BYSTANDER, G.SUGURU

BYSTANDER, G.SUGURU

❪ ♡ ❫ ─── ( synopsis ) the roles are now reversed, with the artist now being the bystander

♡ ˙ ˖ ✧ — reader discretion is advised: female reader, female anatomy described, profanity, artist!geto, drug usage (weed), stoner!geto, exhibitionism, voyeurism, muse x artist trope, in need of editing, minors dni !!

part i. part ii. part iii. part iv coming soon

HE WOULD LET OUT A SIGH AS HE PLOPPED DOWN ON HIS COUCH. Another Friday night where none of the women in his rotation was not picking up the phone. He craved some form of intimacy and sexual pleasure and the fact that he wasn’t getting it caused him to let out a dramatic sigh. He grabbed a hold of his sketchbook flipping through the content on the pages and decided to start sketching his next piece. But as the pencil glided across the white piece of paper, he realized that he had no clue what he wanted to draw. His mind went blank.

That caused the artist to glance over at the window of [Y/N]’s condo. The lights were off, so he assumed she wasn’t home just yet. Geto remembered Gojo told him that they were going out for drinks after work, to which the white-haired male extended the invitation to Geto. But Geto just declined in hopes that he could just go home, smoke, and be indulged in whatever pussy that answered his text messages. So here Geto was sitting in his spacious condo, a blank piece of paper in his sketchbook, and a rolled blunt he rolled an hour ago.

When he said that [Y/N] broke his creativity block, he meant it. That night after the lousy brunette who sucked him off fell asleep, Geto found himself in front of a canvas. He seemed to just start sketching. His hands guided across the canvas as if he was a magician who was about to do a magic trick. He never straight sketched on a canvas, he usually did it in his book first and then transferred it on the canvas. But that night he didn’t know what possessed him, but he needed that energy again. With commissions only stacking up and art agencies also wanting a piece of his work, Geto found himself panicking at the thought of each deadline he had.

So why was he stuck at the moment? Why was he staring at this blank piece of paper as if it had three heads growing out of it?

He would grab the rolled blunt and his lighter, lighting the substance as he put it in between his lips. He inhaled the sharp substance of weed. His lungs were now used to the substance so inhaling and exhaling was nothing to the artist. As he sat in the living room, his eyes seemed to light up seeing the lights flickered on in [Y/N]’s apartment. Expecting to see the woman kicking on her shoes and glancing out the window to peep if he was home, but Geto didn’t get that.

He got something else and he wasn’t sure if he should have been watching or not. But then again, she did the same thing to him. So the artist threw his sketchbook aside, his feet kicking up on his expensive coffee table and the blunt he was smoking in between his fingers.

There [Y/N] was in the living room against the glass window making out with some man. Her fingers combed through his hair as she brought him closer to her frame. His hands frantically tore off the clothing she wore. Geto sat back watching as if it was some Friday night premiere. He would kiss his teeth in annoyance, “He’s moving too fast.” He mumbled to himself watching the man.

He watched as [Y/N] eagerly tugged her lace panties off her lower half and sooner her bra joined the pile of clothes on the floor too. Geto took in her naked body. His hand that was free from holding his blunt would grab his sketchbook and pencil. He felt like a little dirty pervert getting his creativity spark by being a peeping, Tom. But he couldn’t help it. His artwork had to be completed someway or another. Especially when the previous piece of [Y/N] sold so well at his art exhibit. Many art critics told him that the art piece had some form of intimacy, they would question who exactly was the woman on the canvas. A lover, possibly? No, it was the woman in the apartment across from him.

When Geto glanced up from his sketchbook, he had started to sketch [Y/N]. His brain was now rushing with so many artistic ideas that he could feel himself gaining a headache due to it. Ignoring the pain as he took another hit of his blunt. It seemed like the young woman was eager for the man’s cock already. Especially considering that they skipped foreplay. Geto's eyes watched with so much intensity as he could see the light in [Y/N]’s eyes glow as the man’s cock filled her with a quickness.

The man’s hands gripped at [Y/N]’s waist as her hands were placed on the glass window in front of her. Her perfectly shaped boobs jiggled at each thrust the man did. Her lips parted in such a way, it caused Geto to grow hard under the sketchbook on his lap. The tightness in his sweatpants caused him to shift himself in his seat on the sofa in his living room. The blunt in between his lips was slowly going out, his hands begin fiddling with his lighter trying to spark the intoxicating drug once again. If only he had a pair of binoculars like [Y/N] did when she watched him carelessly face fucked a woman whose name he couldn’t even remember.

The artist was rock hard under the grey sweatpants he was lounging around his place in. Yes, it was because of [Y/N]. He wasn’t afraid to admit it. Was it weird to visualize him making her cum? Was it weird for him to want to be the one to cause her mouth to gasp open as he stretched her open?

Jesus, Geto you sound like a perv.

His eyes were shot red now due to the weed he smoked and his lungs felt like they were screaming. As he watched the mysterious man fuck his muse, he felt a pit of jealous overcome him. He would once again place the blunt in between his lips to draw, his creativity took over as he sketched in his book. He had to draw [Y/N] before this wonderful explicit image that was plastered in the back of his mind went away.

Geto assumed that this man was being a little too rough as he watched [Y/N] crumble to the floor after reaching her orgasm. The man seemed to fall back on the couch to catch his breath, cum glistening his own cock as he sat down. Geto thought that the man was being too rough, the way his hands grasped at [Y/N] a little too harshly or the way he tugged her in for a rough kiss. But in reality, she liked it. The woman liked the rough sex. Perhaps even a little degradation also.

As Geto finished the rough sketch of [Y/N] getting fucked by another man, he stared at the masterpiece he created. Eyes shot red and eyelids practically closed due to the weed he had smoked. He didn’t even finish his blunt and the substance was already kicking his ass. Putting the blunt out as he closed his sketchbook, his eyes staring at the boner that poked through the grey sweatshirts he wore. The things that [Y/N] did to him were something the women in his rotation couldn’t do. And that was inspire him.

Across in the other building, [Y/N] was tying her silk robe across her body as she handed her guest a bottle of water. She plopped down next to him on the couch, her legs still feeling like a bowl of Jell-O after the good fucking she just received. The man who fucked her was just a booty call she would always hit up when she wanted to be a pillow princess. However, with the two both being at the bar at the same time and the alcohol in their system controlling them, they couldn’t even make it to the bedroom. As the two of them watched television, [Y/N]’s legs were comfortably on his lap as he massaged her thighs. His eyebrows raised at her as a thought lingered on his mind since they started to have sex.

“Did you know the man in the building across from you was watching us?” He asked, he placed the water bottle on the coffee table next to the couch as his eyes seemed to bore on the side of her.

“Yes.” She simply said which caused his head to tilt in confusion.

“Yes, I know he’s watching. I like it.” She then adds.

Know Your Place

Pairing: Naoya x Reader

Genre/Warnings: Yandere, NSFW, Misogyny, Abuse, Rape/Non-Con, Humiliation, Degradation, Feet Stepping

Summary: You should have known better than to believe that Toji could protect you from the Zenin forever. Once a Zenin woman, always a Zenin woman and Naoya intends to make sure you fully understand that.

Growing up as a female in the Zenin clan means you’re always expected to serve, to look beautiful. Never speak unless requested to. Never look any of the men in the eyes. Obey. Be submissive and demure.

There are thousands of rules and dozens of leering eyes ready to punish you for a single minor infraction. So as much as you hate the life you’ve been born into, you know better than to act out and bring attention to yourself, knowing full well especially now as an adult woman that the price of transgressions are too high to pay.

You’d be incredibly fortunate for the usual heavy backhands Naobito and Ogi Zenin would grace your face with when you were still a minor, for the cruel condescending words Naoya would sneer at you. Those were child’s play compared to what’s in store for you now and you shudder when you remember the images of fellow female servants who had attempted to escape only to be easily captured, clothes stripped and body laid bare for the entire clan to see. You remember the fear that would make you tremble as the men howled in laughter and jeers as they took turns smacking their victim’s ass, pawing and groping her body. You remember sobbing when you were forced to watch as fists, cocks, objects that you thought were far too large were shoved between flailing legs.

But nothing keeps you in line more than the cold dread you’d feel heavy in your chest when you’d be forced to clean out the room of one of your ex-maids, preparing the room for the next poor soul born into a never ending life of servitude. As much as you hate this life, it’s still better than being tied up and forced to be nothing more than a Zenin sex doll, used by every man in the clan until there’s nothing left but an empty husk of skin.

So you keep your head down, ignoring the cruel words and predatory gazes that follow you. You enjoy the few moments you have in the servant quarters alone with your fellow maids, giggling and whispering to each other, pretending that you’re just normal women. Those friendships you form warm your heart and you take solace in the sympathetic glances and warm brief squeezes of hands when a Zenin man is particularly harsh in their treatment of you.

Maybe that’s why you can’t keep your body still when the woman who shares the same room as you accidentally spills hot tea all over Zenin Toji. And despite how terrified you are of Toji’s hulking figure and blood-stained reputation, you throw your body in between him and your friend, creating a feeble physical shield for her from his wrath.

A part of you is together enough to vaguely acknowledge how strange it is that Toji hasn’t roared a single word yet, hasn’t laid a hand on you. But you’re not foolish enough to think this is over and you throw yourself to the floor in a degrading groveling bow, begging him to forgive your friend, to have mercy on the both of you.

You know exactly who Zenin Toji is and you prepare yourself for the feeling of his infamous sword slicing through your neck. What you aren’t prepared for is the way he lets out a boisterous laugh, green eyes glimmering in amusement when he sees the bewildered look on your face as you tentatively peek up at him.

“You’ve got guts. Tell you what. I’ll forgive you and your clumsy friend if you become my personal maid. Deal?”

It’s a rhetorical question and you stiffly nod your head, tears forming in your eyes as you imagine the rest of your life chained to Toji’s bed, stuck in the lair of a beast.

Except your life isn’t anything like you had imagined and you’re stunned when Toji barks at you to go retire to your own room and get some rest so you’re ready to keep up with tomorrow.

Life is...surprisingly normal. Well as normal as it can be in the household of one of the top Jujutsu sorcerer clans in the world. You scowl at Toji as he teasingly throws a pile of sweat stained clothes and towels on top of your head as he walks out of the bath.

“You’re getting a little stronger, little lady. I almost even felt the punch you threw at me in training today.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the slight quirk of your lips and swell of pride at his backhanded compliment.

Toji isn’t anything like the rest of his clan and it goes deeper than just his lack of cursed energy or his supernatural strength. He’s kind. Okay, maybe that’s a stretch, but you genuinely believe he has a good heart. Not once has he ever spoken maliciously to you. Not once has he ever laid a hand even borderline inappropriate or suggestive on you. And sure, you don’t necessarily enjoy doing his dirty laundry, cleaning his room, and making his bed every day and night, but he makes it easy to forget that you’re just a lowly maid.

He talks to you as if you’re his equal, carefully listening to you, acknowledging your points (even if he mocks you when you do say something silly or that he disagrees with). He invites you to eat meals with him. He trains you deeming you too wimpy to last long without at least some basic defense skills. Your time with Toji is one of the few moments of happiness you know and you greedily indulge.

But unknown to you, your new proximity to the black wolf of the Zenin clan has more than one eye looking at you in interest and above all, Zenin Naoya can’t stop fixating on you.

Naoya has always had a strange mix of respect, disdain, and jealousy towards the older man and he can’t help himself from wanting what Toji has, especially when the both of you look so irritatingly happy chattering away with each other as if you have no cares in the world. How dare a lowly Zenin servant look so carefree. How dare curse-less Toji make a mockery of the rest of the clan by living a shame-free life despite how hard they try to humiliate him for it.

Has Naoya ever been happy? Ever been relaxed?

He can’t remember ever laughing as hard as Toji is now in response to something you’ve said or done. He can’t remember smiling so freely like you are as you playfully slap Toji and try to get him to stop teasing you. A green eyed monster slithers inside of him and before he realizes what he’s doing, he’s making his way towards the both of you.

“Aren’t you two as unseemly as usual. I know you don’t care for our clan’s reputation or rules, but really? Parading your slut around so shamelessly? That’s a new low even for you.”

It’s adorable how you scurry away, cowering behind Toji’s broad figure, fear written all over your face. And although Naoya had done this to get under Toji’s skin, he can’t help but wish the older man would storm off and leave you behind in his clutches. He wonders if you’d be this scared and docile underneath him, wonders how tight you’d be while you tremble in fear while he sinks inside of you…

His thoughts are abruptly interrupted as Toji snorts, slinging a muscular arm over your shoulder and dragging you off with him, subtly tucking you safely into his side and away from Naoya’s hungry gaze.

Usually being ignored and dismissed would rile him up more, but as he watches the two of you amble away and sees your innocent and confused face, unsure what had just happened and what’s causing Toji’s strangely touchy behavior, his appetite is whetted and you’re what he’s craving.

What he hadn’t accounted for is how protective Toji is of you. So strange for a man who doesn’t seem to care about anyone except himself. But Naoya supposes that’s just a testament for how good you must be in bed. He can’t think of any other reason why Toji would waste his time and efforts on an insignificant woman like you.

You’re never left alone long enough for him to corner. Just when he sees you by yourself and swoops in to shove you in a spare room, Toji suddenly looms beside you, green eyes sternly pinning Naoya down with a warning. And as much as Naoya would love to rise to the challenge, he knows that he doesn’t stand a chance against Toji, so he slinks away in defeat, again and again.

It only makes him want you more and he grits his teeth as he slams into one of the whores in his bed who vaguely reminded him of you if he squints in just the right way.

He supposes he should be more remorseful as the news of Toji’s death spreads like wildfire through the Zenin household. But all he can see is a light at the end of the tunnel. It takes every last bit of restraint in him not to immediately hunt you down and devour you, but he bides his time. After all the teasing and taunting you’ve put him through just one taste isn’t going to satisfy him anymore.

No, he won’t just ruin you and throw you away after a single night. He plans on dragging this out, using you, tasting you until it fully sinks in that this is all you’re good for, that he owns every part of you inside and out.

His cock twitches at your swollen face covered in salty tear streaks. You look so pathetic, so scared when he takes his time strolling into your room, kicking your roommate out and locking the door behind him. It’s just the two of you and he feels the rush of power thrumming through his veins at how you tremble and cower before him. If only you were naked and not in those dreary mourning clothes…

But he has ample time for that and he wants to enjoy corrupting you, take his time watching your downfall.

“You’re my maid starting now.”

You mutely nod, but make no move and Naoya scoffs.

“I know Toji was soft with you, but let me set expectations straight. I’m nothing like him. Now get moving.”

“But this is my room-”

You yelp in fright as Naoya’s hand grips the front of your shirt and hauls your body until you’re forced to press against his body, feeling his breath against your face as he sneers at you.

“Sluts don’t get the luxury of their own room or bed. Toji spoiled you. Now move your stuff to my quarters. The only place you’ll be sleeping from now on is my floor or my bed. Understood?”

It’s a rhetorical question and all you can do is crumple to the ground when he lets go, staring unseeingly at Naoya’s retreating back as he exits your room, the weight of your new reality crashing down on you.

Sleeping on the floor is humiliating and uncomfortable. Naoya makes it a point to “accidentally” step on you when he gets on and off the bed, rudely nudging you awake with his feet, resting his soles on your face until you’re flailing around to breathe. But it isn’t as bad as wondering when the worst is to come.

At least you’re clothed. At least your innocence is still intact. So as much as you feel like nothing more than a dog, you take it. After all, your new life isn’t so different from your life before Toji aside from your new sleeping arrangements and the headache of being in close proximity to Zenin Naoya.

It’s entertaining enough in the beginning, watching you curl up on the floor like an obedient puppy, admiring how you never talk or lash out when he literally walks all over you. He even buys you a pretty new collar with his name engraved on it linked to a leash he holds in his hand or leaves tied to his bed.

But unlike a real pet you never warm up to him, always looking at him warily, body tense and nervous in his presence. Not once do you look at him with even the slightest hint of affection or fondness you used to stare at Toji with. He supposes that can’t be helped and he doesn’t care for anything disgusting like your love. But you don’t even seem remotely attracted to him as a man and that’s something his ego won’t allow for.

He knows women can’t stand his attitude. But he also knows that at their base, all women are sluts easily swayed by his good looks. He can’t even count the number of women who’ve insulted him to his face only to end up in his bed, moaning and screaming his name and their love for his cock.

You were supposed to be no different. But your continued disinterest in him infuriates him to the point where petty humiliation isn’t enough to sate his hurt pride.

“Strip and get in bed.”

You’re frozen stiff and he sneers at you while you’re on the verge of terrified tears.

“What? I’m not good enough for you? Don’t act like you aren’t used to this. I’m sure your old master had you warming his bed all the time-”

“Toji would never!”

Even he’s stunned by the weight of his backhand hit as it makes contact with your face, by the venom in his voice as he spits out his next words.

“Don’t you ever say that name in my presence again.”

He takes a few seconds to calm his breath, the crimson of the blood trickling from your nose grounding him as he finds his center once more. But then a thought crosses his mind as that red river finds its way to your lips.

“As punishment, let’s make sure you know what your mouth’s purpose is from now on. Words are wasted on a dumb whore like you anyway. Kneel and open wide.”

It’s oddly arousing watching your tears and blood stream down your face as you choke on his cock. Your efforts are half-hearted at best, but he doesn’t mind. Not when the instinctual way your throat flutters around him as he roughly thrusts his hips into your tight mouth suffices. He can see why Toji kept you around and he groans as his hand slips behind your head and pushes you until your face is squished against his abdomen.

Your mouth feels amazing and your muffled screams for air only add to the vibrations around his shaft. It’s enough to have him spilling down your throat and he keeps you tightly pressed against him, forcing you to drink every last drop he gifts you with. And only when your throat finally stops its forced swallowing does he release you, leering down at your pitiful form heaving for breath.

The bitter taste of his seed is all you can taste, all you can focus on as you greedily inhale much needed oxygen. You pray that he’s done, but you whimper when a strong hand easily pulls you up and begins to pull off your clothing. Instinctively you try to push the invasive appendages away from you, but you freeze at Naoya’s growled threat.

“Don’t make me hurt you any more than I have to.”

You know it’s not an empty threat. You’ve seen the quite literally broken bodies of women who had resisted too much against the Zenin men, against Naoya specifically. So you limply drop your arms to your side and stay still as he humiliatingly gropes and examines you like merchandise.

All you can do is clench your eyes shut as Naoya’s hands grab your breasts, kneading and weighing them in his hands, cruelly prodding and pinching your nipples to see your reactions. All you can do is bite back a muffled yelp when he forces you onto your knees and forearms on the bed, squeezing and smacking your ass, spreading apart your cheeks to closely look at your fluttering holes. All you can do is cry into the sheets as he fingers you open, breaching both untouched openings, his thick digits stretching your tight walls apart and taking their time to thoroughly defile you, using your own slick to loosen your ass.

You try to disassociate, try to imagine that this is just a medical examination. But your fantasies are shattered when something hard and thick slaps against your inner thigh as Naoya rearranges himself behind you, rubbing the head of his cock back and forth against your dripping entrance, coating his shaft with your juices.

“Naoya! Sir, please. I’ve never...You can’t-”

Your pleas are cut short as his hand painfully strikes your ass.

“Shut the fuck up. You’re ruining the mood with your sniveling voice. Remember what I taught you? Sluts don’t get to speak freely. They only get to moan and thank their masters.”

You don’t even know if you can speak even if you wanted to, not when his cock is forced into you in one go, the thick and lengthy shaft ruthlessly tearing you apart. It fills you, stuffing you full, and you don’t think there’s even room left in your body for words. The only thing you can release is a strangled scream, eyes and mouth blown wide open, fingers clawing at the sheets as you try to remotely ground yourself as the foreign sensation overwhelms you.

But Naoya has never been a patient man and there’s a certain sense of entertainment from watching you struggle and writhe underneath him. He begins a relentless pace before you can adjust to the feeling of him inside of you, hips slamming in and out of you, heavy balls bouncing against you.

You’re so tight, so hot, so wet and he can feel a rush of power from the confusion he begins to see setting on your face as forced pleasure begins to mix in with your fear and pain. Moans and high-pitched keens are finding their way in between distressed cries and he smirks at the way your eyes begin to roll back in your head, the way your hips begin to meet him halfway, greedily pushing back against him when he teasingly slows down his pace.

He laughs at the humiliation and embarrassment running rampant on your face when you whine as he abruptly stops

“Wow you really are a slut. You fucking love my cock, don’t you?”

He rolls his eyes as you adamantly shake your head in denial, bored by your playing hard to get act. But as he admires the way your pussy lips obscenely envelop his cock, your pretty puckered hole beckons to him.

“You’re fucking filthy, clamping down on me like a bitch in heat from just a thumb in your ass. You like that? Like having all your holes filled? Maybe when I break you in, I’ll share you with the rest of the clan. Bet you’d love that. Love having cocks in every hole, using every inch of you.”

Your orgasm takes the both of you by surprise in its speed and intensity and Naoya howls in laughter as he resumes fucking you, chasing his own high with his thumb still lodged in your ass, groaning in pleasure at how he can feel the tremors of your orgasm, the way your body convulses in the aftershocks of pleasure and onset of overstimulation.

You’re breathtaking like this, fucked silly, delirious, just a warm body and toy for him to do with as he pleases and it doesn’t take long for him to join you over the edge and add to the sticky mess already inside of you.

With a lewd pop he retracts his thumb from your now lewdly fluttering hole, shoving it into your mouth for you to clean and he smiles at how mindlessly obedient you are as you suck and lick the digit clean like it's your favorite lollipop.

You grimace when he finally pulls out, already feeling his cum beginning to leak out of you and you try and find the strength in your trembling and used body to push yourself off the bed. It’s time to retreat with your tail between your legs and you want nothing more than to spend the rest of the evening in the shower, harshly scrubbing every evidence of your utter defeat and conquest under boiling hot water.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

You open your mouth to speak, only to quickly clamp it back shut, remembering how your words only seemed to dig you deeper and deeper into trouble.

“You’re going to wash me and yourself and once we’re clean, you’re going to remain naked and in my bed until I’m ready to use you again. Think of it as a promotion. No more worrying your stupid little head about cleaning and laundry anymore. You’re being upgraded to my personal sex slave and bed warmer. Come on, I don’t have all day.”

You wonder if this is what it feels like to walk the plank, to approach your own death sentence as you robotically trail after Naoya’s figure towards his lavish bathroom. And as you lay in his bed that night, pristine and bare like a glorified sex doll, his broad arm possessively slung around your waist and forcing your bodies to mold together, you bid farewell to your past life, dreading what the future has in store for you.

dazzling haze, mysterious way

(eren x female reader)

college au; enemies to lovers

wc: 7k+

warnings: cursing, suggestive if you squint really hard

a/n: i have no excuses for this madness, please know i am embarrassed. considering writing a part 2 if you enjoy!

Things being back home for the holidays usually means:

a) indulging in your dad’s creamy homemade hot cocoa, b) having at least one christmas movie night with Christa, c) spending half of said christmas movie night repeatedly asking Christa to put her phone down (she can text her girlfriend after Juliet answers the doorbell to find Mark carrying a boombox playing a christmas carol and large cue cards), d) getting some well deserved rest after a decent finals week

Things being back home for the holidays doesn’t usually mean:

a) forgetting your favorite sweater at your dorm like a dumbass, b) finding out your dad fell prey of food poisoning, c) having to threaten to throw your brother’s nintendo switch out the window if he doesn’t stop smoking in his room, d) being so short on money you’re forced to look for babysitting jobs to roll out the slim earnings you get from working as a tutor on campus

So here you are, buried in a gigantic white puffer jacket and handmade scarf, backpack heavy with books, DVDs, craft supplies. Here you are, ringing the doorbell of one of the fanciest houses of the entire, affluent neighborhood you’ve been directed to by the woman who had called you yesterday. You sincerely hope you didn’t get off the bus too early nor too late, as this is not really a part of your hometown you’re familiar with.

You are, however, fairly familiar with the 5’12 broad chested green eyed cable knit sweater and pajama bottoms wearing figure opening the door.

“Thanks, we don’t need anything” he says, gaze flickering over your outfit, only one second spent wondering where you could possibly be hiding a vacuum cleaner.

Does he really not recognize you? Is it the scarf or is he actually that much of an idiot?

“Does Gabi live here?” you ask, unimpressed.

His eyebrows raise in interest.

“She isn’t old enough to buy anything”

“Eren, I’m here to babysit” it feels so weird to say his name out loud to someone that isn't Mikasa or Christa. It’s weird to call him by his name while he’s there to actually hear it.

“Do I know you?” his gaze narrows, gears in his head working exceptionally hard to try and remember a face that simply isn’t familiar enough for him to pinpoint.

You sigh.

“Isn’t your mom here? She asked me to come today and has already paid in advance. I can leave but—”

He finally opens the door fully, a gust of wind makes him shiver and it finally dawns on him that it’d probably be rude to let you freeze on his doorstep.

“Come in, I’ll call her” he moves to the side and you accept the invitation with relief, hands ice cold even if buried inside your pockets.

The house is warm, smells nice and you can hear that the tv is on in the living room. You stay by the door, watch as he heads to what you can only guess is the kitchen and comes out shortly after, phone squeezed between his cheek and shoulder as he removes the hair band sitting around his wrist with his teeth.

“Hey mom” you do your best not to stare as he ties his hair back and the sweater rises up slightly, revealing part of an annoyingly toned stomach “yeah, ‘m fine. Someone’s here, she says it’s to babysit Gabi?”

However, you are staring. Which explains why you slightly jump when his gaze is suddenly on you again as he hums, listening to whatever explanation his mom is giving him.

“Ah, right. She says you already paid?”

“I can leave and send the money back” you take a small step forward but Eren motions you to keep quiet with a raise of his pointer finger.

“Okay, I got it. Yes, I’ll tell her. Thanks, you too, tell dad I said hi” he smiles softly before ending the call and shoving the phone in his pocket.

“It’s honestly my fault, I came back one day earlier than expected. She’s embarrassed and so sorry and will call you later to apologize”

“It’s really no problem, I’ll just send the payment back” you’re already with one hand on the door handle, hoping to god the next bus will come within an hour, when his fingers delicately close around your wrist.

“Don’t be ridiculous. You can stay”

“There’s no need, just take the money and I’ll be on my way”

Eren suddenly furrows his brows for a second, then his hand reaches over to your scarf and gently pulls it down enough to reveal the entirety of your nose and mouth.

“Ah, you’re the tutor girl. Thought I recognized that polemic tone” and now you finally find him more familiar as well, with that snarky smirk and teasing gaze.

“I wouldn’t need to be polemic if you actually cooperated for once in your life”

He brings both hands to his chest, a fake grimace distorting his features.

“Ouch. Still can’t believe Armin describes you as pleasant to be around”

You click your tongue in annoyance.

“Likewise. I’ll send the money back when I get home” you grumble, turning around to open the door once again. It sucks, cause you need it and your house is half an hour away and it’s 28.4 °F outside, but it’s the right thing to do.

“Hey, listen” Eren doesn’t grab your wrist a second time, his hand reaches the door handle instead. In an attempt to keep it shut, he’s basically hovering above you, an invasion of your personal space so sudden you barely have the time to register that he smells sickeningly nice. Way better than you have anticipated, given that he usually looks like someone who showers once a month and even then refuses to wash his legs cause water and soap rinse down on them anyway.

“She has homework, some kind of project to do. I’m too tired to deal with it, just do the job so you can keep the money and I can keep watching house of the dragon”

“Who is that? ” a high pitched voice asks, making you jump. Eren’s infamous smirk appears once again as he leans forward even more to whisper a good luck though, she’s a pain in the ass right to the shell of your ear. The shudder is a perfectly normal, balanced reaction that you hope to fuck he doesn’t notice.

“She’s your new mom, Gab! Mine finally decided I’m the only one worth keeping around, so she’s given you up for adoption, again” he finally pulls back and winks at his sister, who returns him an unimpressed look.

“Hi, Gabi, it’s so nice to meet you. I’m just gonna be here for a few hours to keep you company” you take off your scarf and attempt a smile. The petite, young girl staring back at you seems offended.

“I don’t need a babysitter, I’m twelve”

God, she really is his sister. The medium length black hair half tied above her head with large strands framing each side of a very skeptical face is the same as his, only darker.

“Have fun” Eren grins, patting your shoulder once before disappearing into the living room once again.

You clear your throat and kneel down to place your backpack on the floor, unzipping your jacket in an effort to stop sweating. What do they have in the house, radiators buried in the damn walls? 

“I’m not here to babysit” you smile again “I won’t even bother you if you don’t want me to. Just thought I could give you a hand to finish whatever schoolwork you may have, so you can enjoy the rest of the holidays doing whatever you like”

Gabi weights down her options, studying you for a few moments. She knows she’s gonna have to do her homework anyway, sooner or later, so if this stranger suddenly appearing at her house is going to be there regardless, she might as well be of use.

“Whaddya have in there?” she suspiciously eyes your backpack and you zip it open to give her free peeking access. Gabi kneels on the carpet as well, snooping around the content of the indigo eastpak. “These movies are lame” she grumbles, holding one of the DVDs in between her pointer and middle finger.

You fake a gasp.

“Hey! I’ll have you know that Balto is an all time classic” you grumble back, taking the DVD back. Gabi fights the smile already tugging at her lips. She usually likes adults who talk to her as if she’s one of them, and you seem kinda fun. But it’s too early to let you know.

“What’s the crafting stuff for? I’m not three” she bites again, standing up with her arms crossed. You shrug.

“Those are for me, in case I get bored. I create killer notebooks from scratch, sometimes a pinwheel or two if I feel inspired enough” you casually wink, finally taking off your jacket and hanging it by the door, over your scarf.

“So, I guess, if you don’t want my help I may as well go craft myself something” you dramatically sigh, throwing your backpack over one shoulder and starting to march towards the living room.

“Actually, I kinda have a project for school” she mumbles under her breath, still loud enough for you to hear.

“Oh?” you turn around, brows raised.

“I have to make a snow globe and associate a story with it”

“D’you think I could help with that?”

She casually scratches her nose, shifting her weight from one leg to the other.

“Okay”

“How did you even manage to fit all that in one backpack?” Gabi eyes the materials scattered on the kitchen table, appalled. There’s paint, fake snow, fishing line, brushes, some small wooden decorations, ribbons, a glue gun.

“I have my ways” you chuckle “do you have everything we need?”

“I guess” she sounds skeptical, your favorite emotion to work with.

“Great! Let’s wash the container first, use warm soapy water and scrub well”

“Aren’t you supposed to do that?”

“Nope” you pop the p “you’re the one in charge, remember?”

She snorts but heads to the sink anyway, to do as instructed. You wait at the table, foot tapping lightly on the polished parquet floor. When she comes back and sits next to you, you can tell that she’s holding back some curiosity about how the whole thing is going to turn out.

“Wanna pick the decorations we’re going to use?” you smile, pushing the small wooden figures towards her “I have stars, trees, a truck, a bear, I think that’s a reindeer and, well, a slightly crooked snowman”

Gabi takes the decorations in her hands one by one, carefully inspecting each of them, pensive. The crests forming on her forehead as she focuses remind you of the exact same ones Eren gets when trying to understand how to solve a problem sheet.

“Let’s use the stars, the trees and the crooked snowman. We could give him a nice story”

“Sounds good to me. Wanna do the honors?” you ask, handing her a brush.

“I get to paint them?” her voice comes out slightly squeaky, coated with genuine excitement and, as you nod, she finally rewards you with a big, warm smile.

With your chin resting in the palm of your hand, you fondly watch as she focuses on making the stars, the trees and the snowman come alive with gentle strokes of color. She’s pretty talented and gets into it soon, asking for your opinion from time to time. As soon as she’s finished with the stars, you cut two pieces of fishing line and glue the stars onto one end. Then you take the other end and glue it to the inside of the lid, letting the stars dangle downward. This earns you a wow, you’re actually good at this stuff.

Time passes comfortably as you continue to work on the little project. You help Gabi glue the red ribbon around the (now painted green) lid, adding some twine to keep it in place. She fills the inside of the container with the fake snow and insists on getting some pink glitter from her room to give the snow more character. Lastly, she carefully glues down the decorations in the container, places the lid on top and snaps it closed.

When Eren steps into the kitchen, almost two hours later, he briefly stops to take in the view of you two bent over the messiest table he’s ever seen, paper sheets and colored pencils scattered everywhere as you confabulate in soft whispers occasionally interrupted by genuine giggles. He doesn’t remember seeing his little sister giggle with a stranger, like, ever.

“What’re you doing?” he inquires, finally bringing himself to interrupt the magical exchange he’s witnessing. You both look up as he approaches the table and Gabi proudly indicates your work of art.

“We made a snow globe!” she announces.

“Did you, now?” Eren fails to hold back a smile as he takes a look, carefully twisting the container in his hands.

“And we’re giving the snowman a story” Gabi grins, handing him one of the sheets on which she has drawn a scene from the tale you’re both trying to come up with.

His gaze flickers on you, amused, as if waiting for you to add something.

“His name’s Holly” your smile is uncharacteristically sheepish as you take back the page from his hands, accidentally grazing his fingers.

“Holly Berry” Gabi clarifies, which causes another sudden fit of laughter Eren can’t help but feel dragged into. He doesn’t really understand why or how he ends up sitting at the table as well, examining each drawing and handwritten paragraph you have produced. He can’t pinpoint the exact moment he starts coming up with ideas for the plot himself, suggesting that Holly Berry was actually a human raised in a village of snowmen for so long he eventually turned into one, although slightly imperfect, thus not always treated kindly by his fellow villagers. Eren Yeager actually takes a pencil in his hand and starts sketching drawings of gingerbread houses, candy cane forests and lakes of ribbon candies. He gives Holly Berry a human face and is offended by the way you steal the pencil from in between his fingers, mumbling that those features resemble more a potato than a human being. And yet he isn’t offended for long, because you reach across the table to fix the sketch with decisive and unforgiving strokes, but he can smell your shampoo and feel the warmth radiating from your face on his, so he has to lean forward just a tiny bit more.

“It does look better like this”, he concedes. The slight gruffness punctuating his words makes you look up and pull back to your chair immediately, in what definitely isn’t a suave motion. You know how attractive he is, because you’re not blind nor an idiot, although you’ve never been this close to him. He appears to reach a whole new level of attractiveness when his features are relaxed, cheeks slightly dusted with pink, eyes focused on whatever his skilled hands are tracing on a page. What makes it worse, is that he clearly knows. Which is not a bad thing per se, but just adds perfectly to that asshole attitude of his.

You know Eren Yeager because he’s like a celebrity. Best player of the Trost University men’s basketball team, decent grades, a party thrower that usually spends said parties sitting in a corner making out with hot girls, part of a large, loud group of friends, doesn’t smile much in public, usually dresses in black. You’ve seen him around campus for so long and yet only got to talk to him once, because of Armin, who works as a tutor as well. One afternoon, Eren had suddenly decided to barge in your friendly study session, annoyingly talking over and over and over again about trivial matters, not even acknowleding your presence until you asked him if he was aware of the interruption he was causing.

“Sorry, you are?”

“This is y/n, we tutor students together”, Armin cleared his throat, uncomfortable, apologetic gaze finding your annoyed one.

Eren had barely spared you a glance and a slight nod.

“’Kay, well, can’t you leave early today? Jean’s being a massive pain in my ass about tonight’s party and-”

“He can’t leave early, we’re busy”, you cut him off impatiently, pencil drumming on the textbook page opened in front of you.

He looked at you like he couldn’t believe you were still there.

“Listen, this kinda doesn’t concern you so can you give us a sec?”

Armin sighed as you put down the pencil in disbelief.

“No, I can’t give you a sec. I’m waiting for you to leave so we can resume a work that kinda doesn’t concern you”

With his eyebrow muscle contracting involuntarily in a twitch, Eren suddenly slammed his backpack onto the table, pulled out two thick textbooks, a notebook, one pencil, and stared at you with a challenging look in his sage gaze.

“It does now. I need help with this assignment”

Armin rolled his eyes as you pursed your lips, incredulous at such nerve.

“D’you think this is some sort of game?”

“Nah, a game would require you to remove that stick up your ass”

“Eren!”, Armin elbowed him in the arm, cheeks burning from an embarrassment that shouldn’t have been his.

So, in both your mind and conversations with friends, he became asshole, drunk on self-confidence, narcissistic Eren Yeager. Someone should’ve told him that being hot doesn’t give you a free card to also be a cocky fucker, so you simply won’t allow to whatever magic he works on everyone else to affect you as well. Even if his smile is warm as he jokingly throws a crumpled up piece of paper to his little sister, even if that dishevelled bun gives him a laid back look you can’t help but feel drawn to because it’s real, void of his usual, arrogant nonchalance.

“I’m kinda hungry” Gabi says after a while.

Eren glances at the clock hanging over the counter.

“Well, dad’s conference’s gonna last at least two more hours. Whatcha feel like eating? Grilled cheese?”

Her nose scrunches up in a disgusted but cute grimace.

“I’d like real food”

“Didn’t know bread and cheese were considered abstract food”

You can’t help but chuckle at the exchange and, as they both direct their gazes at you, an idea pops in your head.

“I could make noodles?”

Gabi perks up noticeably.

“Sure, we should have some instant noodles somewhere”, Eren gets up and walks towards the stove to start checking in drawers and cupboards. You get up as well, gently pushing him aside to grab a cutting board and carefully select what you need from the spices and sauces shelf: curry, cumin, white pepper, soy sauce. He looks at you, appalled, which makes you laugh again.

“I mean, I can make them from scratch if you don’t mind me messin' up your kitchen a bit. It’s healthier” you suggest with a shrug.

“Yes please!” Gabi cheers as her brother rolls his eyes at the enthusiasm. How on fuck did you manage to make her warm up to you that much in such a short time?

“I feel like you don’t get paid enough for this” he mumbles, to which you scoff.

“Don’t be ridiculous, it’s nothing. Gabi, why don’t you keep working in the living room? I’ll have to set the table” you turn around to glance at her and she gets up right away, diligently collecting everything she needs in her little arms. Eren waits until she’s out of the room to lean on the counter, arms crossed as he follows your every movement around the kitchen.

“Can you stop staring?” you ask, focused on emptying a generous amount of sesame oil in a non-stick frying pan.

“Why, do I make you nervous?”

“If you’re asking whether your presence is bothersome, the answer’s yes”

An amused smile tugs at his lips as he watches you cut a red onion into thin wedges and then add them to the pan while softly humming.

“Didn’t know we’re from the same town” Eren finds it only slightly annoying that you’re being such a sealed box to him. He’s seen the warmth you have so effortlessly unleashed on his sister and can now find it less astonishing, the fact that his best friend likes spending time with you.

You snort as you keep cutting other ingredients: mangetout, some baby park choi, three spring onions, baby corn. You’re good at it, even if you’re so fast his eyes can’t help but nervously flicker from your face to your fingers, tense at the idea that you migth cut off one of your digits. In his kitchen.

“Can you even remember my name?” the question is dripping with sarcasm but your hands are forced to come to a halt when he mutters it without hesitation. He finds pleasure in proving you wrong, in witnessing the way your shoulders had slightly jumped up in surprise. And you feel brain stuck on how his lips must’ve wrapped around your name, making it sound so much better than what you’re used to. It’s just a name and he’s just a guy, what kinda freaky black magic is he working?

“My sister likes you” as much as it’s fun to tease, he finds he enjoys seeing you at ease, relaxed enough to spend an entire afternoon giggling with a twelve year old and actually enjoying it. It works, because you instantly offer a gentle smile as you crush a large garlic clove with the pressure of your palm on the knife you’ve been using.

“I like her, too. It’s scary how clever she is”

“Runs in the family”

To his surpise, you can’t help but let out an airy laugh. It’s authentic, definitely not coated with snark, and he likes it. How many more times could he make you laugh like that again, he wonders?

“Can you pass me some udon noodles?” you ask after a few minutes of comfortable silence. By now everything you’re frying in that pan looks and smells delicious, the curry powder and soy sauce have given all ingredients a golden brown appearence that makes his stomach rumble. As you add some previously heated water to the pan, you can hear Eren opening drawer after drawer, until the distinct sound of plastic being ripped open makes you think he’s found what he’s looking for. You don’t have the time to turn around and reach out to grab the pack of noodles from his hand because he’s already right behind you, so close his chest actually presses to your back for a second as he reaches over to pour the noodles in the pan himself, his other hand casually gripping the counter inches away from your hip. The proximity is unexpected, shocking and pleasantly warm, so you swallow and clench the handle of the wooden spoon you’re using to stir the ingredients.

“Set the table, please” the strangled way words come out makes it sound as if you’re begging, which would usually entertain him but for some reason he can’t bring himself to find it funny, the way you’re luring him in. In fact, the whole situation is so far from being funny, he has to force his body to move away from yours and towards the cabinet where his mom keeps the plates, because what would become of him if you sensed he was on the verge of getting fucking hard from the domesticity of it all? For someone he’s never even actually talked to, no less. What kinda fucked up witchcraft were you practicing? And what on earth did you even use to wash your hair?

It’s soft, the way you call Gabi once the food is ready and it’s playful, the way you urge her to turn around and go wash her hands first, as she dramatically sighs but complies nevertheless. Against all odds where odds = vegetables, she ends up devouring two servings of what, he has to admit, is the best yaki udon he’s ever had. You’re barely picking at your small portion, too busy making sure Gabi eats all she wants.

By the end of a dinner mostly spent coming up with more story options for Holly Berry and giving patient answers to the hundreds questions Gabi has directed your way (Eren now knows your favorite color is turquoise, your younger brother’s name, what you’re going to give Christa as a christmas gift, when your birthday is, which exam took you the longest to study for) he has to insist both of you leave the dishes to him and go finish Holly’s story. You protest—it’s his house and you’re being paid to work—but he simply motions Gabi to drag you away and she surely complies, her small hand closing around yours to not so gently guide you out of the kitchen.

It’s hard not to marvel at the Yeagers’ living room, fire crackling in the wreath covered white marble fireplace beneath the 80+ inch tv mounted to the wall. In the corner stands a second christmas tree (they have one by the kitchen door as well), twice as high, glistening with golden and silver decorations, red ribbons sitting on alternated branches. The big, sectional sofa is covered in what’s probably soft leather and curled up on it is a snoozing tabby cat. Gabi drags you to the right side of the gigantic room, where a bigger, more elegant table stands in front of a gorgeous library with egg-crate shelves filled with books, finely framed family pictures, candles and white Chinese vases decorated with blue patterns made of dragons, clouds, tree branches filled with tiny flowers.

Of course Gabi has made a mess of the table but you smile as you sit, closer this time, letting her fill you up with the latest details she’s come up with for the now almost ten pages long story. She asks you to produce a few more sketches as she focuses on writing the big conclusion and you abide, the snow globe you have both created sitting in your periphereal view right next to your left arm.

“Are you gonna come over again?” she asks without looking up from the snow covered village she’s coloring in.

“If I’m needed and you don’t mind, sure” you smile, not looking at her either.

“What will we do if I don’t have any other schoolwork?”

“We could bake, start a puzzle, come up with another story to fill one of my killer notebooks in. Whatever you’d like”

This time she does look up to meet your gaze and you’re surprised to see the blush blossoming on her cheeks.

“Next time I could show you my room” she suggests while twisting an orange colored pencil in her hand.

“I’d love that” you smile again and she relaxes on the chair, acknowledging your reply with a slight nod.

Fifteen minutes later, you’re done. The story is complete (Holly eventually turns back into a human but decides not to leave the village he grew up in, to protect his friends and make sure his family of snowmen never melts) and the drawings are a wonderful addition to a heartwarming tale you’re sure her teacher is going to appreciate. You get up and help her tidy up the mess scattered across the table. As paper sheets are neatly piled, glitter pens are reunited with their caps as colored pencils with their box and the table is cleared of colorful shavings, Eren returns from the kitchen with hands buried in the pockets of his pajama bottoms and a fond smile tugging at his lips.

“So? How does Holly’s story end?” he asks, not once looking away from you.

“You’ll have to read it to find out” is the playful reply he gets and Eren crosses his heart that he will, in fact, read Holly Berry’s story. It’s only fair.

“I have to go now” you smile down at Gabi “I’ve had so much fun today, thank you for trusting me with your project”

She opens her mouth in a disappointed expression, hand reaching up to grab your sleeve and lightly pull.

“But we still have to watch that lame movie of yours!” she protests, outraged.

“Hey, I have already asked you to respect Balto” you jokingly reproach her “we’ll watch it next time, promise”

“Please, I want to watch it tonight! I won’t call it lame again!”

“Gabi, it’s really late—”

“Can I bribe you with hot cocoa?” Eren’s voice is softer than expected, which causes you to look at him, startled. Why isn’t he beaming at the idea of you finally leaving?

“With marshmallows” Gabi adds, tugging at your sleeve once again.

“Unless you’re so sick of my little sister you’re anxious to leave as soon as you can”

Low fucking blow.

“So long as I don’t miss the last bus home” you sigh, having barely the time to spare his smirk a glare before Gabi drags you all the way to the couch and promptly runs to the kitchen to get your backpack right after you fall on the soft fabric, waking the cat up. It’s not diffident as you might expect and after carefully sniffing the two fingers you politely offer as a personal introduction, it simply hops on your lap to curl up once again. A soft but demanding meow seems to ask for head scratches and, obviously, there’s nothing left to do but to comply.

“Are you plannin’ on winnin’ over every single Yeager family member?”

You don’t look at him, a weak attempt of playing your uneasiness off as indifference. But if there’s one thing you can’t guess about Eren Yeager, is that he’s in no rush, ever. Contrary to popular belief, he likes taking his time.

He’s not sure what it is about you, a stranger who’s barged in unannounced (well, to him, anyway) only to so effortlessly light up each room they’ve walked into. Someone capable of earning Gabi’s affection in such a short amount of time is bound to intrigue him at the very least, it’s normal, nothing unusual there. Right?

So what could be bothering him so much, he wonders while stirring cocoa powder, sugar, milk and salt in a saucepan. You haven’t been hostile, well, you’ve tried, but you were just unable to keep the facade up. You’ve laughed and smiled and joked and he feels this weird sting in the back of his throat just thinking about how nice of a person you must be on the daily, probably as good as the scent you carry around, and Eren has never wanted something as much as he now wants the book Christa is about to get as a christmas gift.

His hands are certainly big enough to comfortably balance tre mugs to bring to the couch with no risk of spilling but you’re so quick to turn around and reach over to get one, a soft I got it muttered with urgency as you pass the mug to Gabi and extend your hand to grab yours next. It’s probably for the best that his younger sister sits between the two of you and it makes him smile how invested she already is in a movie she didn’t even want to watch in the first place. The smile is still there when you both turn to look at him and laugh, Gabi pointing to his lips as he rolls his eyes and licks them clean of any whipped cream remains.

Gabi’s commentary slowly decreases in frequency and after ten minutes of silence, right as Balto and the sled team finally make it back to Nome, you feel a sudden, light weight on your shoulder. As you carefully take the empty mug out of her hands and place it on the coffee table, next to yours, you whisper an almost inaudible Eren.

“Should’ve guessed” the remark is gentle and there’s fondness in his gaze as he gets up to slowly pick his sister up, her arms finding their way around his neck as he balances her against his shoulder with a small hop.

“Be right back”  he whispers and you hum, briefly allowing your gaze to follow him as he exits the room, headed to the stairs. You get up as well, collect the emptied mugs and take them to the kitchen. Even if it’s late, so late you’ll probably have to find a cab and spend a fortune to reach your house, the least you can do is wash them and put them away. It’s been a long day but you’re not tired, quite the opposite actually. For whatever reason, you feel so on edge all you know is it’s time to leave that weird house, filled with a weird warmth that barely allows you to catch your breath, and get back to the comfort of your bed with its ice blue duvet and soft pillows.

“You’re missing the movie” the weird warmth carrier himself speaks, arms crossed, leaning into the door frame of the room as you dry your hands on your jeans.

“It’s for the best, I always cry at the end” you let out a faint chuckle and he mirrors it with a smile. He’s changed clothes and is now wearing a pair of washed out jeans and a v-neck shirt that has your gaze inevitably flicker to part of his inner forearm tattoo, one you can’t completely see because of how he’s standing. Does he also have one on his collarbone or are you seeing things?

“Before or after Rosy stops by the memorial in Central Park to thank Balto?”

“You’ve watched it! ” it’s hard to suppress the surprised smile immediately stretching your lips, the excitement in your voice. Damn it.

“And cried” he shrugs and you scoff as you walk past him to get your jacket from the coat rack by the front door.

“I’ll believe it when I see it” you put it on and pull the zipper, feeling some sort of discomfort on your back as you reach to grab your scarf too.

He’s in front of you in the blink of an eye, his hands casually slipping past and under the collar of your puffer jacket, fingers warm against your skin, nails only slightly grazing your neck as he fiddles around to pull out the hood of your sweatshirt. His fingers linger by your now feverish skin a few more seconds, definitely more than they should for someone who merely wanted to be of assistance.

Eren’s literally on the verge of asking you to stay. It doesn’t make sense, it’s ridiculous and lowkey pathetic, but he’s oh so bothered by the idea of losing whatever sudden, fragile wire you had managed to tie in the course of one afternoon. He wonders if you feel it, the way he’s so eerily drawn to you. And it’s not just because he hasn’t been laid in weeks (lost a bet to Connie and is now forced to keep it in his pants for a month), it’s not because he likes a challenge nor because he knows he’s been an asshole. You just feel so authentic. Unexpected.

As you let out a quivering breath, green eyes silently asking yours something you absolutely cannot pinpoint, the front door unlocks and your neck is left cold once again.

Eren’s parents come inside, his mom is a little taken aback at first but then puts the pieces together and begins to profusely apologize for both not having warned you that her son was back early and the fact that it’s so late you’ve probably already missed the last bus home.

“Please don’t worry about it, I had the best time with Gabi” you smile shyly, palms raised in an attempt to quell the string of embarrassed apologies threatening to submerge you. Carla looks at her son for some sort of reassurance, brows still distressingly furrowed.

Eren hums from behind you.

“Can’t remember the last time she had so much fun. She’s already asleep”

They both smile and Grisha gives you a soft nod while taking off his coat.

“Thank you. We know she’s not the easiest to deal with”

“Took her ten minutes to win her over” Eren speaks again, he feels closer this time but you don’t dare turn around. Carla puts both her hands on your shoulders and squeezes lightly.

“Please accept an extra for the trouble”

“There’s been no trouble Mrs. Yeager, I promise” you attempt a reassuring smile and she sighs, turning to look at her husband with a troubled look in her big eyes.

“Let us call you a cab at least” phone is already in his hand as he gently pushes back the thin framed glasses on his nose.

“No need dad, I’ll drop her off”

This time you do turn around, mouth open on the verge of objection, but he’s already put a jacket on and has your backpack in his hand.

“Good idea. Take my car” Grisha takes the keys out of the pocket of his now hung coat and casually throws them at his son.

“You really don’t need to” you do your best to sound polite but Eren can see the daggers you’re shooting him and simply smirks, eyes rolling by default.

“Always so polemic” he mutters under his breath as his dad opens the front door once again and there’s really nothing left to do but to sigh into your scarf, repeat ten more times or so that you had a wonderful time with Gabi and you’d be happy to be back whenever they’d need you to and awkwardly return the hug Carla decides to abruptly give you on your way out.

You climb onto the passenger seat of the black mercedes-benz waiting by the end of the driveway and you exhale with relief as your butt comes in contact with the heated leather of the seat.

“I meant it, y’know. I live half an hour away” you mutter while fiddling to fasten your seatbelt. Eren glances at the rear window as he skillfully turns the steering wheel, one hand closing on the gear knob to move the lever gently.

“D’you always protest against everything?” the question is friendly as he releases the clutch pedal and presses on the accelerator. The engine purrs pleasantly underneath you.

“If needed” you shrug, determined to focus on the houses and gardens you’re driving by at a sustained speed. It’s dark enough for you can spot glistening trees by windows and sparkly christmas decorations in yards. You briefly wonder if your dad’s feeling better, good enough to have had a few spoons of the soup you’ve left him.

“You forgot the movie at mine” Eren says, with studied casualness. It’s the perfect excuse to ask you to come over again, or to bring it back himself. Hell, he will hand it to you in the middle of any class if he has to.

“Let it be my christmas gift to Gabi. She never got to see how it ends”

His hand tightens around the steering wheel.

“How’re you so good with kids?”

Finally, you turn to peer at him, head pressed against the warm leather seat. It’s kinda annoying, how he’s wearing a jacket, because you still can’t find out what his tattoo looks like. However, you do take notice of how pretty his nose is, of the shape of his jawline and of how the intermittent, orangy light of street lamps shines on the darkness of his hair, eyebrows, eyelashes. And who even has cheekbones like that?

When his gaze flickers to you with a soft yet amused, questioning hum, you remember he’d asked you a question.

“I used to take care of my brother when dad was at work” you clear your throat, directing your attention to the road in front of you once again “and I like spending time with ‘em. It’s a nice break from adulthood”

He hums again but this time you don’t dare look at him.

“So you’re good with kids, school, great at drawing and cooking. Is there something you’re bad at?”

“So many things” you softly chuckle “besides, you’re good with kids and at drawing too”

“How d’you know? That I’m good with kids”

“Gabi told me you’re the best brother in the world. But you haven’t heard it from me”

“Not really a secret, I already knew that” he sounds cocky but you can guess from his tone that he's smiling. All day long he’s looked at his sister with a fondness impossible to conceal, the kind that stems from pure, raw affection. The kind that soothed you, because how to not be happy before the evidence of Gabi having an older brother that loves her so much? It reminded you of how you used to be with your brother, the way he’d scoff and tell your dad never to leave him with you all day again, only to slide onto the mattress beside you in the middle of the night.

“I wish I still had a little brother to take care of” you find yourself mumbling.

Eren glances at you, to his annoyance you’re still facing the other way.

“How old is he?”

“Old enough to smoke in his room but still dumb enough to think I can’t smell it” you snort and he laughs a genuine laugh. The car stops at a red light, even though the streets are empty. It’s good to know that he drives responsibly, or maybe it’s just because it’s his dad’s car, who knows.

“I’ll have to teach him my ways, he’ll never get caught again” he’s half joking but you pull a face, rolling your eyes.

“You would” it’s inevitable, turning your head to look at him again. It’s also a big ass mistake, because who in hell looks that attractive underneath a basic, red traffic light?

“What’s that supposed to mean?” his pitch is amused but the way he’s staring at you almost, almost makes you wince. Okay so, eyes? Dangerous. Note taken. You focus on the bridge of his nose instead.

“You seem like the type of person to do that. Get away with things”

Eren Yeager isn’t one to get insecure. In fact, he doesn’t even remember the last time he has felt uncertainty, or self-doubt. And now he ever so slightly shuffles in his seat, suddenly self-conscious and preoccupied with what you think of him. Not concerned with the superficial thoughts you might have about his cocky attitude or vanity, he’s worried about what you might think of him as a person. How bad does your opinion actually get?

“And you don’t like that” he states, with studied but careful measure. You frown.

“Well, duh. You just volunteered to cover for my brother”

He lets out a puff of air from his nose, both relieved and annoyed at your humor. Guess he’ll have to add deflecting to the list of things you’re good at.

“What did you get him for christmas?” he asks as his eyes are on the road again, the traffic light turning green. Safe from his piercing gaze, you don’t look away yet.

“The new pokemon legends game so he can say I’m the best sister in the world and forget about it ten minutes later” Eren’s smile mirrors yours by default as his grip on the steering wheel relaxes.

“What’s Gabi going to get?”

“A portable speaker, so she can blast Taylor Swift for the whole neighborhood to hear”

“Excellent music taste” you grin and he rolls his eyes with fake exhaustion.

The rest of the trip is comfortably quiet and so peaceful you struggle to keep your eyes open. When the car stops right before your house and you reach across the backseat to grab your backpack, there’s a weird gloom churning in the pit of your stomach. You clear your throat as you unlock the door, one leg already out of the vehicle.

“Thank you” your tone is soft as you glance at him one last time. Eren nods, hands now awkwardly resting on his knees.

You step out of the car and close the door as delicately as possible.

Things being back home for the holidays usually means:

a)indulging in your dad’s creamy homemade hot cocoa, b) having at least one christmas movie night with Historia, c) hugging your brother until he pinches your hip because he can’t breathe from how tight you're squeezing him, d) cooking and eating and napping on repeat

Things being back home for the holidays doesn’t usually mean:

a) forgetting your favorite sweater at your dorm like a dumbass, b) finding out your dad fell prey of food poisoning, c) acknowledging that your favorite blanket is nowhere to be found, d) having Eren Yeager call you by your name right after you step out of his car, only to peer at you with staggering eyes and ask

“What are you doing on new year’s eve?”

part 2

TUTORING

➙ description: you could use a tutor for your classes, and armin’s more than happy to help you out.

➙ pairing: armin x fem!reader

➙ content: 18+ ONLY, nsfw/smut, modern/college au, oral (fem receiving), penetration, unprotected sex, cream pie.

➙ word count: 2k

How lucky you were.

A bittersweet form of destiny must have taken pity on you, some god up above watching the little frown settle across your face as your eyes scanned over your bright laptop screen. You blinked, widened your eyes and squinted them as if to reset the factory settings of your retinas.

But your vision was just fine.

You were reading everything correctly.

The mocking grade of “C” stared back at you just seconds after submitting your math assignment. It wasn’t a high one either. It was embarrassing low, dancing dangerously close to the edge of becoming a D.

As you worked on your complicated equations, the sun had kissed the world goodbye, and soon enough, the dark night sky greeted you.

Hours upon hours had rolled on by. You were hunched over your desk, cluttered with pieces of scratch paper where you scribbled down little equations. Eraser shavings were starting to stick to the side of your hand, as they became wet and bothersome from the condensation dripping off of your water bottle.

At some point during the night, time became a foreign concept. Your fingers ached from repeatedly typing into your scientific calculator. A headache was brewing like a distant thunderstorm with every second you strained your eyes to solve an endless amount of math problems.

By the time you submitted your work with about twelve solid minutes to spare, your laptop was the only source of light in your little apartment. It was also the source of your current despair.

Another C.

Your grades were sinking faster than a wrecked ship. You attended every single lecture, jotting down every wise word that fell from the lips of your professors, even little bits of information that were probably completely unnecessary to take note of.

Studying was your only hobby nowadays. You were in a relationship with your textbooks. Dark undereye circles from lack of proper rest decorated your face. Nature Valley Bar wrappers, empty plastic water bottles, and aspirin were what you deemed as fine dining as of late. You worked your ass off to learn more about your course material than you did about your own personality, and even so, you could only sit there and stare at one of the several low scores you’ve received this week.

You couldn’t figure out why.

It was a mystery as to what you were doing incorrectly.

Although it seemed as if you couldn’t figure anything out, you didn’t need a textbook nor a calculator to come to the conclusion that, perhaps, you needed a tutor.

Three days out of the week, you had psychology class. It was an exhausting walk all the way across campus to reach the tall brick building that smelt of ancient books and stale coffee.

With every single step up the echoing old stairs, your legs ached. You should have received a good grade for dedication alone, as getting to that damned lecture hall was no easy feat. Even so, you climbed those steps with purpose. Determination.

After all, you needed to talk to that blonde-haired guy.

Armin Arlert was a classmate of yours with a godly GPA. The type of person to sit in the front row. Never showed up to class in sweatpants or in the shirt he slept in the night before. He often asked and answered questions, making him the one student that his professors actually knew the name of in their enormous classes.

You never spoke to him, but in a student-only groupchat for your class, a few fellow classmates had mentioned his unofficial tutoring service. According to one of your friends, he’d meet you at the library or the outdoor sitting areas, and help you study and absorb the course material like a sponge.

For a price, of course.

But that wasn’t the case with you.

When you approached him after psychology class, he gave you a polite smile as he stood there, patiently listening to you ramble on and on about your situation with one strap of his backpack over his shoulder.

“I really don’t know why I’m struggling, but if you have the time, I’d really appreciate your help.” Glancing up at the practical stranger, it was quite difficult to read his face. He had a friendly grin, but nothing truly revealed whether or not he’d bother with helping you before your next exam. After all, he had to study too. Not only that, but he had a few scheduled sessions with regulars, and despite your pleady eyes, if he couldn’t squeeze you in this afternoon, then it simply couldn’t be helped.

“Sure,” he said. “I can help you right now.”

“Really?” You raised your eyebrows. “Don’t you have other people to tutor? I wouldn’t wanna cause any trouble, ya know?”

“No, it’s fine!” His smile brightened, and it was a grin that complimented his big blue eyes. “I can squeeze you in for about two or three hours. Will that work?”

“That’ll be great, thank you!” You could’ve hugged him. “How much will it cost?”

“Um,” suddenly, he paused, and those pale cheeks of his reddened a bit. “Don’t worry about any of that. It’s…It’ll be free.”

“Free? How come?” You tilted your head a bit, a subconscious act, but one that made Armin’s heart skip a beat.

“Just feeling generous.”

There it was. That luck. A god’s pity, you figured.

—

Several apologies slipped out of your mouth once you and Armin made it to your apartment. From the very second you slipped your key into the hole, Armin awkwardly standing behind you as you unlocked your door, welcoming him into the messy space as a result of your fruitless study sessions, apologetic excuses fell from your lips.

He told you that it was okay. Repeatedly. Even as he stepped over a stack of textbooks on the floor.

“Don’t be sorry,” Armin grinned softly. “This only shows me that you’re really trying your best to keep your grades up. It’s nice to know that I’m tutoring someone who’ll actually take my lessons to heart since they wanna improve.”

“Well,” you paused, reaching over your kitchen table to hurriedly grab scattered pieces of paper and empty water bottles. “I would’ve made the time to clean up, I just didn’t think that you’d actually agree to tutor me on such a short notice! I also kinda heard that you typically tutor people at the library or something, so I guess I wasn’t expecting company.”

He said nothing, rolling up his sleeves to drag the heavy textbooks from your floor to the table.

Thanks to his help, the both of you were nose deep into the course material in only a couple of minutes.

—

“Try it again,” Armin said softly, underlining an apparent mistake in your math work with his red pen. “You’re getting stumped right here, see?”

Glancing down at your paper, eyeing the equations you scribbled, it all started to seem like a foreign concept to you.

You wanted to blame it on Armin. You wanted to say that your lack of concentration was due to the way his knee gently touched yours, or the way he looked into your eyes with those beautiful blue orbs of his. Perhaps, it could’ve been because of the way he ran a hand through his blonde hair before he started to explain a new topic, or the sight of the veins in his arms and hands, properly on full display since he never bothered to roll the sleeves of his white buttoned shirt back down.

It also could’ve been the fact that he was sitting so close to you. Speaking so gently. Glancing at you so caringly.

It almost slipped your mind that he was practically a stranger, a simple acquaintance from class.

“You’re not paying attention,” Armin’s voice snapped you back to reality.

“Sorry,” you mumbled. “I’m just…distracted.”

“I’ve only worked with you for about thirty minutes now, but it seems as if you remember all of the formulas and steps to solving each problem, but it’s like you get overwhelmed halfway through solving the equation.”

Armin’s eyes flickered between you and your paper.

“Believe it or not, I don’t think you need a tutor. I think you’re just stressed out.”

“What?” You frowned at him.

“You’re rushing through the problems and making simple mistakes, that’s all. I really think that you just need to relax a bit.”

“Well…I really don’t know how to stop being so tense.”

“That’s alright,” Armin gave you another soft grin. “I can help with that as well.”

His touch was gentle, a soft thumb stroking your cheek before lightly gracing your bottom lip.

“I don’t think that you’ll be able to properly relax without my help. Not with the way you were looking at me just now.”

As your face burned with embarrassment, you wanted to stammer out some sort of excuse or pathetic apology, but he suddenly pressed his soft lips against yours.

He pulled away for a second. Perhaps, it was to see how you’d react. He reconnected your lips a moment later, only this time, he kissed you deeply, yet slowly.

Armin’s large hand held your head still. A moan slipped from his throat when he felt your lips moving against his, and he swirled his tongue around yours hungrily. It caught you by surprise, a little gasp escaping from you, and he gave a short laugh. You were absolutely precious to him.

—

With your body leaned back against your couch, legs wide open and hooked over Armin’s shoulders, he couldn’t help but admire your pretty pussy.

The sight of it made his mouth water. Reaching down into his own pants, he pulled out his hard dick, stroking his own cock as he dived right into your cunt.

You gasped once more. With his eyes on you, he watched your own eyelids flutter. He wondered how much time had passed since the last time someone gave you a proper orgasm. You were so tense, so stressed…he just had to help you relax.

With that, Armin rapidly licked at your clit. He sucked on your little button, moaning at the delicious taste of your cunt. He fell in love with the way you said his name.

“Armin…oh my god,” you moaned, gripping his hair as his tongue worked on your sensitive clit.

He explored your hole, pushing his tongue in just a little to see how tight you were. When he felt the resistance, he almost came right then and there.

It wasn’t long before your juices flooded his hungry mouth.

“You taste so good,” he mumbled, right before devouring your cunt and lapping up the mess you made.

Your orgasm was a beautiful one, strong enough to distract you from the way Armin was repositioning your body.

Suddenly, he was above you, lining up his cock with your entrance. He looked so beautiful that way. That fact that a face as gorgeous as his was right between your thighs only moments ago made you glance away with pure shame, and even more so when he thrusted into you, pressing his body against yours with his face only a couple of inches away.

“Shit,” he mumbled, burying his face in your neck. “So tight.”

He kissed the sweet spot below your jaw gently.

“How long has it been since someone fucked you properly?” He pulled away, looking into your eyes as you clenched around his cock, adjusting to his size.

“I-I don’t rem-”

A sharp moan broke out from your own throat, followed by another. He cut you off with a deep thrust. He fucked you impatiently, and for such a sweet and caring person, he slammed in and out of you like he wanted to ruin you.

“So good…you feel so good, baby,” he moaned.

He kissed you once more. It was a brief, deep one, as he couldn’t explore your mouth like he wanted to. Not when he couldn’t even control his moans.

You were blabbering something, tears falling from your eyes, your breasts bouncing so deliciously in terms of how he could feel them pressed against his chest. He figured that you wanted him to slow down, but he couldn’t.

From the very first day of class, when you walked into that lecture as the serious schoolgirl who could desperately use a good fucking, Armin’s dreamed of having you underneath him like this.

He couldn’t slow down even if he wanted to. Sorry, but he needed you. He needed to fuck you like an animal, and with every thrust, he was falling more and more in love with you and your pussy.

“Gonna cum,” he choked out, sweat pooling across his forehead. “I’m gonna cum inside of you, okay? Be a good girl and take it for me…take it.”

His thrusts became more sloppy. With his moans mixing with yours, and you cumming all over his cock, he couldn’t last another second. Not with the way your clenching pussy was milking him for all he was worth. He shot his load inside of you. Ropes of his cum spilled out of his sensitive cock, and you were going to take every single drop of it. He made sure of that.

“Armin,” you mumbled his name, struggling to catch your breath.. “Thank…thank you.”

Pulling his cock out of you, he smiled.

“Of course, sweetheart. Let’s try to work on those problems again, okay? If you can get them right, I’ll fuck you again. I’ll give it to you however you’d like.”

With that, it was your turn to smile.

“Deal.”

♡ thanks for reading! don’t forget to like, reblog, & comment!

♡ masterlist

thinking about... mikasa finding your number in her serial cheater boyfriend's (eren) phone. her jealousy of you immediately morphing into that for her boyfriend for getting access to you first. Upon seeing the nudes you’ve sent him, she’d scoff at disgust as to how he even got lucky enough to get your attention in the first place. her feelings for him subsiding upon seeing you—literal perfection. the sight of your plump ass and dripping cunt turning her on along with those sweet sweet moans in the video of you humping your pillow you’d sent.

not being able to control herself, she’d send the pics and videos to herself just to lock herself in the bedroom, fluttering her eyes shut and grind onto her own pillow. imagining she was rubbing her cunt against yours, your cries echoing in her ears as the video played aloud. she only wished she knew what name to cry out as she came, squirting all over the pillow (something eren had never made her do) but unfortunately he never saved your number or mentioned it in the conversations you had.

during the times where eren invites you over to the apartment when she’s away, mikasa will come back to find your panties under the bed. the only reasons she knows they are yours is because she’s seen them in the pictures you’ve sent eren. she steals them before eren even notices you left them behind and keeps them for herself. she’ll slip them on to toy with her clit through the thin fabric, her arousal only increasing upon noting that her juices have mixed with yours.

eventually poor mikasa gets fed up with fantasizing about having you and chooses to take initiative to set things in motion so that she finally does get a taste of that sweet cunt that she hears eren mention when having phone sex with you. so, mikasa steals your number from his phone. She texts you and plays the role of the heartbroken girl asking for answers about her boyfriends cheating.

“hey, so sorry to bother you. I was wondering how you knew eren? I found your number in his phone and.. well I have a few questions.”

“is it possible for us to meet up?”

she invites you to a cafe nearby and though hesitant to join her you oblige when she reassures you that she has no anger towards you and just wants clarity in the situation. things go smooth and the two of you meet up a few times after that, just for the sake of getting to know one another and eren becomes a forgotten topic.

one thing leads to another, with flirtatious words like pretty girl and babe, glances being passed back and forth the two of you end up back at the very apartment you’d hooked up with eren in. her hands gripping at your ass, the very ass she’s been dying to get her hands on as your lips are locked with hers. the two of you struggle to make it to the bed the pooling heat in both your cores becoming unbearable. you end up on the couch. she wastes no time, sliding your panties off and burying her face into your cunt, sucking away at your clit. “oh..my..more..please..” your hips bucking against her face as she slides her fingers through your folds, she tries her best to slurp up your juices dripping beneath you but you're making such a mess it’s hard for her to keep up.

“like that, baby?” “erens been neglecting this pretty pussy, he doesn’t know how to take care of you does he?” her thumb drawing circles into your clit. you shake your head too dizzy to form a response you let out moans, your thighs entrapping her face in your cunt with your hand to her head. speak of the devil, eren enters the apartment, with his new hook up on his arm that he had (your replacement due to you blowing him off to hang with mikasa )..not expecting mikasa to be home at this time— let alone be faced with the sight of his side chick being devoured by his girlfriend . he brings a hand to his forehead and sighs.

“you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me..”

my masterlist!

true gift

A god like Naoya is about to see how his little mortal is hiding a true gift.

REQUEST.  deity au + virgin sacrifice for naoya + reader with worship kink

CONTENT/WARNINGS. virginity loss, naoya isn’t nice, mentions of blood,  murder, abduction, praise kink, slight degradation, fingering, overstimulation, slight breeding kink, creampie, orgasm denial, mentions of slavery, face fucking, reader is willingly consenting to pain, reader is a masochist, naoya is a sadist 

NOTES. ah…it feels so natural to write naoya…also can someone send me some good erotic hentai panels, yay <3

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