all of his life and when he died he had no remnants left on this lot.

REGARDLESS! The Beaker lot is ancient and seems to have been ground for a ton of testing, Sims and many more things. No wonder the Beakers got this home with its incredibly shady history. Half of the beta town was partying here!

[1000sunnygo]

Ok so sometimes I see people claiming Oda originally planned for Law to be evil. Did he actually say that? I can't find much on it

This and "Law is Oda's wife's favorite character" ROFL

Videos like this might've been the culprit behind this rumor. Law being 'named after a brutal pirate and allegedly had terrible rumors about him', doesn't equate to "Law was meant to be evil." No matter how canon-coded it seems, something can't be called a "fact" unless there's a legitimate reference. So far, Oda has made no such statement about Law.

The video used a draft image to back the point that Law was depicted as "scheming and manipulative" during Punk Hazard, taken from OP magazine vol. 8:

Sanji's dialogue, roughly: "Your strategy is to go head on against Doflamingo and Kaido, and to weaken Kaido's military strength, isn't it? And we're *in it together* because we believe the outcome benefits us, as well.

What are you planning?

I don't mind going ahead (to Zou), but I won't leave my friends in danger."

Law: Sharp at bargaining, aren't you...

It's not from Punk Hazard, it was Dressrosa.

Not to mention in both draft and finalized versions, it was Sanji cornering Law, not the other way around. IMHO it didn't add or subtract much from law's character as we already know him.

It's very likely that Law was planned to be (more) morally grey and manipulative. But inflating it as Oda's statement makes it a misinformation. This fandom sadly has a lot of these, thanks to engagement farming content creators.

[rin-vana]

⠀⠀⠀⠀───◌┈┈─── ♡ 𝇄 𝇃 𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐋𝐄 𝟕 ┋ 𝐅𝐓. 𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐆𝐄𝐑

⎯⎯ ( 𝙋𝘼𝙄𝙍𝙄𝙉𝙂𝙎 ) : Guitarist!Eren x Single Mom!Reader

⎯⎯ ( 𝙎𝙔𝙉𝙊𝙋𝙎𝙄𝙎 ) : What went from buying baby food for his friend, to stumbling upon a struggling mother, Eren intrigues himself with the woman. What kind of gentleman would he be if he didn't help her out and reep the benefits?

⎯⎯ ( 𝘾.𝙒. ) : Heavily black coded reader, reader is older than Eren so slight age gap, Eren talks in his head a lot, thick coded reader, needy Eren, begging, unprotected sex, lactation (Eren is lowk a perv), nipple play, mutual masterbation (unknowingly), use of nicknames (sweetheart, sweet thing), vocal dirty talker Eren bec that boy can't shut up, reader lives in a 2 story apartment sorta, body worshipping, fully consensual

⎯⎯ ( 𝙒.𝘾. ) : 10,540

⎯⎯ ( 𝙉𝙊𝙏𝙀𝙎 ) : The idea of Eren talking in his head a lot versus verbally came from the amazing @/hellavile who wrote the piece Sketch. The idea resonated with me and literally a light bulb went off in my head like yup, that's so Eren, and I wanted to incorporate that idea into my own writing style bec i had this idea for like 3 years straight but never had the courage or time to write it out until now, and it really made me fall in love with his character in this piece of mine. So enjoy <3

Sex so quick it felt as if it didn't happen. You've been laying in bed for what felt like eternity afterwards because you've grown used to the empty spot beside you after coming back to your senses realizing your boyfriend had up and left while you were asleep, not shocking at all. It was something he had always done to either get weed from a gas station or get IHOP early in the morning, but it felt different, feeling as though it was going to be permanent. It isn't like you haven't had the feeling before, but every part of your intuition was telling you it was. Adding on to your growing headache was your son's wails as the sun's rays hardly peaked through your window, meaning you were forced to get up to tend to him. I'm coming Isaiah, give mommy a minute.

It was still dark in your apartment but you managed to enter your son's room, going over to his crib where he laid in a fit of tears at the ungodly hour of 5 in the morning. You wanted to go back to bed, to forget about where your boyfriend was and taking care of Isaiah, but life had a funny way of not going ways we expect. You pulled your baby out the crib, hoisting him on your hip. Walking to the bathroom was no easy task with a crying little boy throwing a hissy fit at you for not being fed, and he wasn't trying to give you an easy time either. Too much like his father.

”Boy,” you groaned in frustration.”I'mma need you to stop crying so I can clean myself 'n you can be fed. Okay?”

You were talking to him as if he could understand a word you said, but it got him to stop so it didn't linger on your mind much longer than that. You set him down on the counter, undressing him to change his diaper that you did not sign up for when you got pregnant in the first place, the whole process you always found disgusting, but at the end of the day he was your flesh and blood, and somewhat his fathers. Isaiah much resembled you albeit he had your brown skin, but his father's grey, wide eyes and his nose. You couldn't have been happier he got your lips though. As much as you loved him he had absolutely none to save his life.

The process of getting your baby looking right took far too long than you realized, the sun was now fully up at 7:00 in the morning, but you weren't fully up with it. Your bonnet was messily on your head, a few braids spilling out from behind that you had meant to take out today but the world had other plans for you. ”Can you watch your cartoon so I can shower?”

A few babbles left your son's lips, and you took that as an answer not knowing what the hell he said, he was only 10 months old after all, still growing and can't be alone for more than 5 minutes when he's awake.

Your shower was short and getting yourself ready was even shorter. It was gonna be a long day and mentally you just weren't prepared for it.

”Alexa play Clouded by Brent Faiyaz.”

The flat, circular device began playing the song, so you turned off the TV grabbing the rest of your things as well as Isaiah in order to go downstairs while the music softly played in the background. You wanted to forget everything that happened last night, from finding out how much money your boyfriend spent to him selling your things to the mind-numbing sex that lasted longer longer it needed to. It was a lot in one night and you wanted to forget it all over eggs and sausage.

Finally moving downstairs from the loft part of your apartment, you're quick to feel the vibration from your phone and notice a few burnt out cigarettes on the kitchen island. Typical of him. You sat Isaiah in his high chair not too far from you, giving him a little toy to play with to distract him while you read the text message from the sender.

Connie💋 - 7:42 AM

I'm gonna be gone for a bit baby, IDK how long but I wasn't ready to have a kid, I'm sorry and I'll be back when I'm ready.

You knew that was going to be never, so why were you so goddamn frustrated? Not like he was much help anyways, but for him to leave with your money and a baby was heartless, even for him. The fuck is wrong with men. You couldn't help the bubbling rage inside you, but taking it out would only make things worse. Looking into the fridge for something, anything consumable only to find nothing was a big ass slap to the face however.

”Break up with me over text and now eat my damn food? Fucking dipshit,” you heaved the more you stared at your partially empty fridge, then looking back at Isaiah who returned the gaze which big innocent eyes that had not a thought behind them. To the market it is.

With the weather rising, wearing your cotton shorts made of sweatpants material and cropped jacket over nothing but a sports bra was one of the smartest things you've done after fucking with Connie. It was sad to admit your baby looked better than you but it was better than nothing. Getting him into his car seat and pulling off in the direction of your local Giants was silent, but stressful. You had to figure out how you were gonna take care of your baby on your own. Not like you haven't been doing so after Connie showed up to your apartment less and less, but the reality bitch slapped you in the face and you had to deal with it.

You pulled up to the parking lot a little under 15 minutes after leaving your house, getting out to sit in the backseat with Isaiah to give him a quick breastfeed so he would at least not embarrass you in public by crying. It took way too long for your liking to the point where you had to pull him off. ”You can't be eating like that all the time or you gonna be fat like mommy,” you said with the smallest smile looking down at him.

You cleaned yourself up and not too long after that entered the Giants with Isaiah hoisted on your waist again. He played with one of your braids as you chose a cart made for moms like you with small kids, putting him inside the chair that resembled a car seat except with the market's colors. You walked around aimlessly inside, grabbing whatever you needed to make decent meals for yourself and being mindful to grab your son a few things while you were at it. Picking all sorts of frozen meats and fresh vegetables seemed like muscle memory after your mother practically forced you to change your diet for the sake of your baby. It paid off in the end I guess.

You walked down an aisle specific for babies, eyeing all the different toys and miniature furniture made for the smaller humans. You stopped specifically at the section labeled "baby food" looking through each brand and going for whatever looked the most healthiest. You were putting a few of them in your cart one by one until your hand and another's overlapped on the same one accidentally.

”Sorry,” you said rushed to whoever it was, not taking the time to look at them as your hand retracted to grab another bottle.

”You can have it.”

A voice so deep you could've sworn it was an echo and not a real person talking to you. Your face had nearly whipped to whoever it was, eyebrow raising in suspicion at who your hand had brushed against. Standing beside you was a tall looking boy that had brown hair brushing a little past his shoulders, the rest in a very messy bun and stray hairs sprawled across his face. He was young, that much you could tell just from what felt like forever staring at him, but his voice made him sound as if it was aged like fine wine.

”Oh- um.. thank you.”

”Do you always stare?” The question alone caught you off guard, stepping back a little to really get a good look at him. He was wearing a white simple baggy t-shirt messily tucked into black capri pants and black adidas. He had a few bits of jewelry here and there, a thin gold necklace dangling over his chest and a matching gold bracelet to go with it. He not bad looking.

”I don't always stare, jus' in my head.” That was a lie. You were staring at the poor boy longer than any stranger would have, but your ego would never allow you to admit that. Isaiah seemed to have a way of telling when your attention wasn't fully on him because he made a loud noise that partially startled you. You turned towards him to silence him a little by giving him something random in your jacket pocket which happened to be a toy car that somehow got in there.

”I take it he's a handful,” the boy spoke again, looking at Isaiah who is in his seat and smiling at the brown haired male. He returned to looking at you who then looked at him again, smiling awkwardly at that but at the end of the day you couldn't care less. ”He can be but I got it.” No the hell you don't.

The pale boy was staring at you for a little, eyeing you up and down once or twice to get a good at your little get-up. He took in every detail as slowly as possible, carving the image of your shorts riding up exposing your thighs, the cleavage your jacket zipper revealed and the ink you have on your left thigh into his head. To be honest you felt like his gaze was swallowing you whole, so you had to break the eye contact otherwise your body temperature would rise. ”Where's your boyfriend to help you?”

”He's deadbeat and gone.” You scoffed at the mere mention of him, grabbing baby formula and tossing it into the cart suddenly feeling your emotions of anger return from earlier. You noticed how the tall boy's eyes seemed to widen before relaxing to the lazy look he had before, his body now facing you entirely.

His voice was smooth and calm as he spoke. ”Sorry to hear that then.”

”It's no problem honestly, the only good thing the bit- I mean he did leave me is Isaiah here.” You smiled with the words you spoke. Sure you may have hated Connie's guts and wanted nothing more than to beat the shit out of him, but you're happy with your baby nonetheless.

After a semi-long silence of you both skimming over the isle one last time, you decided to speak again with inquiry in your tone. ”I didn't get your nam-”

”Eren.” He beat you to it, his body seeming much closer than before because you could feel his body heat radiating off of him, as well as the faint smell of natural forest lurking the more you breathed in and out your nose. It was intoxicating.

”⌈name⌋.” You replied somewhat shortly after, having the silence engulf you until you got tired of it. ”Do you mind.. helping me with this? Like– moving it into my car or somethin'?”

Eren pondered in his head, his deadpan expression boring into yours as his brain seemed to think of a proper response. He did want to help, you looked so small and fragile like you could break at any moment, and yet he liked it. You needed his help even if you've only known each other for 5 minutes. A hum resonated deep within his chest, vibrating his entire being as he prolonged his answer, the reason being seeing your face impatiently wait for a reply.

You want me to say yes don't you? You're giving it away. ”I'll help. Got nothing better to do.”

Your lips curved upwards into a smile again, your body turning to your cart with Isaiah who was gnawing at his own fingers and eyeing Eren as he began following behind you with his basket in tow full of his own food.

”I really appreciate the help, Eren. I probably woulda struggled on my own.” You spoke and giggled at the same time, but the brown haired boy walking beside you was in his own world of thoughts that were slightly muted in the back of his head.

”It's no problem.”

”Can I ask why you got baby food? You got a girlfriend at home?”

Curious now. We just met.

”Nah,” he replied shortly, turning his head slightly down to look at you as you kept walking forward. ”For a friend of mine. Having his own kid 'n he asked me to buy it for him.”

”So you just helping everybody.”

Eren smiled when you finally looked at him. ”In a way, yes. I don't mind doing it 'cause it's nice watching them from the sidelines.”

”So then why don't you have a girlfriend?”

He thought about it for a minute, his relaxed face seeming so close and so far to yours at the same time, the strong eye contact not being dared to be broken by either of you. It was obvious there was some unspoken tension in the air the more you looked at each other and the more you awaited Eren's answer.

”Never really found time for one.”

Your eyebrows rose and your head tilted to the right a little. ”Is that your real answer or somethin' you made up?”

Do that again. ”You'd have to find out for yourself.”

You finally broke the never ending eye contact that had you in a chokehold, walking forward quicker as to hide your face. Not like any blush would show up regardless but you could definitely feel your face getting hot just from the closeness of your bodies.

With you walking so fast Eren opted to take his time to grab anything else he might need, but the conversation was stuck in his head. He played with the bracelet on his wrist catching up to where you stood now in the snack aisle grabbing all sorts of chips. You felt his eyes on you again but couldn't look at him.

You want to look at me don't you? Why don't you do it?

”Miss ⌈name⌋—”

”Uh-uh boy that make me sound older than what I am.” You both shared a laugh, his somewhat quiet, yours a little louder. Isaiah joined in on the noise making by throwing his toy out the seat. You were about to grab it but Eren got it before you could, handing it to your son who babbled more nonsense.

You need someone to help you with him. I can tell but it's fine. Take all the time you need to ask. ”Then, ⌈name⌋, how old are you?”

You turn to smile at him again, teasing him almost. ”You know it's rude to ask a woman her age right?”

”I'm just curious.”

Eren leaned on the opposite side of the cart where Isaiah was sitting, supporting himself on his elbows and eyeing you as you grabbed more things.

”Late twenties.”

”Not even an exact number but you can ask me about my relationship status?” His grin was nothing short of mischievous and teasing, his nose scrunched and releasing a little at the end of his sentence. ”If it's gonna be like then I'm only in my early 20s.”

You quirked an eyebrow at him. ”How early?”

So now you're interested again. What if I make you guess.

”That's something you'll also have to figure out.”

”Stop playing with me,” you laughed to shield your embarrassment from him.

Your little shopping trip went longer than expected thanks to your new found acquaintance. Even if Eren was like a minx he managed to help you as he promised, putting bag after bag in the trunk of your 2015 BMW. It was like nothing for him to lift and honestly it was a turn on. His hand easily grabbed 5 bags at once.

Isaiah was already sitting in the car while the two of you stood outside in the humid air. ”Thank you for the help 'cause I don't know how I've been doing it on my own.”

Eren's lips raise at that, his face showing contemptment. ”Then should I give you my number to continue my "helping"?”

His voice dropped an entire octave as if it was mocking you. You had to readjust your stance in order to respond properly, confidently at that. ”No, you can wait for it though.”

You giggled when his expressions changed to a shocked one as you unlocked your car and sat inside it, starting it at the same time.

”Then how will I find you if I can't contact you?”

She's going to raise her eyebrow again.

You raised your eyebrow at him, long nails hovering over the steering wheel as you looked at him. ”You live around here right?”

”Well, yes, but—”

”Then we'll run into each other eventually.”

Eventually turned into a week because soon enough you ran out of food from eating like a mad woman. Everything in you didn't want to go out, wanting so badly to stay laying on the couch with Isaiah in his playpen in his own little world while you caught up on your shows. Your ankles were swollen from overdoing it the past few days that walking in itself felt like a chore. Maybe I should call him—

Oh, right. You didn't have his phone number.

So now here you were at the same market as last week, grabbing damn near the same thing until this time in the snack aisle you saw the same silhouette as before. Eren this time was wearing a sage green long sleeve loose shirt, however the sleeves pulled up a little below his elbows and light grey pants accompanied with some green and white vans.

What caught you off guard was the glasses on his face. ”You ain't tell me you wear glasses.”

Eren looked up slowly from his bent down position eyeing whatever large bag of chips he was looking at. The same grin he had from last week was on his face when he saw you. Assuming she needs my number.

”I don't actually, these are fake ones that I wear from time to time. But, you didn't tell me you wear sexy maxi dresses on Thursdays.”

Eren watched as you looked down to eye yourself, attempting to flip your now new hairstyle of your wig that looked somewhat styled. The hair seemed to engulf your head almost, but it made you look endearing. You were fogging his head now, pretty woman.

”I don't usually, but I decided to look nice. You don't like it?”

Eren chuckled. ”When did I suggest that? You look beautiful sweetheart.”

You felt your face heat up again and your stomach turn. Why was heat growing in your stomach over a small nickname. Your laugh felt forced and breathy to him, and his smirk only grew in size the more you seemed to shy away. ”So we’re doin' nicknames now.”

You're shy over a few words. You didn't get treated well by him didn't you? He made you so upset. I'll take care of you. ”We can if that's what you'd like.”

He was seriously messing with you. He knew that. He loved how you tried to take little steps to hide from his eyes, he loved how you played with your hands the more the silence dragged on, he especially loved his view.

”That is a one time thing.” You finally spoke, your tone a little broken but it's the best you could do. You felt hot and trapped in your own body, this hasn't happened since your first month of dating Connie.

”Don't like it sweetheart?”

Damn his smirk.

”That's enough out of you Eren.” You were bluffing out your ass at this point, moving on to another aisle but he just had to follow you. He was driving you mad at that point. ”You gonna give me a headache if you keep going.”

I'm sure you won't. You want me to keep going sweet girl. ”But you need my help, right?”

You inhaled deeply before you spoke, turning your head to face him. ”Yeah I might just ask another guy for help if you keep that up.”

Eren's face contorted into surprise, allowing his emotion to show through his face. You wouldn't dare. He moved himself closer to you, his arms crossing with his basket in hand, his face suddenly moving so close you forgot you had to breathe for a second. ”Would you really do that? My heart would be so broken.”

You rolled your eyes and put a hand on his chest, pushing him away slightly leaving him to let out such a sweet, deep laugh. It made you wonder if he was really younger than you or not. You continued walking towards the check out area, getting in a random line with Eren beside you whose eyes were staring so hard you could feel it. I'm just admiring, he told himself, but that was a lie. He couldn't help but to stare at the way your dress hugged your body and how it seemed so soft to the touch, how it developed after your pregnancy, how, if he stood close enough, your behind would be on him and your head on his chest, looking like a real c—

”Eren you're next.”

The boy let his mind wander too far for his own good and he didn't so much as realize it. He just nodded at you, his voice stuck in his throat as he put his own basket of groceries on the conveyor belt. You noticed how he got quiet all of a sudden, giving your son some attention while you waited for him. It wasn't until he finally paid that he looked you in the eyes again, then noticeably trailed his gaze down to your cleavage.

You felt hot again under his gaze, clearing your throat to make him stop. What's with the tension? you ask yourself, walking side by side with him. ”Is something wrong? You staring harder than I did when I first saw you.”

It was meant to be a little funny, you even smiled and was about to force a laugh, but Eren wasn't smiling at all. His face had greed written all over it, and he was well aware of it too. His eyes were more relaxed, lips downturned in a frown. He decided to play along and let a miniscule laugh leave his throat, but his eyes were stuck on you.

”The only thing wrong is how I don't have your number yet,” he finally replied, to which your eyes doubled a little.

You both were standing at your car by time he finished his declaration. Jus' smile 'n laugh it off. You lowered your head smiling like a little school girl, digging in your purse to find your phone and handed it over to him, shifting impatiently as he typed in the digits slowly as if he were messing with you. He handed the phone back over allowing you to see what he put himself as.

”"Personal shopper" with a green heart emoji?”

”Yeah, like that one Nicki Minaj song? It was piggy.. something.”

You smiled even wider. ”Itty bitty piggy? What you know about that?”

Eren's face looked as if he had won a million dollars with the way he gazed upon you, looking happy and all. ”I just know it's by her.. but it seemed to impress you enough.”

You couldn't help yourself. Him going from being a seductive little shit to being adorable wasn't what you were used to. Sure you and Connie had your moments but it hasn't made you feel as strong as now.

”You're going to call me, right?” You questioned him, not knowing 100% if you both had something solid or it was just a few lucky times of meeting. Seeing him hold out his pinkie however took you by surprise.

”I can pinkie promise on it.”

”Are you a five year old?”

With your protests and his coercion, you locked pinkies with him anyway, getting in your car afterwards sealing your departure from one another. Getting home with so much on your mind from today was like being a deer in headlights, and Isaiah wasn't making it easy either with his fits of wanting whatever he wanted at the time.

It was quiet. A feeling that felt foreign after your long day. Your son had already gone to sleep after being fed, so it was almost eerie. It doesn't make sense because you've been living like this frequently after Connie came around less, but having the presence of someone physically there is always better. You were mindlessly scrolling on your phone looking for better things to occupy yourself with, going as far as going through your YouTube playlist because the silence was overbearing.

”It's quiet isn't it,” Eren says, standing not too far from the bed, his face solemn as he sits in his black bean bag, tweaking with the tuning pegs of his guitar, headphones loosely on his shoulders. His eyes are closed as he imagines a melody in his head, one simple that flows and is easy to register as calming. His fingers are finding their way to the strings of the instrument, strumming them softly. His mouth curls into a smile the more his imagination vividly shifts to the guitar suddenly being you, plush thighs enveloping his slender fingers the more he strokes it, a song coming from your lips.

You hum along to the song of choice playing from your phone, allowing the notes to leave your lips as pleasure seeps through your body. Enjoyment taking over your entire being as the music continues, body writhing around more to get comfortable, eyes shut to enjoy the feeling even more of the euphorium that seems to spread. Your fingers try so hard to stop the adrenaline building but they disobey your mind, rubbing at your bud so hopelessly you can't help but to imagine it was Connie that was helping you. His heavy breaths fanning over your face, his body behind yours as you're sprawled across his lap trying to reach your peak.

I'll help you ride out this tune, He says to you. His long fingers are reaching spots inside you, making you cry out an even sweeter song. His long hair— Connie doesn't have long hair, — A strong build is supporting you as you stuff yourself with your fingers. Eren continues moving his digits, curling them to make you emit a wonderful symphony from your lips. He meticulously moves the end of his fingers, head tilted back against the fabric as sweat builds up all over his body, the song becoming so much for him it corrupts his mind almost.

You're trying so hard to submit yourself to your imagination, biting your lip to stop yourself from becoming too loud but you only get louder, back arched from the warmth he provided, his turquoise colored eyes peering down at you, watching your face contort. Connie doesn't have turquoise eyes though, nor brunette hair. Eren. He's on your mind when you feel the most pleasure you've given yourself in a while. Is it wrong? To think of him right after you get his number? You want to say it's wrong, but the sound of lewd squechling clouds your mind the more your fingers feel more like what you imagine to be his.

Brushing against your clit just barely and you're already teary eyed. Your eyes are screwed shut, his hands holding you firmly. He's keeping you down to keep his own composure, stroking and stroking, getting you so close. His lips are parted as he can see you reaching your peak, your ecstasy, as your pretty moans get louder and louder—

You open your eyes to your fingers being coated in your slick, no longer seeing the long strands of brown hair clouding your view, nor feeling the firm front side of him behind you. Your mind echoed Connie, but your body felt someone else, someone who's been in your mind ever since you gave yourself time to think. He's ruining your body and you're allowing it. Your bonnet was now halfway off after being lost in your head, braids sprawled across your sheets, earbuds no longer connected to your ears playing the slow songs you absorbed yourself to.

Eren's jaw is slack, his eyes finally opening from whatever euphoria he got himself into based on your image in his head. He looked down at himself, his shirt slightly raised revealing his v-line, but moreover there was an obvious outline of his erection showing in his sweats. You got me like this. His hair is a mess and his body temperature is different from before, but all he can do is just sit there, that is until he got the idea to call you. He already decided that he wanted you, that he wanted to be the one you could depend on. The brunette grabbed his phone at the thought, opening his phone to the keypad where he typed your number that he managed to memorize after seeing it from your phone.

Personal shopper💚 - 5:27 PM

Can I call you?

You felt the vibrations of your phone at the notification, and looking at your screen you see it was Eren who texted you. You hadn't expected him to ask to call you, but who were you to deny him. Not like you weren't just imagining having sex with him. Your fingers typed away at the screen, replying with a short "sure" and waiting for him to call you, not expecting him to do so immediately. ”Hey Eren.”

”Hey– hope I didn't catch you at a bad time.”

”No not at all actually,” you couldn't hide the smile on your face, why were you getting so riled up over a phone call?

”You sure?,” he breathily laughed midway. ”You sound groggy and out of breath.”

”Isaiah was wearing me out. I should be askin' you that though. What are you doing?” Was it obvious? Did you sound that out of breath? Would he figure out you were touching yourself to him? It was an erotic idea for him to guide you through the phon—

”Oh. 'M not doing anything besides messing with my guitar, nothin' special.” Liar.

”You play?” You couldn't hide the surprise in your tone. You were intrigued and there was no hiding it. You sat up in your bed as if he could physically see he had your full attention.

Eren liked the tone of your voice resonating in his ears, it got him in a better mood even. Aren't you cute. ”Not as much but I can play a decent song when I feel like it.”

”Can you do a song for me then?”

”Haven't played for anyone in a while–”

”But would you do it for me?” You may have been pressing him a little, but your curiosity was getting the better of you and you liked how shy he sounded.

The line on the other end went silent as he contemplated in his head, but it didn't last long. ”Mmm,” he sounded. ”I'll think about it.”

”Can you think quicker?”

You both shared a laugh, one that sounded genuine and filled the silence that was once present. Any awkward feelings were left behind the more you talked, swinging your legs back and forth when you turned to lay on your stomach. You could hear shuffling from Eren's end and heard the sound of sheets ruffling, assuming he was in bed.

”What do I get in return for doing this exactly?” Think real hard about how you're going to repay me and I might give you what you want.

”Would inviting you over work? 'cause I'm not gonna have Isaiah on saturday.” You figured the timing couldn't be better, and you wanted to see him outside of the market. Being a little selfish never hurt, and it's not like you're in a relationship anymore.

Eren smiled despite you not being able to see it, eyeing the instrument beside his bed. ”Works for me. I'll finish the song for you by then.” You're going to do it again.

You raised your eyebrow, a puff of air coming out your nose. ”A song for me? You'd do that?”

”Since you asked like a sweetheart I figured why not.” He was going to be the death of you.

”You stay playin' too much.” You had to play it off otherwise you would've felt your body hot. You weren't easy to crack but this white boy was doing wonders to you for no reason.

He smiled imagining your reaction, eyes relaxed as he focused on the sound of your voice. It'll sound even sweeter soon. Make sure you forget about your ex.

”I'll see you in a few days then.”

”I'll be looking forward to my song then Eren.”

The wait felt like forever actually. The week couldn't have gone by fast enough and you were growing restless, even though you two have been talking in between. Working didn't help either and you were anticipating the time you two were going to spend together. You managed to always work yourself up over small, or big things, making it one of the biggest stresses until it's solved. Right now, your stress is him. Of course not hearing back from your ex at all was worrying at some points, but you knew it was coming eventually, and now have a better distraction from all that.

Once saturday did finally roll around was when you dolled yourself up more than usual. You got to take your braids out thanks to boredom and styled it completely differently, putting on your best lashes and smearing minor hints of makeup on your face. Was it a lot for one guy? Possibly, but it passed the time.

It wasn't long before the doorbell rang, and opening it revealed Eren with a large black case in the shape of a guitar slung across his shoulder. He looked down at you, a smug smile across his face and lidded eyes that hadn't the slightest expression behind them. He was hard to read sometimes. You let him inside your home, not that big but still bright and open.

”Y'have a nice place,” Eren commented dryly, stepping inside and taking off his shoes at the front door.

”I decorated a majority of it. A woman's touch was all it needed to look nice.” It was meant as a funny comment, but his face remained as stoic as ever. Did something happen?

His body had approached yours, and suddenly you felt intimidated by how close he was. Eren leaned down slightly in order to get closer, looking you up and down and intaking every bit of you. You were wearing a dress that stopped at your mid-thigh, the cleavage being low but you threw on those cropped hoodies that stopped at your breasts so even still you were somewhat exposed, and the sight was in his face. ”So your ex didn't help?”

Eren finally stepped away from you after he spoke, following the open floor plan to your living room, sitting on your sofa with you following behind, sitting near him but keeping a bit of a distance. ”He didn't but he wouldn't 've helped that much anyways. But, how have you been?”

You made yourself sound as polite as possible, and to Eren he couldn't fight back his lips curling upwards, his hair flowing with him. It wasn't in the man bun, it was more like a half-up half-down style with a small ponytail and instead of strands sitting on his face, his hair was more free. ”Decent, getting by. How about you?”

”I could say the same. With Isaiah at his grandmother's I can get some peace.”

I could've helped. ”I was wondering why it was so quiet in here,” he commented.

Eren began pulling out the guitar from the bag, and it seemed so small compared to his larger build but you knew it'd be big if it were you that was playing. He flung the strap around his head and positioned himself comfortably on your couch, leaning back and spreading his legs partially. Is he trying to get under your skin on purpose?

”It took me a bit but hope you like it.”

”I'm sure I will.”

He was hesitant, that was blatantly clear enough. His fingers were still against the strings of the guitar and his face looked uneasy with the amount of times he readjusted himself. He knew he was taking too long to start which is why he said something. ”Sorry, like I said, haven't played for someone else in a while.”

”Take your time then,” you reassured him, placing your hand on his shoulder and rubbing lightly. His body was tense underneath when you first touched him, but he let himself go the more you rubbed.

He finally began tugging at the thin strings, a gentle sound emitting from the instrument that filled the silence. His eyes were fixated on the guitar, but yours were stuck on his face. Did he always have that dimple on his left cheek? You were almost lost in his features until the tune registered in your ears. It was soft, a higher pitch on some parts, but it became a slow melody after that. He was actually good. You found yourself bobbing your head a little to it, glancing at the way Eren's fingers gently struck the instrument, how they seemed to so easily know what note to hit, how to direct the tips of them. Did he always have long fingers like that?

You're so dumbfounded at the features you didn't allow yourself to notice before that you didn't see how Eren was now looking at you, contempt with the way your eyes were glued to his hands, and feeling at ease with your hand still on him. It's not the silence he was expecting but he'd take it if it meant you were right there.

Your hands are moving up, it has him a little nervous and even tense but he seems to melt like putty when you stroke his hair just once. His bottom lip is a little tucked in and the tune of his little song quickened, but his eyes are practically burning into your face the longer you look away, and you enjoy it. You felt the power you had in the situation, making him wait longer than he had to. The tension is already becoming suffocating, and you can hardly hold eye contact for shit, but you want to so badly. You're giving in faster than you can think about it, meeting his eyes feeling like you were in a fever dream.

”You're really good at it.”

Eren had to force a small, breathless laugh to even respond. ”You had me worried with how quiet you were.”

”Just keep playing.”

And that he did. For once he was the first to look away and concentrate on his guitar while you stared like a fucking creep when you just couldn't stop yourself. You were drinking every bit of his features including the softness of his hair. He's trying so hard to avoid your face, but you touching him was making him shift. Wanna fuck me so bad huh. You're touching him in all the right places, your fingers with acrylics on them gliding to his mid-thigh the more he plays, the song becoming much lower. He can't help but look at you now. Not with the way you're practically begging for his dick like a greedy whore.

”Y'really know how to tease someone,” he rasps, voice low at how close yall were. Your plump lips were curved upwards in a sly smile, suddenly retracting your hands as if you weren't all over him. You raise a brow at him as if he hasn't done that to you. ”I have experience.”

There you go again. The guitar is long forgotten by now, leaning against your couch. His body is turned towards yours, his build feeling oppressive with the way it towers over you, and you love it. His arm is rested against the back of the sofa, the other one suddenly grabbing your hand it nearly brings you from your senses. He's putting it on his chest, sliding it up and down his body and now you're melting.

”Can ya show me that experience 'cause right now I wanna kiss you so fuckin' bad.”

You're giving in to him as soon as he gets the words out his mouth, pressing your lips against his and taking control of your own hands again by running them all over his body. Eren isn't hesitant to do the same, pulling you forward so it's skin against skin. He's too shy to admit he likes the contrast of tones and even more shy to admit that he's giving in to every bit of you. His mouth fits like a puzzle against yours and it's over when your tongue brushed against his lips, he's already parting them to allow his own tongue to further itself inside your mouth.

Saliva dribbled down his chin and it felt too soon when you both departed to regain oxygen, his pupils blown with clear need. His cheeks are five shades of red just from a kiss and it has you rubbing your thighs together. ”Touch me, please,” you mumble in between the exchange of spit. He's doing as you said obediently, a different kind of feeling running through your body at his hands roaming your curves and the fact that he listened.

Soon enough you're letting out sounds you hadn't made genuinely in what felt like forever, pulling away from his face to catch your breath. It gave you time to really think, to really process what was going on. You've only known Eren for like two weeks and you're all over him. There's doubt in your face the more you pull away, wiping your wet mouth the longer you avoid his eyes, the same ones you've dreamed about while fucking yourself.

Eren couldn't let this chance pass, not when he had you like this. Lips swollen and damn near straddling him. Not yet, don't stop baby, please, need you right now. He's intertwining his hand into yours, fingers curling in between your own so he can pull you back towards him. It was gentle, a stark contrast to before but it had you back in his embrace instantly. ”C'mon, lemme take care of you. You deserve it so much.”

”You want it that bad with me?” You couldn't help but inquire, searching his face for bits of truth because the last thing you'd want is to be used again. You were scared.

He suddenly lifted you from the couch after scooping you up by the ass into his arms, holding you up by the underside of your thighs. ”Do you really–”

”Fuck, yes, been wanting it from ya for a while.” Let me fuck you how you deserve to be fucked. Eren's lips are on yours again as he walked, carrying you upstairs until your back suddenly hit a wall. Your tongues are practically dancing with each other. Your breath hot and so damn rigged. His body is pressed against yours so close you can feel something hard against your leg. His chest heaving up and down. He's keeping you up far enough just to kiss you deep enough. Fuck he's taking over your damn mind.

”Which way,” he paused just to kiss you again. ”..is your room.”

”Door on the left.”

You're out of breath but you still want more which is a damn shame. You can feel your panties become soiled the more you try to move in his grasp. He's already opening your door by then and carefully laying you on your mattress, hovering above your body and looking so far into your eyes you're sure he knows every bit of thought you've had about him.

Your hands are moving on their own traveling up his shirt, tugging at it eagerly to get him to take it off. Eren can't help but grin at this, helping you pull his shirt off and toss it somewhere, but he eyed your dress as if he hated it. ”Y'want me to take it off?” He asked as he eyed you further, hands sliding up your waist and following the outline of your body until you said yes. He pulled it off you and as soon as he did he pulled down your bra. ”Eren wait—”

”I can't wait anymore, need to have you. Please let me [name].” Eren's eyes met yours and every bit of logical thinking got thrown out the window. He looked so damn needy with his hair tussle and swollen lips, hands not stopping the constant kneeding to your thick flesh, all of which he's trying not to get carried away in. His eyes look a much darker shade of turquoise, and in that moment you felt like he'd tear you apart the more he looked at you. ”Go ahead, 'n try not to disappoint me.”

”I don't plan on keeping you bored,” and as quick as he finished his lips latched on to your nipple, a choked whine leaving your mouth because his mouth felt so wet and warm against your skin it was addictive. He kept flicking his tongue and sucking eagerly while undressing himself, and seeing the imprint in his boxers made you whine even more. You needed him, falling into his trap of touches and harsh licks, your thighs locking around his waist to grind yourself on him.

”I know baby, I wanna lose myself to you too, but there's something I wanna try.”

”And what's that?”

He answered your question by placing his mouth on your other nipple. Your mind was in a daze at the built up pressure of your chest suddenly feeling relief and it only then hit you what he wanted to try. He was milking your breasts fucking dry and you were more turned on by it. You had to rub your cunt against him, the ache was becoming unbearable because of the mess he was making on your chest. ”Eren, shit, Eren please, I can't take anymore waiting, need you in me.”

He let go of your nipple with a pop sound resonating in your ears, his mouth a complete mess from indulging himself in his filthy fantasy of sucking your tits and getting something out of them. Really it was something he should've been embarrassed about but thinking of the way your body reacted to it didn't help, he needed you in his mouth, in his hold. He can't let another second pass by where you're not near him chanting his name.

”I wanna savor this a little longer [name], be a little patient with me.”

You're nodding along and even still he sends a firm slap to the side of your thigh where your tattoo is and a small yelp leaves your mouth that distracts you long enough so he can finally pull down his boxers. His length springs free from its confinement and you can't help but let your jaw slack a little.

”God you're bigger than I imagined.”

You thought about us fucking haven't you. ”You've imagined my size?” He lets out a small chuckle.

”Don't get too cocky,” you responded, but Eren wasn't going to let your comments slide, yanking your underwear down your thighs and throwing them across the room, eyeing your mound having a starved haze over it. It wasn't enough for him though, he's greedy and selfish with what he wants.

”Spread your legs,” he orders and you can feel the heat rush to your face, spreading yourself open until his hand pushes your thighs back further, having your pussy sprawled out for him like a meal. His eyes are locked on to how wet you were, reaching a hand down to allow his fingers to spread you more. You couldn't help but giggle at his enthralment, keeping yourself open for him, wiggling your hips just a bit. His fingers spread your puffy lips open and it was then he lost it. Your cute hole fluttered open as more of your slick coated your inner thighs, your clit poking out just for him.

Eren finally began to line himself up to your cunt, lightning sparks in your body the longer he looked at you and the more he rubbed his tip against your already engorged clit, a moan withdrawing from your throat.

”You gonna let me in sweet thing?” You shuddered as goosebumps appeared on your skin, nodding your head slowly because coming up with a coherent response felt impossible. He lowered his head towards your neck, biting and kissing and suckling on your skin as he finally eased the tip inside you.

”Ng..ghh fuck,” you inhaled sharply the more he pushed on, but he suddenly stopped and you whined despite feeling so damn full already. You can feel his breath staggering against your neck as it trails further up to your lips, capturing them in another one of his overpowering kisses that you submerged yourself into. He continued to push himself in again and that's when you felt the pressure to a specific spongy spot within you. He curved a good ways to the right and inside you it was the perfect amount of pressure that had you hyperventilating.

”Let me know when you're ready, y'look like you struggling.” He kept his eyes on yours the entire time, watching your cute face contort. Eren had a guilty pleasure for watching you struggle to take him. He was big and he knew it. Your mouth had been quivering, trying to adjust to the mere thickness of him, but seeing his face written with knowing had you fixing your own. ”Just.. start moving.”

Your command had been answered with a breathless chuckle once Eren finally started moving his hips back and forth at a slow pace. Every time he bottomed out you felt a painfully good pressure in your stomach. Low mewls resonated in your throat as he kept going, adjusting to both his size and the pace of friction he set. Eren's mouth hung ajar, eyes lidded but locked onto the way he slid in and out of you. You're so goddamn wet.

”Fuck.” He couldn't keep his hands off you any longer. It'd be a waste not to touch you when you're underneath him after all. His body leaned forward until you were face to face, his hands drifting towards yours and guiding them to wrap around his neck. ”I-... want you to hold onto me, alright?” You gave him a meek nod as an answer until you felt a shift in pace. You were only just getting adjusted to the slow and steady tone but with his size going like this had you feeling hazy and lightheaded. You needed him closer to you, feeling his skin against yours, feeling like you'd lose yourself to the feeling of his dick without it.

”Oh my God—” you rasp and claw at his back to ease some of the pleasure, even if it's just by a little bit, but no matter how close you pull him to your body it's not enough. Losing yourself on me, too fuckin' cute.

Eren loves how vocal you are, and it's all for him. The way you shudder when his hips snap against your pussy, the way you squeeze him to damn near suffocation, he has to bite his lip to stop himself from moaning like a bitch. His lips meet the crevice of your neck, his teeth beginning to tug at your skin as a way to muffle his moans, but you feel them vibrate in your body and it has you digging your nails into his back.

”Just like that.. keep grabbing me, not goin' anywhere sweetheart.” The way his voice sounded right at your ear had you whining again. He sounded so fucking sexy. All you can do is just nod.

You're grasping at the chance for air when his pace increases. At that point it felt like he was just so goddamn deep inside you to the point where it even stung a little. ”'Ren.. Eren. Hurts– too deep,” you plead to him, a hand of yours leaving his back to push his hips away a little, but his hand is quick to swat it away and hold your waist. ”Can't help it, you keep pulling me in. Feels so good I can't help it.. fuuck.”

The best you can do is sniffle as a sob leaves your lips. It sounded so beautiful to Eren though, like the beautiful melody that's been playing in his head on repeat. He needed to hear more from you because you sounded so pretty, so cute. But he couldn't see your face like this when he knows it's probably tear stained and fucking slutty, so he moves his head from your neck to get a better look at you, and he couldn't be more right. Your eyes were glued to the way his pelvis met yours, tears on your cheeks from the way it felt like he was in your stomach. Fuck. ”You look so pretty like this. Pretty little face and the prettiest pussy in the world.”

He left you speechless at his choice of words. They were so filthy but they felt so good, just as good as the pressure in your pussy. How could a man fuck like that? Like him? Can't tell if you love him or his dick, or both. His eyes stayed lidded and locked on you, but you looked like you were losing yourself, so he tapped your cheek. ”Don't go passing out on me.”

You giggle with little breath, gasping in between but your body is giving itself away, jerking and writhing feeling heat pool in your clit. ”Sorry, 'm getting close. Mmmh.. I'm gonna cum soon if you keep moving like that.”

”Then I wanna see your face, wanna see how beautiful it is. Wanna see it when you cum.” It's all he can say because there's an eagerness to seeing you unravel. He felt it too, feeling himself tighten and ache feeling the way your warmth squeezed him just right. Shit, forgot a condom. At that point Eren didn't care, he'd just pull out. You didn't seem to care either, your whines getting louder and your hand going to push at his waist again once he startes fucking you harder than before. You missed being able to hold him the way you were before, but you also liked the view of him looming above you, exposed chest, v-line and all.

”Oh fuck, oh my God, Eren– shit.” Your free hand starts gripping the sheet beside your head feeling yourself cum and spasm on his cock, biting your lip as you moan.

Eren felt the new sudden feeling of something creamy on him, looking at where the two of you connected and saw your essence seep out of your hole as he kept fucking into you. The sight had him on the edge, body sweating and full of so much damn regret as he pulled out. He's desperately wrapping a hand around his shaft and fucking his fist, head tilted back trying to imagine that he was still inside you. The sight was so sexy, to watch him get off to the thought of your pussy still hugging him, even as your breath was still ragged and mind hazy you wanted to remember that forever.

”So fuckin' beautiful– ahh. Your ex didn't deserve this perfect pussy, this perfect body— fuck!” He's so frustrated that he has to finish like this, but he's the one that gets to cover you in his cum and the thought alone gets him spurting thick ropes of white onto your stomach and clit, some dripping down onto your partially gaping hole. God your ex. If he could rub it in his face it'd probably make him cum again that he gets to fuck you better than him.

You're admiring the way he keeps leaking onto your body, white pools glistening against your skin. You were breathless and the space where your legs met your pelvis were starting to ache the longer you held them in this position so you put them down. By doing that you didn't think you'd get his attention though. ”Who said we was done, sweet thing? Put your legs back up f'me.” Go ahead and arch your eyebrow.

An eyebrow of yours raised, looking him up and down when all he did was just look at you with that same cocky smirk you remember from the market. ”Oh really?” You weren't gonna back out now, and in all honestly Eren wasn't either. He wanted to test your limits, see and learn what your body likes.

The night before seemed like forever ago, or a messy dream at that, because before you knew it the sun was shining through your black-out curtains signifying that a day had passed. The aching where your legs met your pelvis couldn't be more overwhelming, but the sleep you got distracted you from the dull ache. Horny fucker.

Originally you were meant to go sex-free for a while, but clearly your mind and pussy had other plans. Not like you had much room for regret though because it was one of the best experiences of your life. Eren. He was so much better than you could've imagined, he even changed your bed sheets for you while you showered independently. You smiled reminiscing on the aftermath, but you wanted to see him, see his pretty face again, hear his voice. Should I be like this?

You turned over only to be met with an empty bed, sitting up from your laying position to study your empty room. You didn't hear anything, nor felt movement in your own bed so you wondered if he left. Damn, just how good did he fuck you for you to not hear him leave? Even still, there was a high chance he did since he didn't live with you, and it more or less felt like a one night stand.

You shouldn't feel so disappointed, but at the same time you want to call him and ask him where he is, listen to him talk, just be with him. But he wasn't there, in the same fashion that Connie wasn't there either. For fucks sake. One pretty guy enters your life and he's already imprinted on your mind. You're sitting up by then, legs dangling over the edge of your bed as you sit and contemplate whether you should try to find out where he is, however what if he didn't answer and your apartment is actually empty? You didn't want to admit you were scared, but the questions spiraling in your head made your anxiety spike.

Not again, not like this shit again. You can't let yourself be fucked over by another guy again, you've already been at that point. Being so lost in your own head you got up from your bed, motioning towards your connected bathroom to fix your appearance because you'd be damned if you let yourself be a mess over another person. Except you stop, standing in front of your bathroom door as the strong smell of food hit your nose. Who the fuck?

You don't remember eating anything last night, so you blamed the smell on your hunger, but just as you're about to step fully in your bathroom it hits you stronger until you're already gravitating towards your bedroom door. Opening it, you're met with the sound of your son's giggling. He shouldn't be home yet so how is he inside? Instinct tells you to investigate, rushing down the stairs and seeing the bare backside of a tall man with brown hair sprawled down his neck and shoulders.

”Morning sweetheart.”

Your feet move you forward, eyes a little wide and all. ”But you– how did Isaiah…?”

You can't even finish the question, your voice trailing off as you try to connect the dots. Meanwhile Eren had turned to face you, placing the cooking utensil down from making fried potatoes. ”A lovely woman who looked like you brought him home. Told me I was handsome too.” All you do is scoff while going over to your babbling son, picking him up out of his high chair to hold him.

You didn't mean to stay silent but you're still trying to make it make sense. First you thought he was gone and now here he is cooking you breakfast. Who the hell sent this man to me? ”First of all she lied,” you retorted in an attempt to hide your slight awkwardness. It was Eren's turn to scoff at that. ”Secondly, that was my mother.”

”I guessed that much because she has wonderful taste.” You look him up and down, not being able to hold a wide smile back when you know fully well it was because of the reddish marks on his neck and collarbone. Pretty thing was worrying about me. Eren could tell by how your body language gave you away. You came downstairs tense, but now you look lax.

”I'm assuming you hungry.” He begins motioning to two plates he somehow manages to find in your unorganized kitchen. ”Yes, please I'm starving.”

It's when he begins making your plate that a ring resonates throughout your apartment. Must be mom. You set Isaiah back down in his high chair and went towards the front door, assuming your mother had possibly forgotten to drop off something that belonged to your son since she seemed to do that a lot, so you don't care to make yourself presentable since she's seen you at your worst.

”Ma what you–” You spoke before opening the door, but the last person you expected to see standing there just had to be there. Just fucking had to be. Eren must have somehow known you were just standing there based on your silence, because he came over to stand behind you with his hands in his pockets assuming your mother was standing there. You both couldn't have been more wrong, and you really really wished you were.