You, Yourself (diluc)

you, yourself (diluc)

pairing - diluc ragnvindr x gender neutral reader

word count - 2552

genre - angst with comfort

format - fic

warnings - changing yourself for the sake of others, crying, one sided discourse

summary - after a long day of work and fueled by exhaustion, diluc impulsively says some things he doesn't mean to you, his lover, and is confused when the next day you aren't acting like yourself and more like him.

a/n - yeah this is heavy. changing yourself to please others really sucks. additional note, the reader is a bit stylized for plot purposes meaning they have a bit of a personality to them but i still hope it makes for a good angsty experience. there'll be more of this topic with the other characters i write for which is why diluc's name is in brackets :)

content under the cut!

if master diluc were to embody wispy shadows and the darkness of night, you were a basket of sunshine and embodied warm, fuzzy bumble bees.

diluc himself wasn't exactly sure how he'd managed to fall at your feet, heart on his sleeve instead of locked away behind his chest. for someone who lives in the dark, you were the end of the tunnel, his bright light. he'd managed to stumble his way into love and yet you welcomed him with open arms, took his hands and said "we'll do it together."

you were no different, always the bubbly and cheerful one you'd found yourself at a loss for words when one day you realized the elusive and mysterious master diluc had captured your heart. in a way his liking to the shadows and quiet demeanor drew you in not unlike a moth to a flame.

you weren't total opposites though, after all a relationship needs to have some middle ground. you both loved chess, private time, and a good book in the early moments of evening when the crickets in the bushes that surrounded dawn winery had yet to come out.

a bit of an "oddball couple" (as kaeya affectionately referred to the pair of you), it wasn't uncommon for many locals to see your hand intertwined with the wine tycoon's as you walked towards angel's share—you rambling on about a pretty butterfly or the like you'd seen during your commissions today, while diluc simply nodded and listened along with a loving smile on his face.

diluc at first was hesitant to reach out to someone so luminous like yourself. where you thrived in light he lurked in shadows and he wasn't all that sure that his affections would manifest into anything meaningful. he can still fondly recall your comment on his perception: "to hell with opposites! i like you, you like me, that's all that matters!" you had said with the biggest grin you had to offer.

and you were right, despite your differences the only fact that mattered was that you loved each other. you both believed so at least.

but as of late, diluc's patience had been running thin. the lack of sleep combined with hours upon hours of work both for his business and for the protection of mondstat left him weary and lethargic. by the end of the week he felt little more than a shell of a man.

today, he'd woken up with a glorious three hours of sleep to his name, left in a hurry without the breakfast you carefully prepared (to which he deeply apologized with a kiss on your cheek), sat through countless boring meetings, and sifted through mountains of transportation and quality check documents.

by the time he was to bartend at angel's share for the night, the exhaustion was visible on his sullen face. the shot glasses in his palms felt as heavy as lead, and though drink orders came in through one end of his ear, they always exited out the other side like the faintest of winds. and something else brewed quietly within the confinements of his mind: anger fueled by exhaustion and frustration. he'd almost snapped at a nearby drunkard but managed to reign himself in, though he didn't know how long he could keep it up.

"maybe you should take a break boss..." diluc was brought back from his thoughts into reality when charles placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"...i'm fine," he meant to mumble, but it emerged from his lips more like a sour grumble.

he turned to resume mixing drinks when your hand came to rest upon his knuckles, stilling his movements.

"actually charles, he'll take you up on that suggestion. come on diluc." you gently pried the glass away from him.

"(y/n)." from his stern eyes and warning tone alone you could tell he wasn't happy with your interjection.

"i'm sorry, but you need some rest, even for just a few minutes." you smiled apologetically and took him by the arm, pushing the back entrance door open in the process.

the cool night air did little to calm the simmering anger and frustration that had been swimming in the deepest pits of his stomach for the past few days. in an attempt to get a grip on himself, he leaned his forearms on the wooden beams and massaged his burning temples with the tips of his fingers.

"feeling better?" with a gentle smile you placed your palm on his shoulder.

"...quite." he grunted, though his grainy voice betrayed his response.

"you don't really think i'd believe that right?" your teasing smile fell when he made no move to reciprocate or validate your comment. "you've been working so hard lately," you paused to collect your thoughts, and tried to pick up the mood with your signature brightness, "but on the bright side at least you've accomplished so much! i'm very proud of you and you should be proud of yourself too." still, no answer from your lover.

heaving a heavy sigh, you spoke up once again. "you're doing your best no matter what, i hope you realize tha-"

"must you always be like this?" the atmosphere suddenly grew cold and bitter, as did his voice.

"be...be like what?" your smile grew confused and began to feel out of place on your face.

"you drag me out here in the middle of a shift and for what- for me to listen to your rambles again?" he sucked in a sharp breath through gritted teeth and met your puzzled eyes, the ends of his fingers dug into the polished wooden banister in front of him.

"di-"

"there's no end to it is there? you simply ramble on and on and expect me to listen but there's only so much i can take. archons forbid you ever shut your mouth for once." the eyes that had looked at you so fondly this morning now burned with quiet passion, as if the gentle flips of a fan over cooling embers had begun to rapidly move up and down. you stood in utter bewilderment and hurt, each syllable of his words slapping you across the face like a whip.

diluc however, seemed not to notice the utter look of pain on your face. the rims of your eyes began to pool with tears as you desperately looked at him for any sense of rationality.

"diluc could we talk-"

i simply do not have time for this, please excuse me." he scoffed and brushed past you back in through the doors of the tavern.

and all you could do was stand there, watching as his figure retreated past the wooden door, and let his words ferment in your mind as tears cascaded down your face.

the words you so badly wanted to speak got caught in your throat and coagulated in place.

***

diluc doesn't remember how he managed to fumble through his last shift at angel's share, nor does he remember exactly how he somehow stumbled home and flopped into bed still wearing his day clothes. what he does remember is the feel of your hand on his knuckles, and nothing else. everything was a blur mixed in with exhaustion and frustration.

the morning greeted him with an aching spine that sent shoots of pain down towards his legs. unconsciously, his hands stretched out seeking the warmth of your body...

...only to find your side of the bed cold. his eyes snapped open and, though blearily, he scanned the room in search of your figure. perhaps you'd simply gotten up to use the restroom or change clothes. but much to his bewilderment, you were nowhere in sight. your side of the bed had been neatly made. the satchel you usually carried everywhere hung from a nearby rack in the entrance to the bedroom.

confused, he managed to clamber off of his awkward sleeping position from the bed and went about his morning routine. the feeling of going through the motions of his morning felt off without you by his side, reminding him to brush in circles instead of straight lines, or adjusting the broach on his chest while he fumbled with the buttons of your shirt.

he finished up and pulled open his bedroom door, only to jump in surprise when you stood there, fist raised as if you were about to knock.

"good morning." you politely smiled, looking at him with loving eyes.

the minute you opened your mouth, diluc felt a sick feeling crawl up his spine. your voice, it was odd, something he couldn't place his finger on.

"good morning, my love." he pressed a swift kiss to your forehead.

"i've made breakfast." there it was again, your voice. something was wrong, despite the fact that you looked perfectly normal, even your signature smile was on full display.

as if to silently ask you if something had happened, he placed one of his large, warm hands on your shoulder, the other finding solace on your cheek.

"you could have woken me up. i thought you loved my pancakes?" he spared a teasing smile, just for you, but it fell flat quickly. usually you'd make a witty remark or tease him just the same. but instead you simply stood there, that same smile on your face, and took his hand.

"the food will get cold." you spoke quietly, tugging him towards the stairs.

he obliged and followed but the nauseating feeling eating away at diluc's skin hadn't ceased. something was wrong, he could feel it. and yet as you sat down in front of him at the dining table and cut into your waffles, you appeared perfectly normal.

diluc mimicked your actions and stuck his fork into a strawberry. he looked at you expectantly, knowing that during the morning at breakfast, this was where you'd eagerly talk about the activities you had planned for the day. and yet you sat, munching on your waffles surrounded by a thick fog of silence.

he cleared his throat and met your eyes. "darling, what do you have planned for the day?" instead of going on an animated rollercoaster of dialogue like you usually did, you merely shrugged your shoulders and stuck another bite of waffles into your mouth. diluc frowned, now he knew something was up.

when breakfast had finished, he tried to pull you aside from the hustle and bustle around the winery but you took off with the excuse of needing to get to the guild early.

while he went through the motions of his day, he couldn't get his interactions with you out of his head. diluc hadn't feel the presence of that spark you held that he loved so much. what remained felt cold, and empty. it was quite unlike you to hold your tongue and keep your voice down, it bothered him to no end.

while he sat through meetings, the only face he saw was your eerily calm one. while signing documents, he could only remember the unusual quietness of your voice. these thoughts taunted him all throughout the day, he ended up abandoning what little work he had done in order to catch you before you scurried off towards another commission.

luckily for him, he caught you just as you were cashing in your last commission as dusk began to fall.

"(y/n) i'd really like to have a word with you." he panted, having run all the way from the winery to mondstat. one of his hands perched itself his knee and the other softly gripped your elbow. you nodded and let him lead you to the lake behind mondstat's walls.

"is something the matter my love? you've barely spoken a word." with both hands he took your face into his palms and thumbed your cheeks. his brows furrowed, creasing in the middle, the worry no longer held closed behind the cages of his mind.

you heaved a deep sigh and cast your gaze towards the grassy floor coated in the last remaining rays of sunlight, in favor of staring into his searing red eyes.

"i'm just a bit scared." you mumbled, reaching up to grip his charcoal coat. "scared? of what? have you been threatened?" you couldn't help but silently laugh to yourself and shook your head rapidly.

"no, none of that. i just...wish not to upset you." dumbfounded, diluc could only look at you with confused eyes.

and suddenly he felt his heart drop to the deepest pits of his stomach. the words he'd spouted towards you out of pure frustration and exhaustion hit him like a ton of bricks as he looked through the fog that clouded his memory. concern and worry replaced themselves with an enormous wave of guilt as his horrified face looked towards you.

"(y/n) i- i can't believe i said that i-..." his grip from your shoulder slackened as he stepped back, raising a hand to his mouth as the guilt in his stomach swished and swayed like a torrential stormy sea. you fumbled with your hands, a bit at a loss for words.

"i just wanted to make sure you were okay...i didn't mean to make it worse...i'm sor-"

"no, no. do not apologize, i'm the one who should be groveling at your feet for forgiveness." he interrupted you, running his gloved hand through his frazzled locks.

"diluc..." you took his hand that had been gripping his mouth and held it in both of yours. "i won't lie, what you said hurt me deeply. but i know you were just exhausted and-"

"no, please. don't make excuses for me. i've made a mistake (y/n), but i promise you," his burning hands found their way into yours, gripping them with a passion you'd never seen in him before, "i meant none of those words. i love listening to you, i love your voice- archons you have the most lovely voice. please, even if you are to leave me i ask that you never hold your tongue-" he opened his mouth to speak more but you cut him off by slinging your arms around his neck and pulling him close to you in a comforting hug.

"i won't leave you diluc." you mumbled into his shirt.

diluc's hands hovered in the air before holding you to his body in a desperate grip. "i deeply apologize, no words could ever describe how sorry i am that you heard those vile words from me, my love." you felt his trembling lips fall upon your temple, then your cheek. you pulled your face back to look him in the eye only to find tears running down his burning face. with a smile—a genuine smile—you rose your hands up and wiped away the streaks from his face.

"thank you, i really appreciate the apology." you pressed your forehead against his and brushed your noses.

he buried his face in the crook of you neck and breathed words you only rarely ever heard from him: "i love you." of course, you never needed to hear him say it to know how he felt, but whenever he did say it, he made sure to save it for just the right moment.

"i love you too diluc, thank you." you planted a kiss in his hair and buried yourself deeper into his embrace.

date published: june 25th, 2021

10:00 PM

You had agreed to meet him in your dorm room at 10 p.m.

It's half-past eight, and you've been alone with your thoughts for far too long. There were no messages, not even from your friends. Of course, it's not because they dislike you. Everyone is just too preoccupied with final exams right now. You should probably study for yours, but you believe the three days you've spent cooped up in your room have prepared you enough, if not too much.

The internet connection in the dorm building is agonizingly slow, allowing your show to run at 480 frames per second.

I can’t even finish this god damned episode.

You made the decision to leave your room before going insane. There’s a lounge on the second floor of your building, so you decided to head there.

The room has bean bags, couches, a table, some seats, a vending machine, and a TV. It's nine in the evening, you've had your dinner, so you've settled on some chips. You chose to sit on the brown leather couch in front of the TV, your legs resting on the sofa's arms. Because students aren't allowed to change the channel, you're stuck watching the news.

Well, it’s not like I have anything better to do.

A couple of minutes later, two students enter the room. They're giggling all the way to the table, their arms locked. You give them a quick glance before averting your gaze to avoid drawing unwanted attention to yourself. You return your gaze to the television and see a man being arrested for drug use in a bar's staff room.

Soon enough, the giggles become too loud, interfering with your ability to watch in peace.

Can’t they fucking do this someplace else?

You glance at the couple and see them eating each other’s faces out. But instead of being more frustrated, your mind wanders over a certain boy.

The two of you had no label for whatever you two had. Just people who are more than friends but less than lovers. It's not like you were keeping it from everyone or your friends. You had just agreed to keep it that way. The reason for so, though, was uncertain. Perhaps out of fear? Fear of what others would say, or fear that if you made it known to everyone and things went bad, it would be absolutely embarrassing. But maybe you both just wanted each other for yourself. Who knows.

He isn't unpopular. Girls are definitely lining up for him. When he gets tired of you, it won't be long before there's a replacement for you right by his side. The most daunting aspect of it all is that you already have a female candidate in mind for the position. She's been suspicious of you both ever since she saw you holding hands in a café. She's also very attractive. And smart. And incredibly fucking kind. That is the most upsetting aspect of it all. She’s a sweet girl. She’s known him since freshman year and developed a much-too-obvious crush on him.

You admit that in some aspects, she’s definitely better than you.

Hell, if I were him, I’d choose her.

So tonight, you think. Think of where he is. Is she there by his side, as she should be? Is he entertaining her? Is she making him happy? These awful thoughts linger in your mind for the remainder of your stay in the dorm lounge, with the TV playing in the background and the giggles of that damned couple who prompted this dilemma.

Fuck, it’s quarter to ten. I’m gonna be late.

And so he runs.

He’s been at the bar since 5. As a reward for finishing the exam, a group of his classmates invited everyone out for a drink. Mr. Congeniality that he is, he gladly joins in. The girl he’s known since freshman year sticks by his side. She’s nice, he thinks. However, a distinct image of someone comes to mind. He glances at his watch, which reads 8:30 p.m.

To be honest, he's tired of it. The party, the people, and the beverages. All he can think about right now is leaving this bar and going back to their dorm. Eating take-out together, watching random Youtube videos on their bed, and keeping them close enough to smell that fresh coconut shampoo they use that he loves so much. But it would be too weird.

Because they aren't his significant other, arriving early would be too obvious. He clearly likes them more than he's letting on. But he's not sure how much longer he can go on like this. Clandestine meetings and longing gazes. He wants to walk around campus with them, post pictures of their dates, and let everyone know that he already belongs to someone else.

The bartender's yell snaps him out of his trance. He tries to approach the commotion to find out what's going on, leaving his spot and the girl behind. He stands on his toes as he sees one of his classmates being dragged out by the bouncers. Soon after, sirens and the all-too-familiar red and blue lights appear. He learns from others that the man who was just dragged out and is now being arrested was doing drugs in the staff room. Fucking moron. Now he really wants to go.

He goes outside to wait for a cab. But so is everyone else. And, being the gentleman that he is, he allows everyone to hail a cab first. Moments later, the girl who had been by his side earlier approaches him and asks if he wants to share a cab with her because they live close together. He refuses, claiming that he has someone waiting for him. Which is a lie, and in retrospect, a better option than where he is now.

Running.

Waiting for a cab made the time fly quickly, and now he was running late. He really doesn't want to let them down and make them feel unimportant. They were so far away from it. If they had texted him and he was on the other side of the world, he would immediately book a flight to meet them.

He calls them, hoping they'll understand that he'll be late. Unfortunately, he only gets a dial tone. He tries again and comes up short. He considers calling them again, but this may be too clingy of him.

So he keeps running until he sees that familiar building, which strangely makes him smile. In his mind, he laughs at how mundane things have become extraordinary simply because of them.

You are startled awake. Shit, I fell asleep. When you look at the time, it's five to ten. You make your way quickly out of the lounge, shaking your head as you pass the couple passed out by the bean bags. And, to make matters worse, the elevator is being repaired. As a result, you begin your journey by ascending several flights of stairs.

By the time you make it to your floor, you’re completely out of breath.

I probably look fucking insane right now.

You make your way to your room to prepare for a bit before he comes. However, the universe had other plans for you.

Just when you turned towards the hallway where your dorm is, he stood there, almost mirroring your condition. He's heaving, his hair is stuck to his brow, and his hands are on his knees.

You take a few tentative steps forward. He looks up, sees you, and smiles. You do the same and ask as to why he looks tired.

"I- uh, used the stairs because your elevator wasn't working," he says, not making eye contact with you, which usually means he's lying. But you remain silent and hum in agreement.

You nod towards your door, inviting him to enter and follow you.

If I told them I ran from the bar, I’m actually fucked. Whipped son of a bitch.

He follows them in and heads straight for their bed. He believes that this bed is softer than the expensive one he has at home and that it must feel like a cloud.

Like routine, they head to the bathroom to freshen up, and he looks for a shirt of his in their drawer. While waiting, he sets up the movie and orders some food.

They emerge from the bathroom, and he believes it would be fine if he died right now. He doesn't mind if he ends up in hell because he's already seen an angel.

They settle in the bed, with him enclosing them in their arms.

“How was your day?” He asks, trying to beat the awkward silence.

“It was alright. I was busy all night studying.”

“Well, if you don’t mind me asking.. Uh, where did you come from when I saw you in the hallway?”

Their eyes seem to widen a bit as if caught in the act. “Oh, I just gave my friend my notes at the lobby.”

With no energy to pry further, he nods and moves to turn the movie volume up.

As the credits roll, you turn your head to face the body that is enclosing yours. He's fast asleep with his arm around your waist.

You admire him in this way, but you think it's too domestic. But you'd give anything to sleep every night and wake up to this every morning. But you know all too well that by the time the sun rises, like clockwork, he will rise and move so as not to wake you, but you always are.

With eyes closed, you silently beg for him not to go, and just this once, to stay. To hear him say he feels the same way you do and that all your doubts were just you rationalizing.

He is jolted awake by that familiar alarm. He carefully gets out of bed and never forgets the part of his routine of looking at you asleep, a picture that will stay with him all day. He notices the polaroid picture of you two on the night you met as he grabs his shirt from the top of your drawer. As he gazes out the window, he decides to be brave and make an exception today.

He returns beside you, enveloping you in his arms and burying his head in your neck. And, ever so gently, he says,

“Just tell me you love me already. Please, please, please."

I’m the anon who sent u those filthy nanami prompts. I have one for geto: youre one of his devoted followers in his little fake “cult”, and you’ve all made a happy little family from the shambles of pain, you and his two little girls (nanako and mimiko!) and Miguel and Laurue and Manami and whoever else I’m forgetting.

But most of the time, it’s just you and his two girls. And he sees the way you treat them as if they’re your own blood, and the righteous side of him feels guilty for seeing you in any manner that isn’t platonic, but there’s that part of him that goes wild at the thought of corrupting you, his devoted follower, who would not question anything he’d do to you, no matter how depraved it was.

And so every night he visits you and as he ruts against you and empties himself inside you, he imagines a little baby, one with both of your cursed energies, with his technique and your delicate features. He’d teach the child carefully, make sure they didn’t suffer the way he did to learn their cursed technique. Nanako and Mimiko would like having a new playmate around the house, and he can already imagine your expanded family. The desire inside him to build a new world for all of you burns brighter.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

how did you know i literally had this fantasy of geto in mind after reading vol 0 for the first time like...this feels like its been ripped from my brain.

geto has never seen you in that light until the moment he's walking along an orchard, wind rustling and peaches in full bloom. the air is filled with the sounds of laughter, melodic and full of joy. that is when he catches sight of you and his twins lying under a tree. you tell them stories of a princess who is rescued by a prince, she's in a castle living happily ever after with the one she loves and he thinks how naive of you to believe that such stories exist; that there were 'princes' who stroll in on white horses, doing good deeds and saving the world, when in reality, humanity is so flawed and every non-curse user is an example of that. but the more he lingers on it, the more he wants to tear those walls down, show you what true love really feels like,—an all-consuming hunger, breathing you in and feasting on your soul whole—and fill your mind with ideas of a world he's building, solely for you and his girls.

to be in love isn't the priority, to be obsessed is a whole other thing and he doesn't really know the difference when he's already picturing you growing with his child. a belly full and swollen as you lay in a nest of sheets and soft things—silk fabrics draped over you, pillows tucked in under your sore spots, resting against the particularly sensitive and heavy swole of your breasts and relieving the ache in your nipples, extravagant furs keeping you away from the cold, from the stench of non-sorcerers, the tangy pulp of citrus fruit, and the sweet glaze of honey, morsels of every kind at your fingertips—there's a glow about you that lines the surface, the very edge of your silhouette. naked skin basking in warm light, you'll sleep and you'll be worshipped like this, his followers gathering at your feet to praise you and the unborn child that grows inside you, a new gift to the world as he kills, eradicates more and more of the unwanted and lays their head on an altar in a show of his loyalties tied only to you, the little thing he's found, who still believes in the folktales and the songs they sing, now a woman he's claimed for his own because that’s what love is.

once so pure and lighthearted, he is now no longer a prince, but a rotten, tainted man. menacing and shameful for wanting it so much, craving to feel you give into his touch, to see the adoration, desperation, in your eyes when he finally takes you. looking up at him like he's a god among men, what he does to you, you can't even begin to fathom the pleasure of it all, that you would never say no to him, your master.

you admire him from afar for the longest time whilst knowing and reluctantly accepting that this is as much a life with him as you will receive when you know he's got a purpose to fulfill. what would he even want with you who’s so unlike him, weak and without knowledge of anything beyond the four walls of the home he's given to you, his twins, and the makeshift family he's brought together. you haven't heard of him ever having a lover of sorts, especially not a wife. you don't think he's the type but as you watch his interactions with other women, you start to think that you wouldn't be a prospect if he were anyway, that you don't hold a candle to the other stronger, smarter, confident women. where he's giving them smiles and courteous nods, he looks to you instead with a spine-tingling gaze in his dark eyes. a sinister smile, his teeth peeking underneath like a wicked invitation—observing you with an underlying fixation.

the first time it happens he sneaks into your room with the intention to tell you how he feels, he's got a restless feeling in his chest and it has nothing to do with the countless amounts of curses he swallows and stores. he sees your sleeping figure draped in moonlight washing over you and your features, so unassuming and graceful, peacefully sleeping and laid out for him like an offering, a feast he's about to sink his teeth into. so depraved his mouth salivates and he can't stop himself. kneeling over you, his towering figure looms like a shadow as his eyes take in every inch, his fingers move under the comforter, never pulling it away in fear that you would wake from the cooling air before he traces them over the supple skin of your thighs, loving the soft touch of it.

in a swift move, he's dipping his head under the covers, wanting to get his lips on it, hands clamping around your thighs like a vice, pressing his fingers into your flesh, already losing himself in the smell of your skin, the heat radiating from you. his lips graze in a light stroke over your stomach as you start to stir from your sleep, opening an eye just in time to see, to feel his tongue licking a stripe up your slit.

letting out a gasp, your head falls back to hit the pillows, you try to push him away, hands coming up to his shoulder, your feet kicking, not fully aware of what was happening but he's unyielding. keeping your legs spread for him, you want to hide it from his view, that he shouldn't be looking at the most private parts of you, this was a man who you'd care for, he was a leader, the most powerful person in a room, it wasn't right.

with a whisper, his dark voice soothes you, "shh...stay still." he's inching his tongue deeper past your folds, tasting you for the first time and groaning when he feels your grip tighten in his hair. you start to whimper when his mouth feels so hot, his tongue so plush and wet. his lips suck your clit in, nibbling on it while his tongue flicks, nose swiping up and down your sopping cunt, rubbing until you start to shake and tremble.

you're giving into him, slowly succumbing to bliss, how good it feels when he's licking faster, you're smothering his face in between your thighs, clamping on both the sides of his head, your feet in the air and toes curling from the sensation. you're squirming from the vibrations when he's humming in between your tight crevice. “you taste like heaven.”

it builds and builds, that coiling in your stomach, when he's bringing a finger up in between your asscheeks, circling that tight hole, your flowing juice helping him ease his way in deeper, it feels so dirty, so vulgar—wrong, and yet, your heart beats so quickly in your chest, ears going hot, sweat perspiring over your skin over something that feels so good. so much so your eyes roll back instinctively and you don’t know if you’re prepared for it.

for a tingle that shoots up your spine, sparks flashing behind your eyelids, drowning him in your slick, and when your orgasm crashes in you're biting down on your lip hard to stop your moans from being heard, breaking the skin, blood pooling under your teeth. still, he doesn't stop, you're gripping his hair, feeling oversensitive and overwhelmed, it's too much. every drop he's lapping up, not wanting to waste the sweet nectar that drools from you.

when your orgasm recedes, you catch your breath, looking up to the ceiling for an answer to what just happened. he comes into view when he leans over you, his eyes trailing down your body with greed, his hair is a mess from where your hands have clutched, lips and chin glistening with so much of your need you start to feel embarrassed by it all. one moment you were dreaming of him as an honoured man with his kind words and paternal ways and the next moment he's making you cum and writhe against his tongue. you wish to tell him that you didn't mean to be so impure or that you actually...really liked it. longed for it but never had the words to say. a lump in your throat gets caught, your eyes start to water, you think he's going to be upset, be disappointed that his loyal follower was overcome by her most basic of urges. reality hits you square in the face when his voice breaks through the silence, loud and clear. "we're not done." he growls.

as he undoes his robe, you're so tempted to run your hands over his trim muscles, only ever having a peek at them when he returned from missions with an injury or once when you accompanied him to teach the twins how to swim by a lake. the fabric sweeps over his shoulders to reveal a body so solid, made from years of fighting, training, and just age—the scars lining the ridges of his obliques, the veins from his famous healing hands now running up his forearms like rivers, the broad expanse of his chest so large your hand would barely cover one of his pecs—now looking completely and utterly debauched and wanting more, all from seeing you come apart with just his tongue. you did that to him.

you muster up the courage to reach out to him, releasing that knot across his middle and watching the last of his coverings fall away, undressing him completely. now bare before you, on the edge of the bed, he’s hard, thick, jutting straight up with a dollop of precum beading at the tip. your eyes going wide as you took in his impressive size. you always thought that it would be this gnarled and monstrous thing but looking at it now, it was...perfect. smooth and firm, with a vein running up the side. his hand reached down and gripped his throbbing cock, stroking the length of it, thumb rubbing over the head. you could see the pure unadulterated lust in his eyes as he stared at you with this kind of primal hunger, waiting for your next move.

leaning back on your elbows, you see his breath hitch as he could only stare when your smooth, glistening lips came into his view. puffy and desperate for him. "t-take me." you whispered, watching as he shuddered at your admission. "take what belongs to you."

and with a growl, he pulls you in with not much resistance on your end, a delicate thing compared to his large stature. like a rag doll, he lifts your hips in his grip before plunging his pulsing cock into your depths, feeling your heat wrap around his swollen cockhead as he sank deeper, warm, hot, raw and so tight were your walls sliding down the length of his shaft. you're stunned at the sheer size of him, stretching you wide and he's not even halfway in. what you had thought would be something quick, fast, him taking what he wanted from you, getting a taste of the most intimate parts of you, and then leaving, was quickly devolving into something far more. something this man was bringing out in you.

his weight pinned you into the soft duvet of the bed, your hard nipples scraping across his chest as his hips slowly rose and fell, languidly pushing and pulling, relishing in that fullness and letting it sweep through you again and again.

"that’s it, you feel that?" his hoarse voice echoed in your ear. "feel my love for you." instinctively your arms wrapped around his back, nails digging into his shoulder blades, nearly drawing blood. knowing that if he kept this up, he would have to do a lot more to heal the impressions dug into his skin.

the moment your legs slid around his waist, hooking your ankles together behind his lower back and heels digging into him with every stroke, you could start to hear voices gathering outside. that they were whispering amongst one another, wondering what could possibly be the reason you were moaning and mewling like a whore, but right then, neither one of you had cared who heard. you wouldn’t have wanted him to stop and a few nosy passersby is hardly a reason for him to stop fucking you into oblivion.

"m-master!" you screamed in surprise when you feel his cockhead bumping on the opening of your cervix. loving the feel of your soaked walls, inch by inch he dragged his cock back as his shaft grated across your sensitive clit before he’s bruising his way in again, hitting that spot that makes you see stars. "w-what is that?" you groaned.

“right here?" he rumbled, punctuating his words with next thrust, “that’s where i’ll make you a mommy." your eyes flared in response, mind going numb, wanting it so much it aches, turning more and more into his plaything, now fully submitting to him. the heavy scent of sex filled the air, he’s defiled you to the point of no return. in your fucked-out, mindless state you picture his seed filling you up, rooting in your core and it turning into something beautiful, a child with unlimited power and gifts, his child, it ignites that blazing knot in you again.

"i-i love it so much" you whined, voice curling into a high-pitched wail. "please keep doing that...it feels so good." you told him, urging him on as he starts pounding into you rigorously. his hips pistoning as he drove deeper into your trembling body, already feeling the boiling in his balls every time they slapped against your ass.

his hips drove hard down, lodging himself there, the tip lingering at the opening of your fertile womb, you could feel his balls beginning to release when your tight walls are squeezing down on him. "i-i’m gonna cum." you stutter over your words.

“do it, for me.” he demands, a hand coming up to your throat and curling around it, fingers pressing into your jugular, constricting your airways, going breathless. you opened your mouth in a silent scream as drool seeped from one corner, your head thrashing against your pillow. tears springing forth as his final thrust sent off an explosion. your nails raking down his back as your body writhed under him, eyes rolling back in your head, juices leaking all over your thighs as you gushed around him.

you felt his hot seed erupt inside you, painting your walls. the pulsing heat in your belly setting off the second wave of raw pleasure, him smirking down at you experiencing your first multiple orgasm. shaking and trembling violently, you stare up at him, his face a mask of sheer animalistic instinct, ravaging and satisfied that there was no going back.

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some added thoughts here:

this isn't a concubine situation like geto isn't just fucking every woman who lives with him because these followers of his he respects and cares for, but you being the one who's taken care of his twins, saw through his evil-stricken ways, and forgives him for it, so devoted, loyal, who had claimed his heart long before he did yours just by being a kindness, a weakness in his gloomy, formidable nature. he wants you. so wrapped up in his ideals of this perfect child there is no way he isn't fucking you every night until you're pregnant. even after then, he's still pouring himself into your swollen belly because he can.

just so much breeding...you get addicted to it, to the way it pools inside you, hot and lewd, branding you as his. "breed me daddy, give me your baby." you whimper as your eyes go cloudy, staring up at him and pleading for it.

he groans at the sight of you like this, falling in love with him a little more, "look at you...how you're begging for it. nothing but a little cumwhore." with a grunt, he feels the last of his balls empty into your tight hole, his cock throbbing along your walls as your head falls back, feeling another thick rope flooding you, so much cum pumping inside it oozes out around him and down the crack of your ass, making a puddle on the duvet under you.

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you feeding off his contagious pride and ego, then turning into a little threatening, venomous thing yourself. glowing and feeling so proud that hes chosen you. that geto suguru has you alone in his arms, growling into your neck and kissing your lips like he wants to take your breath away, eating up your moans as you squeeze down on his entire length, reveling in the knowledge that it's all yours.

you give her a lecherous stare, a woman who has caught you and him in the middle of the act through a sliver of an opening by the fusuma. she could not believe the scene before her. their master, naked and defenseless, his back faced towards her, only getting a glimpse of his clenching muscles, the strangled noises escaping him with each rise and fall of hip hips, how he's holding you up like you weigh nothing. there's a line of your juices flowing, droplets falling to the mat below you, hitting the floor with loud plops.

it was easy to tell who held the reins here. despite your positions, the predatory look on your face said otherwise, the fact that it was their master, who was a force of nature, who had never lost a fight, now wholly submitting to you in full view. you raise your voice a little higher, eyeing her as he pumps his cock deeper, faster. wanting her to hear it, see it for herself.

you give her a cruel smirk. once naive, you now do nothing now to feign innocence, pretending that you don't know exactly what you're doing. taunting, luring her in and she can't look away from you. with a sharp glare, curling a hand possessively around his neck, your face clearly reads: 'he's mine.'

leaning in to kiss him, you feel him smile in lieu of saying what he knows. that a sorcerer like him would have felt her presence from a mile away, how you're playing this game with him. he loves it, isn't bothered by your jealousy when it's what makes you reach down to rub his cum over your clit before having it cream over your fingers, bringing it to your lips and sucking them off, licking them clean.

Oh, What A View

Summary: After the war is over, you are left to tend for the poor soldiers whose minds got broken in the process. One specific man catches your attention.

Warnings: unprotected, vaginal sex, creampie, cum leaking, oral sex (m! receiving), titty fucking, cum play, accidental voyeurism. | a/n: Hobo!Eren and Nurse! Reader concepts are originally aleks' (@princess-jaeger) <3

Wattpad! | Ao3! | Hobo! Eren Yeager x Nurse! Reader

“They did it!” The news broke loose not long after the event actually happened. All the newspapers, radio stations, and gossipers were talking about it, the end of the four-year-long war between Marley and the Mid-East forces had finally come to an end when a peace treaty was signed after the military destroyed their fleet.

Information traveled so fast that you were barely able to tell what was true and what wasn’t. The only concrete information you had was that Marley’s win was a real achievement and hundreds of mentally and physically scarred soldiers were on their way to your care.

It would take them a few days to get back from Fort Slava and, in the meantime, you find yourself preparing extra beds and blankets to care for those in need.

When the time goes by and the soldiers finally arrive, you watch closely as one of the warrior candidates assists a man who has been scared by the guard leading them towards the hospital, “ugh, typical,” you think to yourself, annoyed by the way those poor people are being treated. Not that there is anything you can do about it.

A week passes and, during those seven days, not a lot happens amidst the broken soldiers. It is a day like any other, medicine rounds begin going around and, with each passing patient, you mark an x next to their name. With the assistance of the other nurses, you get around pretty quickly.

“Has bed five B gotten her medication yet?” You ask one of the other nurses as you flip over the pages on your clipboard, not fully paying attention to what it is that they are currently talking about. If it didn’t involve the patients in your care, you wouldn’t give it a second thought.

“Yeah,” the short-haired nurse responds, dipping two of her fingers into the bag of chips. She brings the wavy food into her mouth before rubbing her fingers together, getting rid of the dust. It is more than clear to you that she doesn’t take her job very seriously, “The only one left is bed fourteen A.”

“Mr. Kruger?” You inquire, bringing the board close to your chest. The other woman shrugs, licking the orange powder off of her fingertips.

“He’s only willing to cooperate when you are the one doing his care,” she says and you can’t help but look away, a deep blush taking over your cheeks as you now stare at the ground. You had indeed been exchanging a few glances here and there with the man, but you wouldn’t think he would go as far as to refuse treatment from anyone but yourself.

Clearing your throat, you nod. With one hand, you bring the clipboard down towards your thigh, and with the other, you reach for a small cup containing a couple of pain pills, one antipsychotic and one antidepressant. It’s a decent cocktail, enough to cause a grown adult to relax.

The sound of your heels colliding with the floor fills the nearly empty hallway, the only exceptions being a few soldiers who sit in their designated wheelchairs, one of them with a book in hand as he reads the words on the page carefully and the other one slamming his head against the wall.

Your hand trembles, a nervous sweat dripping down the side of your head as you touch the handle on the door. The patient himself has never been anything but a gentleman but it is the people around him that worry you, after all, no more than a week has gone by since the military dumped the broken soldiers into the hospital.

With a deep breath, you enter the room without knocking. A small tv plays the same program it did the day before and the men and women sit around it like flies attracted to the light. A couple of them sit on a broken table, marked cards in their hands as they play a game similar to poker, though you can’t decipher what it is.

One woman, in particular, draws the same symbol over and over again with barely usable markers, mumbling words that feel like an incantation based on the number of times she has told you she is a witch. She is harmless overall, though can still be quite difficult when it comes the time to take her medicine.

With one glance around the room, you come to the conclusion that the patient you are searching for is nowhere to be seen inside the small room and it means that he could either be sitting on the bench outside or simply lying in bed in his room.

Making sure not to touch anyone, you make your way towards the massive window, eyes searching for the long-haired man in question. Once you realize that you can’t find him, you decide that it is time to look in the very last place and, if he wasn’t there, you would have to call the guards.

So you rush up the stairs towards the last room on the third floor, where all the physically disabled patients were being kept. It seemed like extremely poor management, considering that most of them weren’t able to walk down the stairs, but it is not like the Marleyan government cared about these men too much.

From underneath the door, you see a shadow hopping around on crutches and it could only mean that he is awake. Unlike the other nurses, you like to knock on the door, making sure that they understand how valuable their privacy is to you. 

Inside the room, a low, husky voice speaks as the shadow is now facing towards the wooden surface, “Come on in.” Your heart skips a beat for a second, the tone of his voice is deep and you can feel a dreamy sigh exhaling from your body as you twist the doorknob.

“Mr. Kruger?” You inquire, peaking your head inside the room, the hand that holds the medicine cup also bringing the clipboard closer to your body. His emerald green eye pierces right through you and a warmth grows on your face, even if there is absolutely no light to them, “I’m passing around medication.”

“Ah, I see,” the man exhales a response, extending the hand that does not hold the crutch forward to take it out of your hands. You wish you could offer him some juice or even water to drink the medication with but such luxuries were forbidden. It doesn’t seem to bother him in the slightest, however. 

He takes a deep breath before swinging his head and the cup backward. You can see the movement of his neck as he swallows the pills with amusing ease. Once he is done, his tongue brushes through chapped lips, moisturizing the area as best as he possibly can.

“Thank you, ma’am,” he says in that exact same low voice, not shifting it in the slightest. You can feel as his eyes go through your body, taking in the full image of your silhouette and you can’t help but tug at the edge of your skirt, pulling it down in hopes of calming yourself down.

He begins to take a few steps closer and you feel as your legs gain a life of their own, backing your body against the door as you use your free hand to search for the handle, desperately looking for an out. Before you have time to fully take in what is happening, the man is standing before you, his hand touching the wood a little off to the side as he traps you in the space between the door and his body.

The man doesn’t say anything, he simply stands there. His breath is warm and there is a familiar scent to it though you can’t fully identify what it is. One of his eyes is bandaged up and you bring your hand to his face, your thumb brushing against the cloth gently so as not to hurt him.

“Does it hurt?” You ask, cursing yourself for saying it out loud and he shrugs.

“I have gotten used to it at this point,” is all he replies with. He eventually lets go of the crutch, now using your body to balance himself up. His grip on your waist is tight as his fingernails dig through your skin through the cloth of your clothes, but you don’t complain. In fact, it feels good to have him touch you.

You can’t help but exhale loudly, dropping the clipboard in your hand to the ground. When it collides with the surface, it makes a loud sound and immediately the man brings his index finger over your lips, telling you to shush, even if he knows that nobody would care about it, not the nurses and not the broken soldiers.

His lips ghost above yours, so close that you can already taste them, though he doesn’t give in so easily, he wants you to speak, he likes to hear your voice, “Tell me something you have never told anyone,” he requests.

It takes you a second to think and, in that time, he has lifted the edge of your dress, fingers brushing through the silk of your underwear as he carefully watches as the fabric makes its way past your thighs. He doesn’t stop until he can see your belly button, that’s when he shifts his focus to opening the front of your uniform.

You can’t find any words seeing as your brain betrays you, all of your thoughts are targeted at the man’s touch. His vision is focused on you and, without breaking eye contact, his mouth closes on your right nipple. Eren sucks on the hardened bud while your eyes are closed shut in pleasure. 

He lets go of the nipple with a pop, then proceeds to bite down, blow a bit of cool air, and watch it as it becomes erect, then goes back to sucking on the bug. Licking, biting, sucking. It goes on. You couldn’t help the erotic sounds that come from deep within your throat.

Lust exploded from a place inside his chest and he couldn’t help but let it take over his actions. You cradle his head against yours; keeping him in place. Letting go of your nipple, he moves on to your left breast to give it the same attention. 

Though before he resumes the activity, he asks you the question again, a firmer tone this time and a threat of stopping if you didn’t respond quickly. You scramble to find something inside of your nearly empty mind but finally, something comes up.

“I have a collection of sex toys,” you whisper underneath your breath, afraid that anyone but him would hear your confession. He smiles, bringing his lips around your nipple once more before giving it the attention you so desperately craved. With every flick of his tongue, you could feel the wetness as it pooled in your underwear. “Now will you tell me your first name?”

You puff out your chest, giving him better access to your previously hidden breast. Your arms are pressed against the wall, hands balled into fists as you try and turn your head away from the scene in embarrassment. 

The man pulls your body towards him but before you have a chance to collapse against his chest, he is pressing you against the window, your cheeks against the glass as he pulls your underwear to the side, wanting to make this nothing more than a quickie, “Eren, Eren Kruger.”

You feel the head of his cock bumping between your legs, seeking for the entrance to your aching core. Closely after, it began to push slowly into you. The sensation as he filled your cunt wasn't one you had felt in a while, not even on those private, lonely occasions when you’d lay in bed, thinking about him and the encounters you have shared in the past.

You brace yourself against the window as the man buries his length all the way inside of you. Your fantasies seemed so pathetic now, the idea that he would be gentle? Nothing more than a distant dream as Mr. Kruger was known, by you specifically, to be quite rough when he is fucking you.

It isn’t his fault, he would say, there is just something about your juicy, puffy pussy that would make all of his senses go out of the window and he would only be able to think with the head of his cock.

Your breath caught in your throat. The pleasure was gathering inside of you. Every thrust drove you further toward ecstasy. You mouthed something incoherent at the streetlights on the wide road below. His hands on your hip pulled and pushed you as he slammed his cock into you, again and again, fucking you careless of your comfort, like you were just a thing, a doll.

Your breasts are pressed against the window, hands gripping at the curtains as tightly as you can while supporting both of your bodies, he holds you up by wrapping his arms underneath your knees and his cock never leaves the warmth of your cunt, not even for a second.

“People might see us,” you say, drool pooling on the corner of your lips. Wetness drips down your pussy, coating not only his member but the back of your thighs. He is rough, rougher than usual but at every step, no matter how tough his words are, he makes sure that you are ok.

“Then let them see,” he hisses, pumping his hips forward while lowering your body on his cock, allowing more of his length to enter your aching cunt and you gasp, eyes rolling to the back of your head in pleasure, “Let them see what a slut you are.”

“Mr. Kruger,” you moan his name quietly, trying to attract as little attention to you as possible, “It feels so good.” Your underwear is still pulled to the side but the fabric now comes in contact with your throbbing clit, rubbing the area ever so gently with his every thrust. A heartbeat passes and you correct yourself, “Eren.”

“I know what you like,” he says and you can tell he has a shit-eating grin on his face just by the way his voice sounded. You open your eyes to make sure nobody is watching the two of you, gripping the curtains hard in the process before allowing your head to fall backward.

A part of you secretly wishes that somebody would walk in, that somebody would catch the two of you in the most embarrassing of situations and you would have to acknowledge that you were having filthy sex with one of your patients, but you would rather live in denial.

He shifts ever so gently and finally hits the spot he was so desperately searching for, you have to bite down on your lip not to let out a loud gasp. You clench your butthole tightly, squeezing your muscles around him and he giggles, an amused laugh as he continues to pound into you, “Here, huh?” He teases.

You want to respond with an insult, something to wipe that smug smirk off of his lips but your vocal cords and your brain betray you at that moment and all you can think about is how delicious it feels to be fucked by him. 

The man proceeds to place the tip of your toes onto the window’s sill, spreading your folds apart and giving the passing people on the outside of the facility a perfect view of your stuffed pussy. It’s embarrassing and you can’t help but blush, but not a single part of you wishes to stop.

The man’s long hair sticks to the side of his neck, sweat exhaling from his pores with every thrust of his unstable hips, his mustache is coated in a layer of fluids and he readjusts for a second, pressing your body even further up against the window, your nipples becoming hard as they come in contact with the cold glass.

He brings his lips towards your neck, his tongue generously going through every inch of skin available, the bun on your hair, once elegant and now messy, threatens to fall and if it wasn’t for the lack of one of his legs, Eren would have already used his hand to take it down.

Your nails are rough and so is he, gravity leaving you bouncing on his cock harder and deeper than usual. Suddenly you don’t care that people outside might see you, you don’t care about anything but the angling of your lover’s hips and his ragged breaths against your neck.

“Keep moving just like that, baby,” he whispers against your skin and you take his words as an incentive to continue moving yourself on his cock.

You wrap an arm around his shoulder as you feel yourself unraveling and you moan into the glass. You are still trembling when he lowers you down, gripping one hand to your waist. Even though his pace now is faster than before, a hard thrust that shoves you forward into the window, and bracing your hand against the glass, you beg him for more. You need him now, need him closer than it is possible for two people to be.

“You’re going to make me come, Eren,” you say and he presses your body further against the window with a thudding sound, while the ripping of your underwear can also be heard. The cloth simply falls to the ground.

“Then come for me baby,” when finally you feel yourself tightening around his cock, a wave of an intense orgasm washing over you, you rock your hips against him, Eren moaning with you at the feel of your quivering muscles. You want people to see you now, to see them gasping in jealousy.

He witches, holding you perfectly in place for a few seconds, and his warm cum begins to flow inside of you, filling your body with sensations you could never grow too used to. So much comes out that eventually, you felt as the warmth began to squirt onto the glass and down your thighs.

Not a word leaves his lips so you are the first one to break the silence, “You made a mess, Mr. Kruger. Would you like me to clean it up?” A devious smile curls into his lips, though you cannot see it for he is hiding his face on the back of your neck, but you can feel as the corners twitch in excitement.

Slowly and carefully, he raises your body one more time, pulling his cock out from its newly found home inside of you. Your toes touch the ground, finding footing enough for the rest of your feet. It’s a slow process but, soon enough, you find yourself kneeling before him.

You raise his shirt and begin to kiss his stomach, starting just above the belly button. His body collides with the window, one hand searching for balance as he holds onto the ledge while the other is tangled around the back of your head, playing with your hair in a desperate attempt to show you what he has in mind. You cooperate slowly, letting him guide you down. It takes less than a minute before your mouth gets to the happy trail above his pubes.

His cock is right there, inches from your face. You hesitate for a second, wondering if a blowjob would be the best way to reward him. You decide on something better but, to prepare him for it, you run your tongue along the shaft, getting it wet with your saliva and you can taste the mixture of your juices and his, it’s still warm and quite salty.

It’s difficult and messy to navigate with just your mouth, but you do the best you can. Starting with kitten licks along his slit. The taste of his cum floods your tongue making you salivate.

You meet his eyes to find him still smiling, the corner of his mouth pulling up more into a smirk. He knows what he is doing to you. So you continue your motions down his shaft. Licking lightly along veins, drool escaping as you do. 

Clearly, this was the wrong choice, everything about this situation seemed wrong. As soon as you are halfway down, he begins to set the pace and it is relentless. Using you a hole more than a person.

You remove him from your mouth and move your hands towards your chest, unbuttoning the uniform you wear. Your hard nipples tingle in the cool air. You move up again, breasts large enough to cover his entire cock. He looked down at you in shock, but the devious smirk on his lips never ceased.

"I want you to cum between my tits,” you announce to him, knowing that is exactly the kind of stuff he wants to hear you say.

He simply moans as he thrust up against you. You respond by moaning as well, your breasts have always been sensitive, and react to his hips being pushed against them quite well. His hands come down, joining yours in squeezing your breasts around his cock. "Oh, shit." He hisses, his thrusting speeding up as he finds a rhythm, "You feel amazing."

You smile up at him. He doesn’t look like he'd last much longer, "That's it, baby, fuck my tits. Cum all over them."

"Uh... ohh fuck..." that is all he manages to say as a warning, his fingers begin digging onto the soft skin of your breasts, and his cock starts pulsing in its place between your boobs. You can feel wetness spreading, most of it being squeezed out and forming in a pool on your cleavage.

You continue to rub the shaft, looking at the mess he made. You can’t control yourself and your mind slowly slips away, rubbing his warm cum all over. There was enough to cover your breasts in his cum and have left over on your fingers. "There is so much, baby, and you just came not too long ago.”

“You’re just so fucking hot,” he pants, removing his hand from your breast to bring his cum coated fingers towards your lips. He pushes through gently, silently asking for permission before you open wide to receive him.

Your tongue swirls around his digits, fully taking in the flavors he is offering you. The viscous liquid drips against your taste buds and you continue to do so until his fingers are removed from your mouth completely clear, the only thing still coating them is a thick layer of your saliva.

As he places his cock back into his pants, Eren shakes his head, removing the hair from his eye. You are still on your knees, searching in your pockets for something that could be used as a tissue to clean the cum off of your bare chest.

“No,” Eren says, his voice is firm and it echoes through the almost completely empty room. You pause your movements for a second, wondering what he is talking about before he continues, “I want you to have my cum on your chest until you go home. A little reminder of me.”

“But, Mr. Kruger,” you try to reason with him, watching as he extends you a hand in the hopes of assisting you as you get up, “People will know.”

“After the little show we just gave them,” he smirks, buttoning up the top and covering your cum soaked cleavage, “I doubt many people don’t know about it already.”

You can’t help but blush in embarrassment, flustered cheeks facing away from him as you try to hide your emotions from him. You didn’t know what came over you, a public display such as the one you just experienced, and with an eldian no less, oh what the marleyan government would do to you if they figured it out.

A thousand thoughts go through your head in the span of a minute or so. Unconsciously, you begin to gather around your clipboard and the papers that fell out of it while you were busy being kissed by the man, and, before you have time to realize it, he has already walked out of the door and is on his way out of the courtyard.

You wipe away the steam off the window to find him sitting on the bench, he props his body up on the crutches as he speaks with one of the clinically insane patients. It takes a second for you to realize it is one of your patients, so you begin to make your way down the stairs, carefully enough not to fall but moving your feet at an incredibly quick pace.

Once you are finally there, you speak to him again, “I’m sorry, I looked away for two seconds,” you say, though your voice trembles with the thoughts of how the two of you were linked together mere moments ago. He shrugs, no light in his eyes.

“I don’t care,” he says, pretending not to know you. You knew how little you meant to him but still, to hear not a shred of empathy in his voice was enough to cause your heart to break. So you simply sigh, putting on a fake smile.

As you walk away, arm wrapped around your patient, you feel a cold breeze down against your free pubes and you finally realize that nothing is protecting your cunt, “Where are my panties?” You ask yourself silently, looking back at the man with a desperate look on your face, only to realize he has the cloth attached to his nostril, taking in a deep whiff out of it before placing it into his pocket, a smile on his face. That man was truly a devil.

i know we as a collective society believe in gamer! eren supremacy. and yes, this is a good take. however, may i introduce to you: normie/fuckboy/jock eren with gamer/nerd gf. thoughts under the cut (safe for work, pg-13, also slight snk spoilers for season 3 and up!)

Keep reading

Heard in Mondstadt (#40)

Fischl: Thy mother is so obtuse, she postulates that Barbatos is a hilichurl!

Bennett: Joke’s on you, I don’t have a mom!

Fischl: Fine! Thy father is so—

Bennett: Which one??

Fischl: Why art thou immune to all my parental witticisms!?!