#latest shopping center | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

baronessvonglitter · 1 month ago

Text

Bad Santa

sleazy mall Santa!Joel Miller x fem!Reader

Word count: 2.3K

Summary: Frantically seeking relief during the Christmas rush, the Santa at your local mall is the last person you'd expect to help.. and the only one who can.

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Explicit. Reader is a hot and horny mess and wears a short skirt. Mall Santa is a perv, but he's your perv. Semi-public masturbation (f). Squirting. Cockwarming. Semi-public sex. Infidelity. Unprotected piv. Oral (m & f receiving). Analingus (f receiving). Possibly illegal use of a candy cane. Creampie. Come swallowing. Santa Joel is a menace and a sleaze but that's what we all need, right?

Author's Note: one of the first things I learned about @strang3lov3 is that we share a deep love for Bad Santa (and Billy Bob in general) so this is written in her honor. Bug, I hope you enjoy Santa Joel, and don't forget to leave out some cigs and whiskey for him on Xmas Eve. (And the latest edition of Hustler. He's an old-school magazine man.)

JOEL MILLER MASTERLIST | FULL MASTERLIST

You're home on Christmas break from college and all you want to do is fuck the boyfriend you left behind and have been faithful to for four long, painful months. But the only thing on Derek's mind is doing last minute Christmas shopping.

The mall on Christmas Eve is the last circle of hell.

Derek guides you through the crowd. "Sleigh Ride" plays over the speakers, tinny, bright and cheery. You hate it. You're impatient. You're horny. You need to find a way to get him alone, even just a fingerbang would suffice. For now.

You pass by the huge Christmas tree in the center where the mall Santa waits with bored-looking elves. There's no line, which is surprising given it's the last day for photo ops.

Santa watches as you pass, cheap plastic beard hanging off, revealing gray scruff, his red suit wrinkled and stained. You track his gaze roving over your figure, fully concentrating on the jiggle of your ass under the short skirt you'd picked out in the hopes of getting a quickie.

"God damn," you hear him mutter. "Merry Christmas, babygirl." he calls out.

You glance back and see him pull the beard down, wiggling his tongue at you in a lewd manner.

Fucking sleaze. But your pussy is wet and throbbing, and this is the first bit of attention you've had all day. You respond by stuffing your tongue in your cheek and making a blow job motion. Santa licks his lips and subtly palms his cock over his fluffy red pants.

Derek, oblivious, is walking you towards a department store.

"Mommy said she'd like a new bathrobe for Christmas," he says, bringing you past the awful perfume and makeup counters. You heard right.. Mommy. What the fuck?

"Didn't you already buy her a foot massager?" you ask, barely hiding your disinterest, looking around for a corner where you can blow him.

"She said she wants the robe instead," he says, diligently checking each one on the rack. Pink, green, blue, they're all in ugly prints and you wonder how little he must think of his mom to actually buy her a bathrobe instead of something nice.

But the bigger problem is your aching cunt.

"Derek, come on, just pick one out," you beg him, whispering in his ear, giving his lobe a little bite.

"Calm down, we're in public," he chides you over nervous laughter.

"So? That makes it more exciting." Closer to him as the clothing rack hides you, you cup his crotch, disappointed to find he isn't even remotely hard. Not a problem. You know exactly how to get him started.

"Let's go to the dressing room," you tell him before he can remove your hand. "I'll let you do whatever you want, please, I just need you now.."

"Get a hold of yourself," he whispers harshly, finally pulling your hand from him.

"Derek, what the fuck?" you whisper back. "Your horny girlfriend wants you to fuck her in a semi-public place and you're limp as a fucking noodle. Don't you want to at least watch me get off?"

You're not even allowing him time to think about it, leading him to the men's dressing room, where you're less likely to set off an alarm than the women's. You step into the first stall and push him against the wall, caging him in with your arms.

"Sweetheart, what the hell?"

"Fuck me," you tell him. "Jesus, Derek, I'm pussy on a plate right now." You lift your leg, rubbing against him, but only the fly of his jeans provides any feeling. "And you can't even get hard??"

"You're coming on a little strong," he says faintly, as if he's being cornered by a feral animal. And in a way he is.

You lean back on the little dressing room seat, hiking up your skirt. "At least eat me out, for Christ's sake," you whine, fingers dipping into your dripping-over cunt.

"Darling! You're acting like a crazy person," he says, shielding his eyes as you desperately finger yourself.

"You're such a pussy," you grunt out, breath hitching as you fuck yourself on two, then three fingers.

"You're not wearing any panties??" he says too loud, but you're past caring who hears, or if anyone even walks in. You'll gratefully fuck the store manager and the security guard who'll probably come to haul you away.

Derek keeps his gaze averted as you continue shamelessly fucking your hand, reaching inside your dress to twist your nipple. "Derek.. fuck.. you just gonna stand there and be useless?" You shove a fourth finger in your snatch, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

Your boyfriend is deeply afraid as he risks a peek from between his hands covering his face. "You look possessed! You have to stop or someone's going to hear you!"

"Baby, please, put your cock in my mouth," you beg, still working yourself into a frenzy. "Jizz on my face, anything, please!" You're on the floor now, riding your own fingers, your other hand madly strumming at your clit like a perverted version of air guitar.

There's a knock at the dressing room door, to which you answer "Go away, we're fucking" Then you come, squirting all over the bathrobe Derek was going to gift his dear mommy.

"You're lucky that guy didn't turn us into the police," Derek says, tight-lipped as he leads you back towards the center of the mall. "Got it all out of your system?" He's leaving the store embarrassed and minus any gifts.

"Yes," you sigh in exasperation, though it's a bald-faced lie. The need is growing again and you're just a slave to it. Your hands itch to go up your skirt again, to relieve the tension before it becomes unbearable.

And there he is, right where you left him before. Fucking Santa Claus. Like he's been waiting for you this whole time.

"Let's take a picture," you pull on Derek's hand. "Please? End the day on a good note?" You do your best to look contrite but all you're thinking about is sitting on that sleazy man's lap, maybe getting felt up. It'd be fucking amazing to have someone touch you besides your own fingers.

Before he can even protest you're practically skipping past the velvet rope and traipsing up the candy-cane lined walk to the big green chair where Santa sits. His eyes already on you, he pats his lap, tongue peeking out between his lips.

Derek follows after, but is stopped by one of the elves, who tells him he has to pay in advance for a photo.

"And what's your name?" Santa murmurs, discreetly adjusting himself as you seat yourself on his lap. "Does it matter?" you ask, subtly lifting the back of your skirt as he pulls his thick hard cock. "Guess not," he chuckles low and deep, then hisses as your slick tight cunt envelops him.

"My fucking god," he says lowly, doing all he can to keep from thrusting up into you as your boyfriend comes up, all smiles as he watches you get cozy with Santa. He makes as if to sit on Santa's other thigh. "Not you," Santa grunts, his hands on your waist as you clench and throb around him. Derek holds a smile and stands to the side opposite you.

This, this is what you needed. His cock isn't even all the way in, the way you pulse around him pushes him out a little until his hands grab your waist, as if to pose you for the camera, and pushes you down, bottoming out within your sopping wet cunt.

"Gonna leave a mess on me," he murmurs. "Already got my lap soaked. And the suit's a fuckin' rental."

His breath smells like cigarettes and cheap booze and it's only making you want him more. "Fuck, I needed this.."

"You been a good girl this year?"

"Not at all."

He leans in and whispers: "Good girls get presents. Bad girls like you get to sit on Santa's fat cock." He shifts his lap up a little, jutting up into you and you bite your lip to barely suppress a moan.

Your picture is being taken with Santa but you could give a shit. Cockwarming him while he's whispering filth in your ear is the most fun you've ever had.

"Does baby girl want a candy cane?" he asks when it's time for you to go. Derek goes to pay, leaving you alone with Santa again. "We have some more in the elf cottage, You gonna come get one? Gotta earn it first.." His gloved finger traces your arm. "C'mon, ditch the wanker."

The elf cottage is a sparse room for the Santa's Wonderland employees to take their breaks, and right now it's filled with the sounds of flesh slapping on flesh, your moans muffled by the fluffy red hat he put there to quiet you as he bends you over the folding table and rams his holly jolly dick into your stretched needy cunt.

"That's it, baby, fuckin' take it. Let Santa stuff your tight lil' stocking," he grunts.

You moan around the red fluff of his hastily discarded hat, throat burning with all your pent-up screams. Christ, you've never had anyone so disgusting, so eager, so perfect to satisfy this itch that you've been unable to scratch yourself.

And lord, his cock is the most filling thing you'll ever have. You already know he's going to leave you gaping for the next few days.

He watches the ripples of your ass as you throw it back on him, taking his entire fucking shaft so that with each thrust his balls thwack against your inner thighs. "Tight and wet.. lil' bitch in heat, ain't ya?" he teases, circling his hips so you feel him against every square inch of your aching snatch. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, finally spitting out the stupid hat.

"Fuck me Santa, fuck me Santa, fuck me Santa," you chant in broken moans, pushing your hips back, demanding it hard and fast, which he gives even as you come, clamping down all around him in a vise grip.

"Jesus," he growls, pulling out and kneeling behind you. He purses his lips to your dripping cunt, wiggling his tongue against your folds before licking a wide stripe upwards, teasing your asshole with his tongue. You practically shove your ass against his face, his gloved hands spreading your cheeks to get better access.

Grabbing a candy cane from a basket on the table you unwrap it with your teeth and hand it to him. It's thick and hard, and Santa knows just what to do with it. Feasting on both your holes, he takes the candy cane and watches it disappear into your glistening pussy. Hearing your gasp encourages him to keep going, fucking you as his tongue keeps rimming your ass, delving into tease you.

There's a knocking at the makeshift cottage door, then a moment of silence and a "God damn it, Joel, not again!" from the other side. "Fucker's always doing something," the person, most likely one of the elves at the cash register, mumbles and walks off.

He's back inside you, sliding the candy cane between your lips, moving it in and out just as he moves in and out, keeping you spread open so he fill you with every inch. "Babygirl likes havin' somethin' to suck on, don't she?" he mutters, pumping steadily into you. "Gotta be a good girl and tell me where ya want it."

"Inside me," you beg, and he moves double time, hands on your shoulders as he ruts up against you, slamming every inch until you cry out again, knees buckling as you come hard and Santa Joel follows soon after, his jizz painting your insides in warm sticky ropes.

"Lick me clean, baby," he murmurs, and you immediately go to your knees, taking him deep into your mouth, your jaw aching as the tip of him hits the back of your throat. When you gag he keeps you there, your mouth filling with saliva until it spills out from your lips, mixed with his cum. You bob your head on his length, eyes watering as you look up at him, your cunt still throbbing as you start to leak him on the floor.

"Fuuuuck yes," he growls, hand on your head, teeth sinking into his lower lip as you suck him off, and it's a Christmas miracle he's hard again, and he's about to come. He holds your head still and facefucks you, your hands cupping his ass to stop him from going too shallow-- you need to be deepthroated for once in your life.

Santa Joel lets out another curse as he uses you to come, spurting his Christmas magic down your throat. "There's a good girl. Babygirl's thirsty for what Santa's got, huh?" he teases as you greedily swallow every bitter, salty drop.

Clothes are straightened before you leave the little elf cottage, but the look of satisfaction is plain on your face as you suck on the candy cane that you'd been fucked with only moments before. Santa Joel puts his hat back on his head and shuffles over to the helper elves. "I'm goin' out for another smoke break," he tells them.

The head elf puts her hands on her hips. "Joel, you're not allowed to take ten smoke breaks an hour!" But by then he's already on the way out, both middle fingers in the air to salute her.

Derek joins you, looking puzzled as he studies the holiday photo -- there's something off about the face you're making in it. "Did Santa give you that candy cane?"

Grinning, you slurp up the sweet peppermint that still has traces of your own flavor on it. "And then some."

dividers by @saradika 👑

Tagging those who showed interest: @clawdee @itwasntimethatdidit40 @milla-frenchy @myownwholewildworld

@penascigarette @hoelaris

#joel smut #joel miller fanfic #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fan fiction #bad santa!joel #mall santa!joel #pedro pascal character headcanons #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal character #pedro pascal cinematic universe #ppcu #ppcu fanfiction #ppcu fandom

704 notes · View notes

primalsouls · 3 months ago

Text

your eyes

'malipo' kinich x m!reader

I don't care how long it takes As long as I'm with you I've got a smile on my face

theme: general, fluff

warning: none, i think, maybe a bit ooc?

summary: (name) has been crushing on a certain saurian hunter for a while already and wayna was getting tired of just watching him stare at the hunter with loving eyes with no plans of making a confession. just how long until kinich notices?

notes: got some inspiration lol i finally got kinich a couple of nights ago xD I was so happy, so I started writing this fic for him lol hope you like it! reblog & comments, any feedback is appreciated!

(colored) eyes stared at the back of a certain saurian hunter. he was talking to one of the tribe’s elders. (name) sighed. a longing gaze watching the dendro user walk away with a small bag of mora in his hands, his annoying companion yapping away beside him about any little trait he could use to berate the other. with kinich out of sight, (name) returned to sorting through a box full of gems but another figure blocked his way, startling the young seller.

“you keep staring at him like that, he’ll feel holes burning in the back of his head.” joked the tribe's chief Wayna, a playful smirk displayed on his features. (name)’s cheeks burned, a pinkish hue decorating across them. “c’mon, when are you going to tell him? you’ve been pinning him since the day you came from Inazuma.” wayna added with a tilt of his head and his arms crossed firmly over his chest. (name) glared at him lightly, smacking the chief’s arm while gesturing to shush.

“shut up! you can’t say that aloud.” (name) huffed, walking over to the chief to return to his latest shipment. part of him regretted telling wayna about his secret crush on the dendro hunter. well, more like the older man found out within the first few weeks after (name) arrived in huitztlan and got rescued by kinich and the self-centered dragonlord k'uhul ajaw in a near-death attack by some of the wild saurians. Wayna, of course, teased the inazuman merchant for a while about his little secret crush on the hunter after promising not to spill it out to anyone else, especially on kinich, or worse, ajaw. but wayna was getting a little tired of the electro user just staring at the guy whenever he was around. it had been almost half a year since (name) came to natlan. he was surprised kinich didn’t sense those yearning glances… yet. maybe he already noticed but doesn’t bother looking into it. maybe he didn’t. wayna was curious now.

wayna sighed, shaking his head. “young people these days.” he said, looking over the seller roamed through his shipment. “you two aren’t staying any younger. you should confess, (name).”

“and for what? to get rejected? get made fun of and berated by the oh-so-great dragonlord k’uhul ajaw?” (name) said through gritted teeth, annoyance sipping into his tone. “i’ve rather died in the night kingdom than confess my feelings to kinich.” wayna winced at the last part of (name)’s statement. not wanting to get electrocuted, wayna simply patted (name)’s head and walked away to attend to other matters in the tribe. the merchant clicked his tongue before moving around his little shop to display the new various gems he received from kirara. as he pulled out another small box with more gems stored inside it, (name) noticed a pretty gem that had a familiar color of a familiar pair of eyes. oh, great. now kinich was beginning to affect his line of work. maybe he should confess… but how? no, maybe he shouldn’t. his feelings are only going to get hurt and he would have no choice but to move back to inazuma. archons, his mind tends to be exaggerating.

(name) shook his head. maybe next time. when he has enough courage to confess his pining feelings.

the gem matching kinich’s eyes was too pretty. (name) had no choice but to make it into a bracelet. it looked beautiful. just like kinich. ugh. he just can’t get rid of him. The saurian hunter kept plaguing his mind every day and night. his heart raced at just the mention of his name. (name) frowned. he put the bracelet away in his pockets as he walked down the dirt path leading to the scions of the canopy. he was still a long way from home. (name) had a delivery he needed to do personally, to make the gems the customer asked for delivered safely and he did so by delivering them himself. he should have just hired kirara. it was a long walk. too long.

“you pathetic, lizard-brain worm! you dared tried to defy the almighty dragonlord k’uhul ajaw!? you truly dared to invite the wrath of the almighty dragonlord k’uhul ajaw, a sovereign of the nation of flames!”

(name) paused. he recognized that voice. that aggravating voice. even from this distance, he could feel it getting under his skin. but if ajaw was nearby… does that mean he was too?

biting his lower lip back, (name) debated eavesdropping into their conversation. he shouldn’t but… archons, he sounded like a creep thinking this, he wanted to see kinich. it had been almost a week since he last saw him. it was just a little glance. that’s all.

quietly walking over behind a tree, (name) peeked over the trunk. ah, there he was. standing tall with his arms crossed over his chest, eyes closed as he let ajaw talk his ears off. but it wasn’t just him there. the legendary traveler and their companion paimon were there, too. (name) honestly didn’t pay attention to the other three. His longing gaze was set on the dark-haired dendro user.

wow. how can a human being like him be so pretty and strong-willed?

(name) sighed with a heavy heart and blinked. but when he looked over to where kinich stood, said hunter was gone. oh, no. the other three were still arguing with one another, so where had kinich gone to?

“i’ve seen the way you look at me when you think i don’t notice.” a voice spoke lowly behind him. (name) let out a small, frightened shout at the sudden presence of kinich behind him. his eyes widened. his face flushed brightly. his words quickly registered into his mind before shaking his hands in defend.

“wha-wha-what are you ta-talking about?” (name) cursed mentally for his nervous stutter, his (colored) eyes looked anywhere but at the saurian hunter.

“that longing look in your eyes… noticed it for a while now.” kinich answered, uncrossing his arms as he took a step closer to (name), who instead took a step behind. and they continued for a bit until his back met the tree, kinich never breaking eye contact.

(name)’s brows furrowed, his anxious gaze staring down at the ground beside him. a hand went into his pocket where the bracelet was, trying to see comfort from it.

getting no response back, kinich tilted his head as he leaned his face closer to (name). he was a few inches taller than him, finding the little height difference endearing. “started noticing it after the first month you stayed in the canopy. the way you have this yearning look in your eyes. they’re always set on me. you wouldn’t even flinch whenever i caught your stare.” oh, no. (name) inwardly groaned. he must have zoned out as he stared openly at the claymore wielder. the merchant wanted to dig a hole and died in it out of embarrassment. so kinich knew for half a year. how humiliating.

“i-i didn’t mean to… i’m sorry. i just, um.. I…” (name) was at a loss for words. he was sure his face was as red as those dendrobiums that appeared around the shipwrecks in nazuichi beach. his heart beat so fast, he was afraid it was going to burst out of his chest. part of him hoped so to avoid this worst-case scenario.

kinich shook his head at the unfinished apology. “there’s no need to say that.” he started, his own gaze now looking at the tree behind (name)’s back. “i’ve…been having the same longing look, too… towards you. for a while now.” kinich said, pulling himself together to look into (name)’s eyes, after said seller found the courage to do so too. he stared down at the other with a small intense look in his eyes before shifting his gaze back towards the trio he left behind. “i’m not busy right now. ajaw is busy with a couple of behavioral teachers right now, so… would you like to take a walk back to the canopy?” kinich offered his arm towards (name). The electro user stared at him in shock before smiling timidly, taking his arm in his own.

“that will be lovely.” (name) had a feeling wayna would be too surprised the moment they arrived at the tribe. his smile grew a bit, already feeling the teasing miles away. at the very least, things turned out in a good light, unlike what his overthinking mind had clouded inside his head. (name) was happy with this outcome.

#kinich #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #x reader #kinich x reader #kinich x male reader #x male reader #genshin impact x male reader #primal writes

278 notes · View notes

bookwormjust · 4 months ago

Text

Imagine: An Accident at Dinner with the Inner Circle

Dinner with the Inner Circle was always an event to look forward to—filled with laughter, shared stories, and the warmth of being surrounded by those who had become family. Tonight was no different. The grand dining room of the House of Wind was bathed in the golden glow of candlelight, the long table adorned with an array of dishes that would make any chef proud.

Azriel sat beside you, as he always did, his presence a steady, comforting anchor amidst the lively chatter. His hand rested on your knee under the table, a quiet but constant reminder of the bond you shared. You were mid-conversation with Mor, who was animatedly recounting a tale of her latest shopping spree, complete with exaggerated gestures and laughter.

Across the table, Feyre and Rhysand were locked in a mock argument about who had won their latest training session, while Cassian was trying to convince Amren to try a new dessert. It was a scene of perfect, chaotic harmony—each voice, each laugh, blending into a symphony of camaraderie.

Feyre stood up with a smile, reaching for a large, steaming pot of soup from the center of the table. “Alright, who’s ready for seconds?” she asked, lifting the pot with one hand while balancing her plate in the other. But in her enthusiasm, she misjudged the angle, and the pot slipped from her grasp.

Everything seemed to slow down in that moment. You watched as the pot wobbled, tipping dangerously, and then—before anyone could react—it tumbled forward, the steaming contents splashing across the table. Hot soup splattered everywhere, cascading over plates, cutlery, and worst of all—over you.

The shock of the searing liquid against your skin made you gasp, instinctively jerking back in your chair. The heat was overwhelming, a burning sensation spreading from your lap down to your legs. You could hear the sharp intake of breath from everyone around the table, and Feyre’s horrified gasp as she realized what had happened.

“Y/N!” Feyre’s voice was filled with panic and regret as she reached out, but Azriel was already moving.

Before you could fully register the pain, Azriel was there, his shadows swirling in a frenzy around him. He pulled you to your feet, his eyes wide with a mix of panic and fear that you had rarely seen in him. His hands, those scarred hands that had seen so much pain, moved quickly as he tried to brush the hot soup off your clothes, his touch gentle but hurried.

“Az—” you started, trying to calm him, but his expression stopped you short. There was something deeper there, a shadow of past trauma that flickered in his gaze as he took in the redness spreading across your skin.

His grip tightened slightly, and you felt the tension in his muscles as he fought to control his emotions. You could see the anger simmering beneath the surface—not at you, not even really at Feyre, but at the situation, at the memories it stirred. Azriel’s own burns, the scars that marked his hands, were a constant reminder of pain he had endured alone, and seeing you hurt, even in this small way, pulled those memories to the forefront.

“Feyre, get some cold water!” Rhysand’s voice cut through the tension, his tone commanding but calm. Feyre nodded quickly, rushing to grab a pitcher of cold water from the side table, her face pale with worry.

Azriel guided you away from the table, his movements swift but careful. “We need to cool it down,” he muttered, more to himself than to anyone else, as he took the pitcher from Feyre’s trembling hands and gently poured the water over your lap, trying to soothe the burn.

You winced at the initial contact but nodded, placing your hand over Azriel’s to steady him. “I’m okay,” you said softly, trying to reassure him, but his eyes remained fixed on you, his expression a storm of guilt and fury.

“You shouldn’t have to be hurt,” he whispered, his voice low and tight. “Not like this.”

You squeezed his hand, feeling the tension in his grip, the way his shadows seemed to pulse erratically around him. “Az, it’s okay,” you murmured, reaching up to cup his cheek, trying to pull him back to the present, to remind him that you were here, with him. “I’m okay.”

His jaw clenched, and for a moment, you thought he might lose control—the shadows around him darkening, twisting in response to his turmoil. But he took a deep breath, closing his eyes briefly as he leaned into your touch. Slowly, the storm in his gaze began to subside, the frantic edge fading as he focused on you.

The rest of the Inner Circle hovered nearby, concern etched on their faces. Cassian stepped forward, his voice gentle as he said, “Feyre didn’t mean it, Az. It was an accident.”

Feyre, standing a few steps away, looked on the verge of tears. “I’m so sorry, Y/N,” she said, her voice cracking slightly. “I didn’t mean to—”

You offered her a small, reassuring smile. “It’s okay, Feyre. Really. Just a little hot soup.”

Azriel’s grip on your hand finally loosened, his posture relaxing as he took another deep breath. He glanced at Feyre, his expression softening as he nodded. “It’s alright,” he said, his voice still a little rough around the edges but calmer. “I know it wasn’t on purpose.”

Mor appeared at your side with a cool cloth, gently pressing it to the reddened area on your leg. “Here, this should help,” she said softly, her eyes flicking between you and Azriel with a worried frown.

“Thanks, Mor,” you said, grateful for the cool relief against your skin. You looked up at Azriel, who was still watching you with an intensity that made your heart ache. You reached for him again, pulling him closer so that your foreheads touched, a silent promise between you.

“I’m right here,” you whispered. “And I’m fine. We’re fine.”

Azriel’s eyes closed for a moment as he leaned into you, his breath evening out as he steadied himself. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I just… I can’t stand seeing you hurt.”

You nodded, understanding more than words could express. You knew the scars he carried, both seen and unseen, and how fiercely he protected those he loved—how fiercely he protected you.

Rhysand cleared his throat softly, his voice gentle as he broke the quiet. “Let’s take a break, give everyone a moment to breathe.” He glanced at Feyre, who nodded, still looking a bit shaken.

Azriel helped you to a nearby chair, his hand never leaving yours as he sat beside you. His shadows, usually so composed, still swirled restlessly around his feet, betraying the lingering tension in his mind.

You squeezed his hand, drawing his attention back to you. “I love you,” you said softly, your voice steady and full of certainty. “And nothing’s going to change that. Not a little soup, not anything.”

Azriel’s expression softened, the corners of his lips twitching into a faint smile. “I love you too,” he replied, his voice low but filled with the quiet strength that always made you feel safe. “More than anything.”

As the others began to regroup, offering more apologies and making sure you were comfortable, Azriel stayed by your side, his touch constant and reassuring. And as the evening slowly returned to its usual rhythm, you knew that no matter what happened, you and Azriel would always face it together—scars, shadows, and all.

#azriel x oc #azriel x reader fluff #azriel x you #azriel x reader #azriel x female!reader #azriel fanfic #acotar reader imagine #acotar x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #acotar #azriel acotar #Spotify

392 notes · View notes

kawowoa · 7 months ago

Note

Hey! I just read your latest Toji drabble, I love it. Can you please do smth like this with Sukuna (modern version) and blind reader? Preferably fem, but gn is okay too, up to you!

Hope you having a good day 🩵

info : implied fem. reader, established relationship, sukuna being sukuna honestly but he’s kinda nice, blind!reader, extreme fluff, modern!au, literally just a word dump

a/n : tysm!! i hope ur day is good too anon :33 !!

sukuna who is typically an impatient person but with you? he can wait all day. struggling to read the braille on menu when ordering? he’ll wait patiently for you while glaring at he waiter to do the same.

not to say he still isn’t a menace, it’s sukuna for heavens sake. he knows you memorized the layout of the apartment you two shared, some times he would shift all the furniture just to see you bump into everything with a smug smirk on his face.

sukuna who does anything and everything for you. his favorite thing to do was your hair, he would always put your hair up in pretty styles, describing each one so you can get some sort of idea of what they look like.

“it’s like braids, with bows on the end”

“bows?”

“c’mere, feel them”

speaking of that, he always has you feeling something you’re curious about. whenever it’s a hairstyle or an item he’s talking about or even something on him—emphasis on something on him, he would never admit it out loud, but he loves lying to you that he gotten something new done on his body just as an excuse for you to touch him.

(on many occasions he convinced you to touch a bug with a shit eating grin, laughing loud as hell as you scream at him.)

sukuna who understands you have a sensitivity towards light. always taking you out shopping to add to your collection of sunglasses. he’d lead you into expensive stores under the false guise of it being the cheap store you used to go to before the two of you started dating.

“sukuna! i like these, how much are they?”

“don’t worry about it, put them on. lemme see”

he loves taking pictures of you in your glasses, especially when you couldn’t locate it to stop him. his favorite was the .5 pictures where your forehead and eyes look bigger looking in the general direction of the phone.

sukuna who, no matter how many times you tell him “i have my stick, i can walk on my own y’know?” will always have you holding onto his arm. in public or even when you’re just going to the kitchen.

sukuna who never lets you walk out the house looking crazy. he always picks your outfits out, even secretly making his outfits match with yours .. but he wouldn’t tell you that.

you trust sukuna with his judgement on style. even with how irritating or annoying he can be, he knows you care too much about you’re appearance—he’ll never know why, you can’t even see yourself—sukuna will always make sure you look like the center of attention.

“done. go look in the mirror”

“…sukuna”

“oh right, pfft”

#★ ! fics #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna fanfic #jjk fanfic #jjk x reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #sukuna hcs #sukuna headcanons #ryomen sukuna

281 notes · View notes

tiny-pretty-sana · 10 months ago

Text

gf sana | headcanons

warning: nsfw content (+18), men and minors dni

sfw

sana is a ray of sunshine, the type of person that lights up a room as soon as she gets in

she’s welcoming, warm, and full of energy like having a coffee in a winter morning

she’s a dangerous combination of cute and sexy, she’s aware and she takes advantage of that. she knows exactly what to say and how to act to get her way

sana the type of girl that gets princess treatment without having to ask for it

you get her flowers, open the door for her, give her your jacket, carry her bag and you will do everything it takes to get the plushie she wants at the fair

she is aware of everything you do for her, she appreciates it and gives you all that love back

she is very empathetic. it helps to solve conflicts most of the time, but sometimes it can really affect her to see you upset and she cries with you the same way she celebrates your achievements as if they are her own

she’s an it girl, she’s up to date with the latest fashion trends, likes designer clothes and has an amazing fashion sense. since she's your girlfriend you've started to dress better

she takes you shopping and chooses your outfits on special occasions but her favorite thing is to wear subtle matching outfits with you

her love language is physical touch, so expect a huge amount of skinship

she clings to you, kisses you, hugs you, holds your hand, caresses you, plays with your hair, strokes you… she always has her hands all over you

she doesn’t mind pda to the point it can be too much and you sometimes have to stop her because things can get too cheesy or heated

she showers you with love and she wants everyone to know how much she loves you and how special you are

she posts ig stories of you with cute emojis or texts, photo dumps of your dates and she will randomly bring you up in conversation when you aren’t there

she will ask you to take a lot photos of her when you go on dates

her gifts are always expensive, luxurious, useful and she never misses

sana has a flirtatious personality, it’s something that just comes natural to her. she’s playful, she enjoys teasing you and likes seeing you get nervous but if you respond with the same energy you will have her blushing and giggling

she likes the attention and sometimes she might be flirty with her friends or strangers but you don’t really mind, you know she just likes attention and having a bit of fun

however don’t you dare to flirt with anyone that isn't her because she’s possessive and the jealous type of girlfriend. she’s been clear about that since the beginning and you actually love seeing this side of her

you can easily tell when she's jealous/mad because she looks like she’s about to slit the throat of anyone that gets too close or too touchy with you for her liking with her perfectly done nails

when she's jealous not even her empathy can save you. she won’t say anything, she will give you a cold shoulder until you apologize or convince her that she’s the only one for you

she always sends you mirror photos when she’s in the changing room, when she likes her outfit or when she tries a new make up even if you’re in the same room

when you aren't together she's the type of girlfriend that sends you a bunch of texts with a bunch of emojis and a bunch of exclamation marks

"good morning baby!💟" "have a great dayyy!!!🩷" "have you eaten yet?" "💗💗💗💗💗" "drink water!!! 😡💗" "i miss youuu!!! > < 💗" "good night babyyyy!!! 💖"

nsfw

as someone that expresses her love mostly through physical touch being intimate isn't essential or the center of your relationship, but it's important to her

she likes to make the best of these moments whether they are planned, spontaneous, rushed, soft and slow or fast and rough she will make you feel special, loved, desired, wanted and even worshiped

sana is a passionate, skilled and generous lover

that dangerous mix of cuteness and sexiness is also present in the room she might blush, giggle and cover her face and the next second she's whispering the filthiest things that she wants you to do to her in your ear

when you call her "princess" something just clicks in her brain

she is pretty much a switch in every sense of the word she enjoys bottoming, topping, being in charge and letting you have control

she's possessive, so of course she likes to mark you up and leave hickeys and bites all over your neck and other hidden places. luckily they're subtle enough so they can only be noticed if someone gets a litter too close

sana is usually so touchy that it is hard to tell apart when she is being her usual needy self and when she is just being a brat and is teasing you

casual touches on your thighs, kisses too close to the mouth, glances that undress you, praises that get a little too suggestive…

she's a tease, she likes attention and also praising, so sending you pictures of her cute outfits is not the only thing she does. when you're at work or out with coworkers or friend it's likely that you'll receive pictures of sana in underwear or lingerie if she feels like behaving because if she isn't she will be completely naked doing ungodly poses

she's a kinky girl, open to try new things and isn't shy about it, in fact she has made a few great suggestions that now are part of your routine

her main kinks are praising, degradation, bondage and orgasm control

she loves mix of praising and degradation "you're such a good slut for me, aren't you?" "taking me so well like the little whore you are" "my pretty slut"

she loves when you use the strap on her and she has recently started wearing the strap as well and you can't choose if she is better at giving or receiving

when you're using the strap she loves to do this thing . you lay on your back, she gets between your legs and her hand starts teasing you with strokes on your inner thighs, then she slides a finger between your folds and as soon as she feels your wetness she wraps her lips around the tip of the strap locking her eyes with yours if you're strong enough to look at her

she loves teasing but she hates being teased

if you tease her in an inappropriate place or at an inappropriate time when she can't do anything about it when you finally get home she'll make you sit in a chair in front of the bed and will make you watch while she touches herself

when this happens there are clear rules: 1. you can’t touch her 2. you can’t touch yourself

she is very vocal. she tells you what she wants, where to touch her and how to do it but she also moans without restraining herself and always lets you know how close she is and how good it feels

aftercare is just a long intimate session of cuddles and kisses

#twice headcanons #twice imagines #twice smut #twice sana #minatozaki sana #sana hcs #sana x reader #gg imagines #gg head canons

589 notes · View notes

cloveswifey · 2 years ago

Text

Truth or dare

Parings: Maddy Perez x Fem!Reader

Type: Smut

Words: 1.8k

Warnings: smut, Clit Rubbing, scissoring, lots of kissing, face riding, eating out, choking, explicit Language.

A/n: This is my first smut so please don't hate haha.

Y/N strolled through the aisles of a bustling shopping center, browsing through the latest fashion trends. As she reached for a cute sweater, her phone buzzed, indicating an incoming call. She looked at the screen and smiled; it was her good friend Cassie.

"Hey, Cassie!" Y/N greeted warmly, answering the call. "What's up?"

"Hey, Y/N!" Cassie's voice sounded excited on the other end. "I was wondering if you wanted to sleepover tonight!"

Y/N's eyes lit up, and she couldn't help but grin. "That sounds great, Cassie! Count me in! What time should I come over?"

Cassie replied enthusiastically, "Come over around 7 pm!"

Y/N nodded eagerly, even though Cassie couldn't see. "I can't wait! I'll bring my favorite board games. Oh, and maybe some snacks too."

"Perfect!" Cassie exclaimed. "I'll let Kat and Maddy know. They've been dying for a sleepover too. It's going to be an epic night!"

As the conversation continued, Y/N finished up her shopping and headed towards the checkout counter. They discussed their plans, making sure everything was set for the much-anticipated sleepover. The excitement in their voices was contagious, causing Y/N's anticipation to grow with every passing minute.

Later that evening, Y/N arrived at Cassie's house with a bagful of board games and snacks. The door opened, revealing a beaming Cassie, already wearing her favorite pair of cozy pajamas.

"Y/N, you made it!" Cassie exclaimed, pulling her friend into a warm hug. "Maddy and Kat are in the living room!"

Soon enough they had all gathered in her cozy living room, filled with blankets and pillows, ready for a night of laughter and adventure.

As the night progressed, they found themselves engrossed in the movie "Clueless," but soon enough, their excitement dwindled, and they started itching for something more exciting.

Cassie, being the bold and mischievous one, suggested they play a game of truth or dare. The group agreed, and they huddled together, ready for a night of revealing secrets and daring challenges.

Cassie spun the bottle, and it pointed right at her. Kat wasted no time in coming up with a dare for her. "I dare you to call your sister; Lexi and say the weirdest thing you can think of!"

Cassie's eyes gleamed mischievously as she happily took out her phone and dialed Lexi's number. As the others listened intently, Cassie giggled and proceeded to say the strangest things that came to her mind. Laughter echoed throughout the room as they imagined Lexi's bewildered reactions.

After a few more rounds of truth or dare, it was finally Y/N's turn. "Truth or dare."

"Truth." Y/n replied.

Maddy, feeling curious, couldn't help but ask, "Y/N, have you ever kissed a girl?"

Y/N blushed and shyly replied, "No, I haven't."

As the night wore on, the girls found themselves growing bored of playing truth or dare. Cassie, exhausted from the excitement, had passed out on the couch. Y/N and Maddy were left to their own devices, trying to figure out how to keep the momentum of the evening going.

Just as they were pondering what to do next, Kat's phone buzzed with a message. Curiosity piqued, she picked up her phone and read the message, her eyes widening with surprise. It was from Ethan, asking her to come over.

Unable to contain her excitement, Kat turned to Y/N and Maddy. "Guess what, guys? Ethan just messaged me and asked me to come over! I'm gonna head out for a bit." With a sheepish smile, she got up from her spot and made her way towards the door.

Left alone together, Y/N and Maddy exchanged glances. In Maddy's eyes, a playful spark danced, and she decided to revisit the question she had asked earlier. Taking a deep breath, she looked at Y/N and asked, "You know my question earlier, right?"

Your Pov

You nodded, recalling the question about kissing a girl. Your heart raced slightly, wondering where Maddy was going with this conversation.

Maddy's mischievous smile grew wider as she leaned closer to you and asked, "Would you like to give it a try?"You hesitated for a moment, contemplating the situation.

You slowly nodded and the two girls leaned in, eyes shut as their lips slowly met in the middle.

Maddys lips felt soft against mine as they collided, before slowly pulling away.

Your body went stiff, your breathing caught in your throat. "Relax," she says softly, using her right hand to move a strand of hair out of your face. You exhale, letting yourself loosen up. "Good girl."

Maddy smirked looking into your eyes before leaning in again to capture you into a much deeper kiss. Your lips move together slowly, yet passionately.

You could feel Maddy's warm breath on your cheek as she softly enters her tongue, and your tongues begin to playfully intertwine.

You begin lightly massaging your fingers into Maddy's hair, in which she lets out a small moan in response.

However, the thought of cassie sleeping beside you, quickly brings you back to reality, and you realise that you both may have gotten a bit too carried away.

"Cassie might, wake up," you remind maddy in-between kisses, eliciting a groan from her as she pulls your waist towards her so that your chests were touching.

"No," Maddy hesitates, her desire evident in her attempts to intensify the kiss. She doesn't want to break away, so she starts increasing the speed of your lip movements.

However, you hesitated and suggested, "Why don't we go to the bathroom at least?"

Maddy giggled mischievously and took hold of your hand, leading you towards the Howard's home bathroom.

Upon entering, Maddy swiftly pressed You against the wall and passionately kissed you.

"Now that you've kissed a girl..." Maddy whispered in-between kisses, "what about fucking one." She spoke her hand travelling down to your core, massaging you through the fabric. You let out a whimper in response.

"You like that baby?" Maddy smirked.

"Fuck yes." You moaned out, reaching up to remove your bralette, leaving you in her short flowy skirt.

"No bra?" Maddy chuckled, before connecting your lips once again.

You moaned against her lips as she continued rubbing circles against your throbbing clit.

You felt an orgasm approaching, and you gripped Maddy's shoulder as your thighs trembled. She noticed how close you were and stopped, causing you to pout.

"I wanna taste you." Maddy whispered

"Please." Y/n whimpered, Maddy then snaking her fingers around the hem of your panties, slowly pulling them off.

Maddy reluctantly pulls her bra off, throwing it on the ground, diving down to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses before reaching your breasts and placing her mouth around your nipple.

Your hands travel down to her jeans, and you start to unbutton her pants. She moves your hands and finishes unbuttoning her jeans herself, sliding them off of her and kicking them onto the ground.

Slowly, laying down on the cold floor, bare, Maddy beckons you with a soft whisper, “Come here," lightly pulling your body down. You sat on top of her shyly, your bare pussy resting on her abdomen.

"Pretty pussy." She smirks, before slapping your cunt, causing you to yelp before she leans down and kisses your clit sweetly.

"sit on my face." She demands, putting her hands on your hips and encouraging you to scoot up. You comply, adjusting yourself until your pussy is hovering over her mouth.

You could feel her nails lightly scratching at your waist before she, pushed your hips down and buried her face into your pussy, her tongue swirling against your folds.

You grind your hips against her mouth, looking down to see your skirt covering half her face. She placed her hands under your skirt and on the curve of your ass, guiding you up and down her tongue.

"Fuck... you taste so good," she moans against your clit as she sucks harshly.

"Don't stop!" you cried, your thighs already shaking, she hums against your clit in response, wrapping her arms around your thighs to keep you on her face.

"cum for me." she says, coaxing you through an orgasm. Moans and curse words spill from your lips.

Your body spasms as white flashes before your eyes, everything around you disappearing and pure euphoria consuming your body.

you continue to sloppily ride out your high on Maddy's face, your climax washes over you and she makes sure to catch every last drop of your release. You twitch as she uses her tongue to clean you up.

Maddy quickly turns both of you over, firmly requesting, "give me your leg."

You lift up your leg and she puts it over her shoulder. She positions herself between your legs until your cunts are touching. You moan at the feeling of her warm and wet pussy against yours. She wraps her arm around your leg, her hand making its way around your neck. She slowly starts to grind against you, both of your throbbing clits massaging each others. The whine that falls from her lips surprise you, sending a shiver through your body.

You groan as you feel the rhythm of her movements, your hand moving to cup one side of her waist to steady her. Moans spill from your mouth, the feeling of pure ecstasy tingling through your bodies.

Each motion creates an intense friction between us, causing her to moan loudly as the pleasure intensifies.

She squeezes your neck, causing your eyes to roll back to your head, as you practically melt into her, squirming beneath her touch.

"Fuck, you feel so good against me." she says, looking down and watching the way your cunts slide against each other.

"Fuck-" she spat, her chest rising up and down abnormally fast, throwing her head back and squeezing your neck harder.

"I'm gonna cum." she cried, her clit pulsing against yours.

"Me too." you moaned, closing your eyes.

The amount of pleasure you were experiencing was not like anything you've felt before. You both were practically screaming as you reached reached your climax.

You felt her fluids spill onto your heat, her body quivering as she continues to ride out her high against you. You follow her orgasm shortly after her, shockwaves are sent throughout your body. All to be heard were two wet pussys kissing one another.

She lays down next to you, staring at the celling. Both of you just taking a moment to gather yourselves, trying to catch your breaths. "Holy shit, that was fucking hot." she exhales.

1K notes · View notes

wreckingtickles · 6 months ago

Text

Ruffling Their Feathers

Bakugo and Todoroki are captured by the double-crossing Hawks, and they happen to have the second half of a code he and Dabi want. Hawks has a very... unconventional idea on how to get them to talk.

Characters: Lees Baku + Todo, ler Hawks (minor ler Dabi)

Words: 7,312

Couldn't find a similar picture for Todoroki (I need an archive of MHA characters looking might ticklish), so Bakugo's footer will have to do.

That frown's going away real soon.

Very intense and barely SFW foot tickles below the cut!

“It’s your fault!”

“It’s no one’s fault. We couldn’t have known that there was a traitor in the squad.”

Bakugo and Todoroki’s latest one-sided argument, a staple of their relationship since the provisional license course, was caused by their capture at the hands of the League of Villains.

It had all begun with a typo. They were supposed to be at the agency by 15:15, but the message they received instructed them to be there at 14:15. So they’d arrived just in time to see Hawks download the codes to the heroes’ secret communications channel, only half of which was given to each team.

They didn’t remember much else prior to waking up in that square, empty room, seated side by side facing the door that would usher in who knew what horrors.

The irritation at being taken out so easily was compounded by their inability to access their Quirks, which had them more than a little worried, as did their restraints: their wrists were fitted through two holes in the middle of a set of stocks that also held their ankles, one at either side of their hands, so they were hunched forward with their knees bent. The most concerning part, however, was the fact that on top of every part of their costumes that could be used as a weapon or contain hidden gadgets, their boots had also been removed and each of their toes pulled back and restrained individually, just barely out of reach of their fingers. It didn’t need a genius to surmise that if they couldn’t break out soon, they would be tortured.

Bakugo badly needed someone to blame, and Todoroki was the perfect anvil to his hammer. But the half-and-half hero wouldn’t need to wait for his crabby companion to run out of steam as Dabi and Hawks walked into the room.

“Hello, boys!” said Hawks cheerfully, greeting them as if they’d just come across each other in a shopping center.

“Fuck you, you disgusting two-faced piece of shit!”

“Traitor,” greeted Todoroki.

“I appreciate you’re angry and disappointed, but understand that, from my perspective, your good intentions are getting in the way of true justice,” explained Hawks, mostly to Todoroki, as Bakugo’s barrage of epithets made conversation with him impossible.

Dabi leaned against the wall next to the door, both glaring at Todoroki.

“Now, let me reassure you that your Quirks aren’t gone forever. We only take drastic measures if they’re strictly necessary,” explained the feathered villain.

“Your father will still have a use for you,” uttered Dabi with a venomous grin. “That is, unless we choose to ruin you for good.”

“Come on, Dabi, you catch more flies with honey than with vinegar!��

“And you kill more moths with fire.” A blue flame appeared in his palm, the sight of which finally silenced Bakugo. “So?”

“If my methods don’t work, you’re free to have your way with them,” conceded Hawks. “But I know it will. I tested them. Leave this to me.”

“Forget it. You’re an idiot and you’re wasting everybody’s time. The only reason we’re doing it your way for now is that Shigaraki put you in charge of their interrogation, and that’s only because he doesn’t know about your ridiculous plan.”

“Shouldn’t you have had this discussion before coming in here?” interjected Todoroki.

Dabi glared, taking a step towards Todoroki, who gave a start.

Bakugo gave him the side eye. He shouldn’t be showing fear. But Dabi had stopped his advance, a nonplussed look on his face, while Todoroki kept fidgeting next to Bakugo.

Before Bakugo could wonder what was happening, his head whipped forward with alarm as he felt something on his right foot. A light, insistent pressure moving up his sole, heel to toes, then back down. He hafted in place, but no matter how much he stretched his fingers, he couldn’t even reach his toes.

What was that?!

“As I was saying,” resumed Hawks, stepping closer to the captives, wings beginning to unfurl, “I need the second half of the code for the agency’s comms, and you guys will give it to us.”

“Or?” spat Bakugo, Todoroki growing more restless next to him. He saw a red feather detach itself from the top of Hawks’s left wing and fly through the air towards him, specifically towards his left foot, where it began to move erratically, dragging its plumes across his arch. But even though Bakugo now understood what the pressure on both of his soles was, it didn’t click for him until Hawks said, “I’ll tickle it out of you.”

Bakugo should have been relieved. They weren’t going to hurt them, at least for the time being. But all he could feel was outraged, outraged that Hawks seriously thought that they’d sell out the pros over something so childish, so insignificant. “Are you fucking kidding me?! Just because it’s so easy for you to sell out, do you really think--"

And then he heard it. A chuckle. Not from Hawks, not even from Dabi. From Todoroki. To his left, Todoroki was jerking his legs, his face scrunched in an attempt to stifle an obvious smile and the sounds of mirth that were trying to spill out of his mouth.

Bakugo felt betrayed for the second time that day. “You gotta be shitting me.”

Todoroki could feel every plume, every tiny barb on the tip of each of those two feathers as it bent to fit the curve of his sole, dozens, hundreds of them being dragged up and down the bottom of his straight, slim feet.

Hawks smirked while Dabi looked transfixed, almost as speechless as Bakugo. “Well, well, look at Endeavor’s prized spawn now,” he commented as he allowed the corner of his lip to curl up ever so slightly.

“Dude, for real?!” whined Bakugo, but Todoroki couldn’t answer, as he kept squirming and whipping his head side to side, his eyes scrunched shut.

“I, I cahan’t h-hehelp it!” whine the half-and-half hero, instantly regretting trying to speak as he had to double his efforts to prevent any even more embarrassing sounds from coming out. Having grown up with a criminally abusive father and having been separated from his siblings, the only person who had tickled him for most of his life was his mother, and a long time had gone by since the last time. Then, when he began attending UA, first Deku and then Kirishima allowed Todoroki to discover that he was, in fact, still ticklish, and very much so, as if he had never been inured to it, which also led to another crucial difference between him and Bakugo: while the latter wouldn’t allow himself to laugh unless his very worst spots were targeted (though his poker face was terrible), Todoroki was completely unable to cope with the sensation and stifle his reactions.

And the two feathers were barely trying at all.

“Your ‘method’ doesn’t seem to be working on the other one,” observed Dabi. Sure, watching Endeavor’s son squirm from something so silly was entertaining, but they were supposed to move out as soon as Shigaraki called them, and to have the information by then.

“Of course it doesn’t fucking work, who do you think you’re dealing with?!”

Hawks shrugged. “I can also do this.”

“Like this stupid fucking thing is going to work oHOn--!”

Bakugo bit his tongue when the plume ends of the feathers were replaced by their sharp quills.

“That silenced him? Good,” remarked Dabi.

“D-Don’t be an idiot, t-this is nothing!!” protested Bakugo, wincing when the feathers scratched at the ball of his foot.

Next to him, Todoroki went on eeping with his eyes scrunched shut. He didn’t have so strong an opinion as Bakugo on which method was worse yet, but both were proving quite effective, especially when the feathers trailed up and down his arches.

“I think you heard him,” Dabi told Hawks, suddenly appearing a lot more into it than before.

“I sure did,” claimed Hawks as he grinned at Bakugo a moment before a flock of feathers flew off his wings and swarmed the captives’ soles.

“TCH!!” escaped Bakugo’s lips, his cheeks puffed up and becoming a deeper shade of red every second.

Todoroki skipped the giggling phase entirely. “Noahahahahahahahahahahahahhaaha!!!! Iihihihhihit tihihihicklehehehehehsss!!!!” he protested, a surprisingly innocent expression of mirthful suffering on his face that would have melted anyone’s heart. Anyone’s, but his current tickler’s.

“You really should have kept your mouth shut,” commented Dabi as he shot the beet-red, thrashing Bakugo an amused grin, voicing Todoroki’s thoughts while the trainee was too busy failing to cope with the onslaught of sensation.

Hawks was thorough. There was a feather sawing between the heroes’ toes and swiping at the stems, while the tip of another ran left and right across their base. There was a quill scratching at the center of the ball and spiraling outward and another outlining the underside. Plumes teased the inner part of the instep while another feather ran up and down the arch, and two more focused on the heel and its conjunction with the arch.

The feathers on Bakugo’s feet all used their quill end, save for the ones sawing between his toes, while the ones working Todoroki over mixed and matched approaches. It was the weirdest and most humiliating display of masterful control over one’s Quirk that either trainee had ever experienced.

Unbridled laughter spilled forth from Todoroki, the variety of methods and the multiplicity of spots under fire subjecting him to a sensation that he’d only started to reacquaint himself with a few months prior thanks to his classmates, who’d been delighted to discover that the serious golden child was super ticklish and didn’t know how to handle it in the slightest.

His left foot was proving to be once again more sensitive than the right, though even just the latter would have been enough to turn him into a hysterical mess. The colder sole was not as vulnerable to the plumes as the left, upon which plumes and quills wreaked twinned havoc.

Seeing the trainee writhe like he was experiencing actual torture sparked a miasma of disgust in the pit of Dabi’s stomach. “Endeavor’s son just gave up, uh,” he mocked. “I’m kind of disappointed.” Yet the amused twinkle in his eye gave the lie to his bored tone.

“He really laughs like he’s never been tickled before,” chuckled Hawks, effortlessly multitasking while putting the two aspiring heroes through their paces. “Guess his home life wasn’t the best. Well, we’re going to make him real happy unless he fesses up.”

The miasma began to lift as Dabi contemplated Todoroki’s helplessness in the face of the ridiculous torment. But if his laughter sparked conflicting feelings of contempt and morbid fascination in the villain, Bakugo was far less ambivalent about how he felt about it.

He loathed it. He truly did. He wanted to punch the hero for letting those degenerates think that… that preposterous, humiliating method would work. Todoroki’s hilarity was peer-pressuring him into giving in as well, surrendering to the overpowering invitation of the over a dozen quills searing his nerves, loosening the locks on his lungs and lips from which a cacophony of grunts, snorts, and even embarrassing yelps slipped out, but no laughter, no, no laughter, it if was the last thing he did!!

What Dabi and Hawks saw was an extremely ticklish guy bellowing and writhing like he was being electrocuted.

“He really hates it,” deadpanned Dabi.

Having an already solid grasp on what made the short-fused trainee tic despite having known him for a few days only, Hawks took that chance to say, “I don’t know if I should be impressed that he’s not laughing his head off despite being so ticklish, or pity him for thinking that he’s fooling anyone.”

“KKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!! GHHHHHHHH!!! SH-SHHUUUUUUUTTT-- NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!” Nope, no talking.

Hawks’s smirk grew a little wider. It’d be so easy to crack him. But… “It would be healthier if you let it out, you look like you’re about to pop a vein,” he recommended as he had his feathers move slightly faster. Dabi didn’t notice the shift except through the rise in pitch in Todoroki’s laughter and Bakugo’s pointless struggling growing even more desperate.

If only they could reach their feet, shield them from the pesky feathers, they were right there, just out of reach!!

Suddenly, the tickling slowed down. None of the feathers left their post, but they eased up enough that the terribly ticklish captives would be able to understand Hawks’s next words.

“M-Motherf--" Bakugo tried to say while catching his breath, allowing some of his contracted muscles to relax, but he couldn’t risk getting the entire word out.

Todoroki’s laughter decreased to a steady stream of breathless giggles. The tears at the corners of his half-closed eyes, the blush on his cheeks, the forced yet carefree-looking smile… Hawks had to admit that he looked precious.

“Now, let’s practice loosening your tongues a little,” Hawks started, pacing around them like a drill sergeant. “I assume neither of you wants to spill the beans yet?”

Bakugo lunged at him with a bite, but Hawks was out of reach.

“Baby steps. So I’ll make you an offer. If you tell me where it tickles the most I promise I will be nice…r.”

Dabi quirked an eyebrow. Really?

Hawks nodded back confidently, stopping in front of the two trainees. “You don’t want me to find out on my own.”

Bakugo and Todoroki glared as well as they could under their present circumstances.

“Any takers?” Hawks asked nonchalantly.

Even Todoroki made a show of clenching his jaw, although sputtering giggles soon leaked out.

“Too bad,” sighed Hawks. “For you, I mean.”

Without warning, the eight feathers tormenting each foot converged on the heel, scribbling madly at and all around the mound.

“Nohohoht agahahahahaahhaahinnn!!!” giggled Todoroki, his shoulders rising and falling as he tried and failed to pull his feet back through the stocks, scrunch up his soles, cover them with his hands, anything.

“TCH! F-Fuhuck t-thihis!!!” snarled Bakugo, his restlessness mirroring Todoroki’s but with a more irate tinge.

“Hey Dabi, wanna compare and contrast?” asked Hawks.

“Leave me out of it.”

“I thought Todoroki was the most ticklish of the two, but I’m not so sure anymore,” said Hawks, knowing how to push Bakugo’s buttons.

“GGGGGGGGGGGRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!”

“I can’t really tell. Let’s try the arch.”

The avian congregation climbed a little higher, up the slope of the arch. About half of the feathers harassing Todoroki switched to sawing their plumes up and down his arch, left and right, while Bakugo, whom Hawks knew to be less responsive to this method, got the full sixteen quills.

“Ohohohohohoh nohohoOOOOOOOOOHOHOHOHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAAHA!!! NOOOOHAHHAHAHAAT THEHEHEHEHEHHEHEHEREEEEE!!!”

Todoroki’s giggling once again morphed into full-blown laughter, the loudest as of yet. Though the strength behind his attempts to break free seemed to have waned before, he redoubled his futile efforts, pulling at his wrists and ankles as if it would save him, or somehow make the sensation more bearable.

“Looks like I’ve found a sweet spot,” gloated Hawks, but he wasn’t content with that apparent victory. He carefully observed Todoroki’s body language, noticing that every few seconds, he would lean to the right, until his energy ebbed and he slumped forward again, only to repeat the maneuver moments later as the feathers completed another pass. He didn’t seem to be trying to lean closer to Bakugo, no, there was something else… afoot. And Hawks thought he knew exactly what that was.

But that wasn’t all that he noticed. Bakugo had lowered his head, no doubt to prevent the villains from seeing his expression - as if his body wasn't eloquent enough. That position would only hinder his breathing, depleting his stamina faster and making it even harder to endure a prolonged attack. Hawks wondered if he was even aware of the high-pitched whine, like the wind-up to a scream, that he was emitting as he desperately tried to keep his mouth closed. But the most interesting part was how Bakugo would occasionally freeze up for a moment when the quills hit the very top of the arch, only for him to kick with both legs an instant later.

Hawks tested his theory by having the feathers linger on that spot a couple of seconds longer than they did during previous passes. Sure enough, Bakugo’s purple face shot up for a moment, the curses he wanted to utter dying into a defeated growl.

Hawks knew he could have broken him simply by staying there, but he had a flair for the dramatic. So he moved the feathers to the center of the arch, renewing Todoroki’s hysterical fit, before abruptly moving all the feathers to the balls of the heroes’ feet.

Bakugo’s head shot up again, this time to hurl a fiery glare at Hawks, equal parts incredulity and betrayal, but really, a recognition that breaking had always been inevitable.

“Three…” chanted Hawks, smiling at Bakugo, whose face looked like it was about to burst open.

“Tw--"

“FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHCCCCCKKKKKKKK!!!! IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIILLLLL KIIIIIHIHIHIILLLL YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOUHUHUHUHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAAAA!!”

“Oh wow. When he breaks, he breaks hard,” remarked Hawks, pretending to cover one of his ears. Dabi ignored him, though he caught him sneaking glances at Todoroki, whose hysteria was eclipsed by the violence with which Bakugo’s damn had burst, but ever-present nonetheless.

There was no overselling the all-encompassing loathing that Bakugo felt at that moment, having fallen short of his own self-serving standards. It simply did not compute that a traitor who had everything Bakugo wanted would torture them in such a childish way, and that Bakugo would be unable to shrug it off.

The quills pricked and scratched at the sensitive pads, with a special regards for the very center as Hawks had immediately figured out it was one of the most sensitive parts, lavishing plenty of attention on the underside too, the perfect recipe to keep the resentful laughter flowing.

“FUUUUUUUUUUAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHCCKKK!!! YOHOHOUUHUHUHU BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASTAHAHAHAHARD!!! ILL KIIIIII-- STOOOOOHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAAPPPP THAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHATTTT!!!”

“This is great,” chuckled Hawks.

“You’re weird.”

Hawks shrugged. “Eh, it’s just fun to take them down a peg. Especially that one. Hey, are you laughing too hard to hear me? ‘Cause later, we’re spending plenty of time on that spot that you seem to like so much.”

Sadly, Bakugo could hear him, but any retort he tried to cook up got swallowed by the involuntary gales that those tiny, harmless feathers kept pumping out of him.

Though the journey from the ball of his foot to the toes was a very short one, Bakugo could tell Hawks was trying to drag it out as much as possible, slowly dragging the quills as well. There was an understanding that he wasn’t done.

The feathers then began sawing between and across the trainees’ toes. This method proved especially effective on Todoroki, the obvious jolt running through him confirming that that was a more sensitive spot than the ball, so Hawk kept five feathers per foot swishing between and along his toes while three more scratched at the base, occasionally poking the tips too.

But Hawks knew that he could do better with Bakugo, so he kept one quill poking and scribbling under the base of each toe, with the plume end of just one feather swishing across the stems, one quill planted firmly in the center of his big toe, and one more poking each of the other tips in turn.

The trainees didn’t have the chance to marvel at Hawks’s unmatched coordination, the combination of precision and effectiveness he was unleashing on them, but they certainly did feel its effects.

“Hahahaha HAHAHAAHAH!!! Nohohohohhoho moHOHOHohohahahahahaharrEHEHEHEHE!!! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHhahaahahahahahahhaahahahahahahahaha!!!” pleaded Todoroki, ticklish tears pouring down his cheeks and collecting on his seat between his legs. He felt as if he’d been abducted by aliens, unable to comprehend what was happening to him or why. Part of him probably felt embarrassed, but the shock, the absurdity of it all, removed his ego from the equation, leaving him alone before a sensation he’d only experienced a handful of times through his classmates, and through his mother so many years prior.

Bakugo wasn’t faring that much better. He was naturally louder than Todoroki, but for the first time in his life, he was trying to keep it down, and failing. Hawks couldn’t have devised a better method to tickle that area.

“HAHAHahahaahahahahaha!!! FIHIHIHIHght mehehEHEHEHE liiiihihihiKEEEHEHEH AAHAHAHA maaaahahahahahahahAAAAAHAHAHAHANNN!! OHOHOHO hahahahahahaha!!!”

“You want to fight me?” Hawks snickered. “I don’t fight widdle tickly babies.”

“SHHUUUUUUHAHAHAHAHAT!! UUHUHUUHAHAHAHAHAHHAPPP!!!!”

Oh, the sheer frustration Bakugo felt at his own ticklishness preventing him from discharging his anger was immense, but the imposed hilarity sapped even that.

Hawks walked around to his side. “It tickles less than before, right? I’m sure you can stop laughing if you really try. Come on!”

Bakugo was trying, he was trying so hard, and Hawks’s mockery messed even more with his concentration. But the genie was out of the bottle.

“HaahahahaHAHAHAHAHAH!!! ………….PPPPPPPPPPPFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!! HAHAHAahaahahahahahaha!!! NNNNNNNNGGGggggghhhhhh…………. ggggghAHHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!”

Hawks began to circle around them, removing his black leather gloves as he did so. “Remember that this all will stop if you give me the code.”

He stopped in front of the stocks, throwing his gloves to Dabi, who reflexively caught them in mid-air and then dropped them.

He wiggled his fingers mere inches away from their feet. He waited long enough for them to see it, his left hand approaching Bakugo’s left sole, his right nearing Todoroki’s right, only to drift further to the side, to the left sole he’d determined to be more sensitive.

“Don’t forget, this hawk has talons too.” And he struck.

Dabi nearly gave a start as the room got a lot louder than he’d expected.

“NOOOAHAHAHAHAHHAHAAHHAHAHAAAAAAA!!! IHIHIHIHIHITT TIHIHIHHICKLEHEHEHESSSS!!! DOOOHOHOHAHAHAHAHHAAHAHN’T!!!”

“SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIHIHIHIHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHTTT!!! KEEHEHEHP YOUHUR FUHUHUHUHCKING HAHAHAHAHANDS… NAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA!!!”

True to his word, Hawks had chosen violence. His short, dull nails scratched expertly at the ball of Bakugo’s foot and at the arch of Todoroki’s, having identified them as their weakest spots.

The volume and desperation of their laughter was all the confirmation he needed.

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAH!!! STAAAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHPPP!!! YOUHUHUHHUHU CAHAHAHAHAAAAHAHAHAHANNN’T!!! HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA!!!”

“BWAHAHAHWHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! IHIHIHHILL KIHIHHHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA!!! CUHUHUT THAHAHAHAHAT OOOOOHUHUHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHA!!! I SAHAHAHAHD-- NAHAHAHAHAHAHHHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA!!!”

The feathers didn’t remain idle either. He left five on Todoroki’s right foot to complement the motions of his fingers, so they’d target his toes when he was busy with the arch, and the arch when he was busy with his toes, while the eleven on the left flitted back and forth between those two spots, skidding up and down the ball as well as they changed posts.

Hawks was no kinder to Bakugo, his wiggling fingers focusing on the ball and the base of his toes together with three feathers. The remaining fifteen ravaged the same two spots on his right foot, especially the center and underside of the pad. Naturally, all used their quill end.

It was pinpoint torment neither trainee knew how to deal with, Hawks’s dexterous touches appearing to raise the temperature and depleting their stamina and sanity alike while they felt their dignity slowly but sonorously leak out in the form of laughter they couldn’t control, the traitor having completely hijacked their ability to express themselves.

“As you can see, I’m a man of my word,” began Hawks. “Am I not?”

“EHEHEHHNOHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHGH!!! PLEHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHASEEE!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!”

“HAHAHAHAHAHAH!!! GHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAAHHAHAHHA!!! FUHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHCK!!!”

“You gotta say it if you want me to stop. I’m a man of my word, am I not?”

Todoroki wasn’t completely opposed to indulging villains in case it made them complacent, while Bakugo’s ego was bound to get in the way of any concession. However, Todoroki’s reply was not the result of a calculation, but mere reflex.

“HAHAHAHAHHAHA!!! YEEEHAHAHAHAHAHHASSSS!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAAAA!!!”

“He needs to say it too,” hummed Hawks, nodding his head toward Bakugo while his fingers picked up the pace.

Bakugo too was operating on reflex alone, and his instincts were inimical to their predicament.

“GHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA!!! EHEHEHEHHAT SHHAHHAHAHAAHHAAHT!!! FUUHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAAHHAHHAHAHAHACCCK!!!!”

“You hear that, Todoroki? My hands are tied. Well, yours are. And your feet too. Which makes it so easy for me to do this,” he explained as the feathers also began to move faster and the motions of his hands grew more unpredictable.

Todoroki all but howled. “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA!!! BAHAHAHAHAHAAHKUUUUGOHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!! PLEAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHASEEE!!!”

“SHIHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAATTTTT!!! FUHAHAHAHAHAHAHCKIHIHING TRAHAHAHAHAHITAHAHAHAHHAAR!!! STAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAPPP!!!”

“Listen to your friend. Help him help you.” His nails moved to the ball of Bakugo’s right foot, the feathers instantly moving to compensate.

Bakugo arched his back with such force the stocks creaked. “GYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAAH!!! SHIHIHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHTTT!!!! STAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAAAPP! YOOOHUHU GOOHAHAHAHAHAHTTTTAAAAA STOHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAPPP!!”

“I don’t gotta do anything. Say it. I’m a man of my word.”

“NAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHA!!!!”

“Suit yourself. I’ll try again in 10 more minutes.”

The horror in their teary eyes and strained laughter was instantly apparent.

“SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAAT!!! YEEEEEEAHAHAHAHAHAHAHSSSS!!! YOHAHAHAHAH AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHHAAHHAHHAHAREEEHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! GHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!! STAHAHAHAHHAHAHAP STAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAPPP!!!”

And Hawks did. He stepped away from them while the feathers floated to a safer distance.

The trainees heaved and panted, their lungs burning and their throats parched, Bakugo slumped backwards, Todoroki forward as if he was collapsing in on himself.

“This is pathetic. The whole thing,” remarked Dabi.

Hawks shrugged. “I don’t enjoy needless violence. And pathetic or not, it seems to be working wonders.”

“If - no, when you fail and Shigaraki hears this is how you’ve been wasting our time…”

“I won't fail. Just look at them,” claimed Hawks, though one corner of his smile was frozen. He clapped his hands, addressing the flushed heroes again. “Now, listen close. I’m going to start tickling you again soon.”

Bakugo winced and shot a feeble glare at hawks, a pitiful attempt to disguise fear as intimidation, while Todoroki’s shoulders slumped as he prepared himself for the inevitable.

“That’s the stick. Now, here’s the carrot. I’ll stop tickling whichever of you gives me the code. The other gets these,” he announced as he began to rummage in his costume, a ruse to give both trainees time to focus on him once again and grew more apprehensive.

He then pulled out two mundane items: a fork, and Bakugo’s orange hairbrush.

“I got these while I was waiting for Dabi,” he said, moving the two items slightly, the trainees’ eyes following them with wariness. Too easy.

“The one who spills the beans doesn’t have to find out how much they tickle. The other…”

He put the two tools back inside his utility belt.

“Anyone got anything to say?”

Bakugo and Todoroki looked at each other. Todoroki looked like he’d been running for an hour, endurance having never been his strong suit, but Bakugo begin to wonder whether he would actually cave. There was something in the half-and-half hero’s stare, some kind of request maybe. He couldn’t be about to come clean, could he? Or… was he trying to encourage him to resist?

The thought made Bakugo’s blood boil even though a rivulet of sweat already drenched the back of his costume. Did Todoroki really think that he might call it quits? That he was that weak?

But Bakugo didn’t have the energy to fight, so he just averted his gaze, fixing it on the stocks on the other side of which were his all too tender feet and useless hands.

Hawks tutted. “Too bad. Hawks, would you set a 10-minute timer? We’re getting serious now.”

He didn’t give the trainees time to brace themselves before striking.

His fingers got to work on the same spots as before, though he targeted Todoroki’s right foot rather than his left, and the sixteen feathers he’d been using on each trainee struck at every vulnerable part of that same foot as two horrifying new implements joined the interrogation: Hawks’s wings.

Todoroki shrieked. The amalgamation of feathers which Hawks could animate at will was an ebullient blanket of ticklishness, the plumes coming alive to tease the entirety of Todoroki’s sole in an all-encompassing attack that effortlessly reached between his toes and the sides and even the top of his foot as well. Hundreds or thousands of feathers, exponentially more barbs, and Todoroki could feel them all.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!”

Hawks had threatened the trainees with the hairbrush and fork, but he knew his wing would be just as if not more devastating to the criminal No. 1’s son. He also stiffened the feathers of his left wing since Bakugo was not as sensitive to light touches, and he lacked the bandwidth to remotely control any more feathers without sacrificing accuracy…

Which is why, not even a minute in, the hawk turned 90° and swished at Todoroki’s soles with both wings, while both of his talons pounced on the balls of Bakugo’s feet.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“GYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!!! YOU FUHAHAHAHAHHAHACKHEHEHHEHR THAHAHAHAT’S UNFAAFAFAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!”

Bakugo’s unprecedented cackling was met with Todoroki falling into a choked silence. Sensory overload.

Not even that was able to shut Bakugo up, but the dedicated fingers, accompanied by the sixteen that had been hounding him for a while plus the extra sixteen that migrated over from Todoroki, melted his protests into desperate incoherence, about half the quills matching the movements of Hawks’s fingers to crowd his weakest spots as much as possible.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!! NAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHA!!! YOOOOOOOHUHUHUHUHU!!!! SHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!! IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-- I CAAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!! HAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAAHHAAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!”

Despite what he’d told Dabi, Hawks couldn’t believe how well the two trainees were responding. He was relieved that this harmless method might actually buy him enough time. He just hoped--

Todoroki’s own laughter returned as a whine, which only served to remind Hawks to divide his attention more equally between the two of them. Though by virtue of being the only one he could see from his position, Bakugo was bound to get the shorter end of the stick. He could stand to be taken down a peg, Hawks told himself as he looked into the young hero’s bulging, tear-filled eyes, fractured babble interspersing the hysterical peals.

Those eternal ten minutes weren’t simply meant to break them, no. Hawks’s Quirk wasn’t merely about moving his feathers: he could feel through them. He noticed that Todoroki’s left foot was warmer than usual, and his right colder, which gave him an idea; and he also noticed that Bakugo’s feet were getting damper and slicker the more he tickled him, which gave him another. He’d keep them safe from Dabi even if he had to tickle them into unconsciousness to do it.

“Time’s up,” muttered Dabi, more invested than he’d ever admit.

“Is it? Eh, I’ll just keep going,” yelled Hawks to give the trainees a chance to hear him. Todoroki let out something that vaguely sounded like a sob, while Bakugo was too preoccupied with the fingers and feathers to respond.

But when he noticed Dabi getting more impatient, Hawks did finally take a step back and allowed the trainees to breathe. Their chests heaving, their hair weighed down by perspiration, the fight had been tickled out of Bakugo, while Todoroki looked like he was about to pass out from exhaustion.

“You know, I’ve gone about this all wrong,” he announced. “Dabi, I’m going to need your help.”

“Forget it.”

“I need your Quirk.” He pointed his thumb at Bakugo, who made an effort to listen and was rewarded with a shiver. “I need you to keep his feet close to the fire.”

“Finally,” huffed Dabi as he began to stride toward Bakugo, who recoiled in horror.

“You aren’t hurting him. There’s one last thing I want to try,” explained Hawks. “See, I remember that his Quirk is based around sweat, and he seems to keep getting more ticklish over time. So I just need a little bit of heat.”

“You’re joking.”

“They’re about to cave, and I’ll give you all the credit. By the way, I suspect your Quirk would also do wonders on his right side,” he added, pointing at Todoroki this time.

“Unbelievable,” scoffed Dabi. Yet, sure enough, two small blue flames appeared in his palms. Bakugo winced.

“Farther,” commanded Hawks. Dabi rolled his eyes, but complied again.

It was warm, very warm, but not painful. Bakugo had followed a word in three, but he knew he shouldn’t be too happy about the heat displacing the phantom tickles that still tormented his soles.

“Now, where was I? Right. I’ve gone about this all wrong, because there’s two of you, and one code. I’ve been splitting my attention, but I only need to break one of you. So…”

He rested a hand on the top of Todoroki’s shoulder, the exhausted hero regarding him with… Bakugo hadn’t expected it, but there were embers of defiance left in Todoroki’s alarmed scowl.

“I’m going to focus on you, and only you, until one of you fesses up or, frankly, you pass out. Would be a first, but I kind of want to see that. And if that happens, luckily we have a spare.”

“You’re not… going to get… away with this,” panted Todoroki. Bakugo had definitely underestimated him.

Hawks gave him an empty smile. “You’d better hope I do, ‘cause if I don’t, Dabi gets to have fun with you, and he likes his meat well done.”

He clapped a hand on Todoroki’s back, who recoiled under his touch. “If you’re worried about saving face, maybe your friend will speak up for you. He looks like the empathetic kind,” jested Hawks.

Todoroki glanced at Bakugo, currently in the process of glaring at Dabi. He took a deep breath to brace himself.

Hawks walked around him, a solid half of each wing detaching itself and floating to the other side of the stocks. “Last chance,” he whispered in Todoroki’s ear.

“Drop dead,” spat Todoroki.

So Hawks struck. Not with the feathers, however. No, while Todoroki was distracted by the wings positioning themselves right in front of his feet, the tips of the feathers already grazing his soles, Hawks’s hands slipped under Todoroki’s jacket and find purchase in the skin of his sides underneath.

Bakugo saw a look of utter bewilderment cross Todoroki’s face before hysteria overwrote his features completely.

“HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! THAHAHAHHAHAT’S NOHOHOT… OH MY HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHA!!! THAHAHAHAHAT’S NOHOHOOOOHOHOT FAAAAAAHAHAHHAHAAIIIRR!!!” he screamed, accidentally echoing Bakugo.

“I thought I remembered this!” said a self-satisfied Hawks. “Two for two, uh? Man, did the doctors just take the two most ticklish halves of you and glued them together?” he teased as his fingers kept kneading into Todoroki’s swimmer-like flanks, the thumb pressing deep into the soft tissue and discovering the muscle underneath that stretched all the way to his toned stomach.

“GHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! STAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHPPP!!! EHEHEHEHENOOOOOOOOOOOOOAHHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHGHHH!!!”

He squirmed in his seat with newfound vigor, though he wasn’t getting away from Hawks’s prying fingers, sometimes digging hard into his sides, sometimes gently brushing his nails up and down. He leaned so hard to the left that for a moment Bakugo worried he might dislodge his shoulder.

“Look at you trying to squirm away,” cooed Hawks. “Is it because your right side is more sensitive? I think it is. Let’s see if I can find another jackpot up here on the left side,” he continued as he began clawing at the left side of Todoroki’s stomach ,who sucked it in and remained breathless for a moment, but just a moment before laughter poured out again.

“Umh, maybe a bit better, but not a homerun… How about here?”

He spidered his fingers up and down the trainee’s ribcage, a view that despite being partially concealed by Todoroki’s jacket, which rode up to show the lower part of his stomach, caused Bakugo to instinctively lean forward to shield his own ribs with his elbows.

Todoroki’s laughter was still positively frantic as Hawks’s other hand never left his right side, but he didn’t seem satisfied. “Maybe here?” he ventured as he pushed his fingers further up, squeezing his way into Todoroki’s damp underarm.

The trainee recoiled.

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHHAAHAHHAHAAHT THHHHHHHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEHEHEHHEHEHHAHAHAHAHAHAAHRRREEEEE!!! TOOOOOOHOHOHOH!!! GHAHAHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHHAAHAHAHAHAH!!!”

“And here it is!” gloated Hawks, Todoroki trying to clamp down his arms and only succeeding in trapping the offending fingers where he really didn’t want them.

“HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA!!! HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!! HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHHAAHAHHAAHHAHAHAAHA!!!”

“That’s close enough, I’d say!”

“You’ll pay for this,” hissed Bakugo, undeterred by the heat that lapped at his soles, making them more sensitive by the minute.

Without looking away from his handiwork, Hawks retorted, “You should worry about you, because I think he’s about to get smart.”

“NAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA!!! IIIIIIIIIIII WOOOHOHOHOHN’T TEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEHEHEHHEHEHEHLLL!!! STAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA PLEEEEEEEEEEEEEAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHSEEEE!!!”

“What use is begging? You know what I want. Or maybe you’re asking for more?”

“GHAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHA!! NOOOOOOOOOOOOAHAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAH PLEEEEHAHAHAHAHAHAHSE PLEEEEHAHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAASE!!!”

“I have been neglecting your feet, that’s true. I think they’re feeling lonely.”

“NAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!! NOOOOOOOOOHAHAHAHAHAHT THEHEHEHEHEHEHRE TOOOOOOOOOHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAH!!!”

“Well, they shall cry no longer! Here I gooo!” exclaimed Hawks as his severed wings fully enveloped Todoroki’s feet.

Bakugo saw Todoroki whip his head to the sky, a lunatic grin frozen on his face, eyes bulging and dripping with tears, and gently swaying back and forth in that position without even being able to make a single sound.

Insane. He looked insane. Driven to insanity by fingers and a bunch of feathers. Bakugo couldn’t believe it. He even considered giving them the code for a fleeting moment out of concern for his… classmate. But he couldn’t, Todoroki wouldn’t have wanted him to either.

But even deeper at the back of his mind, there was a reminder, a reminder that if Todoroki passed out, or that if he confessed, then Bakugo would be next.

Dabi was also staring unabashedly. He couldn’t wrap his head around it. Something that childish, tearing down Endeavor’s heir like that. His fingers itched.

Todoroki wasn’t even aware of the fingers tormenting his upper body or the feathers that had taken total hold of his feet. It was as if the sensation had seeped deep into his core, and from there had radiated outward, breaking down his sense of self and severing his mind from his body to keep it afloat in an ocean of overwhelming giddiness. Later, he wouldn’t even recall whether he’d laughed in the end or not.

He just remembered his consciousness resurfacing at one point, and uttering the six fabled digits as if in a dream.

“NO!!” screeched a costernated Bakugo.

“Thank you kindly,” said Hawks as he stepped away from Todoroki and called back his feathers. “Way to confirm the code, by the way,” he told Bakugo.

But as he was making his way toward the exit…

“Wait.”

Dabi was holding up his burner phone. “It’s not time for our meet-up yet. And I seem to recall you’re a man of his word,” he said, eyeing Bakugo.

Hawks stopped. “I am,” he conceded as he walked towards Bakugo, whose heart was sinking into his stomach for an additional reason now.

“Don’t you fucking get any closer!” warned Bakugo without anything to back up his threat, his implicit plea.

“Won’t you get bored?” Hawks asked Dabi, ignoring his cursing target.

“I’ll manage. His right side is the ice one, right?” he asked as Dabi stopped between Todoroki and Bakugo, reaching one hand on the other side of the stocks. “I want to see fire and ice mix,” he stated before making his fingers slightly warmer and jolting Todoroki out of his stupor.

But Bakugo was unable to pay him any mind, transfixed by Hawks’s single finger inching closer and closer to his left sole. It curled gently.

“FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFU--” exploded out of Bakugo, any hope of rebuilding his façade thanks to the break flying out of the window as that one finger made him acutely aware of how much more impossibly sensitive the heat had made him.

Hawks went on scratching delicately, bringing the finger to the center of the ball as Bakugo flailed left and right. He only stopped long enough to retrieve the brush and the fork. “I love being right.”

“GGGGGGGGGHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHAHAHAHHAAHHAHAHA!!! HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!!!”

No, it couldn’t tickle that much, it just couldn’t. The fork traveled from the bottom of his arch all the way to the base of his toes, then down, then up again. The hairbrush was large enough to perfectly scrub the upper half of Bakugo’s foot, the part that Hawks was naturally focusing on, the two tools gliding harmlessly on the impossibly tender surface thanks to the offshoot of Bakugo’s Quirk.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHHAAHHAHAHA!!! SSSSSSSSSSSSSSTAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAA!!!!! STAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHHA!! STASTATSAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHHAHAAHHAHA!!!”

“Nah, you had your chance,” said Hawks as he switched the two torture instruments.

Bakugo whipped his head back and forth, if he could he might have banged it on the stocks just to feel something else. And Hawks was unrelenting. Skilled, and unrelenting.

“Weren’t you going to kill me? How are you going to do that? By giggling yourself to death?”

The hard bristles and tines would have scrubbed Bakugo raw if not for his Quirk, but his nerves weren’t any less on fire for it, every ounce of pain having been traded for a different sensation that Bakugo despised even more. But he had no ego left to be bruised, as his entire self was concentrated in his superhumanly sensitive feet, tenderized by the Quirk he was so proud of.

“Now this is an explosion! Oh, you think I’m moving away from the ball? Right where it tickles the most? Oh no no no! I’ll just tickle everywhere else to!”

The part of Bakugo that realized what was about to happen clawed its way to the surface. “NAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAH! NONONONONOHHHHHH!!!! PLEASESTOPPLEAHAHHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAAHSEE!!!”

But the myriad quills that descended on every part of his soles not ravaged by the hellish tools didn’t heed his final plea.

With one last boom of maddened laughter, Bakugo was thrust into the same pit that he’d watched Todoroki sink into, utterly, thoroughly destroyed, drooling, crying, but unable to string enough sounds together to grovel.

Humiliation, embarrassment, disappointment were fictions that had been shattered, as the tickling cut to something primal, genuine within him. Who knew that tickling his feet really hard was the key.

“GHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!! HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA!!! GGGGGGHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAAHA!!!”

At some point, Bakugo felt himself float up toward the harsh neon light overhead, gurgling nonsense as the room faded back into focus.

“...ease… nno… moohore…”

But Hawks was already on the threshold, with Dabi having already left the room. Bakugo’s head lolled to the side, allowing him to encounter Todoroki’s dim, concerned gaze.

“Thank you boys!” said Hawks cheerfully. “Someone will come pick you up soon. Pleasure doing business with you!”

He slammed the door behind him, leaving the two tickle-drunk trainees in the room alone.

As his circumstances flooded back to the forefront, Todoroki’s concern pissed him off. “How–” his voice cracked. Water. “How could you?!” He wasn’t quite sure if he was referring to the code, or to what Hawks had put him through after.

Todoroki didn’t respond, but looked at the door. “Ssh.”

He’d… shushed him? That guy had shushed him–

Bakugo’s eyes bulged out of his sockets when he saw Todoroki lift the upper portion of the stocks and slide his sore wrists and ankles out. To safety, to freedom.

Bakugo forgot everything he wanted to yell. “How… When…?!”

“Hawks did it,” whispered Todoroki as he stretched his sore limbs. Bakugo tried to lift his own stocks, and lo and behold, they opened. There was a feather in the lock, which Todoroki grabbed.

Bakugo’s shock was plain on his expression, his smile muscles stiff.

“Didn’t you notice… what Hawks was writing… with his feathers?” asked Todoroki. He took a deep breath as he shuffled towards the door. “He’s on our side. He wants… us to escape and… tell the agency… to change the code.”

Bakugo was still incredulous as the hallway opened up before him.

“Come on,” said Todoroki as he started out of the room.

Bakugo followed him, to be sure. But he was thinking. He hadn’t noticed anything. And if Todoroki knew all along, how much of it had been an act? And if he had put up a show for their captors, so he could convincingly give up the code later… did he think that Bakugo was weak?

Bakugo grunted. Todoroki shot him a puzzled look, but didn’t stop.

He couldn’t allow the half and half bastard to think of him that way. To feel superior. He had to show him who was really the most ticklish.

#mha tickle #tickle content #bnha tickle #tickletorture #tickle fic #ticklish!bakugo #ticklish!bakugou #lee!bakugo #lee!bakugou #ticklish!todoroki #lee!todoroki #ler!hawks #ler!dabi

328 notes · View notes

ladybirdswritings · 1 year ago

Text

Bound - Miguel O’Hara x Reader

Summary: Miguel O’Hara was never known to be a man wanting. He was beyond content with the power surging through him upon his multiversal throne. That is until he lays his hungry eyes upon you. Now, he will do whatever it takes just for the taste of you… dark!miguel x reader fic. very steamy as always <3

Notes: I couldn’t stop myself from this hades and persephone-esque fic so I hope you enjoy!! SW&P is far lighter if you desire that <3

next chap

one

Morning is a sweet greeting to you, warm and incandescent to shine it’s rays upon soft skin. As it always is. Though you find it to be dreary on days like this, as it is the same as the day prior, and the day prior to that day. As if it is not sparkling gold but shadowing gray.

All the same repetitive waltz for you.

Yet to your unknowing mind, much would change within the quick hour. Change not in the way of little things but rather in the way that would make your toes curl and your eager hands grab your tresses so you might not trip upon them on your dash toward the tallest hills.

You would have run had you known what was to come.

Yet you didn’t; and so? Your morning was quite a bore.

Similar to a zombie are your sunken cheeks and coffee kissed eyes decorated with awful bags. Your toothbrush is made of oak as is your boar-bristled comb. You tend to your prettying before slipping away from the hustle and bustle of a lively home. Four sisters and two brothers you sport, and an overbearing woman you dare to call your mother.

You made routine of this. Sneaking away with the latest print picked up from the small shop next to the apothecary in town. Out the oak wood door and past the burnt toast and meat to cuddle yourself comfortably against your favored weeping willow by the bend.

Your only company is the ducklings these days, though you don’t mind them much. They are mostly quiet beyond the occasional quack.

Serenity became you as you lay there in the remnants of springtime’s shadow, willfully sprouted in peonies and lilac blossoms.

Your print is a work of Austen, an old and worn thing but one you’d found comfort in recently. It would be your fourth time revisiting.

Would… however.

“Oh heavens sakes! You must enjoy making your mother walk upon tousled soil, girl! Have you got half a mind!? I don’t presume so otherwise you’d avoid any possibility of me losing a leg!”

A whine like that of a carnaged cat rings out from behind the bend. In the grassy plains your mother struggles her way toward you. You stand to your feet in swift motion, but your wandering eye finds curiosity in an unfamiliar bloom. Its colors an odd pairing of red and blue unfurled toward the sun.

What an odd thing, you think.

The huffing and puffing snaps your attention center, and you nearly grumble in complaint as you hurry toward your mother.

“Mama I was just—”

“Oh save it. I see you slip out each morning, I know full well your disdain for the company of your own family… but I didn’t come here to admonish you, sweet girl. Quite the opposite in fact. I am here to ask a favor of you. It seems the cold air has made our chickens most unwilling to provide us with eggs. Won’t you go in town and gather some?”

Like the rainfall’s mist caught by breath of wind, your hopes and plans of reading in the bend till dawn have dissipated. Pursing your lips, you nod— not wanting to administer a guaranteed headache at wake of your protest.

In to town you’ll venture.

✧*̥˚ … *̥˚✧

The cobblestone is cracked underneath your boot, as it is dampened by springtime’s departured mist. You like the clicking sound, though it is most lonesome at this ungodly hour.

The house cannot be run well with lack of your aid. Father left long ago and mother is just a dreadful housewife. The doctor blames her dissonance on the ailments within her mind’s confines though— she swears herself always to be whole and well.

Regardless, for the sake of your sisters— you help. Besides this, you owe it to her.

Your basket is made of weaved wicker and adorned with crimson cloth, at the end of the cobble is where life shines proud. A more lively gathering of townsfolk in search of early morning eggs to enjoy with their breakfast.

A single carriage, outdated as the things are, surges forward in an unstable command by a young man. He cannot be past twenty three, and his face is speckled with pale freckles. His hair is a burnt orange rasp.

The stallions are dark as midnight, sweat being huffed like chimney smoke from their nostrils. Dear god, the way he commands them is certain to ensure an accident.

You tuck the thought away in to the back of your mind to be focused upon your task. You’ll need no more than a dozen or perhaps three what with the vacuum cleaner your eldest brother refers to as his mouth.

Babblebrooke, it is where you’ve lived most your orphaned life. Surely some places have technology of picture books and magazines you skim through when you are awarded the rare chance but— you find yourself content with a place so simple.

You cannot imagine a life of loudness, no quiet space to tuck away and read. It’s a frightening thought.

The stand is nearby, only a few more passing steps and you’ll reach it. Your eyes are locked on the fresh berries, but you know full well you won’t have enough for them.

A bark startles you out of your trance, one excited and pointed. You jump at the sound and turn your head to find a cocker spaniel hound circling round and round to chase its own tail. You giggle at the sight, and its chestnut ears raise in alarm at the vibration.

Oh, it’s noticed you.

The little thing hobbles over excitedly, and you cannot help but bend on your knee to brush back its silken locks.

Beyond a canvas collar of pale pink lays a heart, engraved in molten silver the title: “Lyla.”

So she belongs to someone. Such a kind thing, they are to be a lucky companion indeed.

You smooth back the hair from her excited eyes before lifting to your feet again and continuing forward. She begins to follow you, but a movement in the alleyway shadows is a matter she finds far more pressing for her attention.

“Lyla…” you test in a whisper as you make your way behind a man hunched and gray— awaiting his eggs for breakfast.

Time seems agonizing and the line moves awfully slow, you peek behind the elder man to find annoyance laced in the eyes of the townsfolk. Blaire has taken a liking to the farm boy— it seems she’s busying herself with conversing nonsense with his mother rather than picking her fresh fruits for tart pastries.

You sigh, checking the time on your cracked, golden watch with impatience brewing at the soles of your boots. You sway on them, shifting your weight forward and back. No use just staring ahead.

Though it is quite loud, it doesn’t stop you from reaching in to your tote for “Jane Eyre.”

You find your favorite part, their first midnight meeting in the hallway. How romantic it is, you only wish that to be a possibility for you one day. You forbid yourself from joining the season of course but somewhere tucked away inside— you wonder how marvelous it would be for a broody and handsome thing to appear upon your doorstep with a bouquet the size of France.

You grin at the thought. Though it is swiftly interrupted by the quick patter of familiar paws.

“Woah! Easy!”

Your head snaps up at the gasps of those around you, and you are most horrified to see that the horses have reached the steep bend mere steps away. The ginger fool, they halt in warning and he kicks at them— slapping them with a russet pole. They comply, and the carriage loses control.

It creaks, hurling forward and disconnecting from its rusted shell. Tumbling at godspeed down the cobble and straight for little Lyla who lays mindlessly and happily on her back now.

Panic surges, and your eyes find worry in everyone’s features and yet no motive to act alongside it. Such cowardly men, allowing the poor thing to succumb to the bite of freak nature and cruel fate.

You won’t allow it. Though you feel frozen, the sharp and desperate shout of “Lyla!” from a phantom voice is enough to snap you back into the most horrible moment present.

“Christ!” You breathe, tossing Jane Eyre to the sapphire sky before surging forward. The carriage stalls on a pebble for a quick moment and it’s enough time for you to beat it by a mere step. You scoop the silly thing into your arms and as the wheel just grazes your skin— it is you now that is saved from immediate death.

A warm hand tugs at your wrist and you’re certain the brick wall has grown awfully large palms and fingers; for what you slam up against is hard and unpleasant.

You grunt, Lyla yelping in surprise where she is tucked up tightly against your chest.

Whistles and claps overtake the coward crowd and you sway upon your own boots as the wind itself makes you unsteady with its light graze. Firm palms steel you, grasping your shoulders tight to keep you together and well.

Your eyes venture on an upward path to find two crimson pupils imploring your features as if they are etched in stone and stored away in a beloved museum somewhere in Rome.

Brows pinched and quite bushy, eyes cold but curious, his reddened orbs search your face for what feels like a millennium. Fascinated.

Awed.

You blink, and the cry of the sweet creature in your arms breaks the trance you were entangled in. Lyla leaps from your arms and onto the cobble path— and you only huff and reach a weak arm toward her before the exhaustion of a skipped meal and your adrenaline fueled actions bring you to sit on the cobble ground.

He kneels beside you, the stranger. Yet you cannot find yourself mustering enough energy to truly examine his face. Just his eyes, rare things they are.

“She’ll be alright.” He whispers, hands still pleasantly upon your shoulders as if he fears you’ll topple over and shatter once he parts.

When you do lift your gaze however, stricken curious by the sickly silken sound of his voice, he’s gone.

“Thank y-”

The word croaks in your throat, and you can only wonder how it was possible… how quickly the phantom left you upon the cobble. The farm boy rushes over soon, much to the demise of poor Blaire. She stares on at the carriage and ginger man as if she wishes it was her nearly trampled.

He hands you fresh water and berries, and you wave his concern away and the crowd’s curiosity with a weak hand.

Your mind is only glued upon one thing.

The phantom.

🏷️’s: @reirain @needybitez @migueloharastruelove @laysmt @maomaimao @daisy-artfield @poutysprouty @chorizobeets @tabalittlelong @iitangerine @queenb27sblog-blog @dprmooni @neptunieesworld @cyd2301 @amelialysm @justanothers-things @heartfeltlonging @coralreefses @knightowl019 @cybersry

463 notes · View notes

scribblesofagoonerr · 6 months ago

Text

— no more money for monkey | buddy & monkey: double the trouble

once again this is based around an anon request for this specific one

thanks to @alotofpockets with her advice with this one!

"Le! Le! I need it!" You do your best to beg and plead, trying to get the blonde to give in to letting you buy the cool new latest obsession that you had.

Remote control cars, but in this case it's now a remote control boat that you just have to have without any question.

Being in the local shopping center makes it seem like the perfect opportunity to do that.

At least you think it did.

"No, Monkey," The blonde dampens your excitement by being a complete buzz-kill.

"Leah, come on! You know it looks sick and I really need to get it!" You whine in protest, trying to get through to the blonde and make it known that this remote control boat is something that you desperately need.

If only it was ever that easy to do.

"You don't need the boat, Monkey," Leah's quick to reply and shake her head, before she continues to look

That's where you and her think differently about things.

"Well, no... But I want it!" Your insistent to get what you want, one way or another.

"Then I'm afraid it's tough luck until next month, Monkey," Leah chuckles and shakes her head, "I gave you your monthly allowance and you blew it just like that, remember?" She questions, amusedly.

You pout and slump your shoulders, "I... I didn't blow it all at once."

"Really?" Leah can't help but scoff and shake her head again, "I seem to recall different when the other day I said 'Here's your allowance for the month, don't blow it all at once' and after the first day, what is it that you said?" The blonde questions you, awaiting the answer.

"Your really gonna make me repeat it?" You question, letting out a huff in annoyance.

Leah smirks and nods, "Yep."

Exhaling a sigh, you scowl at the blonde before you speak, "I blew it all, I'm broke as fuck." You repeat your words in a dull-toned down voice, "But this boat is justified!" You whine.

"And there's your answer to why you have an allowance when you go off and buy pointless things that aren't necessary," Leah mocks you as she pats you on your chin and smiles amusedly, "You get obsessed with it for a week or two and then it's just left aside like usual. Need I remind you of Buddy's first birthday as well, hm?" She asks.

"It weren't that bad. I think it's a bit of an over exaggeration there," You remark grumpily while you keep your shoulders slouched.

"That's where you and I think different, sunshine," Leah states, laughing a bit as she starts to walk off ahead of you in the shopping center you're in.

Of course you remember Buddy's first birthday, that's where it all started.

You just don't think it is that bad, considering you have no concept of money whatsoever these days but unfortunately for you, the blonde defender that you live with seems to think about this practically.

"Le! Le!" You shouted aloud as you did your best to lug a heavy load of shopping bags into the house, "I... I need a hand out here!" You called out to get her attention.

You and Jordan had taken a trip into the local shopping center just a few weeks before Buddy's first birthday, meanwhile Leah was at home with Buddy and of course you took the opportunity to get carried away.

You definitely did want to spoil her a lot!

Leah and Jordan had separated, but of course they were still on civil terms for the sake of Buddy, and you guess yourself to some extent - You still got a long with Jordan, after all you played on the same team as her and of course she was a big part of your life when you first made the move to the club.

"Le! Come 'ere quick, I need help! They're so heavy!" Your were quick enough to shout the blonde for help, not even considering that Buddy could be taking a nap and there was possibility of waking her up...

Oops?

Footsteps were heard padding through as she walked into the hallway and the blonde looked annoyed, "Will you keep your voice down? Buddy's not long gone to sleep," Its' only then she takes one look at the heavy bags and her eyes widen in absolute disbelief, "What the-- Crikey, Monkey. What the hell have you been buying?" She questioned.

It didn't seem like a lot to you, you just kept on picking things up and well, of course Jordan was pretty easy to convince that you did indeed to buy all of it.

"It's presents for Buddy's birthday!" You exclaimed with a beaming wide smile, "I got so many cool things for her!"

"Yeah, yeah, I can see that," Leah furrowed her eyebrows in concern as she moved to help you bring in the rest of the bags as she saw Jordan walk up to the front door now she'd parked the car on the driveway, "Why an earth did you let her get so much?" She questioned, bewildered.

"Eh, I guess the kid got carried away," Jordan chuckled, shrugging her shoulders and not seen the problem behind it, "You know she gets me right away with those puppy dog eyes, Leah. I couldn't say no to her!" She insisted.

"Jord, your the adult here! You could have put your foot down," Leah huffed and shook her head with her ex before she started to help bring in the rest of the bags that were blocking the front door, "Please tell me that this is all of it?" She questioned looking at you.

"Eh, kind off... Well, uh no, there's still quite a bit in the car boot," You admitted quietly, scratching the back of your neck, "But its' all totally justified though!" You added in.

The blonde didn't seem to think about it like that as she clicked her tongue in disapproval, "Tell me you haven't spent all of your money on this?" She asked.

"No, no, not all of it, but like most of it. I got carried away!" You still didn't see the problem with your spending habits, "Wait until you see what I got her!"

"Do I even want to know how much you've spent?" Leah questioned wearily, having a feeling it was a lot either way.

"It weren't even that much," You respond, shrugging your shoulders.

Like you said, you didn't really care about the concept of money much sometimes.

"How much?" Leah repeated, sternly.

"Fine, alright," You slumped your shoulders and resisted the urge to roll your eyes, "It was maybe just a little over £300... Possibly more."

The only way you can really explain the look on the blondes' face is like her eyes were about to come out of the sockets if they could, "£300? Are you joking?!" She asked in disbelief.

You sheepishly nodded and stuck your hands in your jean pockets, "Could be more." You stated.

"Monkey, that is a lot of money to spend on a 1 year old!" Leah told you, shaking her head as she started to take a look through the bags before she looked at Jordan, "Seriously, Jord? You let her spend this much money!"

"It's her money, Le. She can do what she likes with it," Jordan remarked, shrugging her shoulders again, "I'll go and grab the rest of it out of the boot." She made a quick escape back out of the front door to avoid any further words from the blonde.

"See, exactly! It's not every day that my favourite little buddy turns 1 now, is it?" You replied, making the reason for your spending seem justified.

On the other hand, the blonde didn't seem so convinced, "She won't even play with half of this-- This lego set is not even for her!" She exclaimed.

"Oh yeah! No, that one is for me," You beamed a wide smile as you took the box of out the bag, "Look how cool it is though!" You insisted.

"Le, whoa, look!" You were quick to run ahead of Leah, Buddy and Leah's mum in another shopping center a few days later when your quick to spot the exact same pair of trainers in your favourite little buddy's size that replicated your own ones, "They've got the same shoes that I have for Buddy!"

You didn't think that you'd spent nearly enough money like you should have done, but this reason to spend it is at least justified and you loved to spend money.

"Awh, yeah. So they do!" Leah smiled fondly at you in agreement.

"They look adorable," Leahs' mum, Amanda chimed in.

"I just have to get her a pair to match!" Your insistent to want to go into the shop and buy them, much to the disagreement of the blonde who doesn't look entirely convinced about that.

"Don't you think you've already spent enough on her?" Leah questioned knowingly.

"It's her first birthday though, Le!" You were quick to insist, having found that using that excuse had seemed to work wonders the last time.

"No," Leah clicked her tongue in disapproval and shook her head, "Stop using that as an excuse-- I'm not going to give into the puppy dog eyes either, you know I don't fall for them!" She stated, firmly.

Huffing and puffing at the blondes' words, you still tried to convince her otherwise, "Come on, you know they'd look adorable!"

"No, Monkey. You've already spent enough on her! No more!" Leah stood firm on her words, taking a hold of your upper bicep and doing her best to pull you away from the shop, "Come on, we've got other things to buy still."

You didn't agree with that, you didn't see the problem with spending so much on things. What was the harm?

"Please for the love of god, tell me that is not another present you have brought," Leah murmured as she watched you excitedly run back out of the toy shop with a massive bag in tow, that you had disappeared into less than half an hour ago.

"Okay then, it's not another present for Buddy," You parroted the answer as you shyly hid the plastic carrier bag behind your back.

What's the worst that can happen?

"I tried to stop her," Leah's mum, Amanda, stated following you out of the shop, "But you know what she is like sometimes." She joked.

"This is totally justified!" It's your go to excuse, but at least it worked or at least you think it did.

"Are you kidding me right now, Monkey?" Leah asked in absolute disbelief, shaking her head in frustration, "I've already told you that she doesn't need anything else-- Shes' only 1, remember!"

"But Le," You began to tell her.

Leah continued to look at you further annoyed, "I swear if your about to use that excuse one more time-- That's it, I'm confiscating your bank card. I'm cutting you off!" She stated, firmly.

Now it was your turn to look at her in disbelief, "But it's my money though!"

"Yes, but are you spending it wisely? Nope!" Leah snorted in amusement, "Therefor I am taking control of it until you're capable of handling your money better!" She told you in determination.

"That... That's not fair!" You whined in protest.

"Really? Cos' I think it is when you've blown most of your wages on things that aren't necessary!" Leah told you firmly before she held her hand out to you, "Hand it over, please."

"No, I don't like this idea!" Your defiant to agree to willingly give your bank card to Leah, "I'm not giving you my bank card. It's my money!" You objected.

"It is your money but Monkey you're just wasting it when you don't need too," Leah stated, explaining her reasoning for it, "Hand it over." She repeated, firmly.

Still continuing to look at her in disbelief, you fished around in your trouser pocket and begrudgingly handed your bank card to the blonde who wasted no time in putting it in her own purse, "I don't like this."

"You'll get used to it," Leah responded, patting you on the shoulder in condescending type of way.

This only made you scowl at her more, "When can I have it back?" You wondered, curiously.

"I told you, when you can learn to handle money better, but until you do, your bank card is staying with me and you can have an allowance," Leah stated with a proud smirk on her face, "Think of this as a good thing that you will be able to have savings now!" She joked at your own expense.

Spoiler alert, you still have no sense of money whatsoever and therefore, Leah still holds her bank card hostage years later.

#monkey #double the trouble fic #leah williamson x reader #jordan nobbs x reader #woso x reader #chaos fc reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #scribblesofagoonerr #crossover #woso one shot #arsenal wfc x reader #arsenal x reader #arsenal women x reader

154 notes · View notes

emma23 · 1 month ago

Text

Invisible in the crowd :

Steven grant x reader

————————————————————————

The dim lighting of the British Museum’s after-hours event created an atmosphere that was both elegant and a little awkward. You stood near the back of the room, clutching your glass of champagne as you observed the crowd. It was one of those charity events where people came dressed to impress, mingled, and pretended to care about the auctioned artifacts. But you felt like a ghost among them, blending into the background. No one knew who you were, and you doubted anyone would notice if you disappeared.

You glanced around the room, noting how easy it was for everyone else to strike up conversations or laugh over drinks. But not you. No, it was as though you had some kind of invisibility cloak on.

Great, you thought. No one would be looking for me in a room full of people.

You couldn’t help but let a small, dry smile slip. It was a sad but funny truth. You were always the last to be noticed, if you were noticed at all. The thought made your chest tighten with a strange mix of humor and loneliness. It wasn’t like you were actively trying to be the center of attention—God knows you preferred keeping to yourself—but still, sometimes it would be nice to feel... seen.

From across the room, you noticed a familiar figure—someone who seemed just as out of place as you. Steven Grant. The shy, awkward man from the museum gift shop, always stumbling over his words, but with the sweetest demeanor and the most fascinating knowledge of Egyptian history. You’d met him once or twice when you’d come to the museum. Unlike everyone else, he didn’t ignore you. In fact, he’d been almost endearingly attentive during your brief conversations.

Steven was currently hovering near a display of ancient artifacts, fiddling nervously with his tie as if it were choking him. His eyes darted around the room, and you could see that same lost, out-of-place look in his eyes that you felt. The only difference was, Steven was probably trying not to draw attention to himself—while you were trying to convince yourself you didn’t mind not having any.

As if feeling your gaze, Steven’s eyes met yours, and for a brief moment, you were certain you saw his face light up with recognition. He hesitated, then quickly looked down, adjusting his glasses.

Cute.

You took a deep breath and decided, for once, you’d make the first move. You crossed the room, slipping between groups of people who barely acknowledged your presence, until you stood in front of Steven.

“Steven,” you greeted softly, offering him a small smile. His head shot up in surprise, and you noticed the way his eyes widened behind his glasses.

“Y/N! Oh, hello! I didn’t—I didn’t expect to see you here. I mean, why would I, right? It’s a bit of a... fancy thing, this, isn’t it?” he rambled, gesturing to the room around him. “I’m not sure why they invited me. Must’ve been some mistake, honestly.”

You chuckled, folding your arms. “Pretty sure they know exactly who they invited. You’ve been here longer than half these people.”

Steven blushed at the compliment, his nervous energy apparent as he shifted from foot to foot. “Well, yeah, I suppose I’ve been working here for a while now, but I don’t know if I’m the sort of person who fits in at these things, you know? Bit out of my depth.”

“You and me both.” You raised your glass in a mock toast, and Steven smiled at the gesture, relaxing slightly.

The two of you fell into a surprisingly comfortable conversation about the museum’s latest exhibits and, of course, ancient Egypt. Steven lit up when you mentioned how fascinating the myths were, launching into a passionate explanation about some obscure god or legend. It was hard not to get caught up in his enthusiasm—he had a way of making even the driest historical fact sound intriguing.

As the evening went on, you found yourself moving closer to him, drawn to his warmth and kindness. Steven was so genuine, so different from anyone else here. And as much as he thought he didn’t belong, you couldn’t help but feel like he was the only person you wanted to be around.

Eventually, the conversation hit a lull, and you both stood in companionable silence. Steven cleared his throat, looking down at his feet. “So, um... you came here alone, then?”

“Yeah.” You shrugged, glancing around. “Not exactly anyone waiting for me.”

Steven frowned slightly, his brow furrowing. “I find that hard to believe.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “No, trust me. In a room full of people, no one’s looking for me.”

Steven opened his mouth to protest but seemed to think better of it. Instead, he reached up to rub the back of his neck, a gesture you’d come to recognize as one of his nervous tics. “Well... I was.”

You blinked in surprise, your heart skipping a beat. “You were?”

Steven nodded, his cheeks flushing a deeper shade of red. “Yeah, I mean, when I saw you across the room, I was, um... I was kind of hoping I’d get the chance to talk to you. It’s not every day you get to talk to someone who actually listens to what you’re saying about hieroglyphics.”

His words were shy but sincere, and you couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips. “Well, I happen to like hieroglyphics.”

“Really?” He beamed, clearly pleased with the idea that someone shared his passion.

“Yeah,” you said, stepping closer, lowering your voice slightly. “And maybe I happen to like the person explaining them, too.”

Steven froze, his eyes going wide with surprise. “Y-you do?”

You nodded, feeling your heart race as you realized just how close you were now. His lips parted slightly, and you could see the hesitation in his eyes—Steven wasn’t the type to make the first move. But that was okay. You were.

Before he could overthink it, you leaned in, pressing your lips gently to his. Steven let out a soft gasp of surprise, but it didn’t take long for him to kiss you back, his lips soft and tentative against yours. It was sweet, unhurried, and so utterly Steven.

When you finally pulled back, you were both a little breathless. Steven blinked at you, his expression a mix of awe and disbelief. “Wow,” he breathed, running a hand through his messy curls. “That was... really nice.”

You smiled, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead. “Yeah, it was.”

For a moment, neither of you said anything, just enjoying the quiet between you. Then, out of nowhere, Steven chuckled—a soft, warm sound that made your chest tighten in the best way.

“What’s so funny?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

He looked at you, his eyes twinkling with humor. “I just... I still can’t believe I got invited to one of these things. And now here I am, kissing someone in front of an ancient Egyptian statue. Not exactly what I expected tonight.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You know, Steven, I don’t think anyone could have predicted this.”

He grinned, and you couldn’t help but notice how much more confident he seemed now, like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. “Well, I’m glad it happened. I, um... I’ve always liked you, Y/N. I just didn’t know how to say it.”

You smiled, feeling your heart swell at his confession. “You don’t have to say anything, Steven. I think I get it.”

Steven reached for your hand, holding it gently in his. “I’m glad I found you tonight,” he said softly, his eyes locking with yours.

And for the first time in a long time, you felt truly seen.

#steven grant x reader #steven grant #moon knight #oscar isaac #oscar isaac character #oscar isaac characters

65 notes · View notes

coveholdenmyluv · 9 months ago

Text

Mean Girls - E. Jaeger

synopsis. Eren's the new kid at Trost Academy and being fresh meat in his senior year isn't easy. Especially so when the only friends he's made yet have managed to convince him to help them mess with "The Plastics". The problem?

He's got the biggest crush on their queen bee, Y/N.

series masterlist.

chapter warnings. Foul language, suggestive content, rich ppl, vomit, comedy, simping (eren almost creams his pants multiple times wtf man), second hand embarrassment, revenge revenge revenge

chapter synopsis. Eren’s first day at Trost goes horribly wrong but, hey! There’s sloppy joes? Armin and Mikasa won’t let Eren’s injustice go so easily…

chapter 1. Trost Academy

Trost district.

A paradise where sports cars, shopping centers, and marbled water fountains lined the streets from north to south and east to west.

And smack dab in the center of the bustling city stood an enormous pristine building lined with white bricks and polished blue tinted windows. Its entire essence oozed ideal perfection. Trost Academy, the city's pride and joy.

A fortifying standing contradiction to the boy currently planted at the front gate.

Beads of sweat could be seen sliding down the crevices of Eren's face, whether from exhaustion or nerves he couldn't yet tell. As if being the new kid in his senior year of high school that was in an entirely different city wasn't bad enough, the dumbass forgot to change the time his alarm went off. It had slipped his mind the night before that a new school meant a differing schedule, hence himself still operating on Shiganshina High's delayed timetable.

Luckily for him, mommy Carla wasn't so stupid, so when she noticed that Eren hadn't descended down the stairs for breakfast yet, you best believe she went in there and whooped some Jeager ass. It was because of Carla's thoughtfulness that he was only running behind a full ten minutes, though Eren doesn't take much time to get ready.

So here he was, taking in the glory of what was to be his brand new alma mater. He leisurely made his way to the front gate and displayed his temporary ID to the security guard who in turn allowed him to finally step foot inside his latest ecosystem. Which is actually a very humorous way to describe the academy since usually when a person pictures an ecosystem, one would see animals, trees, water, or any natural aspects that came from wild life.

The academy is the exact opposite of that idea; as opposing as black and white. Not a single weed out of place or bird shit staining any of the bricks - it's clear that someone takes exceptional care of the place.

It is currently 7:15 am and Eren had just acquired his schedule as well as his locker number from the front office, he is now waiting patiently for his student body president to show him around the halls as well as to grab his permanent ID from whatever room they were being made in — he has already forgotten the exact number.

Just as he was falling asleep in the very comfortable chairs of the front office, that almost caused him to froth at the mouth when he realized they were indeed massage chairs, an enthusiastic voice introduced themselves.

"Hey there! You're Eren, right?"

Right before his eyes stood a tall, tan, and freckled god. His dark hair was parted in the middle, with some of it ghosting the top of his face, and the freckles that decorated the apples of his cheeks only enhanced the bright smile he directed towards Eren. His clothes were impeccable, without a wrinkle in sight, and a very obviously expensive diamond studded watch was wrapped around his wrist, putting Eren's own withering one to shame; he'd gotten it on his twelfth birthday as a present from an aunt that he can't remember the name of.

Never in his 18 years of life has Eren ever met someone so blindingly bright, he was almost forced to use his hand as a shield for his eyes at the light that protruded from the boy before him.

"Uh, yeah. Eren Jaeger. I'm guessing you're the one that's gonna show me around this... palace?"

A pellucid laugh fell from the freckled boy at Eren's joke, though he's not sure if he would consider it as such since it's not at all a stretch of the truth, as he placed a hand on his chest to steady his vibrations.

"Yup! Marco Bodt, your new student body president. Welcome, I will do the honors of showing you around campus, to your locker, and attaining your student ID. Class starts at 8:00 so we should get going, Eren." He instructed as he held the door open for the latter. "Can I call you that by the way? I know in Shiganshina it's customary to go by last names, but here we're encouraged to refer to each other by first names because it apparently 'boosts our camaraderie', which is a weird way to think about it since it's not like we're soldiers or anything." He chuckles. "Anyway, if that bothers you then it's totally fine! I can refer to you however you prefer."

"Eren's just fine," He reassures the boy, "Can I call you Marco?"

"Marco is perfect! Well then, let's get going, Eren." Marco says as they finally begin the tour.

As they begin to cruise the halls, Marco begins to offer Eren peculiar information about the places they walk past, as if they are on some safari adventure with teenagers replacing the animals and yellow "Caution! Wet floor!" signs replacing the trees.

Although, usually tour guides speak about history or interesting facts and not... whatever the hell Marco was saying.

"And this is the janitor's closet! You can usually spot at least two people in here making out, just try to not get caught by our janitor, he's small but very scary. I also advise that if you plan on taking more than two people in here, maybe you should reconsider and instead take it to the stairwell just down the hall. Based on my past experiences, it can get pretty cramped in here." The student body president explained with a laugh that threw his head back.

Eren blinked in perplexity at the load of information thrown at him just now, though it's not like he'd be of any need for it. Eren gets no bitches.

"This window right here is where one of my best friends had their first kiss!" He exclaims as he points at the window overlooking the front garden, before he excitedly shifts his attention towards the boy's bathroom on the other side of the hall. "Oh! And just down that way is the restroom where one of my other best friend's got their first blowjob... although, I don't know if it counts since the girl threw it all back up, hmm." He ponders deeply.

That was traumatizing for two reasons: for Marco's best friend experiencing the matter and for Eren since he had NO NEED FOR THAT INFORMATION.

"Wow, you guys sure have a lot of history here." Eren offers unsurely.

Marco agrees with a nod, "That's right we do, we've been here since freshman year so these halls have seen many of our milestones." He explains with a fond expression. "By the way, right down there is the common room that we use to chill on our free periods. Feel free to join my friends and I if you ever see us hanging around here during lunch or just need some company."

"Thanks, I'll keep that in mind," Though, Eren doesn't think he'd be able to look Marco's best friend in the eyes after what he's heard.

"Great, now let's head to-" Marco begins before his sentence is interrupted by a high pitched voice.

"Jean, just leave me alone for once, please."

Marco halts his movements and turns to the cause of the disturbance which in turn causes Eren to do the same.

It looked to be a short boy with shoulder length blonde hair and azure eyes that remained obstructed by chunky rectangular glasses. He was being cornered by a taller boy with light brown hair that was slicked and parted, with a heavy amount of gel, and matching colored eyes. The taller boy had his arm perched up against the wall, effectively caging the blonde and thwarting any attempts at escape.

"Eh? Armin, y'know I can't do that. Why don't you yell a little louder so that goth friend of yours can come to your rescue yet again, yeah?" Says the one that Eren guesses is named Jean.

"How about you grow some balls and ask her out instead? Not that she'd say yes, anyway." Armin had mumbled the last part but Jean had heard it loud and clear.

"You don't know what you're talking about Armin, shut the hell up!" Jean says, (yells) whilst he throws his hands up defensively.

The blonde rolls his eyes in irritation and with many cracks to his voice present in his statement, he says, "Why should I? It's not like the whole world doesn't already know about how much of a try hard you are when she's around! Why don't you try licking her boots next time you see her, huh?"

"Oh yeah? Keep talking shit, let's see where that gets you."

"Woah, calm down Jamal. Don't pull out the nine."

"Why I oughta-" Jean begins as he raises his fist, only to be stopped mid swing.

"Is this... fun for you?" Eren asks with a furrow in his brows. His right hand grips Jean's left arm which effectively stops his fist from hitting Armin's frail face.

"Who the hell are you?" Jean asks, irritated.

"Does it even matter? Why bother the kid when he obviously hasn't done jack shit to you?"

"And how do you know he hasn't done jack shit to me? Maybe you should mind your own."

"I heard your conversation. Besides..." Eren looks to Armin and sizes him up before he turns back to Jean with the most deadpan expression one could muster. His point was spoken without words. What could he do to a guy like Jean?

"Hey!" Armin squeals in offense.

Jean nodded in agreement, "Okay, you've got a point, but still, I mean he could've fucked my girl and you wouldn't even know that you're defending a shit person."

"You've gotta get a girlfriend first, Jean. Then we'll see what I do about that." Armin mutters bitterly.

"You better shut your ass up, runt. Before I fuck your nose up more than it already is." Jean grits.

Armin gapes in offense, "WHAT- okay... new insecurity unlocked."

Jean then turns his attention back to Eren. "Anyway, this was an A & B conversation, so C your way out of it." He says oh so maturely.

"How about you make me?" Eren narrows his eyes.

"Okay! Let's all calm down, alright?" Marco finally intrudes as he places himself between the two boys. "Jean, come on man, don't make me tell Y/N about this. She should be finishing up morning practice soon anyway, you should go meet her at her locker like you always do!" He offers, effectively having an effect on the light haired boy. His shoulders relaxed from their tense position at his friend's reassurance.

"Fine." He relents. "Walk with me though, and don't you dare say a word about this to Y/N or else I'll piss in your backpack later." Jean threatens as he pulls himself away from the situation.

Marco giggles nervously as one of his hands rises to rub at the back of his neck, "Sorry about him you two. He didn't mean any of it!" He laughs off the conflict.

"Yes I fucking did!" Jean affirms from down the hall.

"Anyways, so sorry Eren. I'll be right back, I've gotta walk Jean back to his caretaker for the morning." Marco whispers with a palm shielding his lips. "I'll be back in just a sec!" He exclaims and hops off into Jean's direction.

"Why do you always take his side, Marc? I literally almost cried on the spot right now." Jean could be heard whining as both boys rounded the corner and walked out of sight.

A beat of silence occurs where the latter pair were left, before Armin exclaims.

"Uhh, oh!" He turns his body to face a trash can before whispering into the opening, "Mikasa, you can come out now."

Eren lifts a brow as he watches the cover of the trash can lift itself from the inside, and out stepped a girl dressed head to toe in black attire with two dark pigtails and bangs that frame her pale face. She held a black book in her manicured hands. Black nail polish, black lipstick, black fishnets, silver skull rings, and a black choker were more than enough of a hint to Eren for him to realize that this was the goth friend Jean had mentioned earlier.

The sight of a girl stepping out of an empty trash can should have caused him to gape in surprise, but at this point he was ready to expect anything more from his first day at Trost Academy.

"Thank you so much! Uhm, Eren was it? You looked as cool as the guys from 21 Jump Street!" Armin exclaimed and it was only then that the boy held the DVD case in his hands. Who the hell uses DVDs anymore?

"No," The girl declares as she lifts her book to her face, "You must be the dark knight called forth by my curse, here to fight off that man."

"What? Uh- no, I'm just Eren. It was no big deal." Eren deflects as he places his hands into his pockets.

To tell you the honest truth, Eren was shitting himself on the inside during the encounter with the jerk from earlier. He didn't know where he gained the courage to actually stand his ground, much less for someone else.

"You'd think a school as nice as this one would have no tolerance for bullying, though."

"Well, money talks, I guess." Armin says as he attempts to locate his lenses that had fallen during the ruckus.

"I've been trying to hex him since freshman year, but it won't work for some reason. It's like there's a force protecting him from me..." The girl says as she picks up the discarded glasses and hands them to her blonde friend. "Perhaps the Marco rumors are true. It'd make sense if he were an actual angel sent from above-" She continues.

"Wait, what? Who the hell made that up?" Eren asks.

"Beats me, though if I had to guess: I'd say Sasha or Connie." She answers.

"Who are they?"

"They're only two of the plastics." Armin pipes up.

"Plastics? As in, like, a mannequin?"

"What?! No, the plastics are..." Armin began only for his voice to die off as his eyes drifted behind Eren.

"Sorry about that again, Eren!" Marco apologizes as he reappears suddenly. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything. We really should get going though, we still need to stop at a couple more places and then grab your ID. Oh! Good morning, Mikasa." He looks a bit out of breath, as if he had run the whole way back. The girl being addressed only waved daintily and then shielded herself with her book, probably due to how scintillatingly bright Marco's entrance was.

"That's okay. Yeah, we should." Eren replies.

"Bye Eren! Oh, you should sit with us at lunch later!" Armin bids the boy goodbye.

Eren nods in agreement as he follows after his designated guide, off to somewhere he would probably have to listen to bizarre stories about. It seemed as though Marco could never run out of those, some even filled with normal teen acts and others that cause him to question their sanity.

"Hey Marco, Armin mentioned something earlier today..." He spoke up.

"What's that?" Marco asks as he provides him his full and undivided attention.

"What are 'The Plastics'?"

Marco is visibly stunned by his question for a moment, only for his eyes to give a flicker of boredom before the corners crease in their usual upbeat manner.

"Oh, uhm... I'm not quite sure what you mean." He answers with a gritted smile. "Sorry, I don't think I can help you there."

Eren notices Marco's hesitation, though the only movement he offers is an unsure nod of his head.

A brief moment of silence ensues over the pair of boys, before it's gently shattered by the freckled boy.

"Hey, Eren?"

"...Yeah?"

"A little word of advice from someone you, hopefully, trust to guide you in the right direction?" He suggests hesitantly and Eren finds himself subconsciously holding his breath. "You shouldn't believe everything people say around here, 'kay?" Marco says with a gentle grin.

Well, gentle is what Eren guesses it's supposed to be, though the edges are too frigid for it to be considered so. He couldn't help but sense some sort of hidden lingering emotion layered into Marco's chocolate eyes. Perhaps there was also disappointment?

But, if so, directed at who?

"Yeah, thanks... I'll uhm, keep that in mind." Eren replies. He couldn't help but feel as though he was the one who had created that disappointment, and for a reason he couldn't tell you, Eren didn't like the idea.

He hadn't noticed that they made their way to a hallway filled to the brim with lockers lining the walls and students idly loitering around. Checking his wrist watch, he realized they only had 20 minutes until their first class of the day had to begin. As Eren was inspecting his watch, he failed to notice that Marco had halted his pace to peer in the direction they had just entered from.

It was as if the next few seconds moved in decelerated speed. Eren bumped into Marco's chest which in turn forced the boy to look up at the taller boy, only to notice the smile and excited flutter of his hand directed to someone currently behind him, effectively making his own head turn to face the stranger.

In walked a girl that wore a cute blue top with lace adorning the neckline, paired with a matching skirt and sneakers. She had gold, diamonds, and pearls furnishing every inch of her body — from her headband, to her ears, neck, wrists, and even a single ankle. She trotted down the freshly mopped hallway with poise and what Eren noticed to be very toned legs that could have only been worn by someone that took great care of them. Her entire presence demanded the attention of everyone blessed to be in her vicinity.

And so, that's what she got.

He didn't even need to look around to be able to tell that everyone had paused their activities to look at the elegance that was her. How could they when it had seemed as though she had just descended from the heavens above?

...Or, was that simply Eren thinking that part? Maybe that was just a him thing...

"Hey Y/N, good morning sugar! Did you just come from practice?" Marco asks with a noticeably brighter smile than all the ones Eren has seen today; the only grin he could think to rival this one was the one he offered Jean earlier.

The girl noticed Marco as well and her once weary gaze perked up at his presence.

Eren didn't notice it before, because of his ogling, but she was noticeably out of breath and her hair was wet. Did she just step out of the shower? He couldn't fathom how anyone could look so attractive freshly out of a bath... He usually resembled a wet dog.

"Morning Marc', I'm surprised you aren't with your steed right now. Did mom and dad get into a fight again?" She says with a playful lilt to her voice — that Eren could have sworn had visible italics, for some unknown reason. Her voice was so fluid and velvety that his knees almost buckled on the spot.

"Not yet," Marco grimaces with a chuckle. "I'll join you guys in a bit! I'm showing the new kid around right now. Student Prez business, you know the works." He explains with a thumb jutted towards the aforementioned student.

Eren made a mental note to bow down and kiss Marco's feet later to display his gratitude for the brisk switch of attention, for it caused the embodiment of perfection to direct her stare onto his spellbound face. She raised a brow at him before she dropped her gaze to his feet and leisurely dragged it up his entire frame.

Eren almost moaned.

"Morning, new kid." She greeted, though her tone was noticeably far less light when addressing Eren than it was when she spoke to her friend, and then turned her attention back to Marco

It seems she has deemed Eren irrelevant.

"Hurry it up, Marco, 'less you want to tarnish your perfect attendance. I'll be with the diva, I can sense he's in one of his daily moods. I can tame him, but I'll need your help soon." She teases with a roll of her eyes.

A boisterous laugh fell from Marco's lips, "Yeah, I'll join you guys in a bit. Save me a spot-" He halts mid sentence upon noticing Eren's vibrant flush.

The shorter brunet had acted nonchalant throughout the entire duration of his tour, so it baffled Marco just how quickly he altered his tune.

The Student President looks to his friend, poor Y/N who has just gotten out of morning practice and now has to deal with Jean's morning fit. Her legs probably ache and he knows how much she hates the feeling of her wet hair dampening her back, she deserves a small break this once, right?

So, he looks to Eren once again, and then to Y/N, and then repeats the process about five more times.

"What are you doing? Your head's gonna fall off-"

"OW- ooh..." Marco suddenly grips his stomach in agony and hisses through his teeth. "LORD HAVE MERTHY, I'M ABOUT TO BUST!" He yells and dramatically slams himself against the lockers behind him.

"Oh my gosh, are you okay?" Asks Y/N, concern and shock etched into her features.

With a matching look on his face, Eren reaches a hand out in an attempt to help stable the boy. "Marco, what's wrong?"

"I'm fine! I just need to drop a deuce real quick." Marco reassures, which causes both of their brows to rise, though he pays them no heed. "Y/N, you wouldn't mind showing Eren to Dr. Hange's room, would you? He's still gotta get his permanent ID and I don't want to leave him alone. He's just a baby." He says while mustering up the best puppy dog eyes he has ever used.

She's always been a sucker for doe eyes.

"Sure? Are you totally sure you're okay though? That was super sudden-"

"Yup! All fine and dandy, I gotta go. Have fun!" Marco exclaims and runs off to someplace god only knows with how his legs are clenching together.

"He's so fruity sometimes..." Y/N mumbles as she watches him leave, before she shakes her head and extends a jeweled hand towards the boy beside her. "Anyway, sorry about that. Was it Evan?" She asks unsurely.

"E-eren." He says with an audible voice crack, which in turn causes him to clear his throat and deepen his voice dramatically. "It's- I'm just Eren." He says and accepts her offering.

He has to make a lasting impression.

As soon as he takes hold of her soft and manicured hand, he swears he feels some sort of electrical current running through from his head to his toes. Golden sparks flew around her frame and blew some of her hair away from her cheeks... or perhaps that was the effect of Eren's heavy ass breathing fanning across her skin. She noticeably grimaces at the feeling and flinches away before she steadies herself once more.

"Well then, 'just Eren'. The name's Y/N, and sorry about Marco by the way. He's usually really composed so I have no idea what got into him just now. Wow, your hand is super sweaty..." She adds as she pulls her own away from his.

Eren pays the comment no mind and instead murmurs in an hypnotic state, "Y/N, wow that's actually really pretty."

"Oh? Why do you look so surprised?" She asks with a teasing tilt to her lips, her sultry tone of voice was an obvious attempt to loosen them both from the tight restraints their first meeting held them in. Though, she failed to notice how her continuation had gravely affected the boy. "Do I look like I would have an ugly ass name or something?"

"No! That's not what I meant at all." Eren vehemently stated. "I mean, why would anyone say that? You're really pretty, like prettier than your name- prettier than me!" He nervously chuckles.

"Oh, and that's such a valid standard because you're a pretty princess, aren't you? You think highly of yourself, don't you?" She continues her teasing, though Eren still doesn't take the hint.

Shit, he's already messing up. That's okay, he still has time to fix this.

"What?! N-no, that's not what I meant either! You're just like the prettiest person I've ever met, I don't want to cause you any insecurities!"

"Oh trust me, you won't. I know I'm-"

"I over lick my lips when I'm nervous! Sometimes it causes them to get chapped so I have to carry chapsticks with me everywhere." Eren also overshares personal, (embarrassing), information as a nervous habit. Word vomit, if you will.

A trait he is unfortunately exhibiting right now.

"Uh, okay?"

"When I was younger I used to eat the wax from my ears because I used to think it was the same as bees wax, therefore I convinced myself it tasted like honey comb."

Her jaw drops and the teasing grin is gone, clearly being caught off guard by his disturbing words. "Ew..."

"Anyway, you're way prettier than your name! I swear! I could prove it to you?! What do you want me to do? I'll do it, just say the word!" Eren hastily deflects as he flails his arms around and word vomits onto the glistening marbled floors. It's a pathetic sight, really. His insides feel like they're burning an inferno that he can't contain. His stomach begins to churn and suddenly he feels what he imagines Marco had felt earlier.

Does he seriously have to take a deuce right now? Perhaps he should have gone with Marco instead...

"Hey, dude... are you okay? You're looking really pale-" Begins the girl, though her attempt at showing concern was halted by Eren's loud and body convulsing gag.

Oh no... He can feel it, not word vomit, actual vomit pounding its way up his throat, climbing and begging to be released. Sharp talons cleave the walls of his esophagus so heavily that he feels as if he can't breathe. He has never in his 18 years of life felt like this and before he can even attempt to force himself to stop... it overflows.

Spewing out of his lips and onto the girl right before him was his double quarter pounder with cheese, large fries dipped in his Oreo McFlurry, and sprite from last night. All over the most beautiful girl he has ever laid his eyes on, the girl of his dreams.

And it's only then that Eren realizes they weren't alone.

Every single pair of eyes within the vicinity were glued onto their forms. The way Eren hurled and bent forward right onto Y/N's chest.

"What the actual hell?!" The girl shrieks as pure shock and disgust pours into her features. Eren feels hot tears gather on his waterline from the sheer force his body was using to dump out their contents. "What is wrong with you?!" She asks but garners no response as his mouth was preoccupied.

He tries to speak but every time he makes an attempt, his body curls inwards and begins to retch once again, "Shit, I'm so-" He begins, but to no avail. Not unless soiling a pretty girl's outfit counts as any benefit, at least.

"Are you fucking serious right now?! This is fresh Prada! Ugh, you indigent bum, I hope you know this costs more than your damn miserable life!"

It's safe to say that Eren has made his lasting impression.

About 30 minutes after his projectile vomiting incident, Eren and Y/N are walking the same hallway they had met in, on their way to Dr. Hange's room for a stupid ID that he doesn't even care about anymore. Not when he can feel the wrathful glare from the short janitor stabbing at the side of his head. Eren grimaced as he walks past and murmurs a soft apology for creating the mess he was required to scrub until the floor glistened once again.

How did he already get on the janitor's shit list?

The girl beside him wasn't a fresh breeze on a sunny Sunday morning either. Rightfully so, considering she was forced to go shower again, though at least she was smart enough to store an extra pair of clothes in her locker. Here she was sporting yet another skirt, only this one was a vintage green finished with a mermaid hem. Her top was matching in color with some sort of floral pattern that Eren decided suited the way she smelled, and a small cardigan laid right on top. Her head was adorned with a white headband that matched her sneakers.

This chick seriously can't look anything less than perfection, can she?

Eren himself hadn't gotten any of last nights dinner on his own clothes, thankfully since he was not smart enough to do the same as the irritated girl. He better be extra thankful because of course he chose to wear a white button up today and there is no way he would have gotten the stain out, much less the smell.

They walked in silence, side by side, as the girl gripped the strap of her handbag... is that Balenciaga? Either way, Eren struggled to match her pace. She was absolutely pissed, that much he could tell.

He didn't know what to do, he could barely bring himself to speak. He felt that if he attempted to, he might puke all over her designer clothes again and he doubts she would have a third outfit prepared.

She would, but that's not important.

He really really wants to apologize, perhaps he can pay her back? Maybe he can sell one of his kidneys on the black market? Would they even pay him enough for that? He could probably find a nice corner and advertise his virginity to cover the rest, he's 18 now so it should be legal, right? Or, perhaps he will forever stay in debt to a girl he met in high school that pranced around in designer clothing and handbags. No one would ever think to hire him for any respectable position in that case.

He's fucked.

"Uhm..." He starts.

She sighs in exasperation and pinches the bridge of her nose. "Listen, I'll do you a favor. Let's just forget all about this and look the other way. As long as we never interact again, this will fade sooner rather than later and I'll have received my package from UPS or FedEx or whoever the fuck, and gotten a replacement for that really cute top you just ruined. Capiche?"

Eren sputters at her solution, staggering at the thought of never interacting and going their separate ways. Though, he supposes this is better than resorting to the black market. Perhaps they truly could move past this hurdle and live as simply acquaintances — acquaintances that harbored very ill memories of each other.

"Okay-" He began, only to get interrupted by a ping in her hand.

She had barely even glanced at it, really it was not a salient thing on her mind. She would have left it at a single glance would it not have been for several more following in succession. Only then did she spare it a second glance and the horror painted on her face was a tale tell sign that whatever it was that she read was not ideal.

"Oh no... no no no no, shit!" She cursed and rapidly tapped her fingernails on her illuminated screen.

A video played on her phone, loud enough to reach Eren's own ears. There was retching sounds, a gag, and then a splash. 'Are you fucking serious right now?! This is fresh Prada! Ugh, you indigent bum, I hope you know this costs more than your damn miserable life!' Followed after from the same velvety voice that made him weak in the knees.

"Evan-" She called as she shoved the phone towards Eren's face and his worst fears were confirmed.

Someone had recorded the entire event.

It was posted to the schools Snapchat, Instagram, and Twitter. There were comments, hundreds of them, and memes were already being made of Eren's face in pure agony. His teary eyes and sweaty face were plastered on every social media. He doesn't know if he's lucky that everyone is in class at the moment so that no one could actively laugh at him or if he was doomed because he's alone in a hallway with his newfound crush as his retching sounds echoed from the phone in her dainty hand.

"This is so bad! No one is gonna let this shit go anytime soon." She states as she reads the hundreds of loathing comments. "Look, I overreacted back there-"

"Just save it, okay? Thanks for walking me but I think I've got it from here." He says and hurriedly runs with his tail between his legs as she stares at his retreating form. Her jeweled hand finds itself aching to reach out, but she forces it to stay glued to her side.

"Well... fuck."

Three.

That's how many classes Eren has had to sit through as people stare and gawk at him. Some are bold enough to point and laugh, though never to the extent where they would say anything to his face, while others resorted to mocking him behind his back, but the worst of them all?

The ones that look at him with pity.

Eren absolutely abhors being pitied.

He hates it — hates to be babied and hates to be coddled. He's a grown ass 18 year old man (boy) and has no need for people to feel sorrow for him when he's the one controlling all of his own actions.

He's a grown ass man (boy), alright. A grown ass man (boy) that just finished crying in that, surprisingly clean, bathroom stall because of the sheer humiliation that he felt. The ignominy that he had a moment of weakness caught on camera and shared with the entire school. The indignity of the fact that he ran and cried uncle from her.

If only she hadn't been there, then maybe he would have been spared the embarrassment. If only Marco hadn't needed to take a shit. If only Jean hadn't been messing with Armin this morning, then perhaps he wouldn't have had to intervene and therefore would have arrived at Dr. Hange's room on time and missed Y/N's entrance, she would have never made him weak in the knees and tongue tied. Nothing would have been spilt aside from his drool. None of this would have happened.

All of those thoughts ran rampant in Eren's head, so much so that he didn't even notice the lunch bell had rung until he felt someone continuously poke his shoulder.

"Wow you have tiny shoulders!" A tall girl with brown hair pulled into a pony exclaimed.

Swatting her hands away, Eren asks irritated, "What do you want?" Though, he knew it was pointless. She was probably there to ridicule and taunt him into crying some more, which he would totally give into.

"Uhh, the lunch bell rang already, so-"

"Oh, t-thanks." He answers.

She didn't recognize him? She isn't laughing at or deriding him, that's amazing! Maybe people have already begun to forget! That's what always happens after a major incident, so perhaps his life will be back to norm-

"Hey, wait! Aren't you the guy from that video? Oh, man! You puked all over Y/N, didn't you?" She asks, throwing her head back in a guffaw. "Dude, I've never seen her make that face before-"

"Sash! Are ya coming or not? They're leaving us behind!" Calls a boy with a silver buzz cut, his head and torso peeking into the emptying classroom buoyantly.

"Hey, Connie! Come look! It's the guy from the video, the one that squirted his juices all over Y/N!"

"I did not squirt my juices!"

"No fucking way! Man, you're famous!"

Just as the lively boy was making his way over to Eren's desk, Eren abruptly stands from his seat, the metal scraping at the floor harshly, and hastily grips his backpack.

"Listen, just leave me alone. I did not squirt my juices and I most definitely am not famous. But, you know what? Since you're both so insistent, why don't I give you an autograph?!" He erupts and then shoves two of his fingers down the back of his throat, gagging in the process.

"Woah! No need, we're fine..." Connie takes a step back and shields himself with his arms.

Eren glares sneeringly, "Apologies, I must have squirted all my juices for the day, I'm all out." He bites sarcastically and stomps his feet all the way out the door.

"What's wrong with him?" Connie asks his friend.

"He seems really upset, I don't know why, though." She answers obliviously.

"Beats me," Connie shakes his head dismissively and charges on with why he was originally even there. "Anyway, I was trying to tell you that we should go before they run out of sloppy Joes! You know Reiner doesn't give a damn about his bank account when they serve those, and if we don't go now... they'll all be devoured."

"Devoured?!" She screeched. "I'll kill the big oaf!"

"Then hurry your fat ass up, he's got a head start already!"

"What if we jump him in the lunch line? Oh! We could take his wallet too!"

"Girl, he's six foot four. The only things you'll be jumping are his man knockers, now get your ugly ass to the cafeteria."

"I mean, if that was the result of my actions, you would not catch me complaining-"

"Let's. Go."

"Eren! Over here!" Armin, the blonde from this morning, called out.

Eren had just arrived at the expanse cafeteria, and to say he's about to piss his pants would be the understatement of the century. He had hoped to simply grab a tray of those magnificent looking sloppy Joes and then retreat back into the safety of the biggest stall available in the men's restroom to finish his crying session. Though, before he could even grab a tray, he was eagerly waved over by the goth girl and scrawny boy from earlier. They didn't seem to be laughing at his expense, and he had to admit, the familiar faces brought him a comfort he desperately needed at the moment.

"Hey," Eren greets as he sits across from the duo who contrasted each other so much so, it was almost amusing to him. They were sat at a round table near the back that allowed them clear views of the others surrounding them.

"Hey, how have you been?" Mikasa asks softly. He can tell she is trying her best to be as consoling as possible, considering the obvious shit day he's had.

"As well as I can be," He answers with a sigh and then drags his hands down his face in exhaustion. "I assume you guys have seen the video?" He asks with a wince, already having accepted what answer he would receive but still afraid of it. He settles his backpack on his lap and wraps his arms around its waist — he still hadn't stashed it away in his locker in fear of walking down that familiar hallway once again. It was as if he had developed PTSD or something of the sort that had him feeling like he would reenact the entire fiasco a second time. Not to mention, the hallway would surely be filled to the brim with other students and he couldn't bear to have all eyes on him again. Simply walking into the cafeteria had a dozen holes being burned on the back of his head, he doesn't want to imagine what kind of attention he would garner then.

"Everyone and their mothers have, I'm so sorry this is happening to you, Eren." Armin says sympathetically.

"Oh no, not the milfs." Eren grumbles as he squishes his face into the top of his bag.

"It's the plastics, Eren. What can you expect?" Mikasa grits bitterly, her eyes scrutinizing a table not far from her own. "I bet Y/N planned this all out, some kind of sick scheme to assert her dominance over the fresh meat."

"Mikasa... even if that were true, she's the one that got her clothes ruined. What good would that have done for her?" Armin rebuts.

The girl looks appalled that her friend would even ask such a thing. "Armin, she's loaded. The cost of an outfit like that is pocket change in her eyes." She reminds him. "Trust me, that was a minuscule loss to her father's bank account."

"Well, I certainly wouldn't put it past them." He agrees.

"Uhm," Eren interjects with a raise of his had as if he were in the middle of a lecture. "What the hell are 'The Plastics'?" He asks with his fingers making air quotations. "Armin mentioned them earlier too, so I asked Marco about it but he said he didn't know what I was talking about."

"Of course he said that, he's a part of the problem!" Mikasa exclaims a bit too loud for Armin's taste.

"Calm down Mikasa, they'll hear you!" He ushers the girl, not noticing he too has reached her level of volume. "Okay, Eren. If you want to survive, cause you're not gonna thrive unless you're one of them, you'll need to know who the hell they even are." He tells him whilst jutting his fingers in the direction that the girl beside him was just glaring at.

At a table not too far from their own, that they held a near perfect view of, sat a group of 8 teens. Although they all looked drastically different from each other, not to mention how they act, one thing was certain in what they had in common.

The blistering amount of confidence that oozed from their pores.

There was no doubt about where they all stood in the social hierarchy, the energy they exuded wouldn't allow any shred to sprout. The auras around them were asphyxiating and wouldn't let them go unnoticed, it was as if those same auras had wrapped their tendrils around each person present in the room, forcing them to bend knee to their will.

"Those eight are who we call 'The Plastics'." Armin explains.

"Cause they're all fake conniving bitches." Mikasa grits. It was clear that the girl had it out for them personally, though the reason for that is still a mystery to Eren.

"Tone it down, 'Kasa. They'll hear you."

"Whatever."

"This seems very personal. What'd they do to you?" Eren asks as he leans his chin on his palm.

"What do you mean?" The girl asks.

"Well, you seem to really hate them. Like you have some kind of personal vendetta."

"What's your point?"

"My point is, why?"

Before she can answer, Armin interjects, "Funny thing, Y/N and Mikasa were actually really-"

"Armin!" She interrupts his explanation, to which the boy sputters at her exclamation.

"What?"

"Can you not, right now?" She grits at the blonde, before she directs her attention back to the brunet before her. "We should give you a bit of background first, so you're somewhat familiar with who they are."

Both teens make intense eye contact before nodding their heads in sync and announcing, "Here's the mother fucking tea."

"Sasha Braus and Connie Springer," Armin says while jesting to a pair of students sitting beside each other, both having just sat down and were unleashing their wrath onto the other members of their table. It seemed they had been served whatever was left of the sloppy Joes which meant that they had less meat than the rest. "AKA: thing one and thing two. The most dumbest people you will ever meet, much more walk the planet."

"Armin sat beside them in Film theory last year." Mikasa adds.

The boy in topic nods vehemently, "They genuinely didn't know that Miley Cyrus and Hannah Montana were the same person."

"I honestly don't even know how they got in with that kind of crowd, maybe their looks?" Mikasa thinks aloud.

"Either way, be wary. Just because they're stupid, doesn't mean they aren't as vicious as the rest. They know everything about everyone and are almost always at the center of rumors and drama. Also both stupidly rich." Armin warns.

Eren's face grows distant as he looks their way, reminiscing on his own interaction with the two. "Those two laughed at me in class earlier. I nearly thought they hadn't recognized me, but of course that was too good to be true." He says.

"No surprise there," Mikasa scoffs, "One time, they were caught trying to kill a ferret. The devils almost suffocated the poor thing with their bags." She explains as her fists slam down on the table brutally.

Armin's shoulders jump at the sound of the impact and one of his hands fly towards his head to adjust the glasses on the bridge of his nose. "The worst of the worst." He agrees.

Pointing to the boy familiar to Eren's eyes, the galled teens continue, "Next, we have Marco Bodt - our student body president. The quote 'nicest person to ever grace these halls' end-quote... well I call bullshit."

"There's rumors that he's been sent by whatever god you believe in to watch over the plastics. To be completely honest, that was probably started by Connie or Sasha, which wouldn't surprise me."

"On the surface, he's a real nice guy... almost too nice." Armin adds as he squints his eyes in suspicion. "It makes you wonder if it's all a farce."

"Oh, it totally is. I've heard rumors of him snapping at others and then proceeding to bribe them to keep their mouths shut." Mikasa nods.

Eren begins to ponder all previous interactions he's had with the boy, almost saddened at the thought of Marco's extremely friendly demeanor being a farce. "I never thought of it like that, it sucks actually. I thought we could have been friends."

It's Mikasa's turn to warn the brunet this time, "Zon't zo it, girl. Zon't zo it."

"Now, Ymir..." Armin begins before his face scrunches up and his eyes shoot to the ceiling. "I'm gonna be honest, I have no idea what her last name is." He resolves.

"She's a part of the varsity girl's soccer team." Mikasa finishes as she juts her chin to a tall tanned girl sat beside Sasha. She donned dark brown hair tied into a low ponytail, and freckles littered her cheeks. She howled in laughter with her arm laid behind the seat of the blonde beside her. "She's a rude bitch and sarcastic to everyone except Historia, who she has a god obvious thing for. Well, obvious to everyone except Historia herself. Which brings us to-"

"Historia Reiss, she's your stereotypical popular girl — blonde, hot, and captain of the cheer squad." Armin interjects.

Next to Ymir was a small girl with vibrantly golden locks that could only be rivaled by Armin himself... not only that but they had nearly identical jeweled eyes. One could think they were somehow related, if not for their entirely opposing backgrounds. That one being Eren.

"Woah! Armin, is that your sister?!" Eren exclaims, staggering at their resemblance.

"What?! No!" The blonde exclaims, "Everyone always thinks that..." He grumbles with a roll of his eyes.

"I thought the same thing too." Mikasa snickers, "But, the more I've gotten to know Armin, the more contrary they get and now I can't even imagine them within an arms length of each other."

"Anyway! She's also crazy rich." Armin deflects.

"Uhm, isn't everyone in this school rich? I'm pretty positive I'm the only exception." Eren determines as he gestures to the rest of the tables littering the room.

Armin gapes like a fish out of water, "Well, yeah... but we mean Elon Musk rich! When we say rich at Trost, we don't mean normal rich, we mean buying an island rich. I have half the mind to seduce Reiner and get that bag, the big oaf won't know what hit him - I'd be set for life."

"How did you get in here, anyway? Are you like Einstein smart or what? What's your deal?" Mikasa bluntly asks.

"I wish." Eren answers, "In actuality, my dad's a doctor so we're doing well enough, though our net worth is nothing compared to everyone else here. I think I'd have to give the credit to my mom though, she recently got a new job in the fashion industry, which is why we had to move."

With a face that contradicts her words, Mikasa nods, "Interesting. Anyway, I heard Historia once made a girl cry in the restroom! Apparently, she cut the girl's hair because it looked better than her own." She informs them.

"That's downright cruel." Armin squeaks as he clutches the strands by his face.

"Next, we have... ugh, Jean." Mikasa groans and then faux vomits, which Eren finds to be insensitive, considering his experience with the action today.

"He's arrogant, cocky, and never leaves me alone." Armin grimaces.

"He's a wannabe delinquent and a whore for attention. Also, another addition to the stupidly rich club and best friends with Y/N. They're like Yin and Yang, but more alike than different." Mikasa glares at the fawn haired boy who is in the middle of flipping the bird to Ymir.

"Now, Reiner Braun. He's your stereotypical jock — blonde, hot, and captain of the men’s varsity lacrosse team."

"He's a weird one, sometimes leaning more towards a decent guy and then the next moment he's acting like... well, a jock. Pretty sure he has a thing for Y/N, too." Armin adds as the teen quite literally proves his point, feigning a yawn and laying his arm on the backrest of her chair. Though, the girl abruptly stands up and out of reach.

Weird.

"I think they've hooked up at least once. Of course, that's just what I've heard people whisper around them. No surprise, he's rich as hell as well." Armin finishes.

"And last but not least," Mikasa's once hard glare turns piercing and no longer exhibits a frosty aura. Instead, her irises project blazing infernos. "Y/N Ackerman. If the academy had a royal court, she'd be the one sat cozy on the throne. Queen bee, you could call her. She's also the captain of the girl's varsity soccer team. Don't be fooled, because she may seem like your typical selfish backstabbing slut faced hoe bag, but in reality she is so much more than that."

Eren can't help but feel as though those two have a personal history that can't be uncovered with a simple glance. Though, he notes how one sided it looks to be.

As he goes to glance at the girl they are currently gossiping about, he notices that her spot at the infamous table was vacant. The only people left were the rest of her friend group, all of which sporting dumbfounded faces.

Dumbfounded faces directed towards his own table.

Why are they looking his way?

"Hey, Evan, right?" Says that distinctly velvety voice that forces Eren to be grateful he's sat. His knees wouldn't have been able to handle his entire weight, not this time.

Mikasa gapes at the sight of the girl standing before their table, before she steels herself and returns to her signature glare. "It's Eren. Eren Jaeger." She reminds with gritted teeth.

Y/N noticeably winces at her slip up, "My bad, I'm terrible with names."

"It's fine! I'm just Eren." Eren hastily reassures as he stares up at her in a daze.

The girl chuckles softly, "Okay, just Eren." She corrects and then her eyes dart across the cafeteria to assure that all eyes were on her, as she intended. Her class did not disappoint. The oh so easily influenced senior class of Trost Academy granted her their fully undivided attention. Every breath turned stagnant, chewing halted, and conversations left on hold in hopes of finding out what the hell their most prestigious alumni wants with the social rejects.

She clears her throat and asks profoundly, "Why don't you come to my game today? We're playing home, and afterwards we're heading to my house to celebrate our inevitable win. There'll be pizza for dinner, on me." Her eyes dart to the other two across from him and her smile grows tight. "You can even bring your... friends." She says, though her words sound unsure and awfully forced.

Multiple beats of silence follow the offer, no one daring to move a muscle in fear of furthering their own confusion.

What? Why is this happening? What's her motive? Is she going to humiliate him again? Hadn't she had enough of that this morning? Eren wants to genuinely ask himself those questions, but in truth, he folds at her mere presence.

He's left with his jaw dropped and exchanges panicked glances with Mikasa and Armin.

Mikasa's expression of bewilderment fades into one of distaste and suspicion. "Now, why the hell would we do that? Princess."

"Because I'm inviting you? Obviously." The H/C girl retorts with the same bite in her tone. The room goes quiet once again, before she decides she has had enough and sighs in exasperation. "Look, I'm not about to grovel at your feet, I'd rather not crease my sneakers; they're Italian leather. You either come or you don't." She finishes and then leans Eren's way, causing him to catch a whiff of her floral perfume. "Think of this as a way for me to help you out a bit. You... didn't deserve that humiliation. Especially not on your first day." She whispers and juts her head to the eyes around them.

Oh, wow. It seems that she's attempting to make it look as if they are both on good terms, friends even. An attempt at fixing his reputation, which means she feels bad.

His heart is going to explode, and he's begging himself to keep whatever remains in his stomach where it should be.

His head nods buoyantly, "Yeah, I'm in love with yo-"

"Yes! We accept your invitation and will be cheering from the stands at 6 pm today. Don't worry your pretty little head, you'll see us there." Mikasa announces abruptly and fixes the girl a determined stare.

"Oh..." She breathes, almost as if she didn't expect the results she was given. "You're sure?"

"Yes, no take backsies." Mikasa says with a taunting smile.

"Okay then, cool. I'll- uh, see you guys later?" Her gaze moves to Eren for confirmation.

The boy nods dumbly, with pink dusting his cheeks. "Yeah, I'll love you lat- I mean! I'll see you later."

The corner of her lips rise slightly at his outburst and she tilts her head curiously, before she nods and retreats back to her seat beside Reiner, the seven sat around her giving her matching shocked expressions.

As everyone slowly snaps out of their dazes and begin to return to their own activities for the remaining of the time they had left, Y/N's friends aren't as willing to glide over what had just occurred.

"Y/N, what the hell was that? Since when do you do charity?" Asks Jean with a concerned expression.

"Don't tell me that's your way of atoning for the puking fiasco..." Ymir adds.

"We told you that it wasn't your fault, hon. It was the assholes that recorded everything and made it a bigger deal than it had to be." Historia reassures as she sits up from Ymir's hold.

"Are you beating yourself up about that, Y/N?" Connie asks sympathetically.

Reiner places his jacket onto the girl's shoulders and takes a hold of one of her palms comfortingly. "Do you want my last sandwich?" He offers.

"What? No, I mean sure I felt bad earlier but that's long since worn off. I'm trying to fix my own reputation here!" She answers boldly, "Have you seen the comments on the video? I'm being called a snobby uptight bitch. Yeah, no way am I gonna let that continue." She scoffs.

The entire table nods and murmurs their agreements, considering they probably would have done the same. It's not like she truly had harmful intentions, she just figured she could kill two birds with one stone.

"I'm not gonna lie though, can you really blame me for feeling just a tad bit bad for the guy? He already looks like a total loser. It's affecting him as much as it is me, so why not try to help the both of us out?" She explains, "Though, I didn't think they would actually agree. Especially Mikasa."

"So... no sandwich?" Reiner asks again.

"Rei, of course I want your sandwich." She answers and he happily slides his tray her way.

"To be honest, the kid's weird for projectile vomiting on his first day, but I can get behind your idea." He admits as he leans back in his chair.

"Well, you've surely seen better days." Marco comments sympathetically. "You sure you're fine?"

"Yeah," She answers, "Though, I barely got any sleep last night. Auggie had his band over because dad wasn't home, and he learned how to work the power box, so now I can't just turn it off whenever I want because the fucker will just turn it back on." She sighed as she bit into her sloppy Joe.

"Ooh! When are they gonna play for us again? They're improving so fast, I bet we could get them to play at Miche's Diner." Sasha suggests eagerly. "Speaking of, when the hell are we going back? It's been forever since I had that mouthwatering burger in my stomach!"

"Sasha, you're slobbering. Also, we literally went last weekend, what do you mean 'forever'?" Jean reminds the girl.

"I said what I meant and I meant what I said."

"Anyway, lighten up, Y/N. That loser is hardly important enough to let him get you down." Jean chuckles as he ruffles her hair, effectively tarnishing her picture perfect hairstyle.

The girl groans and jerks her head away, "I'd never let a man tell me what to do, now fix my hair you rat. I can't be seen like this." She finishes and points a manicured finger to her head, which the boy rolls his eyes at but accedes nonetheless.

"Oh, I know!" Marco exclaims with a nearly visible lightbulb above his head. "Why don't I bring Megan over to your house tonight after the game? That'd be nice, wouldn't it?" He suggests after having been brainstorming a way to lift her spirits.

"Oh wow! Yes, I miss Megan so much, please bring him over Marco!" Sasha says as she throws her torso on the table, cupping her hands together in a pleading motion.

"Yeah, I've been needing my weekly trauma dump, so that'd be nice for me too." Reiner agrees.

"I haven't been able to buy him snacks because I've been saving up for my club penguin membership." Connie whines dramatically.

"Connie, you're loaded. What are you talking about?" Jean deadpans.

The boy crosses his arms and glares at his freckled friend beside him, "Well, someone here said I couldn't use my parents' money on Megan anymore."

The boy in question simply rubs the back of his neck and chuckles, "Well, last time I let you, you ended up buying him way more than just food. Trust me, you've given him enough, get your club penguin membership."

"Look cueball, all you've gotta do is make a couple bets on who you think is gonna win tonight and then when we inevitably do, you'll have enough for Megan, your membership, and more. Donezo." Ymir says with a smirk, obviously very confident in her team's skills.

"And where the hell am I gonna find someone willing to bet against you guys?"

"Just go to the other side of the stands, Stohess is cocky as shit. Trust me, you'll find tons of betting twerps."

"Cool, good point."

"Now, let's just hope your new friends aren't bad luck charms, Captain." The brunette turns towards the girl in topic. "Last thing we want is this attempt at mending reputations to come bite us in the ass."

"Oh please, Ymir." Y/N scoffs sarcastically, "You make it seem like they're out to get us." She chuckles at the idea.

"Even if they were, what's the worst they could do?"

"Guys, what the hell just happened?" Eren asks with his mouth agape. Armin brings his hand up to close his jaw manually.

"I think we just got invited to a party? Is it even a party? Only the plastics ever get to celebrate with the captain after their wins, of course there are a few exceptions but I never thought we would ever be included in those exceptions!"

"I think I almost creamed my pants." Eren murmurs as he calms his heart rate from his latest interaction. "Wait," He redirects his attention to the ravenette, "Why the sudden change of heart, Mikasa? I could have sworn you were committing mental arson just now."

"Don't you guys see? This is our chance — we can finally get close to the plastics and ruin them from the inside out." She explains with a menacingly calculative expression on her face.

Both boys gawked at the girl and the sheer audacity she had to suggest such a thing, until Armin couldn't bear to contain his disbelief. "Are you crazy, Mikasa?! What are you on? How would we even pull that off?!"

"I don't want to do that, you sound psychotic. This is like some weird wannabe spin-off plot from some 2000's movie that we would never do justice and leave all the viewers complaining about how we should leave iconic films alone." Eren states adamantly. Her idea sounds cruel and he honestly doesn't know if they would deserve to be the pawns of some sort of revenge plot.

"Eren, she humiliated you. You might have your doubts of if she meant to ruin your first day at a school such as this one, but that's just how she works." Mikasa grits and her piercing stare somehow grows even fiercer than ever before. "She makes you think she cares and then when you need her the most? Bam! She drops you like a damn potato. She's the most backstabbing bitch to ever backstab!" She defends herself whilst her hands repeatedly make stabbing motions towards the boy's chest.

Eren's face contorts into a grimace, "This seems more like it's for your own vengeance than mine." He states as his arms cross over his chest.

"Yeah, Mikasa." Armin interjects, "Even though I don't like them very much, ruining their lives is a little too far; even for me."

The girl steadies her breath as she calms herself and reels in her resentment. "Alright, relax. I just worded it wrong." She reassures, though Eren doesn't know if he believes her. "What I meant is that we should take this opportunity to mess with them a bit. Maybe knock them down a peg, no biggie. We have nothing better to do and it's not like this invitation will actually spark some type of friendship with any of them. It would simply never work."

"...How would you know that?" Eren asks, though what he really means is, why? For what reason would no sort of relationship have the ability to form? Was the idea of being associated with people of their status so inconceivable?

"Eren, she couldn't even remember the name of the guy she completely humiliated just a couple of hours ago. Your name. She couldn't remember your name. Trust me, I know."

Ouch. That one cut deep, much to his surprise.

"Well... perhaps this would get Jean to leave me alone. At least for some time?" Armin mutters with his chin between his index and thumb.

"Exactly," Mikasa agrees. "Armin stops his bully, Eren gets his revenge, and I get the pleasure of partaking in and watching the collapse of the hierarchy."

Armin giggles conspicuously, "I mean, as long as this is just a bit of horseplay... nothing different than playing chess, right? I'm in."

The pair then turn their heads to the remaining member of their newly formed trio, who seems to be in deep thought.

Is Mikasa right? Could this simply be a game to Y/N? One that she would have no problem turning and stabbing him in the back in order to win? Everything Mikasa and Armin have said makes perfect sense, they sound like an awful group of people. But if so, why the hell is Eren hesitating so much?

He resides to closing his eyes and takes a thoroughly deep breath, relaxing his mind for what he can tell is a monumental moment that will determine his experience at Trost Academy. If he accepts, who knows what could go down? Not to mention, he might end up on the IT girl's shitlist. Though, if he declines, Mikasa and Armin would ditch him and then he'd be all alone in this enormous school filled with people who ridicule him left and right.

He can hear them laughing from the distance, condescending laughs that grow distinct the longer he keeps his eyes shut. They were taunting, as if they were testing his will or patience...

No.

Eren does not want to experience humiliation any longer. He hates to feel inferior and for as long as they are still standing, that feeling won't disappear.

Knowingly declaring war, Eren announces his final decision. "Alright, what do you have in mind?"

Mikasa's eyes grew darker than they have ever been, and Eren could almost see the snake slithering around in the deep irises that made up Mikasa Ackerman's mercury eyes. "Thanks for asking, I've already got an idea. It's got to do with tonight's game. After all, what's a queen without her throne?"

And as the vindictive girl begins to elucidate her plan, Eren finds his gaze straying to the girl that stood above him moments ago. She's sat at her table at the center of the room, or was it truly the center of the room? Perhaps it simply felt that way. Eren was convinced that no matter where she stood, she would always be the center in his eyes.

He doesn't know if he likes that fact.

She laughs at the way Jean ruffles her hair for the fourth time, berates the boy, and then returns the favor. And Eren can feel his heart crack just the slightest bit as he thinks of what he agreed to partake in. He feels as though if his heart ruptures just a few more times, it'd bleed out. Though, perhaps it will already be too late then, and he wonders just whose will break first.

But, then again, Eren has always been a sore loser.

Tag list: @idreamitski @str4wberrylover @jesus-son-of-god @hoejosblindfold [dm or comment to be added or removed!]

A/N: Happy birthday Eren! My little war criminal ♥︎

182 notes · View notes