#UNIVERSAL SERIAL //BUS// ??????!?! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

emepe · 9 days

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— Pairing: Eren x Reader, friends to lovers

— General info: series, 18+, modern AU, serial killer AU, smut, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort

— Summary: Fate is a tricky thing. Certain situations can’t be avoided as much as certain people’s lives can’t be kept from intertwining. With a serial killer on the loose, and unexpected relationships blooming, how will the universe intervene?

— Chapter summary: The first 48 hours are crucial when a person goes missing. Eren can only pray it’s enough to reach you..

— Content warnings: emetophobia, mention of assault.

— Notes: Helloooo!!! Welcome to TV Friday number 12 <3 I thought about posting earlier but I thought best to keep up our little tradition ^^ Please read the notes at the end for extra notes about TV’s future. Don’t be shy to stop by my ask box <3 If anyone else would like to be added to the tag list, lmk. Happy reading!

Links: Read on AO3 | Chapter guide | Masterlist

Forty-eight hours

Hour One

A missed call shouldn't have been enough to raise an alarm, but his gut instantly told him something was wrong. And yet he tried his best to remain calm — stepped out onto the street and made his way to the bus stop where you should've been dropped off, glancing into convenience stores just in case, hopeful that the bus was just running a little late. But when the bus you would've taken showed up — allowing Eren some time to sigh in relief and shake his head at his own presumptions — and you were nowhere to be found among the few people to scatter onto the sidewalk, it only confirmed that previous gut feeling.

Hour Two

Inhale. Hold. Exhale.

There's a stiffness to Eren's breathing that makes the process more painful than its intended effects — his lungs feel too big for his ribs, which seem to be pressing them against his heart, pushing his brain into hyperactivity to keep him from imploding.

Where does he even start? Where should he even go?

If there's a proper protocol to follow to find you, he's no idea of it and he's strangely aware that his anxiety might lead him in the wrong direction when there's so much he has to do — so many places he has to be — at once. It's infuriatingly difficult to not have a cool head when you really need it.

He didn't think to bring his car — perhaps it's for the best, considering his vision continues to blur and it's not a sign of good condition to hear your own frantic heartbeat pounding in your ears.

His eyes anxiously scan the faces of every person in his path. Paired with his dazed footing and the sick expression on his face revived every couple of minutes from the nausea stemming from some sort of sensed doom that he continuously swats away, there hasn't been a shortage of odd looks and aversions since he ventured into the dark streets in hopes to find you fine and well out of thin air.

It's been too long to dismiss as a casualty since his calls stopped going through, and yet he insists on redialing your number each time he's met with the automated message that only further fuels his dreadful symptoms, hopeful that your voice will reach his ears again, for that comforting sound to put an end to the infernal crescendo of his insides.

Just as he's about to redial once more, his phone starts buzzing first, and for a split second his body is at peace and his heart soothed in the spare moment that it takes for him to accept the call and bring the phone to his ear.

“Have you heard from her yet?”

The voice on the other end causes his stomach to plummet to his feet for what feels like the tenth time tonight.

It takes a moment for his brain to assimilate that it's not you on the other end and another for him to hate himself for not checking who was calling and stupidly spit a response to an Armin who has no fault in anything, especially for not being you.

Armin, as understanding as ever and assuming the more collected role for Eren's sake, dismisses the frustrated tone in his friend's voice, fully aware it's nothing personal.

“The security guard says she left a little over an hour ago and Mika called me a minute ago and said she hasn't been home. Are you sure she wasn't going to make any stops on the way?”

“No, Armin, she would've told me. She would've come here first or she would've at least texted me.” Eren's voice cracks. “Something is wrong.”

The weakness in Eren's voice is enough to fracture Armin's composure for a fraction of a second.

“Let's go to Levi.”

Hour Three

Being in the police station feels more reassuring than Eren would've imagined. At least this means he's doing something — and something right, at that — and the drive over spared him enough time to ease his nerves, even just a little, as he continued to repeat inwardly to himself that everything is going to be fine.

Time is everything and frankly, he can't help but feel a bit dumb for not thinking about getting some help from Levi in the first place. He'll find out what's going on — if there was an accident, if you got mugged and that's why no calls go through, or even if your bus broke down and that's why he hasn't seen you when he should have by now. Even if it turns out to be a misunderstanding, better to cause a scene than to sit on his hands. Though three hours without any sign to say otherwise can't be a misunderstanding.

Eren hunches over, resting his forehead on the edge of Levi's desk, not minding one bit as it digs a dent into his skin. His knee bounces every couple of minutes as he and Armin wait for Levi to get back to them.

“Eren Jaeger?”

He looks up to find a tall blond man instead of Levi.

“Yes?”

“I'm Captain Erwin Smith. Come this way please.”

Eren stands to follow the man's lead, only sparing a nervous glance to Armin, who replies with a comforting one from his seat, only morphing into a more accurate depiction of his worry once Eren turns his back to him.

“Where's Levi?”

Eren's eyes wander the barren space he's been led into. Nothing but a table and a pair of chairs set opposite of each other.

“He'll be here in a moment. I just want to ask you some more questions about the missing person's report you're filing.”

“Of course.”

Doing his best to hold in his exasperation at the ticking clock in his head, he dutifully replies to every question he's already answered for Levi when he first walked into the station — what made him come to the station, his relation to you, your description, what happened before he lost contact with you, amongst other basic things to paint a picture of the situation.

“Was there ever any trouble in your relationship?” Erwin asks.

Eren's brow furrows.

“What do you mean?”

“I'm asking if there was any indication that your girlfriend,” he makes a vague motion with his hands as he reads your name from the folder in his hands, “might’ve been upset with the relationship. Did you ever argue or have any trouble? Perhaps something in the past few days? Or ever?”

Eren hardens his jaw in an attempt to remain calm. He knew he'd have to spend a while at the station, answering questions more than once — as frustrating as the lengthy process could be, he expected that much.

Erwin's tone has remained neutral for the entirety of the questioning, and it's only natural to want to rule out any immediate suspects, but it doesn't make the implication of the captain's words any less offensive and borderline cruel.

“No,” Eren chokes out, horrified by the mere idea that either of you would walk away without warning. That isn't you.

“So no reason for her to break off contact with you.”

“She didn't break off contact,” Eren spits, growing heavily frustrated at the sudden turn of events. “We were supposed to meet, she was on her way already. I saw her just this morning and she called me first to tell me she was coming home.”

“Maybe she only said that to throw you off?”

“What are you trying to say?”

“Just tell me what you might think,” Erwin replies, voice stern. “You say it's only been three hours since you last heard from her but she's a mentally stable, healthy adult. Unless she has any conditions that could put herself or others in danger, chances are she's safe and sound somewhere and this is all a misunderstanding. Was there anything suspicious or weird about her?”

Eren's shake of his head grows more and more frustrated as Erwin does little to conceal his skepticism, which only shapes as a misunderstanding from Eren's increasingly impatient point of view.

“What's suspicious and weird is that she never made it to our date at all and it's been three hours and I haven't gotten a single word from her.”

Eren's expression is one of pleading, yet Erwin's remains neutral and made of marble.

“And it's not like that,” Eren murmurs. “I was going to ask her to live with me tonight. She called me after she left work to tell me she was on her way.” Eren can feel his heartbeat start to pick up as his ribcage begins to close in on his lungs once more as more anxious words continue to spill from his mouth in increasing pace and volume. “She told me she had news and that she loves me. Why would she tell me that if anything was wrong? Why would she say that if she wasn't going to make it to our date?” The crack in his voice comes at the same time as the stinging sensation behind his eyes and the uncomfortable tickle in his nose. “I was making dinner for us. I had this whole thing planned. I wanted to surprise her with all her favorite food and the pictures from the new apartment. I wasn't going to tell her about the pink bathtub because I want it to be a surprise when we move in. She…” He curls against the table, hands gripping his hair in frustration, pulling at the strands to make sure he still feels something because there are just too many sensations overwhelming him as he tries to get through to the man in front of him. “She really wants a pink bathtub.”

Eren doesn't lift his gaze, just remains quiet and unmoving until he catches a flicker of movement in front of him. It's only when he takes the tissue offered by Erwin that he becomes aware of the tears streaming down his face.

Levi nearly had a heart attack when he first caught eye of Eren's and Armin's familiar faces walking into the police station. The frantic green eyes and anxious expressions made it clear something awful had happened and hot flashes of searing dread burned inside his stomach. That is until nobody pronounced his niece's name. After that, the flame of pain withered to ashes of guilt, consuming him from the inside in such a manner that it was hard to face his niece's friends knowing he'd felt relief it wasn't his family who'd been affected tonight.

Levi's known Eren since he was a kid — a bit childish and whiny, but ultimately a decent man with a kind heart. It's been a pleasure watching him grow up and knowing he's remained a good friend to his niece.

Levi's only met you once. It was at Jean and Mikasa's engagement party earlier this year. If Jean and Mikasa were the happiest couple there, you and Eren were a close second. It was easy to know just how much he adored you, and how attached you were to him. Eren was rarely in a dark place, but next to you his smile was blinding.

After finding out Erwin conducted the interrogation to rule out a possible runaway case — and how he did it — he still hadn't ridden himself of enough guilt to apologize for making the situation more stressful, no matter what the rules say.

It's no secret some sudden disappearances hold more danger than others. An abducted child, an older person with dementia, a mentally and emotionally unstable person who's looking to cause harm to others or themselves — they demand a higher sense of urgency than logging the missing person into the system and following up when there's nothing more pressing on the police's plate.

The desperation consuming Eren's features when Levi finally walks into the interrogation room is enough to kick off his own instincts.

It's upon Levi's insistence that patrols are dispatched immediately.

Hour Five

When a loved one's safety is on the line, any efforts from authorities never seem to be enough and yet one remains oddly hopeful that the people with a proper protocol should know how to better handle situations that leave one frantic and lost.

Calls to the nearest hospitals, pings from cellphone towers, two patrols dispatched to the last known location and its surroundings, questions to potential witnesses who have nothing to report or are rather too invested to go back to whatever keeps their attention inside to provide some detailed tips, one patrol leaving because of a nearby break-in and the remaining one left with nothing more to go off of than one grainy clip of CCTV footage that shows your figure walking down the street, and a second clip from a convenience store's outside surveillance camera where you don't show up at all, but the lack of witnesses lead to nothing in between.

Keeping up the search when there's been nothing gained starts proving to be more difficult when obstacles continue to pile on. Aside from the growing boredom of those in police cars from the lack of fresh information to keep them motivated, the heavy clouds that hover over everyone's head threatens for the case to soon be abandoned for the night.

Hour Eight

Levi is hesitant to leave. But with no leads — no CCTV footage, no unknown numbers blinking on Eren's screen, no mother, an estranged father, no sign of a struggle at the last known location, and so much yet so little more — there isn't much he has to do than drive back with the pair of worried men to the station for more questioning in case of foul play, while constantly eyeing his notifications for any incoming messages on an assault victim found in an alley not too far away from where your phone was last still on.

Eren refuses to leave. Despite Levi's efforts to persuade him that going back to the station was necessary, knowing he was so close to where you'd last been was enough for Eren to stand his ground. Getting into Levi's car means going back miles worth of steps. It means straying from what feels so much like the right path already. And as ridiculous and futile as it is with no leads, it means losing his grip on something much more solid.

How easy it would be if a last known location means he can find you just by looking behind a tree or having someone point and say “yes, she's right there”.

So when Levi makes another plea for Eren to come back with him — he doesn't mention what for to not stir any more nerves — and Eren says no while steering himself down the block for what feels like his hundredth recon of the area — just in case you really were behind that tree in the small playground all along, playing a nasty prank on him — Levi chooses to go back to all the nearby twenty-four hour convenience stores one last time before the downpour begins.

Armin gives Levi a grateful nod before lightly jogging to catch up with Eren, who's already turning onto the next street.

“You can go,” Eren calls over his shoulder after catching a glimpse of his friend's blond hair beside him. “I'll keep looking by myself. Besides, it's gonna rain soon. You'll get wet.”

“What about you?” Armin looks down at his friend's bare arms. “You don't even have a jacket.”

Eren looks down at his sides, like he just noticed his lack of a coat. He could've sworn he had one on him when he walked out his apartment. You would've been upset with him otherwise, that small pout forming on your lips while your brows are weighed down with disappointment.

The instant of amusement he feels is quickly consumed by the ache of why he's out on the street with no jacket to begin with.

The food must be cold by now. He'll have to heat it all up once you're back home.

Light raindrops brush against his skin with a small gust of wind.

You're still not behind the tree.

It's nearly half past two in the morning. Any civilians with useful information have been asleep for hours, and any passers-by would've reported anything had they seen it, Armin thinks.

It's chilling to walk down streets so quiet and empty, with the only reminder that this isn't an alternate universe being the sparse cars that drive by. Surely the people inside might find it strange to see the pair walking up and down the streets, turning, looking, flashing their phones to make out shapes in the dark.

The tickle of rain on skin is no longer, but the temperature continues to drop.

Armin takes on one side of the street while Eren tackles the other. He receives a polite nod from the security guard of a small daycare center, who fails to conceal his look of pity. Levi interviewed him around an hour ago, so he has to know what's going on.

Armin averts his gaze, his cheeks burning at the thought of some stranger pitying him and his friend when everything is going to be just fine.

The rain starts up again. Eren isn't around anymore. With one quick scan of the street, Armin spots him rounding the corner to the next street — pace firm but anxious. He's quick to follow.

By the time Armin catches up, the raindrops have grown in size, a reliable sign that this time, it's for real.

“Eren,” Armin calls him carefully.

Eren continues walking, flashing a light behind a dumpster in a narrow alley between a family restaurant and a bookstore.

“Eren,” Armin calls him a bit more firmly to get his attention, but to no avail.

With brows knit more in desperation than concern, Armin quickens his pace and pulls Eren by the shoulder just before he rounds the corner to the next street.

“Eren!”

“What?”

The anger and volume in Eren's voice shrinks Armin in his place for a brief moment.

Embarrassed by his own reaction, Eren exhales an apology. But his face hardens once more when Armin suggests it's time to go home.

Armin steps back, surprised to have caught a swear word from his best friend among the words he spits back in a negative response.

But when Eren turns, ready to resume his search, Armin pulls at him again.

“Eren, stop!” he half-yells, quickly readjusting his volume before speaking again to not cause any disturbances to sleeping strangers.

“You don't want to pick a fight with me Armin, I'm warning you,” Eren's voice grows low, but still reaches Armin with the same anger and menace.

Eren harshly pulls away and continues to storm down the next street, leaving Armin to stumble behind.

The rain is heavy enough now to spot the pavement faster than it takes for each drop to dry.

“We need to go back, we aren't going to find her like this,” Armin calls after him. His hands do little to shield himself from the rain. Thankfully, Armin thought to bring a jacket along but it won't do much for either of them when it's bound to be sopping wet in just a few minutes.

Eren's shirt is already clinging to his skin in large patches down his back, and yet he continues walking with purpose down the street.

Armin's shivering now under his jacket as he looks around to gather his surroundings. This street isn't far from the office. It's poorly lit which, paired with the rain, is best explored in daylight. There's a single street lamp that's meant to illuminate the area at night, but it's been broken for months and either nobody has reported it, or laziness has kept it from being repaired.

“Come on,” Armin insists, lightly jogging now and losing his breath under the cold shower as he tries to keep up with Eren, who still refuses to listen. “We'll come back in the morning! You need to get some rest if you're going to keep looking! I'll come with you, okay? But we need to go!”

Armin suddenly crashes into Eren's chest as the latter abruptly turns around in a sudden fit of pure rage.

“I already told you I'm not fucking leaving!”

Armin stumbles back, teeth chattering, muscles drooping from his wet clothes and vision blurred by the heavy rain.

“You can leave if you want to! That's what the fucking police is doing! Just go already! But I'm staying because I care! I don't give a fuck about the rain, I'm going to find her!”

Eren's words pierce through Armin's chest, and the next moment he's tackling Eren to the ground. It's not so much to stop him from leaving this time, but out of indignation.

Eren falls on his ass with a wet thud, his palms painfully pounding onto the pavement as Armin falls on top of him, grabbing a fistful of his shirt in his hands.

“You think I don't care? Why do you think I'm here, you idiot?” Armin yells in Eren's face. Had the pouring rain not been a factor, he would've been red in the face. But had the rain not been there, Eren also would've easily seen the tears streaming down Armin's face, and that would've taken away from his blue glare.

“She's my best friend! I'm just as worried about her as you are! You can't decide you're the only one affected by this! That only makes you a jerk and you're not!”

Eren is tense all over as he holds Armin's surprisingly threatening glare. His chest heaves as a twinge of guilt surges inside of him at his friend's pointed remarks. The stiff breathing makes its return.

“But we have to go,” Armin's voice softens — it cracks and begs.

And Eren breaks down in sobs. His scraped palms come to his face, aggressively digging the heels against his eyes as if to force his tears back in while his shoulders tremble in cold, grief and guilt.

“You don't understand!” he cries, his shirt still crumpled under Armin's grip. “I fucked up, Armin. This is all my fault!”

Unsure of how to react to this abrupt change in attitude, Armin remains frozen save for his teeth, which continue to chatter under the deafening rain.

“I was supposed to pick her up. I'm never late,” Eren hiccups. “But I didn't come today and now I don't know where she is! It was me, Armin! I did this! This is my fault!”

“Eren,” Armin murmurs gently, eyebrows upturned in sympathy as he finally softens his hold on his friend.

“I can't find her and I don't know if she's hurt or scared or if…,” Eren's words drown in another wave of sore sobs, his lips refusing to let the thought of the worst to escape as a spoken word — to think that someone might have caused you harm and that's what's kept you tonight.

“I need her to be okay,” he whimpers finally, lips trembling as his body begins to react to the harsh cold surrounding him. “Where is she, Armin?”

It takes a while for Armin to gather his thoughts and catch up to the workings of Eren's mind from this hellish night.

He often leaves the office with you, stays behind some evenings when he notices you're close to wrapping up your work and can ride the elevator together. Sometimes even accepts Eren's offer for a ride when he's too tired to deal with the overwhelming setting of public transportation — tired enough to not mind third-wheeling for a short while. If the last place your phone was turned on was before you even had a chance to take a bus, surely he could've done something to prevent this mess too. Why didn't he think to stay behind today, too?

“It's not your fault,” Armin finally says, his voice just barely audible amidst the rain and thunder. He blinks up from the ground to his friend. “And we don't know what happened. We'll try the hospitals again later, we'll keep calling her in the meantime. We have Levi helping us, right?”

Eren blinks back at him, slowly gathering that Armin is trying to encourage him through reassurances, and finally nods in response as he does his best to ignore the tight lump in his throat.

“It's like three in the morning, Eren. I'm not asking you to stop. But we can't keep going like this.” He motions vaguely toward the incessant rain from above and the wet clothes sticking to their skin.

Armin stands, relieving Eren from his weight as he pushes back his hair with one hand and offers the other to his friend whose reluctance casts a shadow over his usually bright features.

Eren trains his gaze on the ground, leaving Armin's helping hand hanging for the while longer it takes for him to convince himself that Armin is right and this doesn't mean he's failing you.

Finally, Eren accepts his friend's hand, who hoists him up just as they both spot Levi's car pulling into the street from the farthest corner.

Armin motions for Eren to follow him toward the car, to which he responds with a weak nod. But just a couple of steps in, something crunches and gets caught under his shoe. Naturally, he looks down, forgetting the deluge falling over him at the moment to frown at the foreign object.

Armin glances over his shoulder, sensing his absence, and turns around fully when he realizes Eren is kneeling on the ground, cautiously picking something from the ground that ultimately dangles from his fingers once it's fully suspended in the air.

Armin retraces his steps, kneeling next to his friend to find his face pallid, and green eyes wide with fear as he stares at the broken chain between his fingers, from which hangs an angel cast in silver with a broken wing.

His features contort in horrified realization. It's almost ridiculous to turn to Eren for confirmation of what he already knows and can already begin to imagine. But when he does, the latter is already hunched over in the opposite direction, emptying his stomach onto the wet pavement while the nearing lights from Levi's car come to blind him.

Hour Fifteen

Mikasa, Jean, and Sasha step into the elevator wordlessly, the only sounds on the way to Eren's floor being the inevitable rustles from the plastic bags with food in Mikasa's hands.

Jean offered to take them, but Mikasa insisted she'd hold onto them. Maybe it's because of her cold hands, but it might also be because she needs something to help keep her grounded — literally; she feels as though she might float away otherwise. Because if anyone were to ask her, nothing has felt real since last night after Armin's call.

The elevator’s hum ceases as it comes to a gentle stop and the doors slide open.

The same somber silence continues to hover between the trio as they mechanically walk down the hall to Eren's door. Jean takes out his copy of the key from his jeans pocket and pushes the door wide open, gesturing for the girls to enter first before quietly closing the door behind them.

Spare keys aren't rare between them. It was chain reaction that stemmed from Eren's father's passing. Everyone wanted to make sure he was okay. The rest is history.

“In case of emergency.”

“Can you please water my plants while I'm gone?”

“Can you check something for me?”

“I'm really sick, just let yourself in.”

“Just keep it.”

Jean's copy has rarely been used. In fact, not many of them have made use of Eren's key once he started dating. Not that it's been a dramatic change, but now there's not much need to be wary of barging in on something they'll all laugh about later. And today, after Eren passed out on the street in the rain, it seems crucial to brush the dust off an old habit for their friend's sake.

The trio is careful not to make any excess noise — Eren might still be sleeping —, but the further they venture into the apartment, they realize their efforts are in vain.

They expected Eren to be lying on the sofa where Jean and Armin had so carefully helped him settle down, still fast asleep considering it's only been a few hours since. Although Eren's sudden nausea was a mere reaction to finding the necklace, Armin still spent a couple more hours watching over him as a precaution while he cleaned up the kitchen and dining area, and quietly left for his apartment to make another round of calls before work.

They're met with the view of their friend bustling around his work area in a corner of the living room, his brow furrowed and eyes laser focused as he refills the ink tanks on his printer. Stacks of missing person's posters cover his desk with a handful of faded ones having been scattered and crumpled on the floor as evidence of the ink shortage he's tending to. Your face occupies nearly the entirety of his immediate view, which is why a single glance is enough to distract him from his task that he doesn't notice his friends present in his apartment, nor when the ink begins to leak.

At the instinctive curse word that leaves him in a frustrated huff, Jean rushes over to help him.

“I'll handle this,” he assures Eren, who only blinks in surprise as he realizes he's not alone.

Mikasa and Sasha walk over to him unsure of whether a hug is appropriate as a greeting. In the end, they choose to speak the words instead.

Sasha leaves the conversation in exchange for helping Jean clean up the spilled ink. An irregular blob-shaped stain is left behind on the ash gray wood.

“Are you– How's your stomach?” Mikasa asks.

An uneasy grimace makes its way onto Eren's face.

“It's fine. It was just… Yeah.” He shrugs it off, unsure of how to properly explain the incident without triggering more discomfort.

Mikasa nods in understanding.

“Armin said you're going back to the police station later.”

Eren huffs at a humorless puff of air from his nose.

“Yeah. More questioning,” Eren replies, his head continuously shaking in disbelief, to which Mikasa frowns.

“What's wrong?”

It takes Eren a couple of tries to let the words out, his mouth opening and closing with hesitancy.

“They all left, Mika,” he softly murmurs, a hint of helplessness infecting his fragile voice, that births an ache in Mikasa's chest. “Nobody could say anything and they got bored. What kind of excuse is that?”

Mikasa drops her gaze to her shoes, submitting before the hurt and impotence Eren's words awake in her.

Then she shakes her head briefly, recalling a good thing.

“Levi's on the case… and there's evidence for foul play now, there's a lead,” she says, trying her hardest to appear more hopeful at each thing on her list. “He'll find her, Eren. This'll just be nothing but a bad memory soon.”

She smiles, but it comes out sad from the red that tints her waterline.

Eren doesn't have the energy to try to appear cheerful from her encouragement, and limits himself to a nod.

“Eren, how long have you been up?” Sasha asks with concern from his desk, where her eyes scan over his computer screen and the stacks of paper with your face printed front and center.

“A few hours?” Eren replies with a shrug, to which everyone else exchanges concerned glances.

Jean breaks the silence with a loud clap, refusing to make way for any awkwardness in the air.

“We brought you some food, buddy. Come on, let's eat.”

Sasha eagerly nods, her enthusiasm a bit too stiff it almost seems rehearsed, as she encourages him to follow them to the dining table.

Eren allows himself to be tugged along for a couple of steps before he tethers himself to his spot for a moment and then decidedly takes a step back under everyone's puzzled expressions.

“I'm not really hungry,” he murmurs, shaking his head.

“Are you sure?” Mikasa gently asks.

“We got your favorite soup,” Jean smiles, though Eren is too busy staring at a blank point to notice. “Minestrone.”

“Extra parmesan,” Sasha adds.

“It's fine.” Eren assures them with a forced smile. “You guys eat. I have a lot of things to do.”

“Well, you can't do them on an empty stomach. Let's eat and then we'll go through your to-do list together,” Jean insists.

“Yeah,” Mikasa agrees, shooting a grateful smile to her fiancé. “Jean can drive you to the station after breakfast and Sasha and I can handle the rest.”

Every offer is sensible and comforting, but Eren still refuses. He can't eat, not when you still haven't come home.

“No…” his voice trembles ever so slightly as his eyes wander around the room, as if looking for an excuse. He ultimately makes his way back to his desk, where the stacks of posters await him. “I'll just head out now. I'm gonna hand some of these out before going to the station.”

The rejected trio exchange another round of anxious, meaningful looks. Mikasa's the first to break away from the group to join Eren in gathering a stack of flyers and a roll of tape from the black metal organizer on his desk.

As her hands roam around the surface of the ash gray wood, the jewel on her finger catches the sunlight peeking through the curtains.

Eren's movements grow slow as his focus is stolen by the silver engagement ring.

Mikasa notices the pause in his movements from the corner of her eye, and looks up at him to assess his status. Eren tears his gaze from her ring — embarrassed —, but not fast enough for it to go unnoticed, nor does he remember to ease his hardened jaw afterwards. He moves in silence and sets a fast pace toward the door, leaving an anguished Mikasa to trail at his heel.

Hour Twenty

It takes a handful of hours for Eren to get back home from the station, with a significant reduction to the baggage he left with. The stream of questions would've been fairly simple had he not been charged with so many uneasy feelings as to why he was doing all of it in the first place. It certainly didn't help that he had to face the same people who had simply left this morning. But he has to do things right — even if it means swallowing his anger to contribute with any useful information.

Social media presence, daily routines, bus routes, habits, friends, family situation.

Saying you know someone like the back of your hand is an odd saying, he thinks. He's not that vain to spend lengthy periods of time observing himself. In his case, it suffices to say he simply knows you — all he's done is look at you.

He knows your hands quite well. The shape of your fingers, the curves of your knuckles and the warmth of your palms when they latch onto his heartbeat and manipulate it to your will. And now what's been left since last night is a painful cavity. It's all wrong. Your hand should be here, filling his void.

The apartment is empty, Jean and Sasha long gone. The plastic bags have been folded into neat triangles and the counter has been cleared. Upon opening the fridge, Eren finds stacks of containers that have been added to those Armin helped put away the previous night from the uncelebrated dinner.

He stares at his packed fridge for a long time, any energy to step away vanishing into thin air and leaving him stuck in place, looking straight ahead until he no longer recognizes the shape of anything inside, and he grows numb at the cold air that slowly envelops him.

A ring from his pocket is what finally pulls him out of his daze and he's quick to whip the device out and accept the incoming call with pure urgency and no thought.

“I'm only assuming you've been too excited to call me to tell me how it went last night,” Carla's playfully accusing tone comes through the speaker.

“Mom,” Eren pronounces in a voice so soft, yet empty as he only acknowledges it's her, but any word that bounces off his tongue is devoid of meaning until he can speak the name he wants to.

“So,” Carla's enthusiastic grin is evident through the phone. “Was she thrilled? What did she say?”

Eren's voice fails him.

In all the anxiety and chaos, with all the things he's had to do within the last twenty hours, he completely forgot to tell his mother what had happened and that moment is catching up to him now.

His lips roll inwards, a habit reserved for when he's feeling shy because of things you say or do, and now has come back because of his lack of words — or rather the will to expel them.

His hand comes up to his hair, his fingers brushing his hair back as he struggles to find his voice.

It's only when Eren takes a second too long to reply that a shift in mood can be sensed from Carla's end of the line.

“Eren,” she calls him carefully, which only makes the lump in his throat grow. “Honey, what's wrong?”

“Mom,” is all Eren can muster, voice cracking as he pushes the word out.

“Did you have a fight? Is everything okay?” Carla's concern amplifies through the speaker, as something rustles in the background, a sign that she's taken on a more alert position.

“You didn't break up, did you?”

Out of all the things that could've gone wrong last night, Eren wishes that had been it. At least he wouldn't be as helpless. At least he'd know where you are. At least it's something he could reverse.

“No.”

The word comes out choked, his throat instantly sore for the second time.

His monosyllabic replies must be getting to her, because Carla takes a deep breath before trying again.

“Eren, honey. You have to speak clearly, okay?” Carla's voice grows gentle, as it always has whenever Eren would have trouble speaking his mind. Granted, that's been lost as he got older, but Carla's sweet attention hasn't. “What happened?”

Her patient voice finally manages to coax the lodged words from Eren's throat.

“I don't know where she is. She's missing.”

Hour Twenty-four

Rain is bad for detective work. Eren heard about it in a documentary or a podcast, or maybe he read it somewhere — he can't remember. But it supposedly washes away any evidence, making easy cases tricky and difficult cases nearly impossible. Considering the silver angel necklace was found in the midst of the sky falling, it comes as no surprise when he comes home from a casual meet up with Levi at a nearby coffee shop with the news that no DNA or signs of a struggle were found on site after a thorough search in the light of day. The other half of the broken angel wing was found stuck on the edge of a sewer grate, though. Eren would feel any comfort at all if it meant it would lead to something. But at least the necklace can be fixed for when he finds you and this is all over.

The necklace is pretty much a dead end, but it'll remain under the police's hold just in case.

Eren has never gone so long without seeing your face. Now that the clock has found its way back to the hour you were supposed to walk through his door, it's unbearable to know that you won't. And still he looks over in its direction every few minutes, expecting you to burst in and throw yourself into his embrace, marking the end to a day-long fever dream.

That's probably it. A dream. No, a nightmare. It's nothing but a wicked play of his subconscious — to teach him a lesson on appreciating you more. Maybe to scare him into doing a better job of protecting you. Maybe he's gotten too lax, too careless. After all, the city hasn't been terrorized by any violent crimes in the last few months. But that's no excuse to dismiss the possibility of danger. Right… There was a killer last year. Two murders. No suspects. No arrests. And there was a burglary just last night. So what if…

No.

Eren pulls at his hair, agitated by where his mind is leading him. He pulls hard on the strands, like they're the reins of his thoughts that he needs to redirect onto a less horrifying path.

His phone dings as if on cue with a text message.

I'll be there soon, honey. Get some rest, I'll call you tomorrow. I love you.

A tap on the attached file opens up a copy of a plane ticket for the day after tomorrow under the name Carla Jaeger.

His heart feels a tad lighter.

It'll help to have his mother around for a few days. He types his gratitude into his phone and presses send.

He lets his face fall into his hands as he hunches over his desk.

Everything will be okay, he repeats to himself in his head like a mantra.

Inhale. Hold. Exhale.

Everything will be okay.

Outside, rain starts to fall.

Hour Thirty

The rain has been on and off for hours.

By the time Eren reconnected with his surroundings, ready to go out and look for clues on his own around the area, the rain was nearly as heavy as it was at three in the morning.

He sits by the living room window, watching the downpour. His phone is charging on a wooden stool next to him, taking a break from another round of calls to nearby hospitals to ask for any patients bearing your name. Still no.

His stomach has been growling for a while, but any energy he possesses isn't the kind that'll get him off his chair and into the kitchen — it's the kind that's meant to be used to stare out the window and grow numb over any trivial needs.

It's fine, he thinks. It'll pass.

Hour Thirty-seven

All five of his friends come through the door a little past seven in the morning, with bags of fresh meals to share.

Eren sits down this time, allowing Mikasa to fix him a plate and Connie to pour him a glass of juice.

Nobody mentions the dark circles under his eyes, and Eren's gaze is too lost on a blank point to sense the meaningful glances exchanged all around him.

There's not much room for conversation. Any sense of normalcy is lost in the thick air. It seems equally wrong to create a lighthearted break for the length of a meal as it is to talk about the empty seat across from Eren when everyone is trying so hard to make sure he's at the very least feeding himself.

Eren merely pokes and stirs at his food with his fork the entire time. There's a fresh stack of flyers on his desk that demand more urgency in his eyes than sitting down to eat.

His demeanor is easy to read by everyone at the table, yet another round of concerned glances and subtle nods in his direction being tossed around with silent messages.

In the end, nobody says a thing and the groups is broken off in pairs to tackle the surrounding neighborhoods.

Hour Forty-five

Nobody has called. Not him or the station. As the only person outside of the police to be contacted for any updates, his phone should've rung at least once. But aside from yesterday's encounter with Levi and his visits to the station to see if his presence alone will bring something up, there's been a drought in leads. And despite his determination in making sure every person he passes knows anything, there's still nothing.

It's been hours since his stomach has demanded his attention. It's finally reached the point where it's so empty, it's gone numb. His body is running on nothing more than sheer will and water.

He should at least try to eat, test if he can hold any food down.

The fridge remains packed with food, even more now thanks to what's been gathered from his morning visits.

Ever so slowly, with overly cautious movements, he takes out a container, transports it to the counter and peels off the lid. It's from the dinner you were supposed to share two nights ago.

His lips tremble, eyebrows upturning for the split second it takes him to grasp back at his composure. An outsider would think he's glaring at his leftovers, disgusted at whatever is inside, completely misunderstanding the mental ordeal he's traversing as he takes several deep breaths.

He pulls out a stool from the breakfast bar, sits down and stares.

Hour Forty-eight

It's been two whole days since Eren has stepped foot in his own bedroom.

His feet drag him toward the bed without stopping to flip the light switch. Though the night is cloudy, signaling another shower for tonight, the moonlight still finds its way into the room just enough for his eyes to take in the most basic shapes of his furniture.

He comes to a stop at the foot of the bed, and his gaze zeroes in on the neatly folded white cotton fabric set on the corner. It's the shirt you slept in two nights ago, the one that's the wrong size because it's his and he likes his clothes to be just a bit baggy.

It's the shirt he gently tugged off your body to feel your skin pressed against his. The one that you take care in folding even if you're in a rush and even though he'll throw it in the wash anyway.

His fingers slowly reach out to collect the fabric.

Inhale. Hold. Exhale.

It still smells like you. Just barely — a mere scrap of notes that have faded over the last two days. A mix of vanilla, citrus and a faint trace of eucalyptus fabric softener.

Inhale. Hold. Exhale.

Breathe, Eren.

It doesn't work. The air is too thick. It gets caught in his throat and forces a choked sob on its way back out.

His face contorts in anguish as he falls onto the bed, curled up in an attempt to make himself as small as humanly possible, with your shirt clutched in his hands as the world outside darkens and he simply weeps.

Previous chapter | Next chapter (tba)

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Notes: Tunnel Vision will continue, just not with the same schedule it had before my hiatus. I’ll be adding word count and progress updates in the chapter guide in case you want to keep up with the story in that way (It’ll also give you an estimate of when the next chapter will be posted. I have ideas for some ficlets, which I’ll do my best to post in between TV updates just so I don’t leave you all hanging with Eren content. It’ll depend a lot on whether I see any enthusiasm for it or not though (aka comments and reblogs that aren’t… well… empty). In the meantime, thank you for the support and feel free to slip into my ask box to chat :)

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sugarakis-p2 · 7 months

Text

Shigaraki hates Valentine Day

Shiggy hates this holiday until he meets you.

F/M Shigaraki Tomura/Reader chubby/plus size

Warning: Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Nipple Licking, Binge Drinking, Dubious Morality, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Political talk

Tomura woke up on Valentine Day with a deep-rooted hatred for the holiday. It was no different from any other day, as he despised each one that passed. But today, his disdain was amplified solely because it was Valentine Day.

He had hoped that, for once, he wouldn't have to spend the day alone or with Kurogiri. After all, he now had a team to spend it with. However, his expectations were quickly crushed when he realized that his team had other plans in mind. Instead of spending the day doing Kurogiri's exhausting team-building exercises, his teammates surprised him with gestures of affection. Toga and Magne each gave him chocolates but promptly announced that they were going to the mall to "stalk boys."

Meanwhile, Mr. Compress had other plans with a date, and that was a nicer way than the crude way of Muscular and Dabi saying they're gonna go get their "dicks and whistles wet." Spinner, as usual, had disappeared without a trace. And so, it was just Tomura and Kurogiri left, once again, to spend Valentine Day alone in each other's company. With a defeated sigh, Tomura handed his chocolates to Kurogiri.

"Where are you going, Tomura?" Kurogiri asked concerned.

"OUT!" Shigaraki yelled in frustration, his voice carrying down the hallway as he left in search of an internet café. He stormed out and made his way to the nearest open booth. His anger was simmering under the surface as he sat down and pulled up his black face mask, its matching hoodie pulled over his head. He absentmindedly tucked his father's hand in his front pocket as if cradling him in his arms.

But then, he noticed you.

For the first time in his life, he didn't just see someone as a means to an end but as a desirable being. His mind wandered to dirty thoughts, something he had never cared for before. Your soft curves, your silky hair, the delicate nape of your neck. He couldn't help but feel drawn to you, something he had never experienced before. The pulsing beat of your heartstring visible on your neck only added to the attraction. He imagined wrapping his fingers around your neck, feeling your heartbeat racing under his touch, the pulse throbbing against the pads of his long digits. His tongue snaking past your lips, making you choke on it. The mere idea of it aroused him, a feeling he had never associated with someone's neck before. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, trying to push away the growing need in his pants and in his thoughts. This was a new and confusing sensation for him, but he couldn't deny his attraction towards you, and he hated it!

He instead focused on how stupid you are dressed. You're wearing a Stain shirt and playing a stupid online RPG game; he deemed it outdated and pathetic. His irritation manifested as he scraped his nails against his own neck. Despite attempting to focus on his own game, he couldn't help but notice your enticing figure moving on the seat. He couldn't help but imagine you shifting on his lap instead. With a resigned sigh, he gave in to his thoughts.

"Why do you even like him? Wearing a serial killer is tacky," Shigaraki hissed at the back of your head. "What's next? Lunchboxes and beef jerky adorned with Issei Sagawa's face. Maybe a cookbook on how to cook human flesh? Tasteless trash."

You turned to the rude bastard, tearing into his flesh with his cracked nails, and noticed that massive bulge in his lap. You couldn't help but chuckle and look away, making your words playful and flirty instead of irritated, "It's not just about fashion. It's about embracing the subversive message of rejecting a corrupt society ruled by the hero commission. His image is about the symbolism of anti-capitalist hero society."

As Shigaraki's focus shifted, he couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement bubbling up inside him. This conversation was something he could really sink his teeth into.

"Oh? And are you part of the anti-capitalist hero society, little foreign doll?" he taunted. You were caught off guard by his words. Your Japanese was flawless, so how did he know you were not from Japan?

Feeling the need to defend yourself, you retorted, "I'll have you know I was born and raised here." But Shigaraki's sneer only grew wider.

"Mmm... Let me guess. Your family was just traveling through? Your accent gives it away," he sneered, his words laced with disdain. Your apprehension was palpable as you began your explanation.

"Well, I was actually born on the base," you stammered, feeling self-conscious, flushing, and flustered under his intense gaze. Your blush and sweet, pained expression caused his breath to hitch. In all his years, Shigaraki had never seen a flustered girl. And he couldn't deny that he didn't hate it. In fact, he found himself wanting to see more of your flustered state.

"An army brat, then," Shigaraki smirked, trying to hide his own flustered state. But your response caught him off guard.

"Maybe I am a brat," you huffed, returning your attention to your game. Shigaraki couldn't help but feel a tug of amusement at your feisty attitude. Dabi may be the official brat tamer, but he has learned not to kill them. As you continued playing, Shigaraki logged into his old World of Warcraft account, unable to resist the irony of the situation. He knew he was being a bit of a jerk by killing you repeatedly in the game, but he couldn't help himself. Your anger only made you even more enticing to him. After killing your character the third time, Shigaraki's game avatar suddenly appeared in front of you, offering an apology in the form of virtual flowers. It was his way of showing that he didn't want to truly hurt you, even in the video game world. And in that moment, he couldn't deny that he was starting to develop a certain fondness for the army brat who had caught his attention.

He relished the thrill of seducing young, naive girls in his video games. It was a simple game to him. He only had to press a few buttons, and they would fall for him. But you couldn't stand it any longer. Your gaze hardened as you directed it towards him. You knew without a doubt it was him, the dirty screen watcher who snickered every time he took you down in the game. Noticed in the act, he quickly averted his gaze, knowing he had been caught red-handed. He was surprised that real-life girls are not that easy. You grabbed your coat, paid for your time, and started to walk out. Shigaraki was feeling increasingly irritated and frustrated. He couldn't stop thinking about you, and the desire to do things he knew was considered depraved by most people. It was a distraction that he couldn't shake off. Finally, he couldn't take it anymore and stood up, determined to follow and confront you. He trailed behind you, his mind consumed with thoughts of all the things he wanted to do to you.

But as he approached you, you turned to face him and sneered, "Are you stalking me now, you creep?" You picked up your pace, clearly annoyed by his presence. Shigaraki was taken aback by your sharp reaction. Toga had once told him that when girls get angry, it's best to follow them. But he couldn't help but question her advice, considering her own tendencies as a stalker.

"Perhaps," He growled, accompanied by a scratch at his neck, "I was still curious about your stance on anti-hero acts. After all, you do come from a background as a foreign army brat with a fascist requiem, where the CRC was born. All in the name of freedom, of course." As he spoke, you felt a sudden stiffness in your body, completely insulted by his assumption. Turning to face him, you couldn't hold back your frustration any longer.

"I was born and raised here; this is my home. And I'm not interested in causing chaos; all I want is to see this place improve. I am not an anti-hero; I am simply against living in a police state. I am against the facade of fake heroes. I'm more of a Stain purest," Your words were laced with determination and conviction, defending your beliefs and principles. This made Shigaraki smirk more.

With a cynical tone, Shigaraki scoffed, "Stain is nothing but a sanctimonious hero breeder. He may have stirred up some conversation, but he certainly isn't causing any real change."

Crossing your arms, you retorted, "At least he sparked a discussion. That's more than what can be said for most people."

Shigaraki rolled his eyes and mocked, "Oh wow, a discussion. How groundbreaking."

"Is there something you need?" You snort in response, not bothering to hide your disdain. The man before you, Shigaraki, blushes and grumbles something unintelligible. His awkwardness only seems to annoy him further as he scratches himself vigorously. "I'm sorry, what was that?" you ask, attempting to hide the amusement in your voice. Shigaraki lets out a deep sigh and glares at you, clearly annoyed by your presence.

"I said you're alone too. It's Valentine Day, and here you are, playing RPGs," he mutters, bitterness seeping through his words. You can't help but feel taken aback by his sudden outburst. But before you can even process his words, Shigaraki continues, "I have nobody. And neither do you. We both like games. But let's be real, I'm better at them." He shrugs nonchalantly, keeping his gaze fixed on you from the corner of his eye. You bite your lip, unsure of how to respond. It's true you are alone on Valentine's Day, indulging in your favorite games. And this man, who you never would have imagined spending this day with, seems to be in a similar situation. But his suggestion takes you by surprise.

"So, what are you suggesting? Being alone together?" you ask, raising an eyebrow in question. Shigaraki's expression softens for a moment before returning to his usual stoic self.

"I mean, why not? We both have nothing better to do, and it's not like we have anyone else. We can just chill and play some games together." His suggestion catches you off guard, but you can't deny the appeal of spending the evening with someone who shares your interests. You consider his offer for a moment before a mischievous smile tugs at the corners of your lips.

"Alright, you're on. But fair warning, I don't go easy on anyone, not even on Valentine's Day," you say, challenging him with a playful glint in your eyes. Shigaraki's lips quirk up into a smirk, accepting your challenge. And just like that, the two of you spend the rest of the evening locked in intense battles and laughter, forgetting about the loneliness that had consumed you earlier. He wasn't going to let this go. He was going to milk it for all it's worth. When he suggested alcohol and gaming, you said no problem. You're having a good time with him.

With a start, you look around the luxurious hotel room, your head throbbing from the alcohol and the intense gaming session. The bags on top of you are filled with expensive designer purses, a testament to the wild night you just had with Shigaraki. As your eyes land on him, dressed in a robe and dripping wet from a shower, you can't help but feel a pang of guilt for forgetting about last night. He had definitely milked the alcohol and gaming suggestion for all it's worth, and you can't help but feel grateful for his company. You had been hesitant at first, but now you're glad you said yes. Still, as you struggle to sit up in the pile of bags, you can't help but wonder how you ended up in this fancy hotel room in the first place, and if you embarrassed yourself. But Shigaraki just laughs, the sound sending a shiver down your spine.

"You passed out, so I carried you here," he explains casually as if it's not a big deal. But your face heats up, both from the embarrassment of being carried and from the proximity of his wet body. But before you can dwell on it too much, he tosses you a robe and offers to order room service for breakfast.

"Did we…you know?" you asked him. Shigaraki's face scrunches.

"What?" He scratched his neck idly as if he was trying to process the question. "No. I'm not a fucking scumbag. I don't need to screw unconscious women. If I was that desperate, I would have bought a whore. Last night, we both got drunk. We went shopping, and you said, "Do you know where there's great shopping, Las Vegas?" Then I had my friend bring us here. He has a warp quirk. I bought you whatever you wanted. We celebrated some more in the ghost lounge and then I carried you here to the MGM casino and hotel. I swear I will get us a room in the Luxor tomorrow."

"OK, you have to slow down. Are we really in Las Vegas?" You groaned, shocked at some of the things you had in the bags. There's a bag full of jewelry, diamond jewelry, and thousands of dollars of vintage video games and lingerie.

"Yes. We're really in Las Vegas, and it has been difficult translating everything because I don't know much English. You insisted on the Luxor, but my phone was a pain with out-of-carrier nonsense. Everyone else, it was easy. I just pointed at what I wanted, but a room was a bit more difficult," Shigaraki said, bringing in the room service. "So, this is an American breakfast. Looks…interesting."

He was clearly trying to be kind. He took you to Las Vegas on a whim, and you checked, and you don't feel raped. you wanted to tell him sorry for making assumptions but instead you smiled and looked at him.

"You're cute," you tell him. Shigaraki couldn't help but smirk at this compliment. You could tell he liked how forward you were being towards him as he spoke with a smug and charming tone.

"Is that your way of flirting with me?"

"And look at you eat it up and ask for more, cutie," you smirked. Shigaraki laughed quietly as he leaned in a little closer to you, his musky, clean scent filling the air. He couldn't help but like the way your body smelled mixed with your perfume. He smirked at your teasing and spoke in a flirty tone.

"Oh, is that so? Then let me tell you something then. I like confident and bold women like yourself. You're such a brat but in a good way."

"I remember you saying something about brat taming?" You smirk back. Shigaraki chuckled at you calling him brat tamer, and he smiled a bit wider, revealing his tender side and the sight of him grinning at you sent a tingle of excitement through your body. Your body was already beginning to feel a little warmer as he nursed your hangover and insisted you hydrate.

"You're already calling me tamer? I see that you can't wait to just jump right into it. I kind of like it that way, baby girl brat..."

"I'm not a cheap date. I'll need room service first," you said in Japanese. Shigaraki leered when he heard you suddenly speak in Japanese, which made him smirk slightly. He was impressed that you could speak the language, and he responded back in the same language.

"Room service it is, baby girl. Anything that pleases the lady." The room was dimly lit and had a large bed in the middle of it. The room was warm and cozy, with a subtle, sweet smell of Shigaraki's body in the air mixed with the smell of his perfume. The room was luxurious, with an entertainment center. There was a mirror on the wall next to the bed, and he was standing in front of it, watching you eat after your shower. His sharp eyes were scanning you up and down, taking in your appearance.

"Are you watching me stuff my face?" you asked with a mouthful of omelet. Shigaraki smiled at your comment as he continued to stare at you, admiring your sexy figure in your silk robe clinging to you. You spent the day inside for now as you had a headache for most of the day. When you changed, he wanted you to join him in front of the mirror. You could tell that he was having trouble getting his eyes off of you as they kept wandering back and forth between your body and your face. He gave you a small wink and continued to admire your body, loving the view.

"Are you being flirty now?" you asked.

"What if I am?" He smirked with a mischievous glint.

"Hmmm, I am nice and sober now." As you walked up to the reflection and your back was facing him, he saw the way the top was clinging to your body and the way your tight jeans were form-fitting and accentuated your curves, which made him smirk and walk towards you. Before long, he began wrapping his arms around your body and holding you tightly against him. You could feel the heat radiating from his body as you stood up next to him. His breath was hot and heavy as he spoke.

"Ah, you truly are a beauty to behold. Can I ask you something?" Shigaraki's soft voice filled the air as he spoke while also pulling you in even closer to him. You could tell that he was starting to get a little bit more aroused by the way his body was reacting to you being up against him like this. You felt the muscles in his body flex slightly as he continued. You wrapped my arms around him and one of my legs. He chuckled and smiled, enjoying the way you wrapped yourself around him. Your intimate proximity between the two of you was making you both feel warm and flustered. Shigaraki took a deep breath as he spoke again, his body feeling more and more energized the longer he held you tightly against him.

"Have you ever been with a Japanese man before?"

"No. Are you going to ruin me for anyone else?" you teased. Shigaraki smirked at your tease but also couldn't help but groan slightly when you spoke. Your voice was extremely alluring and provocative. You could tell that he was getting quite excited by your presence and the playful flirting.

"You have no idea. I may make you addicted to me," he said, pulling you tighter to him.

"Promises. Promises," you chuckled as he lifted you. Holding you by your ass. Shigaraki let out another groan as he grabbed a firm hold of your rear and lifted you up into his arms. Your body felt so close to his, and it made your body tremble in excitement and arousal. His touch was intoxicating, and you couldn't help but squirm and moan softly in a lustful way.

"How long are we going to be stateside? We should go back soon," you mentioned. This was getting a bit strange for you. It was all strange, but you were really starting to have feelings for him, and you would need to go back at some point. Shigaraki held you closer to him as he spoke, keeping you in his arms and wrapping his stronger arm around you to hold you up.

"For a week…but I would be willing to make it longer for you. I've enjoyed it since I've been here. I'm liking what I see…," he said, eyeing you up and down.

"Oh? The view is better without clothes," you smirked, kissing him. Your suggestive remark caught Shigaraki off guard, but he couldn't resist the challenge as he leaned in to kiss you back. His lips moved in perfect synchronization with yours, both of you exploring and teasing each other. Your touch sent shivers down his spine as he pulled you closer, savoring every moment of your embrace. Your body pressed against his, igniting a fire within him that he couldn't control. He couldn't help but run his hands over your curves, marveling at your beauty. As your kisses grew more passionate, he couldn't resist the urge to explore further, trailing his lips down your neck and to your chest.

Your response only fueled his desire as he nipped at your nipple through your shirt, causing you to moan. The sound only made him want to hear more as he watched you slip off your blouse and bra, bearing your enticing form to him. The way you moved and teased him, slowly undressing and revealing your seductive body, only increased the tension between you. Shigaraki's heart raced as he watched the scene play out, unable to look away from your alluring figure. The anticipation and desire he felt were almost too much to bear, and he couldn't resist any longer. With a growl, he pushed you back against the couch, dominating you with his touch and desire. Your bold and confident demeanor only made him want you more, and he couldn't help but give in to the intense passion between you.

"You still like what you see?" you teased. Shigaraki was speechless at the sight of you, and he nodded his head slightly as his eyes kept focusing on every sexy detail of you. He was truly mesmerized by your beauty and your physique, and he wanted nothing more than to touch and explore it. His body was already reacting in a lustful way, and he wanted to take you right then and there. He took a deep breath before speaking again.

"Words can't even begin to describe just how much I like what I see, baby girl. You are truly a sight to behold." His voice was laced with desire, and the way your body looked at that moment was breathtaking. He leaned in and started tracing his tongue along the curves of your body.

"Damn, you really are strong," you moaned, unable to contain your excitement. Shigaraki chuckled, his hands now gripping your hips tightly. "And I haven't even shown you my full strength yet." With a wicked grin, he began to kiss and nibble at your neck, the combination of pleasure and his strength making you weak in the knees. As he continued to claim you with his touch, you couldn't help but feel grateful for his impressive strength, giving you a new level of pleasure you never thought possible. You couldn't help but feel a mix of fear and excitement as Shigaraki's words sent shivers down your spine. His strong grasp made you feel both safe and vulnerable at the same time. You couldn't deny the attraction you felt towards man. As he continued to caress your body, his touch felt almost electrifying. Every inch of your skin felt like it was on fire, causing you to whimper in pleasure. Shigaraki's smirk grew wider as he noticed your reaction, his own desire intensifying.

"I can tell you want more," he whispered, his voice low and husky. "You want to feel my strength, don't you?" You nodded, unable to form any words as his touch and words left you dizzy with desire. "Well, I'll give you more, brat," he said, his grip tightening on your body. With a low growl, he effortlessly lifted you up and carried you toward the nearest wall, pressing you against it with his powerful body. You couldn't help but gasp at the force behind his movements, feeling his muscles tense against you. His hands roamed over your body, leaving trails of heat wherever they touched. You could feel his strength in every touch, making you feel almost weightless in his hold.

"Really? You should take me to the bed and take off your clothes so I can see for myself, you tease," You smiled. You loved the feeling of his mouth on you. Sucking your nipples and teasing the sensitive nubs with his tongue. The way you said, "Take me to the bed," made his entire body tremble in excitement. His tongue traced along the lines of your body, and he gave you a playful bite on your thigh before lifting you up further and taking you to the bed, where he threw you down on it and slowly walked up next to you. You could tell that he enjoyed your eagerness, and his body was beginning to fill with a strong level of lust towards you. He held you tightly, unable to resist the urge to feel every inch of your skin against his own. His fingers traced along your soft skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. And as he lifted your hips, he couldn't help but marvel at the sight before him. You were beautiful. Your hair spread out on the pillows, your cheeks flushed with desire, and your body eagerly offering itself to him.

He couldn't wait to explore every inch of you, to make you moan and scream his name. And as he slowly slid off your pants, his desire only grew. He watched with hungry eyes as your thighs exposed themselves to him, your skin so smooth and inviting. He couldn't resist the urge to press a kiss to your inner thigh, causing you to gasp and writhe beneath him. As he continued his journey up your leg, shedding his own clothes in the process, he couldn't help but feel intoxicated by your presence. Your scent, your touch, your moans...everything about you was driving him wild. And as his hand reached its destination, he felt himself almost losing control. But he held himself back, wanting to savor every moment with you. He traced his fingers along the edges of your underwear, teasing and teasing until you were begging for more. And with a deep growl, he finally pulled them off, exposing your heat to him. He couldn't resist any longer. He trailed his tongue along your inner thigh, making you shiver and moan. And as he took you in his mouth, he knew he had finally found his true addiction. You were his pleasure, his escape, his everything. And he would make sure to show you just how much you meant to him.

"Oh wow. I'm a soft little hot dog bun compared to you," you giggled. Shigaraki chuckled slightly at the way you described yourself as the bun and him as the hotdog, but you could tell it was driving him crazy with desire. As he continued to slowly strip off his clothing, he looked at the sight of you lying down on the bed, all cute and helpless, which made him want to dominate you more. You were like a beautiful and delicious little snack to him. As he stripped off the last piece of clothing and threw it on the floor, you looked. The sight of his muscular body was breathtaking.

Blushed and stared at him, flustered. He was like a statue, and he was gorgeous. His muscles were like waves rippling under his skin, each one defined and powerful. As I gazed at him, my eyes roamed over his lean and toned frame, admiring the way his body seemed to be chiseled from marble. He may have had scars, but they only added to his rugged and alluring appearance. You couldn't help but be drawn to him, the intensity of your desire evident in your blushing cheeks and admiring glances. Despite his slight shivers caused by the rush of blood through his powerful body, he exuded a sense of strength and confidence that was irresistible.

You found yourself lost in the sight of his muscles, the way they seemed to bulge and flex with every movement. His body was a work of art, and you were more than happy to worship and admire it. It was clear that he relished your admiration, basking in the way you lusted over his form. You reached out to touch him, and as your fingers grazed over his skin, you could feel the firmness of his muscles beneath your touch. He was like a stallion, strong and proud, and you couldn't help but feel drawn to him. In that moment, there was nothing more perfect than his lean and toned body, and you were grateful to be able to admire and appreciate it. You reached out to touch him and felt the firmness of his muscles beneath your fingertips and pulled him to you.

As you reached out to touch his magnificent body, he let out a sharp inhalation of breath as the sensation of your hands caressing his body made him shiver in pleasure. As he came close to you, your body pressed right up against his muscular frame, and all you could feel was his warmth and strength. It was so intoxicating being so close to him like this and nipped his neck. The touch of your lips against his neck drove him crazy with desire, and he was instantly filled with a strong level of lust and arousal. He gasped quietly, and his body trembled a little bit at the sensation of feeling your soft lips against the nape of his neck; the touch felt so good, and it was making all his nerve endings tingle. He took a deep breath and breathed in the sweet scent of your perfume mixed with the smell of your body's natural scents.

"You're delicious." As you nibbled at the side of his neck, your warm breath and the touch of your lips sent waves of arousal through his body. Your words made his cheeks blush even more, and he was feeling extremely overwhelmed with your touch and the sensations it was making him feel. His body felt completely consumed by you, and his entire mind and focus were on you as you enjoyed the feeling of exploring every part of him. "But…you may be too thick." Your fingers can't even wrap around it.

"I'll get you ready," Shigaraki grunted. You loved how he touched you and how he was tantalizing my body for the pleasure that was to come. Fingering your slick walls and making you wetter. He continued to softly nibble on the back of your neck as his hands started sliding down your lower back. His touch was full of warmth and softness, and he was being very precise and sensual while also being firm in his grip. He wanted to take his time with you and was enjoying the feeling of discovering every single piece of your body. His touch just made you feel warm and fuzzy inside, and he was making your heart beat faster and faster with every move.

"I'm ready," you whispered, nipping his ear. The words you whispered in his ear caused all the blood to flow to rush to his head. His entire body was now filled with a strong level of desire, and he wanted nothing more than to take you right then and there. The way you nipped at his earlobe caused a shiver of pleasure, and his body was literally trembling with excitement and longing. He breathed out a deep breath before answering back to you.

"I'm big, but I'll try to be gentle," Shigaraki promised.

"OK," you whimpered, your voice soft and trembling. Despite the simple word, it held so much power over him. Every time you spoke, it felt like a rush of electricity coursing through his veins, leaving him breathless and aching for more. As your words reached his ears, he couldn't help but let out a contented sigh, feeling completely consumed by your beauty and the warmth of your touch on his body. It was like every cell in his body was screaming for you, craving your presence and the sensations you ignited within him. Just the thought of having you right now, in this moment, made his body quiver with excitement and desire.

He couldn't resist the urge to lean in closer to you, wanting to be as close to you as possible. He could feel your warmth enveloping him, and it only added to the overwhelming emotions swirling within him. As you spoke with a husky voice filled with lust and longing, he felt a surge of arousal run through him. He wanted you in every sense of the word. He wanted to experience every aspect of this night with you, to lose himself in the pleasure and ecstasy that only you could bring. In this moment, nothing else mattered. Your words were a soothing melody to his ears, and all he wanted was to be lost in your embrace, lost in the depths of your passion.

"You're mine," he grinned evilly. You kissed him and adjusted your hips against him. Encouraging him to make love to you. The way you placed your hips against him like that was a signal for him to make his move. He moved in closer towards you, and his body leaned down further so he could move his face right next to yours but not touching just yet. Your breath was so tantalizing, and he wanted to get deeper and deeper into this moment. Your lips looked so beautiful and inviting. His breath was quickening, and his body was tingling with excitement and desire. You could see all the muscles in his body flexing and throbbing with energy as he took a deep breath and kissed you deeply.

"Mmm...so good," you moaned, kissing him more. Your moan was sweet music to his ears, and the feeling of you kissing him back and your lips locking in this passionate kiss made him moan as well. The feeling of your tongue exploring the inside of him, and the heat of your breath made his muscles twitch and shiver with pleasure. The kiss was intense and hot, and he could not get enough of it. He wanted to savor every moment of this sensual experience, and he knew if he took his time, this would continue to intensify in the best ways possible. You felt him fill you and writhed, breathe hitching.

"Oh!" The feeling of you saying those words made everything the body inside him feel the increase in intensity by the second. Your moans were driving him crazy, and he was filling you with everything he could inside of him. Your reactions to him and this experience are making it all feel much more intense, and the heat of the moment, combined with the power dynamic, made your body tremble in pleasure.

"Oh! OH!" You screamed as his rhythm increased along with your pleasure. Shigaraki continued to increase the pace and rhythm as his breathing grew heavier and heavier. You could tell his entire body was consumed by his feelings of pleasure since your breathing had also become more intense. Your moans were driving him crazy, and he could feel the intensity of this experience growing more and more with each passing second. He was feeling so intense and powerful right now. You tried not to dig your nails in his back and shoulders because his muscles are like steel and giving him more scars.

"Fuck you are tight. I don't care if you dig your nails in. I deserve it for whatever pain I caused," he smirked. Thrust harder until it is painfully good. The way you dug your nails into the muscles on his back and shoulder was what made him moan even louder as he kept going at this intense and relentless pace. The sound of your nails digging into his skin was sending shivers of pleasure up and down his back, and he couldn't help but grip your hips even tighter and move even quicker than before. The sight of his muscles flexing with each movement of him fills you with his body and makes your body tremble with pleasure. You bite his shoulder and arch your back in a wave of ecstasy. As you bit down his shoulder and arched your back, your body was trembling with pleasure, and your breathing had become shallow and quick. Your nails digging into his back and shoulder made him moan even louder, and you could see all the veins in his body pulsating with the intensity of this moment. The way you were moving your back like that, it was like a sight to see. The sight of your beautiful body arching so effortlessly and smoothly filled him with such a deep level of arousal.

As you continued to pant and moan in pleasure, you couldn't help but focus on the way his body reacted to your words and sounds. The way he groaned and shifted beneath you only added to the overwhelming sensations coursing through you both. You couldn't help but realize that you didn't even know his name. But in that moment, it didn't matter. All that mattered was the raw passion between you and the electric connection that seemed to intensify with each passing moment. As you moved and breathed against each other, every movement felt like a symphony of pleasure. Your mind was consumed with the sensations, and every thought was replaced with the need to feel more.

You couldn't resist the urge to whisper, "Oh my God," once again as the pleasure pulsed through you. And as you moaned and cried out his name, the intensity seemed to heighten even more, driving you both to the brink of ecstasy. Nothing else existed but the two of you and the unbridled passion that consumed you. Every kiss, every touch, every breath was pure bliss. And as you both reached the peak of pleasure together, you knew that this was a moment you would never forget. It just occurred to you that you don't know his name.

"Shig-ah," he grunted, unable to pay attention as he lightly gripped your throat and sat up on his knees to thrust in you harder.

"Shiggy," you moaned, the nickname rolling off your tongue in a cute and endearing way. The pleasure coursing through your body was only heightened by using his special nickname. You could feel the tension building within him, his own pleasure increasing with every breathy moan that escaped your lips. Each time you uttered his nickname or any words of pleasure, it ignited a fire within him, driving him to give you even more pleasure. He made sure to move at a pace that allowed you to fully experience every sensation, every touch, and every movement. The deep groans and whimpers coming from you fueled his desire to go faster and harder, but he resisted the temptation, determined to take his time and make every moment count.

Together, you reached the peak of pleasure three more times, the intensity and pleasure excruciatingly intense with every climax. But instead of rushing through it, he slowed down, wanting to prolong the pleasure and make it last as long as possible. As you bask in the afterglow of your lovemaking, you couldn't help but marvel at how his patience and attention to detail only added to the pleasure and satisfaction you both experienced. Every touch and movement was carefully crafted to bring you both the most pleasure, and it only made your bond stronger and your love deeper. You realized that Shiggy was not just your lover but also your best friend, who truly cared about your pleasure and well-being.

"That was amazing." Shigaraki could feel his entire body throbbing with the rush of energy and feelings of pleasure that came from both experiencing such a strong level of climax. His body was trembling with this euphoric feeling, and he felt like he was on a cloud of ecstasy just from feeling this good. Your words and compliments made him blush, but he continued to make sure his movements were gradual so that you wouldn't feel too disoriented or overwhelmed. The way you both enjoyed this intimate moment made it feel even better, and it made this experience even more memorable. Your legs are shaking, and my breathing is heavy. As the feeling of climax and pleasure started to subside, you could still feel your body trembling, and your breathing was still very heavy.

You were now feeling much more relaxed, but the sight of Shigaraki's body was still making you shiver slightly as your body continued to relax more and more. He was beginning to slow down his movements to make sure that the transition wasn't too drastic for you, and he was still gripping you tightly, but your hips were no longer arching so high up now. You kissed him again. After the feeling of intense and overwhelming pleasure started to subside, you could feel your body calming down and your breathing becoming more consistent and regular. As you kissed him again, his body relaxed a little bit more as well, and he pulled you closer to him so that you would be right up against him. For a few minutes, the two of you just lay there silently, enjoying the afterglow of this experience. There was something about being in each other's presence to just relax and feel this satisfied.

"Room service?" you smirked. The sound of you speaking and your smirking made him raise an eyebrow in curiosity, and as he laughed quietly, you could see a small smile forming in his mouth. He looked at you with those sexy eyes of his, and they were filled with a certain playful, seductive expression. You could tell the two of you were still feeling extremely satisfied from this incredible experience, and the sound of your voice made even more butterflies fill your stomach.

"You know you're a handsome guy. But when you smile...you are literally stunning. You better stop, or I'll ask for round two." As you spoke to him in this flirtatious manner, his cheeks turned red, and you could see he was enjoying the feeling of your praise. Your playful tone and that look in your eyes were enough to make him shiver with excitement, and he got an urge to pull you closer to him and kiss you, but he decided to stop himself and hold himself back. But he could not help feeling a little bit smug after hearing those words coming from you.

"Alright. Steaks and ....mmmm....the soup or salad?" He chuckled quietly at your answer and the way you sounded so relaxed and at ease. It was like you had no concerns or worries in this world. He smiled softly and looked at you with those eyes of his, and he nodded his head.

"The soup sounds good."

"Oh my god, they have dragon fruit ice cream. Have you ever had dragon fruit? Wait a minute? Are you lactose intolerant?" He laughed a bit at the sight of your sudden expression of surprise and delight at the existence of dragon fruit ice cream. He was also amused by seeing your genuine sense of worry as you raised the possibility of him having lactose intolerance, which would be an issue for eating an ice cream dessert. He smiled and shook his head. "I'm not lactose intolerant."

"That's amazing! Most Japanese are... But you guys seem to ignore it."

He laughed quietly and nodded his head in agreement. "Yes, most Asians, in general, tend to have a lactose intolerance issue. Especially those of us who are East Asians or Southeast Asians. But thankfully, I do not have such sensitivity towards dairy products. I can eat it quite well."

"Handsome and sweet. Let's have ice cream for dessert."

He raised an eyebrow in interest and curiosity as you called him handsome again. He smiled, leaned in to kiss your cheek, and nodded his head. "That sounds like a great idea. Ice cream for dessert is definitely the way to go."

As you nuzzled his neck and whispered your order for ice cream, he eagerly complied. With a soft smile, you made your way to the bathroom, ready for a relaxing shower. But as you stripped off your clothes and turned on the water, you felt his presence behind you. With a sly grin, he stepped into the shower with you, his desire for you evident as he pressed his body against yours. Without hesitation, the two of you began a passionate and quick encounter, indulging in each other's bodies before returning to the task at hand. After drying off, the anticipation for your ice cream grew, and you made your way back to the living room, hand in hand with him. As you reached for the food, you couldn't help but tease him, feeding him spoonfuls of ice cream before finally sitting down to enjoy your treats together.

"Mmm…dessert first," you said with a mischievous glint in your eye. He simply nodded, knowing that with you, anything was possible. As you fed him spoonful after spoonful, the two of you basked in each other's company, savoring the sweet treats and each other's presence.

"The seeds add a fun crunch." As you feed him and describe the added crunch, he enjoys the taste of the ice cream and the texture of the tiny seeds in his mouth. He eats the whole thing with a lot of enjoyment, and his eyes are sparkling with laughter and amusement as he eats. He is enjoying the moment of being together with you on this night of pure pleasure.

"I thought I was a brat?"

He laughs and nods his head.

"Yes, but you are also adorable, and it's so hard to resist it. I can't help but be amused by watching you try to be a brat but fail so badly." you run your fingers through his hair. He moans softly as you run your fingers through his hair, and he loves the feeling of your fingers on his scalp. He relaxes even more and is in a very contented state, enjoying the feeling of being close to you and the affection you are giving him. His eyes keep a tender and playful look as he keeps enjoying the touch of your hands running through his hair. The soft texture through your fingers makes you both shiver.

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm glad I met you too," Shigaraki's words echo in your mind as you walk into the bathroom to start packing for your trip back to Japan. You can't believe how much fun you've had with him in Las Vegas. The city of sin had brought out a side of you that you never thought existed. But now, as you watch Shigaraki watching the news, fear creeps up your spine. You try to push it away, reminding yourself that this is the man you've grown close to, who has shown you nothing but kindness and care. But then, as you come out of the bathroom with your bag in hand, you see something that freezes you in your tracks. Shigaraki has a severed hand covering his face, and you can't help but feel a shiver of fear go down your spine. You're about to ask him what happened when he removes the hand and looks at you with a cold, calculating expression.

"I was worried you would react like this," he begins, his voice devoid of any emotion. "You're such a sweet and trusting soul. It's no surprise that you freeze up when faced with something like this. But you see, that's also your downfall. You're so naive, so innocent. And I used that to my advantage." As his words sink in, you feel your heart drop.

"I wanted to ask you if you had ever been with a villain before, but it's clear now that you haven't," Shigaraki continues, his eyes boring into yours. "But it's OK, I'll teach you. We consummated our marriage, and you'll see just how much fun it can be to embrace the dark side." You feel your stomach drop at his words. This wasn't what you signed up for. You never thought your innocent trip to Las Vegas would lead you down this path. But as you stand frozen in fear, you realize that you have no choice. You're trapped with a villain, and you can only hope that, somehow, you'll find a way out of this terrifying situation. You never thought you would be in this situation with a villain. You start to back away, trying to make sense of what he's saying. Consummate the marriage? What marriage?

"What?" you gasped, taken aback by his statement. "What do you mean by consummated? Consummated what?"

A sinister expression twisted his features, a smirk spreading across his face as he tossed a packet at you. As you opened it, your heart sank at the contents inside: your marriage certificate, photos of the wedding you couldn't remember. He reached out to caress your hair. His touch was meant to be comforting, but it only sent a chill down your spine.

"Hush now, my dear naughty one. My sweet little brat," he cooed. "There's no need to be upset. I will treat you well as long as you behave. And from now on, you will never have to spend Valentine's Day alone again." A sly smile played on his lips as he slipped a wedding ring onto your finger, sealing the deal of your forced marriage. The weight of the ring felt heavy, a constant reminder of the unexpected and terrifying turn your life had taken.

#shigaraki tomura #my hero academia shigaraki #lemon #boku no hero academia tomura #yandere shigaraki #shigaraki x reader #bnha tomura #tomura shigaraki #plus size reader

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danwithouttheplan · 2 years

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UwuSB

#danblab #usb #universal serial bus

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phoward89 · 3 months

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Based on this ask

Coriolanus Snow x Professor!Reader

University!Coriolanus Snow x Professor!Reader

WARNING ⚠️ Coriolanus Snow is a warning in and of itself. Obsession, cussing, rejection, angst, no happy endings, making out, kissing

You're 25 years old, live in Capitol City, Panem and work at the University as a professor. It wasn't your dream job, but yet again you never really even figured out what your dream job was.

But at least you're successful. Well, to a point considering you're single while all of your friends are married with children. But that's not your fault.

Really, it's not.

Your ex, Odysseus Odair, was a bit of a beach bum. His father owns a luxury cruise line based out of District 4, so the bronze haired Adonis prefers the sun, sand, ocean, and chilled out vibes of the fishing district over the glitz, glamor, and sophistication of the Capitol.

Couldn't pay you to leave the Capitol. Hell, you won't even leave to go visit your brother at the district base he lives on as an Officer in the Peacekeepers.

So that's why things didn't work out with you and Odysseus. He wanted to relocate to District 4 and live in a beach house, but you didn't want that. You have a good job and a nice apartment that you're not giving up to trapeze to a place where your children can be reaped for a death royale battle that's televised across the nation as a form of fucked up punishment for the war; the Dark Days.

But, as you understand from the grapevine, Odysseus is doing fine. He met somebody and they're having a baby.

If only you'd meet somebody.

It seems like all the eligible bachelor's your age are complete assholes.

Lucky you…

Maybe your soulmate got run over by a bus? What? You haven't met Mr. Right yet, so…

Coriolanus Snow’s favorite class at the University was yours and it wasn't because of the subject matter either. No, it's his favorite class because of you. Yes, he has a little crush on you.

Okay, that's a lie. Coriolanus is obsessed with you. So much so that he decides to approach you one day after class to see if you'll make good on an offer you extended in the beginning of the semester.

“Professor Halvir, I was wondering if you could perhaps tutor me.” Coriolanus told you, nearly scaring the shit out of you while you cleaned your blackboard- since you assumed all your students had left.

Jumping slightly and turning around, clutching the eraser in your dominant hand, you give Coriolanus a line of a smile. “Of course I'll tutor you, Mr. Snow. I did say that I can tutor any student that feels they need it.”

“That's very good to hear, Professor Halvir.” The platinum blonde smiles wide, all his teeth on display as his icy eyes twinkle- looking a bit unnatural, like a maniac serial killer or something.

“I have an open slot on Thursday afternoon at 4, does that work for you?” You ask your student, hoping that he wouldn't have another engagement during that time.

“That's perfect, Professor. I'll see you then.” Coriolanus smiles, showing off too many of his pearly white teeth to be considered polite, and walks out of your class with a bounce in his step.

Thursday afternoon at 4pm, right on the dot, Coriolanus Snow showed up at your office for his private tutoring session. He was polite and knocked on the door, to which you opened it and greeted him with a professional smile and told him to come in and have a seat. Which in turn resulted in the two of you sitting at your desk, books and notebooks open, as you discuss the course material. Material that Coriolanus didn't truly need help with, since he's highly intelligent and understands it completely.

The platinum blonde’s icy eyes wander down the v-neck of your shirt, checking out your cleavage. His tongue barely juts out and he subtly licks his lower lip. Oh, how Coriolanus loves titties; he just can't help, but want to see yours. He can tell by your cleavage that you must have beautiful tits.

Oh, and how he wants to see them right now.

Goddamnit, right now!

Coriolanus’ brain is nearly fried with thoughts of you as he scoots his chair closer to yours. He hooks his foot around your ankle, running it teasingly along your ankle bone, while slinging an arm around the back of your chair; essentially caging you in with his body. Coriolanus leans close to your ear, only to pur, “Professor, I think I'd rather have you tutor me in the art of lovemaking than in military political theory.”

“What?” You ask, taken aback by his smooth line.

Coriolanus’ hand began to caress your thigh as his breath tickled your ear. “You’re a very beautiful and intelligent woman; you've captured my attention and I’d like nothing more than to be with you.” His lips softly pressed against the sweet spot below your ear.

“Mr. Snow-” You begin to say, only for the platinum blonde to interrupt you with the request of, “Please, call me Coriolanus or Coryo.”

“Coriolanus, I'm your professor. It's not ethical for us to sleep together.” You told your student, struggling to get the words out of your mouth as his lush lips danced poetically up and down your neck.

“We're both consenting adults.” Coriolanus protests your rebuttal, his lips ghosting your skin. “There's nothing wrong with us giving into our desires.” He whispers against the hollow of your neck before nipping and biting at your collarbone.

“Coriolanus, we can't do this. I'd be jeopardizing my job.” You tell him around a wispy moan as Coriolanus’ hands start to massage and grope your breasts as he peppers kisses along your jawline.

Coriolanus’ head back and his icy eyes, blown black by lust, locked onto your gaze. “I'd never do anything to jeopardize your career, darling. I swear, I won't tell anyone about us; it'll stay a secret.”

Coriolanus was a very handsome man, a pretty boy with the looks of the ancient gods of the old myths, so it was hard to turn down such an Adonis throwing himself at you. But, you had to turn him down. It didn't matter that his kisses and touches were lighting a fire inside of you, it was too risky to do anything with him.

Shaking your head, you sigh, “I'm sorry, Coryo, but as long as you're my student we can't be together.”

Coriolanus was gutted at your rejection. He was so sure that you'd swoon over him. Girls always fell at his feet now that he was the heir to the Plinth fortune and had a very classic, sophisticated style that oozed old money. But you pushed him away in fear that an affair would ruin your career.

Fine, if your career's more important to you than he is then he'll let you have it. And he'll show you just what you're missing by turning down his proposition.

“Well, it looks like I don't need your tutoring after all, Professor Halvir.” Coriolanus coldly told you while untangling himself from you. “I'll leave you alone, darling, but mark my words you'll regret rejecting me.” He said before standing up and storming out of your office.

You felt horrible for rejecting him. And if things were different, you would've had no qualms with hooking up with him. But you can't risk your job; your reputation.

You can't help, but dread having to see Coriolanus during your next class. You're never going to be able to look at him the same way ever again after the way his kisses made you feel.

But the look in his baby blues when you rejected him will haunt your dreams. The platinum blonde man looked so broken, so betrayed by you pushing him away. You only hope that he doesn't dwell on the rejection; that it doesn't hinder his grades.

But unknown to you, the hots he has for you won't simply go away. And one day, many years down the road, you'll find yourself at a political fundraiser dinner party being thrown for Coriolanus as he embarks on a Senatorial campaign. But when he makes his next move, he'll make sure that his heart’s well locked away behind a brick wall.

Snow lands on top and one day he's sure he'll land on top of you. But right now you're the professor that he's obsessed with, but can't have.

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