#first post of the year yayyy | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sugugasm · 2 years ago

Text

#1 : SLUT CERTIFIED ! — eren yaeger

꒱ ➛ CHAPTER SYNOPSIS : eren’s first favor.

˚◞♡ who ?? : eren yaeger x black fem! reader

˚◞♡ word count : 8.2K ( i am so sorry )

˚◞♡ chapter warnings : minors DO NOT interact, mentions of female anatomy, fem! reader using she/her pronouns, somewhat bimbo reader ??? mentions of asshole connie, mentions of player! connie ( i’m sorry ), use of profanity, oral penetration, cunninlingus, body worship, fingering, pet names such as [ mama, baby, angel ] slow-paced smut, a little bit of a cliffhanger.

˚◞♡ author’s note : NUMBER ONE — i am so sorry for posting this so late. i ended up re-writing the entire thing many times but i have a good feeling ab this ver. BUT ANYWAY !!!! first chapter !!! yayyy !! i’m very exited to share this with you alllll <3 i appreciate the amount of support you’ve given me before this was released and i love u for it 🫶🏽 anyways, excuse any mistakes or typos !! i hope you enjoy. reblogs n interactions are deeply loved <33

the typical friday night lights of the city shined brightly through eren’s studio apartment. nothing but the sound of livid drivers behind their steering wheels and the occasional dog barking at whomever may pass by. not to mention you — his best friend ; sitting next to him with a burning blunt plied between your fingers as your eyes intensely gaze at the soothing window view.

although, you didn’t exactly look so soothed.

there was a look of a apprehension pervading your features, almost as if you were deep in thought. eren sets his jaded irises on you and the small smile that once stretched across his lips fades.

“uh, you good?”

your eyes trail over when you take heed to his question, w taking a breath before looking at him with hopeful eyes. usually, you didn’t find yourself having such a challenging time when asking eren anything, but as of right now, the next few sentences you say may or may not tarnish your friendship.

“i’m fine. i um.. i just don’t know how to really ask you this,” you confess. eren then turns his rested head towards you, eyes looking at you with scrutiny as he tries to piece together what exactly that little mind of yours was thinking.

“talk to me, what’s wrong? i do somethin’ again?” you rashly shake your head from side to side, grabbing his hands in yours and squeezing as you nervously laugh —

“you know your friend connie, right?”

the audible groan that leaves eren’s lips is priceless, and so was the look on his face, “you mean the annoying bald motherfucker from high school that won’t leave me alone? hm, the name doesn’t really ring a bell.”

well if that wasn’t obvious enough, yes, they knew each other. they’d been friends for a while now. you can recall first meeting connie during your junior year of high school ; eren introducing you at a house party your devious asses had no business being at. he was cute, and even a little funny, but you’d never really paid attention to him until a few months ago.

him now being in his twenties meant you got to see him grow to cover his body with ink — his arms and legs. and you most definitely couldn’t forget the amount of muscle he’d gained just over a year after graduating high school. point being, he was just your type. and you were his. that’s why it didn’t take very long for you two to begin talking. but of course, after a few dates and many, many occasions of giving him severe blue balls, you figured it was finally time to step it up a notch.

“well you know we’ve been talking for a while now..and we’ve been planning to go out of the city for a little vaycay and i was thinking that maybe it was time he and I could take our relationship to the next — “

“for him to fuck you and break up with you like he did that one girl last year? nah. not lettin’ you do that.” he interrupts you before you could even begin to finish, shaking his head from side to side as he focuses his attention back to the moving city outside the window.

you could say he was being harsh, but at the end of the day, eren knew him better than you did — regardless of being familiar with one another since the early age of fourteen. connie was a heartbreaker. a true player at heart.

that boy couldn’t keep a woman for longer than a month before tossing her to the side as if she was some accessory — many of those women being too good to for him to begin with.

women like you.

the women who were too kind for their own good. the women who never failed to put a smile on a saddened face with just a few simple words. you were the type of woman he’d easily break — and that was just something eren couldn’t bare to swallow. but alas, who was he to judge? he just wanted to see you happy — that was his one and only concern, and if this whole ordeal would succeed that goal, he has no problem doing whatever he can to get you there.

“i wasn’t asking for your permission. i just needed your help, but i guess it’s useless to ask now.” the look of lost hope on your face pulls at eren’s heartstrings, him almost immediately exhaling and rolling at eyes at the sight of your pleading yet condescending gaze.

“jesus, what do you want? advice? intel? a wing man—“

“i want you to teach me how to fuck.”

it took everything in him not to laugh because the more he held your gaze, the more he realized you were genuinely being serious. eren’s eyes nearly pop out of his skull. you stare, waiting for his response as he gives you an intrigued looked rather than a confused one, “i think you need to elaborate. that’s a crazy sentence to say.”

“y’know, like blowjo —“

“i know what sex is, yn.”

you and the word ‘fuck’ had never been been a thought in eren’s mind up until now, so to know he’d be the one seeing you bare for the first time was definitely…mind boggling. seriously, the closest eren has come to even seeing a glimpse of you would have to be when you went scuba diving in miami for your nineteenth birthday — and even then, you were still somewhat clothed.

“i know it’s weird and i completely get it if you aren’t comfortable with —“

“i mean..i don’t really mind teaching you. i’d rather you learn from me rather than a lame ass porno.”

that was a response you weren’t expecting. you’d made sure to prepare yourself for rejection when you came over, but eren had proved you wrong. he didn’t seem to be phased — a resting grin on his face whilst you fully comprehend his answer.

“wait — really?”

he nods, shrugging his broad shoulders, “yeah? it’s not like we like each other or somethin.’ just think of it as my favor to you.” eren motions his fingers for you to pass him the blunt, but you nearly drop it from your fingers as you toss your arms around his neck — embracing him tightly as you whisper a stream of ‘thank yous’ into his neck.

you feel eren’s palms trail up and down your spine, rubbing the small of your back. he laughs at your excitement, “what’s connie gonna’ think about all this, hm?” he questions — validly questions. of course he didn’t like the guy, but he still needed some source of clarity. his days of fucking someone else’s girl were long gone and he’d never step foot into that life ever again. it was too messy.

“he doesn’t know he’d be my first — well, second..besides you. plus, he said it himself : we’re not official! it’s not wrong to see other people,” you casually say this as if you hadn’t just admitted to connie openly voicing that he was playing you, but then again, if you didn’t see an issue, neither did eren.

“yeah, i bet he did say that.”

“oh don’t be like that. you’re such a hater — he is your friend after all,” you poke at his bicep teasingly, amused at the side eye he sends you. you knew eren and connie relationship wasn’t the absolute best — frenemies you’d like to call it. they had their good days, and their bad ones, but you knew, on the outside looking in, it was endless love for one another all around.

“he’s an acquaintance.”

your eyes roll and you huff, “whatever. when do you wanna do this? i leave for the trip in a few weeks. i wanna’ be as ready as possible before then.”

“well, i gotta’ meet up with jean and armin for poker tomorrow night, but after that i’m free if you —“

“great. we’ll start tomorrow. and poker? what are you, old men?”

“oh hush, you like to knit.”

you shove him and you both begin burst out in laughter. the rest of the night was spent doing what you and eren would normally do — watching movies, chatting amongst yourselves and every now and then, casually bickering like an old married couple over the silliest of things.

but these innocent gestures would soon hold a brand new meaning in such a short amount of time. neither of you realized the mistake you were about to make. the days of occasional i love you’s and holding hands out of comfort were long gone now.

saturday night at armin’s ; a night looked forward to by most —most meaning eren and eren only. there was no better feeling than getting together with his closest friends to trash talk, share a few glasses of rum, and catch up on whatever life had thrown at one another throughout the week.

but what he loved most watching the look of defeat on jean’s face when eren finally placed his last chips. it was a scene he’d pay for.

“you’re a fuckin’ cheater.”

eren laughs, stretching his arms across the table and pulling the pile of neatly stacked chips toward himself. he takes a moment to look over at armin who has his phone out recording jean’s rage all the while chuckling tauntingly under his breath.

“hating the player when you should be hating the game. that’s crazy.”

“fuck you,” jean mumbles. eren steers his attention away from the grown man’s mini tantrum when he hears an angry knock at armin’s door. heads turn in unison, “damn armin. forgot you had a girl comin’ over tonight or something?” the blonde rises from his seat, walking over to take a look at the peephole to reveal a standing connie in front of the door, “it’s just con, guys.” the door is pulled open, and at the sound of connie’s name eren could already feel himself tuning everyone out.

the sound of connie’s voice alone was enough to make eren want to gather his keys and satchel to make a run for it, but it was nowhere near the time to meet with you.

“its about time y’all answer the fuckin’ door. i’ve been knocking and waiting for like thirty minutes now,” this was a lie. poker always started at seven, and it was now thirty past nine.

“you’re late,” eren huffs. connie gives him the finger, scoffing as he makes his way over to the table, “where were you?” eren sounded like a stern parent scolding their child, but at the end of the day, there was something off about connie in this moment that was shifting his mood from solemn to easily irritable.

“damn, am i not allowed to oversleep every once in a while?” oversleep eren’s ass. the purple and blueish colored bruises beginning to taint connie’s neck said otherwise. he’d obviously been acting on that ‘seeing other people’ bullshit he fed you — and if eren was being honest, the lack of coverage showed just how little he respected you.

eren conjures a smug laugh, “oversleeping huh?” jean does the same, vividly noticing the markings as his eyes peer over to the exact spot as eren’s, “more like fucking. i see you and yn are becoming pretty close, huh ?” he asks.

“y-yeah, yeah. she’s great, man.”

“just great? you’ve been talking for like four or five months now,” armin chimes in, and thank the heavens above that he did. it was evident that the group as a collective were well aware of connie’s shitty behavior.

“i mean…it’s nothin’ too serious. she’s cute, for real. we’re just taking it slow.” nothing too serious? for christ’s sake, he was planning a getaway with you in a few weeks. it’s like all of this was just a little game of cat and mouse to him. you’d think connie being aware of how tightly knit you and eren were would give him some sort of change at heart, but nope — that was just connie for you.

eren could practically feel the blood pumping through his veins. he rolls his tongue around the inside of his cheek, tapping lightly onto the wooden table with a deep mug twisting his chiseled features.

“i think ima’ call it a night,” eren voices, rising from his reclined position slowly while avoiding eye contact, “i have some shit to do.” shit to do meaning heading towards your place earlier than he should be. he couldn’t stand to be around connie and his ignorance. it was depriving and overall time consuming.

“the fuck? i just got here, eren,” connie scoffs, but eren doesn’t stick around long enough to hear the bass in his voice rise to a T. the door slams behind him, eren now making his way out of the door and down the hall to head for his black mustang parked out front. the skin of his cheeks and the tips of his ears flushed pink with a crack of discomfort bubbling inside of him.

the moment he unlocked his car doors and hopped in, he didn’t know if the adrenaline was getting to him or just the sheer fact that he liked the taste of making connie angry, but that whole interaction just made him all more enthused to see you.

no matter how much you liked connie or how much you cared about a potential relationship with him, he couldn’t beat the fact that eren would easily treat and fuck you way better than he ever could — hypothetically speaking, of course.

and that’s why, the only thought on his mind was to make tonight a moment you’ll never forget.

with a day consisted of excruciatingly long lectures and excessive amounts of homework given by your professors, you could finally find yourself prancing down your apartment hallway, eager to enter your home to prepare for what the night had in store.

you fumble with the keys on your baby-pink lanyard, specially made for you and given to you by eren for your birthday one year. the sound of your living room television could be faintly heard resonating through the wood as you started to unlock your door. you furrow your brows since you know for a fact that you made sure to turn it off before you departed earlier this morning.

your hand twists at the nob, the fingers of your opposite hand clutching tightly onto your pepper spray, but to your surprise — you quickly feel a sense of relief travel through your body as you see none other than eren. his legs spread, arms behind his head as he lounges on your white couch which a bowl of half eaten ice cream resting on the coffee table before him.

to say he startled you would be an understatement, but the sound of your keys jangling did just about the same to him : his head almost immediately turning toward the door to face you.

“what are you doing here, ren? and how the fuck did you even get—“

“you gave me a key, remember?” he asks, pointing to his neatly hung set of keys on the coat hook beside the front door. as soon as you turn to look in that way, his lifeless lips start to smile and he begins to giggle at your confusion, “damn, about to pepper spray me and everything, huh?” he quips.

you simply plop down next to him, sinking into the warmth of the sofa as his arm gently moves to rest behind your head, “you’re the one who can’t send a damn text. it would’ve been nice to have a heads up, ren,” he smiles at your tone ; sounding just like his mother, carla, when she used to yell at him for being a sneak.

ah, what a time.

“i thought it was poker night. i didn’t think i’d see you until ten,” your inquiry was enough to make eren riled up all over again, but for your sake, he chooses to leave out the part where he nearly wanted to slap your potential partner across his face.

“i kept winning, so i left. it got boring.”

eren’s blatant lie didn’t seem to phase you. in fact, you seemed to have easily glossed over his sorry excuse of a response, and instead choosing to gush over the possibility of him seeing connie.

“was con there? did he say anything about me?” you giddily ask, a smile complimenting your dilated pupils with just the mention of his name. eren only sheepishly grins, “yeah, he was there alright. called you cute too.”

eren barely cracks a smile at this, seeing how effortlessly your face lit up at the sound of the bare minimum. poor, sweet, innocent yn — too blinded to realize the boy you spoke so highly of only used a simple sentence when speaking of you. it was sad almost, seeing you be so naïve. but then again, telling you wouldn’t make a difference — it would only start an argument.

“he’s so sweet. i think he gets nervous in front of you guys…y’know, when he talks about me.”

“…right.” eren decides to navigate the conversation elsewhere, “so..did you wanna’ get some food or something before we start or..”

“don’t be so awkward, eren,” you laugh. you squeeze his bicep consolingly, “i’m gonna’ go freshen up a bit and then we can get going. it’s been a long day.” you tread off toward your room, shutting the door behind you and leaving eren alone on your living room couch.

for some odd reason, eren found himself to be more nervous than he was when he first entered. he didn’t know if it was the mystery of it all or the simple fact that he would be seeing you naked for the first time, but his heart was damn near beating out of his chest.

the scuffling sounds coming from your bedroom only induces his anxious heart, eyes directing their attention toward howl’s moving castle playing quietly on the tv.

“eren! can you come in here for a minute?” he hears your soft voice call out from behind the door. eren blinks a few times, confused on why you hadn’t just come out yet, but the moment he opens the door to your room — he knows.

there you were, standing in the connected bathroom in front of the mirror, adjusting and shifting your waist length faux locs from one side to the other. your body was decorated in a pink, two piece lingerie set. he’s stunned to say the least, eyes tracing the outline of your figure — picking and observing the small tattoos sitting just above your ass and right below your left thigh.

“eren? you with me?” your question snaps him out of your forbidden trance. eren clears his throat, running a hand down his chest in a self-comforting manner. it takes everything in him to control the arousal forming in his pants. there was no denying it — you were fucking gorgeous, but this wasn’t a regular hookup and you weren’t just a regular girl.

you were his best friend and right now, the hard cock in his pants is thinking otherwise.

“y-yeah, i’m with you. i’m right here.” you don’t see the way his eyes look you up and down, nor do you see him sucking on his bottom lip while doing so. instead, your focus is on the inner thoughts in your head, pondering about if your choice of attire was overdone.

“is it too much? i saw it at the mall earlier today after class and i thought it would be fitting —“ he cuts you off before you could even dare finish that sentence.

“nah, you..,” he takes a moment, looking at you in awe as if he’d just seen an angel, “you look beautiful.” you don’t perceive the smoothness of his voice but it’s there. it’s so obviously there, and you’re so obviously breathtaking.

face bare, lips coated in a thin layer of lipgloss and smelling as if you’d just showered in roses — like said, breathtaking.

“i-im sorry. i can take it off if it makes you uncomfortable —“

“no.” that slips out faster than he intended, but he didn’t care. it got his point across simple enough. you laugh, turning to your left to finally come face to face with him, only to dig eren in a deeper hole than he was already in.

“well..i’m ready when you are,” you announce. seeming to be all around enthused about this, you take a few steps closer, inching forward to the point where you’re arms length away. eren still stands there, quiet with gentle eyes as he grips the top ledge of the doorframe. you hear his breathing become unsteady, almost as if he’d lost that smooth talking, serenading attitude he once carried.

he felt like the virgin here.

“are you nervous?” you ask, studying the way his eyes pierce while he stares at your lips, “we can stop before it starts.”

with he way he was feeling, a wise man would’ve called it all off, but eren…eren needed needed you. he needed to touch you, to feel you, to please you in some way — beyond the act of just giving you guidance.

he answers your question with a question, “are you?” you shake your head, rocking back and forth on the heels of your feet as you wait for his next statement.

but his next move surprises you.

without hesitation, you watch as eren towers over you, taking his thumb and index to lift your chin — letting you naturally meet his alluring gaze, “can i kiss you, yn?” the moment you begin to nod is the same exact moment when his lips brush against your own. the contact almost shocking the both of you as a small gasp leaves your mouth, and his stuttered hand grasps the side of your neck.

eren was kissing you. he was kissing you as if you’d easily break under his touch. the butterflies in your stomach begin to flip. by default, you close your eyes and fall into it — moving along and following his soft yet hungry pace.

it was funny. it was like you were kissing each other as if you’d been waiting to do so your entire lives. considering you’d always deemed eren as attractive and an overall somewhat decent man, the thought of him giving you butterflies had never occurred.

if anything, those same butterflies were present while you spent time with connie, but never ever have they fluttered like this. maybe it was the heat of the moment, or maybe it was just an effort to set the mood, but this felt like an eternity you’d never wish to end.

his hand was incredibly light against your neck, giving you a distinct chill as the one creeping down your waist sends an unfamiliar shiver elsewhere. as the kiss gradually intensifies, over the course of a few seconds, reaching its peak, he then sucks on your bottom lip. pulling and yanking on it like he was in dire need of more — which he was.

he’s groaning, he’s hard, and most importantly, he’s infatuated. your lips felt like heaven against his, so plush and so comforting. eren was so lost in you that he couldn’t even begin to fathom the consequences that may come.

“y-you can touch me some more,” you mumble in between breaths — and that was all he needed.

“where…tell me where, baby.”

baby — a word you thought you never hear coming out of eren’s mouth when referring to you. it didn’t make you contemplate much though, it was hard to think about anything at all once you felt his hands grip and mush at your backside. he fondles it in his palms, letting your skin mold into his hands.

“i more, ren. more please…”

he hears you, he hears you so clearly — and he wants more of you too, “what, hm? want me to touch you here?” you feel his hand sneak around toward your inner thigh, fingers tips grazing the area near your pussy. you let out an unexpected sigh of pleasure.

“an important part of intimacy is what makes you feel good. so tell me, what feels good to you, yn?” eren appeared to look and sound more confident than he felt.

“h-here. here feels good.” you gesture toward your pretty pink underwear that had been fighting to be taken off for the last five minutes. eren was just as ready as you were, waiting for the moment you were comfortable enough to allow him to please you like he was itching to.

“yeah, you like touching yourself there don’t you?”

“y-yes,”

“you want me to touch you there?”

there should be a world record for how quickly you whimper ‘yes’ under your breath. the same goes for how quickly eren scoops you from the floor, cupping his hands underneath the back of your thighs as he carries you in his arms toward your bed. eren lays you on your back, your spine hitting the fluffed sheets of your mattress. as much as he wanted you right then and there, the thought of your innocence comes back to mind.

this was your first time.

“we’ll take it slow, alright?” he asks, and when he doesn’t hear a response from you he becomes worried. the energy shifts from hot and hasty to nerve wracking and what the fuck am i doing, and it’s evident, “do you wanna’ stop? we can forget that shit in the bathroom ever happened, okay? i don’t mind—“

“no! no, it’s..it’s okay, ren. really, i’m just a bit nervous that’s all.”

you weren’t lying. you were more than comfortable with him being the one to do this. in truth, you were more turned on than you’ve ever been, but then again this was all so surreal. the boy you’ve called best friend your entire life was about to be the first to see you in such a personal way.

there were so many what ifs — too many to count on your own two hands. what if there was a possibility he gets uninterested mid-way through? what if he was judgmental of the way you looked? what if he lies about your anatomy just to spare you the embarrassment?

these were all the things you’d thought of, but these were also all of the things that eren would never in a million fucking years do.

“nervous? of me?”

“it’s just, you’re the only one who’s ever…seen down there and i don’t know if —“

“look at me.” his hands travel up and down your thighs, comforting and soothing your jitters as you fight the intense amount of eye contact he was throwing your way, “can you look at me, please?” eren’s treasuring voice allows you to relax a bit, your eyes meeting his.

“you’re an angel — an absolute angel. you have nothing to be ashamed of. especially in front of me, okay?” you nod, breath remaining steady after hearing his words of encouragement. you shoot him that sweet, signature smile, allowing him to wipe away the small tear that’d fallen down your cheek.

“you’re too pretty to be cryin’ like that. worrying over nothing. lemme’ make you feel better..”

you let your back fall back onto your bed once again, watching as eren lowers down onto his knees while coming face to face with your cunt, “spread your legs for me,” he kindly orders. eren has no problem helping you do so, lifting your squished thighs onto his shoulders while your ass hangs off of the bed.

he takes the hair tie around his wrist and gathers his hair back, pulling his strands into a low, loose bun to the back of his head. there were a few more pieces of small hairs that scattered across his hairline, making him look all the more handsome than he already did.

“ready?”

you nod.

“if there’s ever a time where you want me to stop, don’t hesitate to tell me.”

you wished you could’ve captured the look on his face on camera, cause it was definitely a sight to remember. you hadn’t seen his cheeks this red since he peed himself in front of his crush in the second grade.

“can i take these off?” these referring to your underwear. the same pair underwear that reveal a damp patch in the middle now that eren was really looking at them. once you voice a simple yes, he takes a second to admire you. running his fingers along the waistband, eyes roaming all over with no clue what they should look at first. you were too pretty — too lovely for him to even begin comprehending.

eren hears you lightly groan, and he begins to pry your underwear off, but he does this slowly — so slowly that it’s almost unbearable for you. he was moving as if you were a brittle creature in danger of being easily corrupted ; which you were, and that’s when he felt the need to pinch himself. seeing your hips lurch around in an effort to get him to move faster was one of the cutest things eren’s ever laid his eyes on.

there was no way he was in this position right now. kneeled in front of you with your bare cunt staring back at him, your folds sleek with your own liquid bliss dripping from them like honey on a comb. to put it short, you looked good enough to eat — and that’s exactly what eren was going to do : devour you like you were the last meal he’d ever be able to taste.

he kisses your inner thighs, the intention of leaving marks becoming prevalent as he makes his way down toward your pussy, “you ever play with yourself?” eren was so close — close enough for you to be able to feel his breath on your clit, tickling you.

“s-sometimes,” you couldn’t look at him. not when he’s on his knees and touching you like this. he hadn’t even begun the action and you were already losing hope in the idea of you being able to keep your composure.

“ever had someone do it for you?”

with unsteady breaths leaving your lips, you choose to answer honestly, “no.” he chuckles, taking his thumb and unexpectedly grazing it over your clit. you nearly jolt at the feeling. given you’ve been the only one with the access down there, it felt much different feeling someone else’s hand.

“i can tell. look at how responsive you are, mama.” he sounded fascinated, flicking you gently just to get you used to the sensation. you felt so sensitive, so fragile — and that wouldn’t even be the be the end of it, “and this pussy’s so fuckin’ wet..”

“erenn… wanna — i wanna’ feel more!”

“what, hm? more what?” he keeps at the slow pace of his thumb, not stopping or increasing until he hears your next few words fill his ears and shoot straight to his pants.

“your mouth..wanna’ feel your mouth, ren. please?” you say this as if he didn’t look like he was sitting on the edge of his seat just waiting for you to grant him the access. it doesn’t take any further words for eren to latch his mouth onto your pussy slowly. he makes an introduction with small pecks to your visibly puffy clit, making sure to pay attention to the way your body reacted to the simple touch.

he watches your belly rise up and down from the snag in your pattern of breath. once he sees you begin to grow comfortable, he makes the jump to lay his tongue flat against your pussy, licking a long stripe against your core and letting the sticky salvia from his mouth lubricate you.

“ooh – fuck!” you whimper, quickly covering your mouth once realizing what’d slipped out. eren sees this, reaching his hand out for you to grab before taking his mouth off of you for a split second.

“don’t do that shit. i wanna’ hear you.”

he resumes, pressing the bridge of his nose against your clit and licking your folds to create a sort of double penetration. you feel the texture of his tongue tickling your labia, applying minimum pressure to ensure a pleasurable stream of delight traveling through your belly, “feels s-so good. you’re so fucking good at tha – nnn!” when eren starts to feel himself losing his breath, he comes up for air, just to see you now resting on your elbows and looking down at him with quizzical eyes. he’d never seen you look so happy.

there was sweat beaming from your forehead and a bit of it forming on your upper lip, the lips that which eren was fighting the urge to kiss. your bra strap had slipped down a bit, now resting on your upper arm and exposing a bit of your nipple that slipped from the cup.

“w-why’d you stop?” you ask, hyperventilating. eren rests his head against the inner flesh of your thigh, looking as dazed as ever.

“i-im sorry, you just look…so pretty.”

this wasn’t out of the norm. eren always made it a goal to uplift you whenever he could, but there was something about the deliverance of that sentence that sent your mind into a never-ending frenzy. it was hard to believe that this was anything more than just a simple gesture to really get himself into character with the heart shaped desire he carried in his eyes.

“you look pretty too,” the echo in your head must’ve been deceiving you. you’d hoped to keep that one to yourself but the look on his face told you that he’d definitely heard you say that out loud.

“yeah? bet you wonder what else i look pretty doin’ don’t you?”

a smug grin appears on his lips, but the teasing remark did no justice for how he truly felt. instead, he just decides to show you ; placing his mouth back into your pussy with little to no remorse with his tongue this time. your hands magically find their way to his hair, running your nails through his scalp as you balance your upper body with one elbow. eren groans into you, the sound reverberating through your core and shaking you a bit.

at one point, his fingers brush past your hole, earning a loud unexpected moan from you. this shocks him, almost as much as it shocks you. you didn’t know why, but there was a sense of urgency pumping through your veins. you wanted more — more than what he was already giving you after you’d asked the first time.

“oh? you want a finger, don’t you?”

“mmfuck – yes! yes, just, do something eren, please!” you beg. your back arches from the sheets, fists bawling with anticipation. eren stands onto his feet and finds a seat on the bed. his back now rests against the headboard, eren’s chest heaving as he motions his index and middle finger in a ‘come here’ motion.

you hesitate at first, not sure exactly where he wants you until he’s pulling you into the space between his thighs. you instantly feel the warmth as you collide with his tank top covered chest. he was so much larger than you — and well, that’s the benefit of having a best friend that stood tall at a whopping 6’3.

“lemme’ see that pussy,” eren orders and you oblige quickly, parting your thighs for him once again while his chin sits in the crook of your neck, “isn’t she pretty, look at her..” you feel his hand grasping on your jaw softly, directing your focus to the soppy, wet cunt between your legs.

you were still so wet. wet enough to feel your essence dripping down your crack and onto your bed. you were messy but you wanted to be messier — you wanted to feel messier.

and he reads your thoughts before you even have to say a damn thing.

“you want me to play with you, hm? teach you how to take fingers before takin’ dick, is that right?”

“ren, just do something –“

“answer me, baby. don’t be shy. this is about you and what you want. so why don’t you just tell me what it is you want from me?” the room felt hot, and the air felt thick. the only contact between you both being your back against eren’s chest and his hand casually caressing your tummy, “p-put them in. god – just put them the fuck in,” you whine. eren’s chest fumbled with a laugh and he gives the side of your forehead a quick kiss.

“there she is.”

goosebumps pattern your chestnut skin when you finally feel his hand inching toward your pussy. you carefully watch, mouth held agape and your eyes batting shut the moment his fingers move in a counterclockwise motion against your agitated clit.

“gotta’ prep you some more, okay? i don’t wanna’ hurt you.” oh, right, pain. you’d been so blindsided by the pleasure that you’d forgotten that this in fact was not the simplest of processes.

eren keeps rubbing your clit, his eyes piercing into the side of your skull as he does this. you take a second to observe the veins that decorated his forearms. blue and greenish lines hiking from his wrist to his inner elbow. you’d always thought he had the prettiest hands. so neatly manicured and topped with a thick coat of clear polish — a pink color if you’d volunteer to paint them for him.

you don’t know why, but all of this made you crave him — badly. you turn your head, wandering eyes finding his. you stare at him, then his lips, then him again. he looked so kissable.

you just had to do it.

leaning in, you take in his musky scent and it lures you in closer. so close to where you’re practically poking your lips out to get him to kiss you back — and he does. for the second time tonight, your heart bursts with excitement feeling his lips on yours. you place your hands on his thighs, grinding along with his fingers, “i think i’m wet enough,” you mumble. he looks down, seeing that — you were indeed wet enough. your slick covered the majority of his fingers and your pulsing pussy felt like it was just about ready to give up on its orgasm.

“i think so too,” he pauses the motion, hovering his middle finger over your hole, and begins to softly lubricate the area with your own mess, “it’ll be uncomfortable at first. body isn’t used to being stretched, y’know?” eren pauses, lips coming close to your ear as he whispers, “but i’ll break you in…and i’ll do it so good…and you’re gonna’ tell me just how good it feels, okay?”

that sentence alone got you wetter, and eren feels this — literally. he kisses your temple over and over as he slowly begins to push his finger inside of you, “don’t look away, you’ll miss how good you’re doing..” you clench onto his opposite arm ; the one that wasn’t busy giving you a bit of discomfort, and you bite down on your bottom lip.

it was one finger, and you’d been used to that. you’d done it to yourself maybe once or twice, but you’ve never gotten any sort of pleasure out of doing so. but now, it felt so different — the slow in and out, in and out, pace. his finger pushing and gliding along your snugged walls while he licks and nips at your neck and ear. it felt amazing.

“f-fuck eren, so…so good,” your breathless chest rises and falls, nipples as hard as they’ve ever been — needing to be touched. your hand slowly creeps up to touch one of your needy tits, gripping and mounding it in your hand slowly while pulling your nipples between your fingers.

he’s watching you — studying you, actually. this wasn’t just a learning experience for you, but for him as well. eren was learning exactly how to navigate your body. he knew which itches to scratch and what barriers you’d overcome. he got to see you in your purest form — carefree and exhilarated.

“y’know…the human body is a temple, yn,” eren begins, resting his head on your shoulder as he wraps his other arm across your chest, pulling you in tightly, “only the worthiest of men should be able to touch you like this.” you didn’t know where he was going with this, and you didn’t know why it was giving you the feeling it was, but you wouldn’t stop it even if you had the option to. his finger felt too good. you wanted — no, you needed another.

“so, what makes me so worthy, baby?”

“b-because i trust you.”

you feel the pressure of another finger slowly making its move to inch it’s way in — eren holding back until you give him the green light to even try, “yeah? you trust me to do this too?” he asks, pushing the second finger past your barricade as gently as he could. he didn’t lie, the stinging discomfort was nothing to mess with — but you wanted it.

“sh-shit eren!

you wanted to feel him stuff you full.

you clench your eyes shut, face scrunching up as you whine a bit at the temporary pain, “you’re doing good, yn. you’re bein’ such a good girl..”

that opened you up more. able to get better access to you, eren’s fingers moving together as one eventually became pleasurable. the uncomfortable feeling had subsided and somehow turned into an eye rolling, spine twisting pressure against your core. his fingers were slowly, but surely, jabbing into your pussy, a small creamy noise following behind his movements as the wetness of you makes it easier for him to get around.

“o-ooh! fuuuck, eren…right there –” you could barely maintain pulling a full sentence from your brain, but luckily for you, you didn’t need to say a word. eren could feel every little thought or emotion through your pussy. the way your walls naturally open up for him, giving him the opportunity to find that perfect spot ; it was like you were made for this — made for him.

“she’s so needy – thinkin’ maybe i should move a little faster, don't you? all i wanna’ do is make you cum, mama.” he says this as if it’s a promise — and to be honest, he was pretty close to achieving that promise. the sound of your whines and the squirms of your hips were enough to tell him to pick up speed.

so that's exactly what he does.

eren plunges his fingers in and out of you, poking at what he was certain was your g-spot — every time he’d hit it with his fingertips, there was another whimper leaving your mouth, “i feel that pussy tightin’ up, you wanna’ cum, don’t you?” tauntingly, he asks this as if you weren’t already on the brink of tears, “don’t fight yourself. let it go.”

now eren’s hand is moving rapidly, automatically making your legs spread further open. now, he was really there — and so were you. the knot in your stomach that's been there this whole time was starting to unravel. you rest your head firmly against his shoulder, “rennn – feels so fuckin’ good! don’t stop, please don’t stop!”

“i won’t, baby. i’m right here – i feel you, just let me have it.” his encouragement works and he reels you in. you feel your stomach contracting as your heart starts to race. eren sits you up straight, keeping your weakened body from falling over while he keeps working your pussy.

“eren, eren, eren! f-fuuck yess!” you shout and his fingers curl upwards creating a distinct squelching sound and you claw onto whatever you could find — that being the same arm between your legs.

“cum for me. cum for me, come on,” out of nowhere, you release — and all over his hand, at that. your eyes are wandering, seeing blank spots trickling the ceiling as you cum on both eren’s fingers and your mattress, “atta’ fuckin’ girl..”

he pumps you some more before slowly pulling his fingers out, leaving a stringed trail of your cum to follow them. there was enough on him for both he, and you to get a little taste — but he needed to know you were okay first.

you were reclined against his chest still, eyes closed with your exhales being rather hoarse. eren wraps both arms around you, hugging you from behind as he kisses the top of your scalp repeatedly, “m’ so proud of you, yn. you did great – so, fuckin’ great.”

your head is still in a slight daze, and although your vision had come back, you hadn’t yet gained the full consciousness to realize what the hell just happened.

eren just fingered you.

eren just made you cum.

eren just mind fucked you.

there were so many things to think about, so many moments to cherish, but most importantly — there were so many doubts running through your mind. you walked into your apartment today under the impression that this would just be a piece of cake : he comes in, he teaches you, he leaves — that’s it. so why did you want to remain snuggled into his arms? why did you want him to kiss you to sleep after coming down from that life changing orgasm?

why did you want…eren?

“you okay? i wasn’t too rough was i? anything hurt?” he must’ve sensed your uncertainty. you quickly rise a bit, turning over your shoulder only to see him with worried eyes.

“no, no. you were perfect,” you go to lift your hand up to side of his face but you stop before completing that thought, “but, i think we need to make some rules.” his already flattened expression got even flatter. eren could feel his heart dropping to his stomach at the thought of even making you uncomfortable in the slightest bit. that was the last thing he’d ever want to do.

“r-rules?”

you nod, now feeling the need to sit directly in front of him, still in between his legs. you hold his hands in yours, looking at him with sympathy, “you did nothing wrong, ren. i just think we should set some boundaries?”

“oh. so..uh, what’d you have in mind?”

you sit there for a moment, reminiscing back to a few moments ago when you were shaking in his comforting grasp, “well, maybe we should hold off on the kissing? i just…i’m with connie and i don’t think it’s appropriate to kiss you while —“

“got it.”

you’re left silent. eren had a habit of cutting you off, but as of right now, he seemed rather passive than talkative. the guy couldn’t even make eye contact with you. he only sits, eyes fixed on any other object in sight but you.

“eren —“

“it’s okay, really. i understand. no kissing, anything else you can think of that you might wanna’ add?” eren held a forced grin. there was no need to elucidate. he’d already caught on to what you were throwing down. you wanted him to forget about it. you wanted him to pretend like the brief moment of his lips on yours didn’t mean anything. he knows you’re confused, and so was he, but to deny the spark between you both in that moment would be ludicrous.

“well i…i haven’t really thought about anything else yet, but i’ll let you know when i do,” you stare into eren’s empty eyes for a few more seconds before he abruptly gets up and heads toward your bathroom. you watch as he snags a towel from your linen cabinet and runs it under the warm sink water.

he wrings it out, now bringing the towel over toward you ; who still sits up straight while watching him do all of this. he sits next to you, adjusting the towel in his palm, “open your legs, please.”

you were ineffable. completely silent, but slowly parting your thighs to allow him to gently wipe away the mess that streamed between them. you don’t say anything, and neither does he, but you both secretly cherish the feeling of his hands roaming your body.

a bit of time passes, and you fall asleep. you didn’t know how, but you’d ended up on the couch in eren’s arms — snuggled in close with your kuromi plushie between your arms as you dreamt of anything besides the events that took place tonight.

you drifted off easily, eren on the other hand, couldn’t spare to shut his eyes. there were too many questions without answers running through his mind for him to even think about sleeping at all.

in all of his years of knowing you, he’d never thought about you as anything more than a companion, a partner in crime, a best friend — but tonight revealed that narrative to be false. eren liked the feeling of your body against his. he liked to be able to navigate which spots made you weak in the knees.

he liked that he would be your firsts.

but to openly say those words aloud is forbidden. you were right, you were somewhat with connie. it wasn’t eren’s place to feel any type of way about how you felt.

you asked him to help you out, not fall for you.

so that’s exactly what he’d do. he’d give you what you want. he’d play the role until his help is unwanted, and although it’d ache him, that ache would be nothing compared to the ache of losing you as a whole.

eren takes a moment to look at your somnolent face, finding himself with the same tingly feeling he’d had when he kissed you earlier. his eyes bat as he finds himself in a daze, reaching his hand up to touch the side of your face, eren’s cracked voice conjuring up one last sentence before returning his focus to the tv.

“you’re gonna’ be the death of me, yn..”

©️ SATORUBI 2023 please do not copy, or repost as your own <33

tags : @sully-stick-together @lalalucidity

#OMG OMG KMG FIRST CHAP #posting this and immediately logging off because i’m scared #k bye i love u i hope u enjoy #please god i hope you enjoy #eren smut #eren x black reader #eren x reader #eren x fem!reader #eren yeager x reader #snk smut #snk eren

2K notes · View notes

m1ckeyb3rry · 5 months ago

Note

hii!! First of all ur theme is so aesthetically pleasing and I love all the nagi. I like binge read all of your event works and *chefs kiss*. Could I request a piece for karasu with the theme of like academic rivals/classmates? No worries if not, hoping ur doing well and taking care of urself!

On an unrelated note I saw that post about rude comments and im so sorry that’s happening to you! I honestly don’t know what drives ppl to bother leaving nasty comments esp when it’s not like they’re being forced to read anything T-T Hoping to send you a bit of love to counter those trolls!

── FIVE WAYS TO KILL A CROW

Synopsis: Crows are clingy birds, and Tabito Karasu’s feelings are hurt easier than you realize. (part two here!) (part three here!)

Event Masterlist

Pairing: Karasu x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 9.1k

Content Warnings: academic rivals to lovers, karasu is an asshole, reader is also an asshole, jealous karasu 😍, hiori randomly pulls up at one point for some reason??, yukimiya requests to follow one (1) person and accidentally causes the most dramatic pseudo breakup ever

A/N: anon i used to pray for times like these 😭😩 LMAOAO karasu is my fav (behind nagi ofc) but i’ve never gotten around to writing him so getting this request made me SO excited HAHA. i haven’t done anything rivals/enemies to lovers before so fingers crossed this doesn’t feel too awkward or unrealistic or rushed anything!! and yayyy i love my little nagi theme (and also nagi in general) i’m glad you like it too!! and my writing too, you’re so sweet 🥹 there will always be jerks unfortunately but lovely people like you make it all worth it 💖 thank you again and i hope this is kind of what you were looking for 🫶🏻

Additional: part of my 500 follower event! see the event description and rules to make a request of your own.

ONE: POISON IT

You could hardly contain your smile as you sauntered up to Tabito Karasu’s desk, your exam held behind your back. He was sitting by himself — his seat partner was sick this week, from what you had heard, so he had taken the chance to spread out his things and stretch his legs. When he noticed you, he raised his eyebrows, mouth tugging into a frown at your amusement.

“What?” he said. You brandished the paper in front of you, irises sparkling as you leaned over to rest your forearms on the desk.

“I got full marks on the last Chemistry exam,” you said. Karasu made a face at you, snatching the test from your hands and scrunching his face up as he inspected it.

“Seriously?” he said.

“Seriously,” you said. “What did you get?”

He crossed his arms and looked away. “Not telling.”

“You definitely failed!” you said in delight, taking back the exam and laughing at him. “How embarrassing. You failed the easiest test of the year, and yet you consider Chemistry to be one of your best subjects? I can’t wait to see how badly you do during finals week.”

“I did not fail,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I got a ninety-eight.”

“Ninety-eight! That’s even worse than outright failure,” you said. “You were so close to perfection, and yet in the end, you fell short. It must sting for things to work out like that.”

“Yes, I’m positively wounded,” he said dryly before batting his eyelashes at you. From anyone else, the rapid switch in demeanor would’ve left you reeling, but the shifting mood was to be expected from him. “Will you give me a kiss and make it better?”

You rolled up your test and smacked him on the head with it. “No.”

“Anyways, my overall grade in the class is still higher than yours, because rankings were updated today and I’m still number one, so I’m not sure what cause you have to be boasting,” he said.

“Hm, but did you notice who’s number one in Modern Literature?” you said, pulling out your phone and opening the school’s app, which listed each class’s rankings in every subject. “Yup, that’s right, me.”

“Good job, Y/N!” he said, clapping mockingly. “Shall we have a party? It’s a big occasion — the mediocre number two has finally done something of such note that she’s number one for the first time in her life.”

“I’ve been number one plenty of other times!” you snapped. “For your information, I’ve been first in the class in mathematics and history every year since middle school, so who are you to be acting like this is a first? If anyone’s mediocre, it’s you!”

He raised his hands in the air innocently, his trademark smirk gracing his features once more now that he had succeeded in irritating you, as was his typical goal.

“Alright, alright, no need to be upset,” he said. “It’s not good for you. Clouds your judgment.”

“In what way?” you said.

“I mean, somehow, you got the two of us confused,” he said. “And we’re nothing alike.”

“I did no such thing,” you said.

“Well, I seem to recall you calling me mediocre, but between the two of us, the subpar one is obviously you,” he said, flicking your forehead. You slapped his hand away.

“You — the bell is going to ring, so I’m going to go back to my seat, but just so you know, you’re way more mediocre than me, Mr. Two-Percent-Short!” you said.

“Stellar comeback!” he called out. “My ego is bruised beyond healing!”

“Good!” you called back, ignoring the sarcasm. “Maybe it’ll return to a more normal size. Your head has grown too big, it’s almost as ridiculous as that hair of yours!”

“Leave the hair alone!”

During your free period, you decided to go to the library for some peace and quiet to work on your homework and find some of the sources you needed for your next research project. For belonging to a high school, the library was surprisingly extensive, and you had managed to find relevant information for every other project you had ever done in it, so you had high hopes. Unfortunately, it seemed this latest assignment was more obscure than anything you had completed before, so on your second lap of the shelves where the books, if they existed, would be located, you resigned yourself to giving up.

Just then, a volume caught your eye. The cover was shiny and pristine, the spine still unbent with newness. Crouching, you pulled it out, and when you saw the title emblazoned across the cover in bright yellow lettering, you began to laugh, making a beeline to the checkout counter with it tucked under your arm.

“Hey, Y/N! How was your morning?” your best friend said as you set your things down next to her in the cafeteria. You hummed in agreement, searching the room for a familiar head of dark hair. “You good? Looking for someone? Let me guess: your secret boyfriend that you’re keeping from the rest of us.”

“Yeah, I’m looking for Karasu,” you said before the rest of her words registered. “No!”

“You’re finally coming out and saying it?” she said, holding her hands to her heart and pretending to swoon. “I’ve been waiting for you to confess.”

“He’s not my secret boyfriend that I’m keeping from everyone, I’m just looking for him!” you said.

“Could’ve fooled me,” she said. “What do you need him for, anyways?”

“I got a book for him in the library,” you said.

“Right, and this is the guy you hate? Your ‘mortal enemy’ or whatever?” she checked.

“Yes,” you said.

“But you…got a book for him from the library, and now you’re looking for him so that you can give it to him?” she said. You scoffed.

“When you put it like that, it sounds different than it really is,” you said. “Trust me, this isn’t a nice gesture or anything. You can consider it revenge.”

“When are you going to get over this stupid rivalry?” she said. “He’s not even that bad, you know.”

“Not even that bad? Not even that bad? Are we talking about the same Karasu here? I’m referring to Tabito, not his older sister,” you said.

“Ah, I think so? He’s a nice guy,” she said.

“He is the spawn of the devil! And he’s the one who started it, so I’ll stop hating him once he apologizes and means it,” you said.

“Do you think he even remembers that?” she said. “It was in middle school.”

You glared at her. “I remember it. If he doesn’t, well, that’s just more of a reason for me to dislike him on principle.”

“Okay, okay, whatever you say,” she said. “Sorry for complimenting him. He’s awful and rude and mean. I think he’s sitting outside with some of his soccer friends, if you still want to find him.”

“Thank you!” you said, instantly forgetting that you were upset with her for taking Karasu’s side instead of yours. “Watch my stuff, okay? I’ll be right back.”

“See you soon,” she said. “Have fun. Actually, maybe it’s more realistic for me to just tell you not do anything that’ll get you expelled.”

You waved her off as you marched out to the courtyard where Karasu and his friends were lounging, their chairs positioned in the shade so that they did not overheat while they ate. None of them noticed you approaching until you were tapping Karasu on the shoulder and smiling at him sweetly.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” he said, sounding oddly flustered. One of his friends snorted, and more than a few chuckled, but you ignored all of them in favor of setting your bag on the armrest of Karasu’s chair.

“Hi, Karasu. I was in the library earlier and I saw this book that reminded me of you, so I took the liberty of checking it out,” you said.

“Oh,” he said. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“You’re so considerate, Y/N!” one of his friends said.

“We’re all so jealous of Karasu here,” another friend, the one who you believed had snorted, said. “You’re way too pretty for him.”

“Shut up,” Karasu said, sticking up his middle finger at his friend, though none of the group paid him much mind. In fact, it seemed to egg them on more, as they continued to hurl jabs at Karasu while simultaneously incessantly complimenting you.

You didn’t respond to any of them, instead pulling out the book and handing it to Karasu, interlacing your fingers and waiting for his reaction. At first he seemed confused, and then dismay dawned upon his features as he realized what he was holding in his hands: a copy of Chemistry for Dummies.

“What the fuck?” he said. You patted him on the shoulder.

“It’s only suitable,” you said. Suddenly, his expression cleared, and he beamed at you, which caused unease to brew in your stomach. You knew for a fact that he was about to say something infuriating, and you mentally prepared yourself to respond.

“What a roundabout way of telling me you need tutoring! Of course, I’m happy to help you anytime you want,” he said, tilting back in his chair so that he could cross his arms over his chest arrogantly.

“Why would I want tutoring from someone who does worse than me in the class?” you shot back, crossing your own arms in retaliation.

One of his friends whistled. “She got you there, Tabito.”

“Enough out of you,” Karasu said through gritted teeth. His friend winked at you and mouthed ‘nice one.’

“Look, man, all I’m saying is that if you want to ask out such a beautiful girl, you’ve gotta have a little more finesse than that!” he said.

“He can have all the finesse in the world, but I’d still say no,” you said. His friends hollered with raucous laughter, which caused Karasu’s face to turn red, but you only pressed the book into his hands. “It’s due in two weeks. That should be long enough, right? Make sure you return it on time, please, I don’t want late fines.“

“I hope you go into debt because of this stupid book,” he said.

“Aww,” you cooed. “You’ll be the one paying it off, so it doesn’t matter to me. See you around, Karasu — or, hopefully not.”

TWO: SHOOT IT

You and Karasu had met in middle school. The two of you had been assigned to work on a presentation together, and he had told you during your first meeting that because you were a dunce, you should just listen to him and do whatever he said. Ever since that day, you had done everything you could to show him how much better than him you were; for his part, he found great joy in getting on your nerves and so took part in every argument with pleasure.

You had long ago proved his middle school self wrong, by anyone’s standards, but at this point it was a habit for you to hate Tabito Karasu as well as a habit for him to hate you back. And of course, habits were hard to form but harder to break, so you would probably continue in that manner until the day you graduated and left him behind for good.

It was just the two of you who did not get along. Your friends were cordial with him and his ilk, and you did not really mind his little group all that much, crude though they sometimes were. After all, it was just in the manner of teenage boys, and when they were not taking advantage of your presence to make fun of Karasu, they were actually a pretty agreeable sort.

In fact, your friend groups tended to coexist most of the time, even having lunch together every now and again — though they were always careful to ensure that you and Karasu were kept entirely separate, or else you both were guaranteed to ruin the cheerful camaraderie with your sharp tongues and quick tempers. The measures they took were admirable, but unfortunately, they were not always enough. After all, what were precautions when compared with inevitabilities?

“Oh my god!” you squealed. “Guys! Oh my god, oh my god, I can’t believe this is happening?”

“Can’t believe what’s happening?” your best friend said, speaking for everyone at the table. They were all tuned in to you now, wondering what the big news might be that would bring about such a reaction from you, given how put-together you tended to be.

“Do you remember that one model I happened to meet while I was out last weekend? Kenyu Yukimiya? He just requested to follow me on social media!” you said.

“No way!” your best friend said.

“Way!” you said. The only warning you got was an arm pressing against your back, and then your phone was abruptly snatched from your hands. You gasped, spinning in your seat and scowling when you realized that the culprit was none other than that scavenging crow, Tabito Karasu.

“What the hell? He’s average at best, why are you so excited?” he said, scrolling through Yukimiya’s profile, his eyes narrowed critically. “Y/N, don’t you have any standards?”

“You’re probably the only person in the entire country who doesn’t find him gorgeous,” you said, exhaling dreamily as you took your phone back from him and stared at the artful manner Yukimiya was posing in for his profile photo. “He was even better looking in person. And sonice, too! They don’t make men like that often.”

Karasu frowned and swiped at your phone again. You held it out of his reach, reaching across the bench to press your foot against his chest, effectively holding him back from further attempts at thievery.

“Let me look at him again!” he said.

“Um, no,” you said. “I don’t need you making more fun of him. I know you’re jealous, but expressing it like this only makes you uglier, just so you know.”

“Looks like they’re back at it again,” one of your friends said, massaging her temples.

“Yup,” one of Karasu’s teammates said.

“Ugly? Ugly? You’re calling me ugly? Have you looked in a mirror recently? Also, get your gross shoe off of my shirt!” Karasu said.

“I have looked in a mirror recently, actually, and incidentally I’ve also been keeping an eye on my follow requests. Guess what? I’m obviously good looking, since a legitimate model wants to follow me! How many celebrities request to follow you, huh? I bet the answer is zero!” you said, though you did do him the favor of swinging your leg back, allowing him to brush himself off in disdain.

“Lots of soccer players want to follow me,” he said. “I’m quite good, you know.”

“That doesn’t count,” you said. “It has nothing to do with how you look. They’d request to follow you no matter how hideous and poorly styled you and your hair are.”

“Are they seriously arguing about which of them is worse looking?” Karasu’s teammate said.

“I suppose so,” your friend said. “They’re both really hot, though, so I don’t know what the big deal is…”

“Geez, they’ll take any excuse to go at it, huh?” Karasu’s teammate said.

“Pretty much,” your friend said.

“Guess all of that tension has to go somewhere,” his teammate said.

“Exactly,” your friend said, shaking her head as she finished up her lunch.

“That model probably only works for horror magazines!” Karasu said. “It barely even counts!”

“He was in Vogue Japan,” you said smugly. “Look it up, stupid.”

“So what?” he said.

“So he’s handsome,” you said. “Like I said, it’s okay if you’re envious of him, as long as you accept it instead of doing this whole weird denial thing. I don’t blame you for it — in fact, I thought you would be. You don’t have much going for you overall, do you? In all honesty, it’s only natural for you to feel like this when faced with what you lack.”

Karasu’s eyes widened, and then he stood abruptly, picking up his bag with one arm and haphazardly pulling it onto his back. “Goodbye.”

“Bye,” you said, not really caring one way or another what he did with himself. Actually, you would prefer it if he wasn’t there, interrupting your meal and your daydreaming about your impending romance with Kenyu Yukimiya.

“Wow, Y/N,” your best friend said once Karasu was gone. “You’re kind of dumb, you know that?”

“What are you talking about?” you said.

“It’s not her fault,” another one of Karasu’s teammates said. “He’s not much better.”

“Huh?” you said.

“Never mind,” your best friend said, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I have a migraine now.”

“Want some ibuprofen?” Karasu’s teammate said. She accepted it gratefully, and nothing more was said on the subject. The rest of lunch passed in a peaceful manner, though strangely, Karasu did not return.

It should’ve made you happy. You wondered, then, why it felt so odd without him there, like there was a gaping maw sitting in the place that should’ve been occupied by him.

THREE: DROWN IT

Ever since the day that Yukimiya had requested to follow you, you and Karasu hadn’t spoken. He refused to make eye contact with you in the few classes the two of you had together, keeping his gaze lowered to his work and his shoulders hunched away from you. You didn’t even try to talk to him; something told you that it would not be well-received, and you weren’t anywhere near confrontational enough to bring up his odd behavior, so the time without him dragged on and on, seemingly without end.

At first, you were happy, and you told your friends as much. It was a much-needed break from the constant aggravation he brought you, and you found your classes without your competition to be almost boring in their simplicity.

“The more you say you’re happy that you and Karasu aren’t talking, the less it sounds believable,” your best friend said, taking a sip from her juice box.

“Believe it! This is what I’ve been wanting since middle school,” you said.

“Is it?” she said. “It sounds like you’re kind of upset.”

“Am not!” you said. She shrugged.

“Sure,” she said, drawing out the word. “Definitely not.”

“Why would I be upset?” you said.

“You tell me,” she said.

“I’m telling you that I’m not upset. You’re the one with the theory, so give me some evidence to substantiate it,” you said.

“Fine,” she said. “You talk about him all of the time, even when you guys are getting along — or, at least, your twisted little version of being friendly, which isn’t friendly by anyone else’s standards but it seems to work for you two, so I won’t comment further. You keep telling us that you’re so delighted he’s leaving you alone, but you do this thing with your face when you say it that makes it super obvious you’re not. It’s not the kind of behavior you’d display when discussing someone you hate as much as you claim to hate him. Finally, there’s a reason half the school thinks you guys are dating, and it’s not just the obvious aesthetic appeal of that match.”

“What? I thought you were just trying to bother me when you brought that up!” you said. She shook her head.

“No, it’s a common misconception. It’s why no one’s ever asked you out. They all think you’re already taken. Actually, the other day, a guy asked me if I thought he might have a chance with you now that you and Karasu had broken up,” she said.

“What’d you say?” you said, half in horror, half in fascination.

“I told him probably not, and that you and Karasu hadn’t broken up, because you were never together in the first place,” she said.

“Oh, okay,” you said.

“Should I have said something else?” she said. You shook your head.

“No,” you said. “What else would you have said?”

“Dunno,” she said. “Look, you need to cheer up. I’m sure that if you just try to talk to him, things will go back to normal in an instant. Then you can return to complaining about him like usual.”

“Talk to him? About what?” you said. She gave you an incredulous look.

“You were pretty mean to him the other day, Y/N,” she said.

“It wasn’t any meaner than what he says to me on the regular,” you said. “And what I say to him in return. I don’t see why he’d be more or less offended.”

“I think it was a little worse than what you typically say,” she said. “Plus, the context was different.”

“How so?” you said. She shook her head.

“That’s for him to explain, not me,” she said. “Come on, don’t be stubborn. Work things out with him. I miss hanging out with the guys.”

“Ah, so that’s why it matters to you,” you said. “Sorry to say it, but I don’t have any plans at attempting conversation with him anytime soon. Like I said, things are finally calm and stress-free for me. He’s the one being immature, as always, so why’s it up to me to make things better?”

“Immature?” your best friend said. “You’ve held a grudge against him since middle school.”

“And?” you said. She squinted at you before pursing her lips.

“Well, I guess the two of you really are made for one another,” she said.

“What?”

The next week would mark the beginning of the swimming unit in PE class, which you were actually looking forward to. You loved to swim, you had ever since you were a child and your parents had brought you into the water for the first time, and the thought of getting to earn a good grade for something you liked doing in the first place was an agreeable on.

In preparation, you decided to stop by the pool after classes were over so that you could acclimate yourself to the motions of the strokes once again. The swim team’s practice had been canceled, and no one else ever used the pool, so you would have the place to yourself, which was just about the closest thing to heaven you could imagine while still living on Earth.

Changing into your school-issued bathing suit and putting your things into a locker, you tied your hair back so that it was out of the way and stepped into the steaming indoor pool deck. The water was a bright cerulean shade, the lanes split by lane-lines which alternated colors to match your school’s emblem. When you dipped your toe into the deep end, you found it was warm, not cold like you had feared. The school didn’t splurge on heating the water of the rarely-used pool, so usually, it was all but freezing. You supposed that they must’ve had complaints from last year’s PE classes, so they had restarted the heaters in order to ensure that no one had any cause to whine about the temperature this year.

For a moment, you just sat on the tiled edge, your legs swishing about in the water, the heels of your palms pressing against the lip of the pool as you closed your eyes and luxuriated in the tangy scent of chlorine. So lost were you that you almost didn’t notice the door swinging open, but the clang of it shutting was unmistakable. Thinking it must’ve been a confused swim team member showing up to a practice that wasn’t happening, you opened your eyes, your lips parting to issue a reprimand that died before it could take shape.

It wasn’t a swim team member. It was Tabito Karasu, wearing a pair of swim trunks and nothing else, his jaw taut and his fists clenched as he inched towards the water. He hadn’t even noticed you, and you didn’t feel inclined to announce yourself, so you let your elbows dig into your thighs, your chin resting in your hands as you observed him.

You had known that he played soccer almost as long as you had known his name. It was the entire reason he was so popular and well-regarded in the school, and an inextricable part of his identity, but until now, you hadn’t quite considered what that actually meant. After all, you only ever saw him in the loose, modest clothing of the school’s uniform, so why would you jump to the conclusion that he was so — so — well, you were loath to admit it, but he had a striking body, and, now that he wasn’t being all cocky and maddening, you could appreciate that even his face was of a similar quality.

Blinking, you cocked your head as he extended a graceful foot towards the first stair leading into the shallow end. Water splashed against it, and he yanked it back like he had been scalded. You could not help yourself from giggling as he did this once and then twice again. On the third attempt, you forgot that the two of you weren’t acknowledging one another and cupped your hands around your mouth to amplify your voice.

“What are you doing?” you said.

“Who — Y/N? I didn’t realize anyone else was in here!” he said, stepping back from the pool and straightening his shorts, though there was nothing wrong with them that required straightening. You sprang to your feet and walked over to him, leaving wet footprints in your wake as you peered at him curiously.

“I was just going to do some laps to ensure that I’m at my best for the swimming unit next week. Did you have the same idea?” you said.

“Something like that,” he said.

“What’s with that whole ritual, though?” you said. “It’s not that cold. You should just get in.”

“Definitely not,” he said. You furrowed your brow.

“Okay,” you said. “Why are you at the pool, then, if you don’t want to go in the water?”

“It’s nothing you need to be concerned with!” he said. “Why are you so nosy? Just go away.”

“I was here first,” you said.

“Fine,” he said, spinning on his heel. “I’ll go, then.”

“Wait! Karasu, wait,” you said, grabbing onto his wrist as he made to leave. “Look, we don’t have to talk to one another or anything. We’re experienced enough at ignoring each other, so there’s not an issue in both of us being here.”

“Is that what you want?” he said.

“Yeah, sure,” you said. He swallowed hard, his throat bobbing, and you thought he would say something, but he only nodded curtly.

“Fine,” he said. You gave him an expectant look, but he did not move from the spot he was rooted in, so you thought that you might as well take the initiative. Looping around to the deep end, you inhaled and then dove into the water headfirst, staying under for as long as you could before finally surfacing and allowing yourself to settle into the familiar undulations that came with swimming.

After a few laps, you took a break, peeking up over the concrete to look at Karasu, who was still standing stubbornly in place, his nose wrinkling whenever he glanced at the pool.

“Hey,” you said. “Are you scared of the water or something?”

He froze. “Who told you that?”

“No one?” you said. “It’s pretty easy to tell as an onlooker. Were you planning on trying to get over your fear by coming to swim when no one was here? That’s dangerous if you don’t know how. You could drown.”

“I’m not scared of the water,” he said.

“Really? Then why’re you just standing there?” you said. His mouth opened and closed a few times, and then finally he hung his head in reluctant defeat.

“Whatever,” he said. Judging by the way he tensed immediately after the confession, he was expecting you to say something cruel, but you only boosted yourself out of the water and tapped him on the shoulder.

“I can help you, if you’d like,” you said. “I’m good at swimming.”

“Why would I want your help? And why would you even offer it in the first place? This is just one more subject you can beat me in, and that’s all you care about, so save it,” he said. “Congratulations, Y/N. You get to be number one this time.”

He looped a dry towel around his neck and left you standing alone, shivering and dripping pool water, a puddle forming around your feet as you gazed at the door he had vanished through.

The class rankings updated again after the swimming unit was over. You were in first place. Karasu didn’t even make it to the top ten. You wanted to celebrate the victory — it was the first time you had beaten him so thoroughly, after all — but for some reason, it didn’t really feel like something worth celebrating.

FOUR: STONE IT

School without Karasu was lonelier than you thought it would be. You hadn’t realized just how much you relied on him until he wasn’t there anymore. Without him, there wasn’t anyone you could exchange looks with across the room when somebody said something ridiculous in class. There wasn’t anyone who you could talk to in the minutes before the period began. There wasn’t anyone who made you push yourself to be better. What was the point of being first if Karasu wasn’t on your heels, ensuring that you stayed on the top for fear of losing to him? It was boring and lonely to try if he wasn’t doing the same.

You and he were still one and two, but it didn’t matter much anymore. The rankings were just numbers. They didn’t mean anything when Karasu still refused to even exchange pleasantries with you. Why would you want to compete when the other party didn’t share your interest? Now, if you managed to pull out ahead of him, it felt more like you had kicked a dog that was already down than if you had actually won anything. When he got first over you, it didn’t fuel your ambition any. You just wished he would come over and gloat instead of sitting there so solemnly, like none of it had ever mattered to him in the first place.

You couldn’t understand why he was so angry. What had you said that was so egregious? You hardly remembered the conversation you had had with him, it was that thoughtlessly done. You really hadn’t meant much if anything by it. One second, the two of you had been squabbling as you were prone to doing, and the next, he was so furious that he couldn’t bear to interact with you even still.

The day you were ambushed was nondescript. It was just like any other Wednesday, and you were walking back home from school when you were forced to stop in your tracks. A tall man — no, he was a boy, probably a year or two younger than you based on his soft and innocent expression — was barring your way, his arms outstretched and feet planted firmly in the ground to prove the depth of his conviction. He had pale hair and sky-colored eyes framed by the longest eyelashes you had ever seen on anyone, man or woman, with a small mouth pinched into an expression of discontent and lines like tire tracks between his eyebrows.

“Who are you?” you said warily, reaching for your phone, though you hardly knew who you would call. The setting was wrong for this to be a mugging, as it was sunny out and you were on a well-traveled street, but you didn’t really know what else to expect from the stranger, who could certainly outmuscle you if it came to it despite his lovely appearance.

“Yo Hiori,” he said. “I play on Bambi Osaka with Karasu. You’re Y/N L/N, correct?”

“Oh, one of the soccer guys?” you said. “Uh, hey. Yes, that’s me. Is something the matter? I’ve never seen you before. How do you even know who I am?”

“I’ve been watching Karasu for a while,” Hiori said with the utmost of seriousness, his hands dropping to his sides now that he was sure you weren’t going to run past him. “He’s a pretty fascinating person.”

“I’m sure,” you said, thinking to yourself that this Hiori kid was more than a little weird. Did Karasu know that he had acquired such a shadow? You supposed he must’ve. He had always been the observant type, so there was no way someone like Hiori would’ve escaped his keen notice.

“He’s been kind of down in the dumps recently, though. Even our coach noticed it. His playing hasn’t suffered too dramatically, but he’s the captain of the team, so he’s the guy everyone relies on for a funny pep talk or a word of advice when things are going south. Nowadays, however, when he’s off the field, he just sulks,” Hiori explained.

“I see,” you said. “That’s terrible.”

You meant it, too. Karasu without his asshole quips and ready jokes was a different person entirely. A person who you missed more than you could let on, even to yourself.

“It is,” Hiori said. “I took it upon myself to do some digging, and I’ve come to the conclusion that the reason is you.”

He was definitely a freak. You vowed to bring it up with Karasu, if he ever talked to you again. Even if he was already aware, it felt like a moral or civic duty of yours to ensure that he was fully informed about the extent that this child was inquiring into his life.

“What kind of, uh, digging do you mean?” you said, neatly avoiding the second thing he had said.

“It was pretty simple,” Hiori said. “One of the guys asked Karasu if he was acting off because he broke up with his girlfriend or something, and he got so mad that he left practice early. I opened up social media as soon as I got home and saw that you’re the only girl he follows, so by process of elimination, I figured the two of you were having some trouble in your relationship.”

“Relationship? I think you’re misunderstanding,” you said. “There’s no relationship. You could hardly even consider us friends.”

“Oh!” Hiori said. “I’m sorry. He’s mentioned you once or twice, so I just thought — and given what he said — and his reaction and all — no, I really am just sorry. It was wrong of me to make that assumption in the first place.”

“It’s alright,” you said. “I’m told it’s a relatively common misconception, so I can’t blame you. At least, it used to be. We haven’t really spoken in a while, so I guess everything thinks that it’s over, even though it never began in the first place.”

“You haven’t spoken in a while?” Hiori said. “Why not?”

“I think I said something that offended him, and we haven’t been on good terms since. Not that we ever really were in the first place,” you said.

“You did? He’s a pretty rational person, so it must’ve been something terrible for him to still be angry about it,” Hiori said.

“Maybe, but I don’t remember saying anything like that,” you said.

“What if you tell me how your last conversation went? Maybe I can help you,” he said.

“Sure, since you’re apparently the resident Karasu expert,” you said. “Wanna walk with me? I was heading home, but we can go to the convenience store and get some snacks or something instead. I don’t want to get in trouble for standing around in front of some random person’s house for too long.”

“Sounds good,” Hiori said. “There’s one a couple of minutes away, so we can head in that direction and keep talking as we go.”

“Great,” you said. “Okay, so the last time we talked…I think it was when Kenyu Yukimiya requested to follow me.”

“Who’s that?” Hiori said.

“He’s this model I met while I was shopping one day. Absolutely breathtaking,” you said. “Just really a stand-up guy. We’ve hung out a few times since then, he introduced me to the girlfriend I did not know he had, the works.“

“Yikes, unrequited love?” Hiori said with a wince.

“It was more of a celebrity crush. His girlfriend is super sweet, though, so I can’t complain. Anyways, I would consider them both casual acquaintances. The type you call to have a coffee with, but not the ones that help you move into a new apartment, you know?” you said.

“Uh, sure,” Hiori said in a tone which suggested he had no idea what you were talking about but was too scared to inquire further.

“Moving on, Yukimiya requested to follow me, and of course this was at the peak of my celebrity crush, so I started fawning over him, which prompted Karasu to take my phone and start insulting him,” you said.

“Interesting,” Hiori said.

“Then I called him ugly, and he called me ugly — that’s pretty standard for the two of us, so don’t look so shocked! After that, I said something about how I had expected him to be jealous of Yukimiya, since he didn’t have much going for him overall, so it made sense,” you said. “That’s when he left and things got weird.”

“Okay, I think I get it,” Hiori said. You waited for him to explain further. He smiled at you pleasantly.

“Right, so are you going to share with the class or am I meant to read your mind?” you said after a moment.

“I don’t want to give anything away that I shouldn’t,” he said. “But it’s a pretty simple issue to fix. Try thinking about what you said from his perspective.”

“He has a dumbass perspective. It’s impossible for me to think that way,” you said automatically.

“Do you think that he dislikes you?” Hiori said, taking two bottles of Yakult down from the shelf, handing one to you and keeping the other for himself.

“I’m not really sure how he feels about me, to tell you the truth,” you said.

“I don’t think he does,” Hiori said. “So, try thinking about someone you like and then imagine them saying to you what you said to them. Would you be inclined to be nice to them after that?”

“Well…” Your tongue was heavy and leaden in your mouth, and you ducked your head as you searched through your wallet for money. “No, not at all. I’d probably hate them for a really long time. Maybe forever.”

“That’s possible,” he said.

“Do you think he’ll hate me forever?” you said.

“Most likely not. Like I said earlier, he’s a rational person. I think that if you say sorry and sincerely mean it, he’ll forgive you. There’s a chance he won’t, though; you’ll have to listen to what he says and accept it,” Hiori said.

“But when? I hardly have the chance to see him in school. He just avoids me, and the building’s so big that it’s all but impossible to track him down!” you said.

“We have a soccer game in the evening today,” Hiori said. “I’m heading over there in a bit. Wanna come? You can talk to him once it’s over.”

“Am I allowed to?” you said.

“Why wouldn’t you be?” Hiori said. “If anyone says anything, just tell them I invited you. Here, I’ll give you the address and time now, and you can decide if you want to show up.”

“Okay,” you said, typing out his instructions in your notes app. “Thanks a lot for your help, Hiori.”

“Anytime!” he said. “Hope to see you at the game!”

“Even if I don’t go, I’d still like to meet you again. You’re a pretty cool kid,” you said, reaching up to ruffle his hair. “Kind of weird, if I’m being fully honest, but cool nonetheless. Karasu’s lucky to have a teammate like you.”

He grinned, and it was a tender, shy thing, as if he was earnestly seeking your praise or approval — like how a cat would bring a dead rat to its master or a child would show their parents a treasured drawing. “Thank you. Even if you don’t try to talk to Karasu…maybe you can still come anyways?”

“Alright, then,” you said. “Since you asked so nicely, I guess I have to. I’ll be there.”

FIVE: TAME IT

The sun was nearing the horizon, but it still had not officially begun to set by the time you settled in the bleachers on Bambi Osaka’s side. Besides a couple of women your mother’s age and an elderly man who must’ve been someone’s grandfather, there weren’t any other spectators. Hiori had mentioned that this wasn’t a particularly serious game, as they didn’t even need to beat the team to make it to Nationals, so it was more like a friendly exhibition game than anything — hence the low turnout.

“Hello, dear,” a woman said when she noticed you sitting by yourself. “Are you friends with one of the players?”

“Yes. Um, Tabito Karasu? I’m his classmate,” you said. Technically, you were there on Hiori’s goodwill, not Karasu’s, but for you to not mention Karasu would be like a betrayal. You weren’t sure if it was him or yourself that you’d be betraying, but either way you did not want to chance it.

“You’re one of Karasu’s friends? Lucky you, then,” she said. “He’s a delightful boy, or so I’ve heard. This is my son’s first year on the team, and he was really nervous to join such a prestigious organization, but ever since his first day, all he can talk about is how amazing his captain is. Karasu’s tough on all of the players, but he really works hard to make all of them feel welcomed, too.”

Bambi Osaka’s team took the field, and you smiled when you saw Karasu in the front, his name across the back of his jersey, a pair of black gloves covering his large hands, an insolent leer on his face as he greeted the other team’s captain. He had not noticed you yet, and you were not sure if this was for the better or worse, because you wanted him to see you, but you didn’t want him to be distracted and play poorly as a result.

“He’s a wonderful person,” you agreed. “He’s the only one in the entire school who can keep up with me, academically or otherwise. I didn’t realize until recently how much I admire him for that.”

The woman’s eyes crinkled around the corners with the ease that came from a lifetime of happiness. For some reason, you thought that she knew something you did not, or could not, but it wasn’t uncomfortable that she did. It seemed to you that being left in the dark was just your lot this time around, and you found that oddly enough, it felt acceptable.

“Is this your first time coming to watch him?” she said.

“Yes, it is,” you said.

“You know, he has this habit before every match of scanning the stands, like he’s looking for someone. I thought it might be his parents, but at the last match, just about his entire family showed up, and he still seemed disappointed,” she said.

“That’s a shame,” you said noncommittally, not sure what else you should say. The woman shrugged.

“Well, I wonder what it’ll be like today,” she said. “There he goes.”

True to her words, Karasu was craning his neck towards the Bambi Osaka side, his eyes darting from person to person until they settled on you. You raised your hand hesitantly, waving at him, knowing that he probably wouldn’t reciprocate.

He turned away almost immediately, but not before you saw him fight back a smile — not the smug type he generally donned, but one you had only ever seen on him once or twice. It was one that made him seem charming and boyish and sweet, that made you want to take back every negative word you had ever said about him. Only now could you understand that it showed who he really was, that at his heart Karasu was that kind of person, not anything like the facade you were so accustomed to, which he showed you for the sole reason that it was what you unconsciously demanded of him.

You had judged him to be horrible, and so he became the bane of your existence. You had told him he was good for nothing, so he disappeared like he really was just that. Everything you said, Karasu went along with gamely, and you wished you could’ve known that earlier, so you would’ve spent less time hating him and more time comprehending these intricacies, which entranced you in the way a spider’s web entranced a butterfly.

“Looks like I don’t need to worry about that child any more,” the woman said as the referee blew the whistle to signal the start of the game.

“Pardon?” you said. “Were you talking to me?”

“No, no,” she said, shaking her head. “I was just musing to myself. Ignore me. Let’s watch the game; I have a feeling that some of our players are going to go all out today.”

Bambi Osaka completely annihilated the other team. Maybe the match didn’t matter, but none of them played that way; instead, they were aggressive and focused, with Karasu at the forefront of every goal they made, commending his teammates and deriding his opposition in the same breath.

That was something you had not expected — he had a massively foul mouth when he played soccer. You had thought that he was rude when he spoke to you, but the things you overheard from him whenever he ran by within earshot made your conversations seem tame. You couldn’t help but pity the poor defenders that he shoved past and spat barbed-wire abuse at.

He was merciless and beautiful and you could probably spend a dozen more hours watching him play without even a trace of boredom, but by the time the sky had turned gold and the sun had dipped towards the ground, the game was over and the members of Bambi Osaka were packing up their things to leave for the night after yet another landslide win.

You snuck onto the field once you were extremely assured that nobody would be upset with you for it, making your way over to where Karasu was chugging a bottle of water.

“Hi,” you said when he was finished, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and tossing the now-empty bottle into his bag. “You played really well.”

“Thanks,” he said. There was impatience but also longing in his voice, like he wanted you to say something so badly but he knew you would not, would never, and so he would rather get the conversation over with and move on with the business of his life than stick around and waste time with you.

“I’m sorry,” you said.

“What?” he said.

“I’m sorry,” you said. “Karasu, I’m really sorry. I don’t think that you have nothing going for you. I don’t know why I said that. Well, I do, it’s because I wanted to have the last word like I always do, but I don’t mind if I don’t have it this time. Or any other time. Or ever again.”

“What?” he repeated, as though he had been rendered dumb by your confession.

“I miss you,” you admitted. “I didn’t believe I could, but apparently, I can, and I do. A lot. I know that I’m unpleasant and disparaging and haughty when it comes to you, but I won’t be that way anymore if you forgive me for my vices one last time. If it means you’ll talk to me, I’ll be a fool. I’ll be in second place. I’ll be an idiot. But please, please forgive me.”

He took a deep breath. You handed him the bottle of kombucha that you had bought on your way to the game because you saw him drink it so frequently that you figured he must like it. He accepted it gingerly, holding it with the delicacy of a newborn, unscrewing the lid and sipping on it pensively.

“Alright,” he said.

“Alright?” you said.

“I’ll forgive you,” he said. “But on one condition.”

“Anything,” you said.

“You better not do anything as dumb as trying to be mediocre on purpose because you think it’ll make me feel better. What the hell is that proposition, huh? It’ll make me feel worse if anything! I like you because you’re unpleasant and disparaging and haughty and whatever else you said, not in spite of those qualities. I’m sure you heard me while I was playing…anyone who isn’t you would probably be terrified of me when I’m like that,” he said. “Just, y’know, I’m a person with feelings, too, so keep that in mind if you can. Oh, and don’t wait so long to say sorry next time, because it’s seriously annoying for me to feel all out-of-sorts for ages!” he said.

“That’s it?” you said.

“That’s it,” he said. “Hug?”

Ordinarily, you would’ve said no, but you were so weepy at the reconciliation that you nodded and let him embrace you, his arms caging you against his chest, holding you to him so that you could not escape.

“Ew!” you shouted when you registered what he was trying to do, shoving him off of you as he cackled and released you without much of a fight. “Gross, Karasu, you’re disgusting! Get away from me! I can’t believe you did that!”

“I can’t believe you fell for it!” he said as you frantically tried to wipe yourself off, though it was largely in vain. In your emotional state, you had forgotten that he was still drenched with sweat from the game, and you were now reaping the consequences of your poor decision making.

“You’re a bad person,” you said.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said. “Whatever you say.”

“I probably deserved that one, though, so I won’t hold it against you,” you said.

“Smart decision,” he said. “Wait. Unrelated, but whatever ended up happening between you and that model dude? What was his name again?”

“Yukimiya? He has a girlfriend,” you said. “Oh, well. What can you do, right? I’m not upset about it. Besides, everyone and their mother thinks I have a boyfriend already, so it’s probably for the best that it worked out like this. I wouldn’t want his modeling career to be ruined by home-wrecking allegations or anything.”

“It must be a pretty serious not-relationship you’ve got there, if it’s the career-ending type,” he said.

“I’d say it’s pretty serious, yes,” you said. “He’s an awesome guy. You’d like him.”

“I’ll respect it, then,” he said. “But…if you ever find yourself not-breaking up with him, then, uh, let me know. I’ll take you on a date somewhere. We can argue and reminisce about the day we met over dinner or something. It’ll be super romantic.”

He said it casually, but you were more familiar with him than either of you ever could’ve predicted you’d be. He was secretly nervous about how big of a risk he had taken, fiddling with the zipper of his soccer bag, avoiding your eyes while he waited for your response. You let the silence stretch on for a minute, just to make him squirm, and then you poked him in the ribs.

“Karasu,” you said.

“What’s up?” he said, and he must’ve been trying very hard to keep his cool, but his anxiety transmitted through the endearing crack of his voice.

“I have to tell you something,” you said.

“Go ahead,” he said.

“I’m not-single now,” you said. “So. Will you take me on a date this weekend?”

He lit up, so bright that you were all but blinded by the brilliance of his joy. Then he cleared his throat and pretended to check the non-existent watch on his wrist.

“You’re in luck,” he said. “That works for me. I’ll pick you up on Saturday for dinner.”

“Great,” you said. “I look forward to it.”

“Hold on, don’t go just yet,” he said. You paused, about to ask him what else he needed when he stooped over and pressed his lips to your cheek. “Thanks for coming to my game. I’m not really sure how you knew I was playing, but I’m glad you could make it either way.”

“Um — uh — Hiori told me, he told me you were playing, and, er, where to go and what time and all,” you stammered, trying to wrap your head around what had just happened, replaying it in your mind over and over.

“Hiori? I should’ve known he’d be the type to meddle like that,” he said. “I’m not even going to ask how you know each other. The answer will probably make me feel vaguely discomfited, so I’ll abide by an ‘ignorance is bliss’ policy.”

“That’s probably for the best,” you said, composing yourself, though internally, you were imagining what it would be like if you had turned your head, if instead of your cheek his lips had landed somewhere else. “Okay, I should go now. See you on Saturday?”

“One last thing. You’re pretty transparent, you know,” he said, grasping your chin in his left hand and leaning in. Your eyelashes fluttered shut as he grew closer and closer, but right when his mouth was a hair’s breadth from yourself, he chuckled. “Also, pretty gullible.”

Instead of kissing you like you had anticipated he would, he tackled you in another hug. You squealed in protest, but he held fast, his body rumbling with laughter as you simultaneously struggled to escape and clung onto him as tightly as you could.

“I hate you,” you said when your half-hearted efforts proved to be entirely futile.

“Sure you do,” he said.

“You’re the worst,” you said.

“Absolutely,” he said.

“I’m being serious here. You smell!” you said.

“Well, that’s plain rude of you to say,” he said, messing up your hair in what you were sure he deemed to be a punishment, as if being crushed against his sweaty form wasn’t punishment enough.

“Let go of me, you idiot crow!” you said.

“No can do,” he said. “Crows are clingy birds, you know. Even the idiotic ones. Ask me again in twenty years and maybe we can revisit the issue.”

“Karasu!”

#karasu x reader #karasu x y/n #karasu x you #karasu tabito #bllk x reader #bllk #blue lock #academic rivals to lovers #reader insert #m1ckeyb3rry milestone #m1ckeyb3rry writes

197 notes · View notes

astrophileous · 1 year ago

Text

Thunderstorm

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader

Synopsis: Spencer Reid was never a fan of thunderstorms. On one particular night, he woke up to one.

Warning(s): established relationship, mentions and/or depictions of gun violence/injury, protective spencer, parent-child relationships, I think that's it (?) this one is really just fluff wrapped in more fluff 🥰

Word Count: 2400-ish

Author's Note: HELLO! I'm finally back from the dead (yayyy)!! To celebrate, and as we all wait for me to finish rewriting the remaining chapters of love bugs, I'm posting this fic here for you all to enjoy :) I think it's the fluffiest piece I've ever written (srsly, not even a drop of angst!) so I hope you will enjoy! Let me know what you think okkk, don't forget to LIKE+COMMENT+REBLOG if you like this one xx btw I'm pretty sure this can be read as gender neutral reader since I'm positive I didn't use any gender-conforming words, but pls lmk if I'm wrong!

Criminal Minds Masterlist

Spencer hated thunderstorms.

He had many memories of them, not particularly good ones. Most of them involved him being on the field during yet another atrocious case, gun and flashlight in hand, trekking after muddy footsteps that belonged to an UnSub he was chasing.

He had been shot, once, during a thunderstorm. The bullet lodged itself against his bulletproof vest before the perpetrator had received a retaliation shot from Derek's gun. The vest had saved his life that night. The nasty bruise decorating his torso for the following week, though, served as a sufficient reminder in Spencer's mind.

Thunderstorms were a natural enemy whenever he was on the field. Unfortunately for him, the rivalry seemed to continue past the doorstep of his home, too.

Back when sleep was a luxury that he had to scour and cherish, thunderstorms would be the antagonist that kept the two even further apart. The sound of heavy rain against windows was a line of needles prickling into his circadian rhythm, erasing any possibilities of sleep if he was even lucky enough to have them in the first place.

On those nights, Spencer would sit against the headboard with a book in his lap, hoping that the passage detailing the fall of Joseon Dynasty in Korean Peninsula--or the rise or Majapahit Empire in the island of Java, whichever had caught his interest more at that specific moment in time--would be enough distraction to take his mind off the disaster wreaking havoc outside of his apartment.

Thanks to years of therapy, Spencer now had found it easier to chase sleep whenever he needed it. Still, its sweet relief stood no chance against the chaos brought by a raging thunderstorm.

This time, too, was no different.

Spencer had been dreaming. A land of reverie where his tongue had tasted honey, where his nose had recognized the hint of mint and juniper berry before the image was rattled by a high-pitched shriek in the sky.

When Spencer opened his eyes, the bedroom was enveloped in a near state of total darkness.

The sharp cry he heard had come from a lightning that struck momentarily before he woke up. Five seconds later, another one struck again, sending a jolt of adrenaline through Spencer's body as he waited for the imminent thunder to shatter the atmosphere.

Spencer shut his eyes in an attempt to get his racing heart back under control. Once he opened them again, the remnants of sleep had washed away from his pupils, allowing him to take in the empty bed, the chill bedroom, and the opened door right across from where he was sitting.

Frowning, Spencer thought back to a few hours prior. How he had promptly retired to the bedroom after coming home from work. He remembered clearly--courtesy of his eidetic memory--having slammed the door shut before he got ready for bed.

A creak in the floorboards outside his bedroom door compelled Spencer to reach into the bedside drawer, fingers inching nearer to where the secret holster of his gun was located.

Before his hand could wrap around the weapon, the bedroom door was pushed ajar, revealing a familiar figure standing in the doorway, outline cast by a hazy kind of luminance.

Spencer breathed out a sigh of relief. "I thought you were an intruder."

You raised an eyebrow at his statement. A playful smile sweetened by the gentle glow radiating off the flickering candle in your hand.

"It's just me," you assured him, finally stepping into the threshold and placing the candle on top of the dresser.

"I can see that." He watched you approaching, gaze never straying even when you picked up the comforter a tiny bit to slip back into bed. "Where did you go?"

"Went down to check the breaker. Power's out completely, by the way. Looks like the storm took out the whole block."

He made a disapproving face at your response. "You were in the basement? Alone?"

Your forehead furrowed at the tone of Spencer's voice. It wasn't until you glimpsed the telltale sign of worry in his eyes that your shoulders eventually deflated. "I'm okay, Spencer."

"Why didn't you wake me?"

"Because," you began, an amused smile threatening to split your face into two, "it's a three flights of stairs walk from our bedroom, darling. I think I can manage it just fine."

"But--"

"Besides," you cut him off, silencing him with a gentle palm pressing on his cheek. Spencer instantly melted at the contact. "I know how you get during nights like this. I wanted to let you have as much sleep as you could before the storm eventually wakes you up."

His hand circled around your wrist, then, bringing it upwards so that he could leave tiny kisses on your palm before he entwined his fingers with yours. "You still should've woken me up."

"Spence--"

"I know, I know. You could've done it yourself, I don't doubt it. I just--" he paused, swallowing a lump before continuing, "--I could've just waited here. In the bedroom. But in case anything happened, I would've been there for you."

The admission was quiet within the four walls of your bedroom. You knew that Spencer's plea had nothing to do with a toxic need to be controlling. Instead, it had stemmed from the vulnerability within. A naked truth that nestled in the deepest corners of Spencer Reid's soul.

The years that you had spent together allowed you to understand Spencer at a level nobody else could. They allowed you to understand that this silly request was nothing more than a fruit of his vigilant bones, forged consistently throughout his years in law enforcement. Spencer Reid, underneath his soft eyes and tender touches, had witnessed all of the gruesome layers of the world, lost far more things than anyone ever should.

It was only logical, now that Spencer had you in his life--a miraculous reprieve to his otherwise ghastly world--he would spend every waking moment to do everything in his power to make sure you were safe.

Always.

With this knowledge in mind, you couldn't, in good conscience, bring yourself to deny Spencer's plea, no matter how foolish it might seem.

What you did, instead, was shifting yourself closer to his body, seeking permission with your eyes before you leaned forward for a quick kiss.

"I'm sorry, darling," you offered sincerely. "I'll keep that in mind for next time, yeah? How does that sound?"

The relief was blinding as it washed over Spencer's whole being. "Thank you," he muttered before kissing your knuckles. "And I'm sorry, too, for being like this."

You shook your head firmly. Not because you didn't accept his apology, but because you didn't need one. Spencer didn't have anything to apologize for.

When you told him as much, Spencer's only reply was to press his lips to yours.

You were rendered pliant underneath his ministrations, your body molding into his as if you were two fabrics cut from the same cloth. Spencer poured all of his emotions into the kiss. Wishing--begging--that you could taste just how consuming the love he harbored for you was. The same way he could taste your heart beneath the hint of honey on your lips.

Once breathing became a chore, Spencer took the heavy decision to pull away, settling for resting his forehead on top of yours instead.

"Do you wanna go back to sleep?" you whispered.

Spencer wanted to nod, feeling a huge load pressing on every inch of muscle in his body. But before he could take you up on the offer, a distant sound between the roaring of thunders caught his attention, stopping his words right in their tracks.

"Did you hear that?" Spencer asked.

"Hear what?" You frowned. "The thunder?"

"No." He rushed to get up from the bed, gaze apologetic as he looked at you from the doorway. "Stay here? I'll be back soon."

Soft footsteps trudged along the landing of your two story house, leading Spencer towards another door located right by the stairs. He knocked slowly on the wooden door, twice, before pushing it open with a gentle nudge of his hip.

The room he entered was smaller than the room he shared with you. During the days, the windows on the far end of the wall would offer a mesmerizing view of the creek that ran along the backside of the neighborhood. During nights like this, however, they merely provided another harsh peek at the tantrum that mother nature was throwing against the world.

Although the room was swallowed in darkness, Spencer could still make out the silhouettes inside. From the haphazardly scattered toys on the floor, the colorful drawings taped on the walls, even to the lavender-colored furniture that seemed to fill every available corner in the entire space.

Amongst them all, the one silhouette that managed to pull at Spencer's heartstrings was the one curled up on the center of the bed. A usually joyous sunshine, reduced to a whimpering ball under a cotton unicorn-themed blanket.

"Princess."

Spencer tugged the blanket down, revealing misty eyes and pouting lips on a face he held dearly. A sob managed to wreck itself out of the little girl's chest, plummeting Spencer's heart further down the abyss of no end.

"Oh, sweetheart."

He gathered the 4-year-old in his arms, feeling her immediately hugging his neck. Her body was still shivering with tiny whimpers and sobs, all of which Spencer tried to subside gently by constant strokes down her back.

"It's okay. You're okay," he shushed quietly, rocking his body to a phantom tune while she clung to his chest. "Do you wanna tell me what's going on?"

The girl sniffled aloud before lifting her head, her tiny hands rubbing rigorously on the tear stains around her eyes.

"The-the thunders," she murmured. "It was so loud. I woke up and everything was d-dark. Daddy, I'm scared!"

She threw her arms around his neck again, crying softly into the collar of his sleeping shirt. Spencer tightened his embrace around his daughter, heart breaking into pieces with every tear shed from her innocent eyes.

"Sshh, it's alright, princess. Everything's alright. Daddy's here now," Spencer cooed. "Do you wanna sleep with us tonight? Hm?"

His daughter started to nod frantically. "Don't forget Mr. Elphie, Daddy."

Chuckling, Spencer quickly grabbed the elephant stuffed animal lying next to her pillow. "Of course not. Mr. Elphie is coming with us, isn't he?"

Spencer began to retreat back in the direction of your bedroom, all the while conversing with his little girl to keep her mind off the storm that was still raging wildly outside.

You were checking something on your phone by the time Spencer finally returned. Immediately, you tossed the device aside once you saw him, eyes widening in concern when you saw your daughter's limbs entangled around Spencer's form.

"What happened?" you asked.

Spencer headed for the bed, slowly putting down the little girl who instantly cuddled your side after he had tucked her under the duvet.

"The thunders are scary," your daughter mumbled into the fabric of your shirt.

Your eyes flicked towards Spencer, who gave a single nod of confirmation before settling back on his side of the bed.

"Oh, honey. I'm so sorry." You brushed back the hair from her face, taking in the sight of your favorite pair of eyes that seemed to have lost their usual sparkles in the wake of her tears. "What do you wanna do, hun? Should I tell you a story? Play a little music?"

"I wanna sleep here with you and Daddy," she said in a shaky voice. "Is that okay?"

Kissing the crown of her head, you answered, "Of course it's okay, sunshine. Come here."

Your daughter fell back into your awaiting arms. Her small frame fitting so easily into the front side of your body. You watched as her tiny fingers clutched Mr. Elphie tighter, breath evening out while her face burrowed even deeper into your chest.

It felt as if hours had passed before you could find the will to rip your gaze away. In all honesty, you could probably have spent an entire eternity staring at the little miracle in your arms had the universe given you the chance. When you lifted your head, your eyes automatically locked with Spencer's, who looked as if he, too, had been entranced by the sight in front of him.

"She's incredible," Spencer confessed into the night, voice fragile with the weight of awe it seemed to carry. "I can't believe she's ours."

You extended your hand towards him, smiling brightly once Spencer secured it in his own.

"Seems like the apple doesn't fall far from the tree," you mused, eyes glinting mischievously from the knowledge that your daughter--just like her beloved Daddy--also had a fear of thunderstorms. "Like father like daughter, huh?"

Spencer rolled his eyes. "I'm not scared of thunderstorms. I'm just... not fond of them"

"Uh-huh."

"Shut up." He bit your knuckles playfully, seemingly pleased with himself when he managed to elicit a laugh out of your chest. "Go get some sleep. You have an early day tomorrow."

"Speak for yourself, Mister." You settled your head back on the pillow, Spencer mirroring your position without breaking his hold around your hand. "Where are you going again?"

"Florida. Miami."

"Damn," you muttered, temporarily panicking about your terrible choice of words before calming back down once you saw your daughter sleeping soundly. "I bet it's nice there this time of year."

"It's Miami. The weather barely changes there all year-round."

"Exactly my point."

"Besides," Spencer added, squeezing your hand once, "it's not a vacation. It doesn't matter where I'm going, I'll only be seeing dead bodies all day long."

"Okay. I really don't need to start seeing corpses in my head right before going to sleep, so thanks for that."

"You started it."

"I most certainly did not." You scoffed. "I'm not liking this conversation. Now, can we please go to sleep?"

Spencer had a retort ready on the tip of his tongue. But once he saw how peaceful you looked with your eyes closed, entangled as one with your daughter, he decided against it.

At last, he opted to shuffle closer on the bed until he could wrap his arm around the two of you, letting the scent of mint from your shampoo and juniper berry from your daughter's body wash to wrap around his whole being.

Spencer was still not a fan of thunderstorms.

But on nights like this, he had to begrudgingly admit that maybe, maybe, they weren't really that bad after all.

783 notes · View notes