#tw male violence

[troonpatrol]

Horrifying.

[burningtheroots]

Men who brag about being "providers" and "protectors" for/of women believe that "protecting" a woman from other men makes them entitled to owning & abusing her. They don’t want to "protect" her out of love or decency, they merely want to protect their ability to abuse her first.

All they "provide" are further abuse, oppression, and (often deadly and/or sexual) violence.

[jellyfishfem]

Vienna: 5 women found dead in the span of a day.

4 women and a girl were found dead in Vienna. On Friday night, 3 women were found in a red light club in Vienna-Brigittenau. They had massive cut and stab wounds. A suspect was found. Before that, a 51 year old woman and her 13 year old daughter were found dead in their flat in Vienna-Landstrasse. Cause of death coud have been blunt force.

[castleprincess]

"A Houston rapper allegedly kidnapped a homeless woman and held her captive in his garage for at least four years before she managed to get access to the suspect's computer to call rescuers, officials said.

The woman allegedly held by Lee Carter, 52, was found in April but the arrest on a charge of felony aggravated kidnapping only happened on Thursday, court records and Carter’s attorney said.

Records do not explain why it took authorities nearly nine months to arrest the suspect. The condition of the woman, who prosecutors say was 70 pounds and pregnant when authorities located her, was unclear Monday."

Four years! Four whole years being held and abused by that man! They need to lock him up and throw way the key!

[marcos--budt]

[tra-archive]

The 30% of men who turned down that French guy’s request to rape his wife are NOT innocent. Because absolutely 0% of those men turned him in. They were complicit in this horrific crime.

I think one of the things that fills me with rage the most is people who know that a woman is being abused (or about to be) but don’t speak up. This includes women too, because I’ve unfortunately seen women turn their backs on other women in situations like this. This has to stop. People need to speak the fuck up if they know something like this is going on.

Gisèle deserved so much better and I hope that man gets the shit beat out of him in prison.

[troonpatrol]

Men commit 99% of rapes. Men's favourite porn is just violence against women, pedophilia and incest. Men get off when women share their sexual trauma. The entertainment industry produces what men want to see. Fan service is an established concept. We have established that men enjoy seeing rape.

So why are women still expected to accept that rape scenes,scenes of sexual violence that barely change the story, incest, and pedophilia, why are women expected to accept something that all men around you will tell you..."It's ACTUALLY there to be more realistic 🧐, this movie is gritty", a man will watch something tagged forced,stepsibling, stepmom, barely legal, every night, and then tell you that Game of thrones is the best and rape is horrible and only included for historical accuracy.

[vulva-venus-hates-that-penis]

[lizardho]

I think the worst day I had as a missionary is hard to pin down – for comedy bad day stories, I like to talk about my cute companion who ripped three pairs of pants in one day because his ass was so fat. Literally, two in the morning, we missed 3 appointments in the afternoon because people kept cancelling on us, and we ended up far away from home visiting “Less Actives” in the downtown area. We find a family who says we can come in once their dad get home, and we sit down to wait for the dad to get in and RIIIPPP goes the third pair of slacks this man wore that day. I hand him my suit jacket and he wraps it around his waist like a bashful adolescent who just started his period at an inconvenient time. We catch a ride home on a bus and ended up home an hour early. He cried for like 30 minutes while stitching up his pants, and I got to rest a lot more than expected that day. We ordered a 4-cheese pizza and went to bed early that night, having walked probably 5-6 miles that day knocking doors and getting turned away.

Another bad day was the day the Mexico City Temple was re-opening. It was a funny experience for me because the evening before I was contacted by the Mission President and told that an elder in our district had confessed some serious sins to him and that those sins precluded him from going to the temple. The MP told me that nobody in this elder’s ward could get time off to babysit him so he was begging one of us – I didn’t want to go to the temple, it was a crappy way to spend a P-Day in my opinion, so I told the MP I’d do it. I spent the day eating popsicles and napping with an elder who, in between Bolis and naps, would shakily and tearfully confess that no fewer than half of his companions had secret phones they used to watch porn, hire prostitutes, and buy drugs. This was bewildering to me since I had been Trying So Hard my whole mission and had always felt inadequate, and these elders who were doing better than me and more respected than me were somehow out here fucking, doing drugs, and jorkin’ it.

I was actually in a “Punishment Area” at the time because in my last area one of my life-threateningly attractive companions had gone into the homes of widows to repair their electrical wirings (he was a trained electrician prior to going on a mission.) Being alone in the home of an 80-year-old widow with failing lights was “against the rules” to the extent that me mandaron a la goma, and some handful of guys I’d been told to view as role models were out here breaking actual laws and shit. Of course, I knew in my heart of hearts that I was in this area because of the Deep Evil that Lay Within My Heart (wanting to kiss Elder Electrician on his stupid himbo lips) but my MP could not have known that, just like he didn’t know that the guys he was making Zone Leaders were getting their dicks sucked and snorting cocaine. That honestly felt outrageous to me.

I feel like the stereotypical “worst day” of a mission is the last day – they take you to the airport in a big van, all melancholy and nostalgic. We sang on our drive to the airport – elders and sisters tearfully sang or hummed hymns together. I was deadpan the whole time, it was such a relief to be going home. For me the worst part of the day was the relief – the release of pressure. The pressure to perform, to be “on,” to be at your best, is omnipresent for elders. I was the only person flying to Phoenix, so for the first time in two years I felt a release from that pressure. Nobody was scrutinizing me, I no longer felt that every thought, action, and feeling was being evaluated and judged as a sign of my true character. It was hard to realize, a the pressure let up, that I had been holding all that weight for two years without knowing when it had started. I remember getting confused in Customs and needing someone who spoke Spanish to talk to me because I kept forgetting words in English. I remember getting home and my family waiting for me and feeling like it was all finally done, finally over, I could finally breath. It didn’t feel bad, but it did feel heavy. And it definitely was not the worst day of my mission.

The actual worst day of my mission, though, was about 5 months in. At the 6-month mark I was expected to make a long trip down to an area of town near La Basilica de Guadalupe to submit my visa paperwork, and the mission office had sent me an extra $500 MX to use for transportation costs. When I withdrew the money they had sent for the month, I noticed it was higher than expected. My companion, a senior companion and district leader, had the cell phone. He was talking to another elder while he waited for me to withdraw my monthly deposit. I approached and asked if I could use the cell phone to call the mission office, as I had questions. He said “no,” and ignored me. I waited until the conversation ended and asked again, and again, angrily, he said, “No.” I said “Elder, relax, I just need to call the mission office to see why they sent me more this month than usual.” His face turned red as he realized other elders were watching the exchange occur. He handed me the phone, I called and was told the money was for transportation costs, and laughingly returned the phone to my companion. He took it, told the other elders he needed to tie his shoe but they could head on over to the District Meeting, and waited until they were out of eyesight. Once that was done, he grabbed me hard by the wrist, dragged me into a hidden corner out of earshot from others, and said, “If you ever disrespect me or my authority again I swear to God I will kill you.”

I was actually shocked. This guy had spent the last month and a half being SUPER nice to me, so I thought he was kidding and I was just confused. I laughed and said “Haha, yeah, your authority over the cell phone is sacred,” and tried to walk away but he didn’t let go of my wrist. He pulled me back and said “I will literally slit your throat if you ever talk to me like that again. As senior companion my authority over YOU is sacred, and I will not let God be mocked by you.”

I realized that he was serious. Like, actually threatening-my-life serious. I could see it in his eyes, I could feel it in the way he squeezed tighter on my wrist. In actuality, the idea seems laughable now. The guy was absolutely chickenshit. He cried if his shits were too hard, he couldn’t end a human life, but I still didn’t let myself fall asleep first for the rest of our time together. And I still hid the two knives we had in a different area while he was showering the next morning.

If I’m being honest though, even that wasn’t the worst day of my mission. That was bad, and each subsequent time he told me he was going to cut my throat for minor infractions against his God-Given Authority Over Me (like not wearing a belt for morning scripture study, or not taking the path he thought was best to get to a lesson) was a bad day. Every P-Day where he read my emails over my shoulder to make sure I wasn’t telling my parents about how he was treating me, every day he told me that the ward members would never believe me over him, every day he put me down in front of other elders and they laughed in agreement, every day he was in a bad mood and took it out on me was a bad day. But the worst day was the day I told the mission president about it. I told him about the threats to my life, his temper, his physical abuse, hiss manipulation and rule-breaking, and the mission president told me “The time to tell me this was 6 months ago. The time to forgive him and focus on your own failings is now.”

I don’t think I’ve ever felt as confused or betrayed as I did then. Like, man oh man, that was a rough thing to hear, but as the day went on I kept feeling more and more confused and scared – had I misinterpreted everything? Had I miscommunicated something in telling the story? Had I not been objective enough in recounting the threats against my life? Was it true that a senior companion actually had the authority to hurt me if I went against his authority? Was I wrong the whole time? I had no idea, to be honest, but it was bewildering.

Knowing now what I wish I had known then, I would have done things differently. But in the moment, on a mission, knowing that my biggest reason for going on a mission was the hope that the Spirit of God, which hymns told me burns like fire, would burn the faggot out of my heart. I think I felt like I deserved it. Like somehow that elder knew the evil I was hiding and felt compelled by God’s power to hurt me. I think that’s what made it so hard to defend myself in the moment – I did not have that problem with other elders. The companion who told me we were gonna wrestle to settle an argument lost three consecutive matches and pouted about it for like a week. The elder who threatened to punch me for making a joke at his expense got knocked on his ass just for raising his fist. But this elder got into my head first, and that made it hard to fight against it. Instead of fighting against it, I just silently lived with actual, verifiable, diagnosed, by-the-book, DSM-5-TR Posttraumatic Stress Disorder because I thought I deserved it. It took consistent supervision of my clinical work revealing countertransference with Male LDS clients (I consistently discussed addressing shame in a client’s presentation where no shame or discomfort had been reported), an awkward conversation with @inbabylontheywept after an even more awkward dinner with a cousin who vaguely reminds me of that companion, and a bad acid trip where I had visceral flashbacks to my mission, before I was able to realize that I was living with a pain that was as abnormal as it was unnecessary.

Even once I realized it, even once I got help, it was hard. I remember telling jokes about what happened to my therapist and seeing her jaw just…drop. She said she didn’t know it had been that dangerous for me. The session ended and he sent me the PCL-5 (a good, evidence-based, highly face-valid measure for PTSD) and some other measure for dissociative symptoms and I was like “Girl, I just took this class, I know what you’re trying to measure and this ain’t it.” I reported my symptoms accurately and was fully prepped to confront her the next session. She showed me my scores and the norms used, and I was like “Oh fuck, this looks really bad on paper,” and she was like “Yeah, I can’t imagine living like this” and I just sobbed for most of that session. We ended up doing 9 months of TF-CBT and ACT (largely because I am a terrible and uncooperative patient, realistically I think I could have been done in like 5-6 months if I wasn’t so stubborn) before I was discharged from treatment successfully.

The thing that was so weird about starting therapy for PTSD was that it made things feel worse for a while. I started taking edibles a lot more. I started behaving differently around family members and Mormons. I started being outright hostile to elders I could see. It took about 3 months before I could see the missionaries and not have an actual fight-or-flight response to their presence. I think the way I had made it a far as I did without getting treatment was by repressing the thoughts, feelings, and memories that made it all hurt, and a soon as I let them just be there it was like all the confusing aching hurt came back. The first few months of therapy were just spent expanding the amount of time I could feel that hurt before turning to other means (like dissociation, cannabis, repression, etc.) so I could actually address the experiences without crashing the rest of the day. It was hard. I know I ended several sessions sweating a LOT from the exertion it took to just let the feelings happen. By 6 months, however, I could go into a church building without blacking out from panic. By 9 months I could sit in the same room as elders without sweating and shaking like a chihuahua on Adderall. 3 months after therapy and me and my supervisors noticed that my work with Mormon men had improved substantially. 6 months after therapy and I was able to begin writing anonymous stories online. Now, about two years after completing therapy, I feel like I can talk about it without needing the cloak of anonymity, and that is empowering.

Again, I am not sure why I’m typing these stories out – they’re not fun to write, I don’t love that my family can find these posts, but I guess I just like to remind myself and others that it can always get better. That mind numbing platitude, the old thought-terminating cliché that “it gets better, just power through it” doesn’t give enough credit to how much it hurts to get through it, but it does get better. There is a light at the end of the tunnel. The triggers can go away with time, great effort, significant expense, and a lot of discomfort. The world can feel safe again, the hurt can feel bearable, that nagging worry that I might have deserved this, or that I did something wrong, can eventually go away too. It’s not easy to do it, and I have an incredible respect for the patients of mine who can pull it off, but it is undeniably as doable a it is difficult. If this story resonates with anyone, if it feels close-to-home, if these experiences feel shared, just know that the relief I talked about can feel shared too. Know that it’s worth it to get the help, that you deserve the help, that you deserve to live a life that doesn’t hurt you, that you deserve to be a full person and not a living prison for the pain and memories. Know that healing yourself does not involve extending forgiveness to Them, whoever They are. That the pain you felt will not be made less important by making the pain less potent. Know that taking care of yourself now is, in a way, taking care of yourself then. And Please, with a capital P, take care of yourselves.

Thank you to my family, especially my immediate family (special shout outs to @flowerologists and @inbabylontheywept) for the support and patience with me as I dealt with this.

Thank you to my therapist, Jordin Borques, who I recommend highly to anyone seeking trauma therapy in Arizona.

Thank you to my wife, @cintailed, for being the push that got me into therapy, and for taking care of me at my worst and still being here with me.

Thanks to my mission president for being such a colossal disappointment to Christianity that my departure from the church was inevitable.

And a general thanks to the queers for being so cute and making life worth living, even on bad days.

[amostnobleyandere]

Persephone, Swept Away Into the Deep

Yandere! Wriothesley x GN! Reader

Summary: You’re a florist who catches the eye of the Duke, ruler of the underworld in Fontaine—and as the object of his affection, there’s nothing you can do to avoid your fate.

Warning(s): yandere, toxic behavior, possessive behavior, mention of blood, violence (Wriothesley beats someone up), stalking, obsessive behavior, unjust execution of the law, possessive behavior, corrupt official Wriothesley (?), drugging (needle injection), kidnapping, captivity, implied stalking, non-consensual touching, forced romantic relationship

A/N: I’m not sure if I did a good job at translating the themes ✨ of the hades and Persephone myth (however slight they may be in this particular fanfic) but I tried ;)

—————————

Every happy customer that came out of your shop would inevitably spread your business through tongue—that’s just the way things worked in Fontaine.

Of course, you weren’t complaining. You were running a thriving business and their lively conversations often brought you joy and pride. The little gardener on off of main street, the florist who sells the most beautiful bouquets you’ve ever seen, the flower shop tucked away like a hidden gem, they’d say, fondness in their tone and the echo of good memories in their minds.

You were proud of the lifestyle you had made for yourself and the reputation you had garnered. Your natural green thumb had made your shop quite popular among commoners and socialites alike, as anyone of any class could stroll inside to find something for a person precious to them; whether it was a child, a spouse, a friend, or an infatuation, you had helped mold their stories, crafting and shifting them around petals and bows.

Though some days, you let yourself dream. Of petals and bows, not meant for someone else, but meant for you. Though your business had seen many love stories, its owner had yet to find a love of their own.

On your worst days, you scoffed and thought to yourself about how ironic your life was.

But…some days, your aching romantic heart would have you sighing wistfully as you watched customer after customer buy carefully cultivated blooms to gift to their beloved. They would leave gleefully, only for you to remain in your shop, watching them walk out with a piece of you. A piece that you wanted to give to your own special someone.

Always watching, never experiencing.

And then suddenly, everything you had built was being torn down by the one thing you desired the most.

—————————

On a day that was insultingly ordinary considering the damning events that followed it, you were sitting in your shop, furiously pruning flowers and cutting stems and leaves. You were a little behind in work, so you had kept your shop open later than you usually would.

A festival was going to be thrown at the center of the city, and that meant you were busier than ever. Business was slow at the time, but it always picked up during events, as it was common for people to take advantage of the merry mood and ask out the apple of their eye, or propose, or buy a bouquet just to enjoy life.

And your bouquets were certainly beautiful, as you had heard from the many couples that walked into your shop, fawning over the arrangements and each other. You were sure you would see many lovers come into your shop once the joyous celebrations began.

You sighed, feeling the solitude of the your profession begin to seem depressing. It made you happy knowing your creations would be appreciated, yet, you knew the festival would end up torturing your heart with the same stale loneliness you often felt.

Friends had invited you to come with them to enjoy the festival together, so you weren’t all alone. Ultimately, you had declined.

Business would be booming.

…Plus, it wouldn’t be as special if you couldn’t go with someone special. It would only hurt to go out into the bustling streets and to see all those people holding hands, touching arms, carrying your bouquets, while your side was cold and your hands were empty…

You snipped at a rainbow rose a little too hard, hissing as the tip of the shears nicked your finger. You watched in mild panic and exasperation as the blood began to fill the small cut, feeling a sting form in your finger. Reaching for the medical kit you kept close by, you swiftly treated and bandaged yourself, watching the gauze go from white to a bright red.

Shaking your head, you waved away the pain and your nasty thoughts. You were sure your friends would be fine without you and, more than anything, you needed to be here to sell your flowers. It would be a waste to throw out your beautiful blooms because you let them wither, and soon customers would be grabbing for them…and who knows? Maybe you might meet someone.

Maybe you would even find someone to enjoy the festival with….

You heard the telltale ding of a bell and looked up, peaking out from behind the wall of floral remains you had constructed around yourself.

A man walked into the shop, and the first thing you noticed is that he was handsome. And big. Like, slightly intimidating big. A large, built stature, with broad shoulders and heavy boots on long legs. You pinched yourself, feeling your cheeks slightly heat up. Who were you to get flustered? And by a stranger? Pull it together.

“Hello!” You greeted cheerily, thankfully turning on your usual customer service voice without problem. “How can I help you today?”

“You’re still open?” The man asked, a note of surprise in his voice. The question sounded weirdly familiar for it to be spoken by a stranger, but you chose to ignore it. Plenty of people knew your hours, it wouldn’t be odd for one of them to send a new customer over.

You paused, taking him in. The stranger was tall, dark, and brooding, a person that looked strangely out of place in your little safe haven that was crammed to the brim with mosaics of colorful flora.

However, his eyes were the clearest color you had ever seen. They were like steel in their cool quickness, taking seconds to size you up. You unconsciously shrunk under the pressure of his gaze. Still, you smiled up at him.

“Yes, sir. We’re still open. What can I get for you?”

“Well, to tell you the truth, I’m not exactly sure. I came here because of a recommendation; they say you’re the best in town, with the freshest flowers. I’m guessing you outsource from the country?”

“No, sir. I grow them myself.” You said, still smiling sweetly.

A flash of recognition behind those steel eyes. “Ah. You’re the owner then?”

“Yes, sir.”

He hummed, looking away in thought. “I’d like an all blue bouquet—something with an air of delicacy to it. Nothing too fancy, just something pretty and light.”

That sounded…really romantic. Delicate? Pretty? Those were words people used to describe bouquets with romantic intentions behind them. You had heard them time and time again, as you carefully put together arrangements and your customer fawned over the person it was for, tone sugary sweet. Those words never failed to clog up your chest with a bitter jealously.

A feeling of disappointment filled your chest and your heart sank. Of course, he was already going with someone. It seemed that everyone, except for you, had a date for the festival. Of course. That made sense. Anyone that good looking would most likely have a date—

You smiled, sweeping away the disappointment and putting back on a false merry face. You had just met this man, really. What was there to be sad about? You decided to fill the silence that was quickly making you want to curl up into a ball and hide.

“So you’ve got a date for the festival? I’m sure they’ll love it, since you seem to know what they’ll like. Can I get a name for the order?”

“Wriothesley. And, no. I haven’t got a date.”

Your brain short circuited.

“But you’re so good looking?” You blurted out, the thought in your head coming out of your mouth without warning.

Wriothesley looked momentarily stunned, and you wanted to scream. Of all the times to embarrass yourself in front of a cute guy, it had to be now—

“A-Ah!” You stuttered out. “I’m sorry! Sometimes my mouth moves faster than my brain! I just said what I was thinking, I hope you’re not insulted by it…or uncomfortable….not that I meant to insult you—“

He laughed, the sound startling you. When he looked at you again, he seemed less guarded, his eyes shining with mirth as he gazed at you with interest. Oh, and that smile. Oh wow. That. Wow.

“You know, people are usually too afraid to say stuff like that to my face. Or really, they’re too afraid to say anything to my face. Guess I was just lucky to meet you today, huh?” He grinned and let his voice drop as he spoke. The glint in his eyes turned bright, like a dancing flame. He leaned into your space, letting one arm rest on the counter.

You felt the smooth words roll down your back and over your skin, excitement or fear (or maybe a mix of both) running up your spine and through the rest of your body.

You laughed, trying to play off his words as if they were meant to be friendly. (At least, you thought they were meant to be friendly.) Maybe the naturally deep tone of his voice and his intimidating aura made your brain misinterpret harmless words as…predatory.

You grinned. “Well, I don’t know about luck, but everyone deserves a compliment every once in a while, right?”

He leaned back, that dangerous glint disappearing into his eyes as if it was never there. He crossed his arms, looking smug.

“Right.”

Silence filled the air again, and your curiosity got the best of you quickly.

“Goodness, I’m sorry but who is this for then?”

He chuckled and you were immediately relieved that he wasn’t annoyed with you. People didn’t like it when others pried into their business. The thought of Wriothesley with his leather boots, pretty face, and icy eyes glaring at you with disdain nearly sent you into shock.

“It’s for…a co-worker, you could say.” He continued. “She does a lot for me and I thought it might be nice to get her a gift to show my appreciation. Everyone’s in a good mood with the festival coming around, so I might as well, you know?” He smiled. “Sorry to disappoint you, though. No romantic feelings involved.”

You nodded, a weird feeling of relief filling your chest after finding out that a man you didn’t know and that you probably would never see again did not have a date for the festival.

Maybe you were just glad to know that you wouldn’t be the only person going without a partner.

You began to gather sample flowers, spreading them out between you fingers and taking comfort in the familiar weight of them in your hands.

“Not disappointed at all.” I’m also single, you thought, but thankfully didn’t say out loud. “I guess I’ve just gotten so used to lovebirds walking into my shop, I was surprised you weren’t one of them.”

“Because of my face?” He asked, amusement seeping into his tone. You wanted to smack that smile right off of his smug, beautiful face. Of course, you wouldn’t, because that would be a crime to everyone else who had eyes. You couldn’t mess up that piece of art.

You nodded, your face burning. “Because of your face.” You confirmed.

“Well, I’m flattered.” He said.

You thrusted the sample flowers out in front of you, mortified that he was making your already embarrassing situation worse with teasing.

“Pick out the ones you like.” You said, your face practically on fire.

He did, without further comment at that, but a smirk pulled at his lips the entire time. He looked at you, with that grin molded onto his perfect lips, more than he did the flowers in your hands.

He refrained from torturing you with teasing remarks for the rest of the conversation, and when you told him it would be ready for pick up in a few hours, he gently placed a bag of mora on the counter.

Only when he was walking out the door did you realize how much mora he had given you.

Your eyes bulged as you peeked into the bag, nearly fainting at the amount. Who carries this much on them?! What if he had gotten robbed?! Well, he would probably never get robbed looking like…that, but still.

“Hey!! Wait—Sir!! You gave me way too much!”

He waved as he closed the door behind him, the bell ringing cheerily as he ignored you protests without even turning around.

You stood gaping behind the counter. You turned to the bag, determinedly picking out the correct amount and putting the rest away so that you could throw it at him when he came back. Not his face, though. Never his face.

A few hours later, he came back, his face neutral and undisturbed, like nothing in the world could move him to react.

He saw you, and his expression twitched and changed, looking just as smug as when he left.

You wordlessly pushed his bouquet, which you had worked extra hard on out of spite, not because you wanted him to like it or anything, towards him. Again, without saying anything, you pushed the bag of mora back towards him.

He quirked an eyebrow but kept his mouth shut, also determined to win the quiet challenge that you had started. He (rather cheekily) slid the bag back towards you, a smile fighting to pull onto his face.

You, more forcefully this time, slid the bag back towards him, face betraying no emotion.

Eyes sparking with amusement, he held out his hand.

Oh my Archons. You thought. What does that mean? He doesn’t want to….does he? You hesitatingly raised your hand in response, suspicious of the man in front of you. He gently slid his hand under yours, making your heart pound in your rib cage. His gloves covered most of his hand, but the skin that did touch you was startlingly cold. Your skin downright tingled where his touched yours.

Whether it was from the temperature or just him, you didn’t know.

He placed the bag of mora in your hands, a graceless plop and a cheerily jingle sounding through the quiet room.

Okay. You take it back. This mora was going directly at his face.

“This mora is going right at your face.”

“What?”

“What?” You parroted. Inside, you were crying. The first time you’ve ever threatened a customer and it’s the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen.

He chuckled, the sound low and deep and long and archons even his laugh sounded angelic.

“I could’ve sworn you just—“

“I didn’t.” You cut him off, panicking. You pushed the bouquet towards him, hiding behind it. “Enjoy your day. Thank you for your purchase. Have fun at the festival.”

“…Thanks.” He said, still amused, but following your lead and taking the flowers from your waiting hands. For a moment, maybe on purpose, his hands brushed yours, the touch sending a spark of electricity up and down your arms, making your heart beat faster….Must have been the cold from his skin, sending you into shock or something.

He left the shop (without the bag of mora) and you wistfully thought that you would never see that beautiful face again, kicking yourself for not asking him out. You were both single, right? Right??

Ultimately, you went home with the same familiar wistful feeling that soon turned to giddiness at having almost held hands with such a handsome man—his personality was odd but that could be overlooked.

Overall, it was a good day.

——————————

Except he was there the next day.

And the next.

….And the next.

Everyday he would order a bouquet of a different color. Once he ran out of colors, he began grilling you on what kinds of flower combinations you liked best. You would tell him, practically shaking while trying to prevent yourself from imploding, and that’s what he would order. He spent an enormous amount of money at your shop as the ridiculous mora bag battles continued (you were going to throw it at his face, you really were. You just needed to muster up the courage).

He would take the flowers home, and you would be left with a burning face and a quivering heart.

Then one day he asked you if you would like to go out. With him. Together. And you said yes, tying a bow around his order with trembling hands as a strangling giddiness filled up your entire chest.

So, you went to the festival with him right after work.

For the first time in weeks you were closing the shop and stepping out into the fresh air during the middle of the day.

You had an amazing time.

You found out that Wriothesley was extremely funny, and that his dry, sarcastic wit could have you doubling over and laughing in seconds. You found out that he liked tea like, a lot. Like a concerning amount. You found out that the co-worker he gave the first of many bouquets to is a melusine and a nurse. You found out that he talked to the Chief Justice regularly and somehow knew a lot of important people.

You explained to Wriothesley that you actually did have a life outside of flowers. You told him about your friends, your hobbies, and whatever else you could think of in the moment, feeling comfortable with him after just a few hours together.

He bought you food, somehow correctly guessing your tastes at every stall you visited. When you protested and offered to buy him something in return, he merely shook his head with a smile and said you could buy him lunch another day.

You walked together through the streets under golden lights, eating delicious food and buying trinkets. At the end of the night, you tentatively inched your hand toward his, and he interlaced your fingers together, holding your warm palm against his cold one tightly.

You felt yourself grinning like an idiot, thinking that absolutely nothing could change the way you were feeling.

Everything was going great until you got back to your shop, laughing and chatting idly with the man beside you.

Your heart stopped as you realized that something was wrong, and your hand left Wriothesley’s for the first time that night as you ran towards the open door.

The entire place had been ransacked. The money in the cash register was gone. Your precious flowers—countless blooms that you had taken the time to grow and cut had either been stolen or trampled on. One window had been smashed in with a brick. You lifted up your foot, feeling the shattered glass break into smaller shards under the pressure—Archons, it was everywhere. Luckily, the small vault you keep most of your savings in was still closed but dented in multiple places and on its side.

You nearly collapsed on the floor right then and there. It was only Wriothesley, who caught you as you were falling to the ground, that kept you from completely breaking down. You were mourning. All of your flowers. All of your hard work, ripped from your hands, without so much as a warning.

You felt rage and misery burn in your chest, resulting in hot tears running down your face as you pathetically picked up the ruined flowers scattered across the shop floor. Next to you, shadow cast Wriothesley’s face in darkness, hiding his expression from view. You heard him assure you that he would take care of it, that he would fix all of this for you, as he told you not to worry in that perpetually assertive tone of his. Your muddled and distressed mind immediately clung onto it like a life line, desperate for something to ground you.

Wriothesley would take care of it, you told yourself. If not him, then who would help you?

—————————

You found out soon after that the man who had robbed you was a rival store owner whose business had gone under ever since you had moved in. His storefront was situated on one of the more populated streets, streets that saw more foot traffic and that attracted customers of a higher class. Still, he had been losing to you, a small shop on some nowhere street, for months. In the end, arrogance and jealousy had driven him to attempt destroying your business.

Whether it be from fear and intimidation, or hopelessness from losing all the money you had made in the past couple months, he had hoped that you would chose to pack up and leave after he ruined the inside of your shop.

Fortunately, he was not a master criminal. A few shop owners on your street had seen his face and identified him to the guards. According to rumors you had heard from friends, he fought the guards during his arrest, shouting that he was not some lowly commoner to be pushed around. The guards and some mysteriously clothed people flooded around him, dragging him to the court house and sentencing him within the hour. He was allowed to go back to his shop, as his home was above it, but was put on house arrest for the time being and had guards stationed outside of every window to await further punishment.

It had happened so…quickly.

Wriothesley, during all of this, was very supportive.

—————————

It all came crashing down on the last night of the festival, a week after you had been robbed.

You were in the process of walking home before you realized that you had left your keys in your bag.

…Which was at the shop.

…That you would have to go back to.

Groaning, you made yourself turn around and trek back towards the storefront so that you could actually get into your house.

As you walked down the main strip of stalls and shops, you realized with a bitter heart that you would have to pass the shop of the man who made your life hell to get there and back quickly. You were glad that he had been caught and sentenced swiftly, but you were still incredibly angry about the damage that had been done to your business. The mental and emotional wounds left from the shock of seeing everything you had worked for destroyed were still fresh.

You fastened your pace as the night lamps began to turn on, the sky quickly turning dark as they became your only source of light. You knew the city was mostly a safe place to live, but that didn’t mean crime never happened, and it would be just your luck for you to get robbed a second time.

Then there was shouting.

You slowed your pace as you heard a voice echo off the tall buildings, only amplifying the panicked screams.

Uh oh. Had you walked right into a crime scene?

You looked around you, noticing that there were no guards in sight. Hopefully they had noticed the trouble and were taking care of it.

You sighed. You really needed to get into your house, as you weren’t too keen on sleeping on a bench for the night. Cursing whatever being had brought this upon you, you continued forward, walking in the shadows and hoping to avoid whatever drama was happening near the home of the man who had robbed you.

You turned a corner, freezing as you took in the sight of a group of men huddled together, seemingly trying to apprehend someone—

Wait. Was that—

You recognized that figure—those boots—that coat…

What was your boyfriend doing here in the middle of the night?

Swiftly, you moved back out of the light, eyes trained on the man you could now clearly recognize. You watched as Wriothesley raised his fist, his knuckles connecting harshly with someone’s jaw. You startled at the harsh noise of skin splitting skin.

You felt yourself flinch as blood splattered across the pavement. For a moment, you were grateful for the imposing figures blocking your view of the violent scene.

The victim was splayed across the stone due to the force of the blow, thrown right into the circle of people that had formed around him, pathetically whimpering as he tried to pick himself up.

You watched as he was dragged away, looking genuinely terrified, screaming bloodcurdling words as he went mad with fear. His pleas fell on deaf ears as those around him stood still, Wriothesley silently watching as he was picked up and thrown into the back of a carriage. The door squealed as he yelled that he didn’t deserve it, didn’t deserve to go to the Fortress of Meropide, please—doors slamming shut, cutting off his final sentence as the men and the carriage disappeared into the night.

Wriothesley stood under a street light, a short distance away from where you hid in the shadows. His body was tense, his back drawn tight as he gazed at the retreating carriage, with the man he had assaulted and doomed to a life in prison lying within.

You stumbled back, you feet scuffling against the pavement. The noise sounded like an explosion in the dead quiet of the street.

His entire body stilled. He turned around, almost in slow motion, his eyes widening in horror as your gazes met.

You spun on your heel and ran, heart pounding in your chest. Heavy footfalls followed you, leather hitting stone with threatening thumps that seemed to get closer to you with every passing second.

You got to your shop, flinging open the door and rushing to the back of the building, heading towards the closet where you kept all of your supplies. Hearing the bell above your door chime mockingly, signaling that Wriothesley was in your shop oh Archons, you slammed the door shut and locked it from the inside.

For some reason, you could have never imagined him being so violent. You were shocked and terrified, seeing your new boyfriend, who you had only ever thought of as safe, as anything but. Now you knew. He was dangerous. You were so stupid for trusting a complete stranger—

You heard him run towards your hiding place, calling out to you as the heavy foot falls slowed to a stop.

“Y/N.” He said, voice calm and level, betraying no emotion at all. It was like he was discussing the weather and hadn’t just chased you down the street.

Your breathe hitched in your throat. Somewhere, in your frayed mind, you hoped, prayed he would just go if you were quiet enough—

“I never meant for you to see that. I’m sorry. Let me explain.”

The doorknob began to turn. It stopped, hitting the lock.

You heard rustling and then a faint jangle as Wriothesley stepped away from the door.

You had left your keys in your bag.

The bag was on the counter, the keys were in your bag—

….He knew where you kept your keys?

You had never told him that.

The door knob began to turn. You grabbed onto the it with a white-knuckled grip, stopping it from the inside.

Your heart thrummed in your chest, beating rapidly as you desperately held onto the cool metal.

“Leave me alone!” Please was left unsaid. You shouted the words, terror making you shake and tremble.

Wriothesley fell silent. You heard him lean his weight against the door, his movements causing it to creak.

The doorknob stopped turning.

You prayed that he wouldn’t try to force it, or worse, break the door down. You didn’t know if it would hold, or if you could hold on, considering how strong he was.

You imagined his hulking figure standing outside, only a few mere inches of wood separating you, towering over you from your spot on the floor.

You were practically paralyzed with fear, and didn’t know what you would do if he actually managed to get in and get his hands on you—

“Damn it, I ruined it all, didn’t I?” Wriothesley murmured.

You jumped, not expecting the despairing admission amidst your racing thoughts that were trying to pinpoint where you had went wrong in life.

His usually playful voice was monotone, eerily flat for the self deprecating words he spoke.

You didn’t deign him with a response. You merely listened to the quiet that followed, feeling more scared than you would have been if he had been raging and banging on the door. There was something about the silence; something about it felt foreboding, like a threat was creeping up behind you and you couldn’t hear it no matter how hard you tried.

You heard him turn away a few minutes later, heavy footfalls walking towards the door, and finally the bell signaling his departure.

For a few minutes, you sat there and waited.

Eventually, you opened the closet just a sliver, looking out into the dim lighting with flickering eyes, checking every possible corner that he could be hiding in. He wasn’t there. He wasn’t in here.

You slid out of the closet and almost immediately ducked behind the counter, still shaking from the adrenaline pumping through your veins.

Shakily, you peeked out from behind the counter, checking for any sign of him outside. When you found the street to be devoid of him, you silently gasped in relief.

You ripped your keys out of the door with rushed hands.

You went home alone, without Wriothesley, who had taken it upon himself to personally walk you there almost every night of the week. A part of it felt strange to deviate from the routine, but you needed no reminder to know that the man you had trusted and spent time with all week was now a dangerous threat. You ran to the door of your home, opening it hurriedly and slamming it shut.

You tossed and turned as you slept that night, a doomed feeling settling in your churning stomach.

—————————

The next day, you took measures to start rebuilding. Perhaps you were just frantic to get back to some sense of normalcy after having the rug ripped out from under you the other night—or maybe you were desperate to have something to keep your mind off of the buzzing anxiety that was constantly gnawing at the back of your mind.

The man who broke in had already been put on trial and sentenced to an undetermined amount of time in the Fortress of Meropide, and had also been forced to cough up more than enough mora to cover the damages.

This, oddly enough, had all been told to you by a third party, someone hired by the court to watch over legal proceedings.

Someone was pulling the strings behind the case, and you didn’t want to think about who it was, just in case the pieces started falling together. (Deep down, you already knew.)

When you had heard he was being sent to the Fortress, you felt something in your gut twist unpleasantly, a kind of stone-like anxiety that weighed and sunk a permanent pit in your stomach. People who went there didn’t usually come back, or if they did, they weren’t the same. They weren’t viewed the same, either. What would happen to him once he came back? If he came back?

You shivered as the memory of him being dragged away resurfaced.

You sighed as you swept up errant pieces of class, determined to discard of every shard before you allowed any more precious customers or flowers to come through the door. The window had already been replaced, as a very nervous man had knocked on your door a few days after the…incident with Wriothesley, and claimed that he had been sent to repair it. You hadn’t even talked to anyone about fixing the window. A sinking feeling appeared in your chest as you watched the jumpy man chip away at glass and wood, his movements tense and swift. When you went to close the shop, you checked if you had locked the door three separate times before rushing home, practically running through the stone streets, running from absolutely nothing at all.

There was no sign of Wriothesley during the months it took your shop to recover. You were glad that he had taken what you had said to him in your moment of fear seriously. Still, you feared that he would show up on some random day, at some random time, and catch you off guard. That you would be reminded of the violence that seemed to follow him like a shadow, leaving trails of devastation in his wake.

Everyday you went home glancing over your shoulder while walking briskly down the street, always making sure to make it home before dark.

—————————

You unlocked the door to your home, hurriedly glancing behind you as you shoved the keys into the lock, pushing the door in quickly as it gave way. You closed and locked the door behind you, allowing yourself to relax minutely against the cool frame.

“Back so soon? I noticed you’ve been closing earlier nowadays. What’s that about?”

You froze, an ice cold fear creeping through your veins.

There, sitting in the dark of your unlit living room, was the man you had been simultaneously avoiding and thinking about constantly for months.

You could make out the silhouette of his hulking figure, leaning back into your favorite chair with his fingers laced together and knees spread apart, relaxed and causal. His eyes, which always held a mildly scrutinizing gaze, had turned razor sharp—they hadn’t moved from you since the moment you had stepped into the room. You were a pinned butterfly under that look, being dissected and picked apart by glacial, stormy irises.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, your voice coming out a little more shakily than intended. You tried not to hyperventilate. You really tried, but you could already feel your chest tightening, like just being in his presence was suffocating—

He stood up. Rooted in place, you didn’t dare move. If you tried to run, you knew he would catch you.

He moved towards you slowly, like he knew just as well as you did that you couldn’t escape.

He stopped a foot away from you, his height easily trumping yours, his figure casting a large, beastly shadow in the dim lighting.

You tilted your head back to look him in the eye. Even now, those icy eyes were beautiful. You thought it was unfair. Now that you knew what he was, what he was capable of, you thought, his eyes should come as warning. They were the eyes of a predator. And yet, still cold and steely, clear like cryo vision that hung from his hip, which you had never even seen until now.

Still beautiful, reminding you of clear water and arctic oceans and quiet. It was so quiet.

Neither of you spoke. Neither of you dared to break the careful silence.

He reached up, curled fingers gently caressing your cheek, dragging down along the side of your neck, as if a simple touch with too much force behind it would shatter you.

His eyes flickered to the place where your shirt had lifted to expose your collarbone, coat hanging off your shoulders and pulling the fabric down.

He ran his fingers over the exposed skin, making you shiver as you felt rough, calloused pads run across you gingerly, lightly. A delicate touch from a hardened man. He looked back at you, his eyes soft. Intense. Adoring. He had moved closer in the last few seconds, you remarked. You only noticed because you had to crane your head up more to look at him. His chest touched yours. He leaned down, ghosting his lips over your forehead. His hand had moved. One had settled on your waist, holding and trapping you close to him.

You felt a prick in the side of your neck, vision going black as you collapsed into his arms.

—————————

The next time you woke up, you weren’t in your house anymore. There was gauzy, heavy fabric hanging above you. You had been placed in a canopy bed in a room that was expensively furnished, and yet somehow untouched. You were in a bed, which was in a prison, at the bottom of the ocean.

Wriothesley walked in only an hour after you woke. You had a feeling he had been routinely checking to see if you were awake.

He looked down at you, his eyes painfully tender in a way that you regretted not noticing before. There was a fondness, a suffocating fondness, which told you that all those things he now whispered to you at night—how he wanted to protect you, how he had longed to have you for so long, how he had been watching you from afar with his heart in his hands, just waiting for the right moment to give it to you—

His eyes told you that they were all true.

Somehow, you couldn’t hate him.

Wriothesley had been living as a lonely prisoner in his own kingdom—his underwater kingdom that he ruled, because he thrived on the depths of the cold, dark ocean and its inhabitants that yielded to his power.

And yet the king of the underworld yearned for just a little bit of life. Life that you were familiar with—life that you thrived off of, and that thrived in return under your guidance. Life that you loved.

Life that had attracted you to him.

You didn’t know if anyone still talked about you on the surface; if they talked about your existence, or more so your disappearance, in hushed whispers with shifty eyes. No one talked about you down here—no one knew you existed, except for the head nurse and your husband.

You had been stolen away, under the ocean, that little shop off main street missing its owner forevermore.

You, who had always been surrounded by the life of the surface, had been transported to the underworld, a land of misery and lost souls, away from all life, surrounded and trapped by the love you once longed for—and mourning the life you once had.

—————————

Reader: *lets go of Wriothesley’s hand bc they got robbed*

Wriothesley: oh this jerk is gonna pay *sends the guy who robbed you to the bottom of the sea*

he’s been waiting to hold that hand for so long )):< wtf dude

[acloudofsparklingdust]

The reality of Gisele Pelicot is horrific and yet she chose to have a public trial to raise awareness for sexual crimes such as the ones she was a victim of. I can't wrap my mind around the pain she has faced, and on top of that the horror her daughter has faced. And the great strength they're displaying by chosing to share this with the public in detriment to themselves.

Her daughter's naked pictures were also found in her father's computer under a folder named "around my daughter, naked". The level of psychological horror and abuse these women have been through is not only terrifying, it's disgusting. It's hard to read about. It's hard to conceptualize.

He did this for years. The men involved took no action. No one helped Gisele Pelicot between 2011 and 2020, and yet she is choosing to help other women by having a public trial.

I can only wish Gisele Pelicot and her daughter the best possible lives after this tragedy. I hope they remain safe and well.

And I hope that the disgusting men behind their suffering will face consequences on par with these unspeakable acts.

[rie-092]

LITTLE SIBLING.

⟡﹒yandere! older brother x fem! reader

summary : your older brother thinks that your boyfriend wasn't good enough for you.

during his childhood, yohan davis really wanted a little sister. a sweet little sister that he can protect and adore forever. but, that dream was shattered when his dad died and he had already accepted the fact that no matter what happened, he won't be able to have a little sister. because he can't force his mom to remarry just because of his selfish desire after all.

and let's be honest here. with yohan's handsome face and those captivating (e/c) eyes of his. even when he was a child, everyone adored him. and maybe that was the main reason why he became like— this. uh, a spoiled son who was able to get whatever he wanted? aside from little sister, of course.

but then, when he reached the age of 15, his mom got remarried. he was excited, for his mom and for the chance that he can achieve his dream through his new dad. yep, he knew how obsessed he was with having a little sibling. everyone, except his mom (since she thinks that it was a cute thing but clearly it's not) has pointed it out to him. but he didn't care since in his eyes, it was unfair for him that his friends had little siblings that they could adore and spoil.

and yohan fucking celebrated when he got the news of his mom being pregnant a year later. he basically ran to his new dad and hugged him tightly and started to thank him and his ehem, let's forget about the last part. anyway, after that sudden revelation, yohan had started looking for good names that he could give to his younger sibling. he also looked for some cute toys and clothes but let's forget about it.

yohan, during his little sibling's birth stayed at the hospital. he didn't give a fuck about what other people were saying when he did all of his homework at the hospital while waiting for his parents and his new little sibling. and boy, oh, boy. yohan teared up when he saw you for the first time. you were so cute, so precious, so adorable and the most innocent thing on this planet.

“ so, how about you give her a name, son? ”

that was what he was waiting for. with a smile, he kissed your forehead as he told them the name that he had come up with after the 9 months that he spent thinking a name that suits you. (first name), his little sister. don't worry, your big brother will give you everything that you want and he will do everything for you.

expect that this guy will be quite overprotective when it comes to you. don't complain if you aren't able to play with your peers or if he doesn't let you go out and lock you at home. he was just worried! you're too innocent! what if you got kidnapped when he wasn't looking?! oh, and when he realized that you're allergic to (insert food here)? that day, you weren't able to see that thing inside your house again since yohan really threw a fit in front of your parents exclaiming that if they served you that kind of food again, he would run away and he will bring you with him.

but aside from his obsession, overprotectiveness and overbearing personality. yohan was a good older brother for you. he was much better than your classmates' older brothers. when the truth is he just engraved the 'he's the best older brother in the world' idea on your mind during your early childhood so that you will stay with him forever

anyways, much to his disappointment, when you became a teenager you found yourself a boyfriend. and that angers yohan. i mean, why do you think that boy deserves you? gosh, he was the one who raised you and he knew that boy wasn't deserving of you! he did his best to make you dependent on him. he cooked for you, washed your clothes and even made sure that you didn't know how to do housework! do you think that boy will do that for you? yeah, no.

expect that yohan will always roll his eyes when you mention your boyfriend whenever you are with him. this guy shamelessly stalks you when you are on a date, and when he sees that your boyfriend is about to kiss you? he will immediately call you to cut off that dirty romantic atmosphere that disgusting guy created. that guy bought you a gift? don't worry, your brother will give you a more extravagant the next day.

he will do anything to make you see that you made a wrong choice of getting into a relationship with someone. look, he knew that his obsession with his little sister was because his friends and bandmates always pointing out to him. there was some point when they asked him if he romantically saw you but that only disgusts him. the hell are they talking about? why would he romantically see his little sister? do they think that he's a sick freak? that's disgusting.

sure he stalks his little sister, sure he makes her dependent on him, sure he manipulates his younger sister that he's the kindest soul alive, sure there are some points that he commits crime for you. but anyways— he only did that because you were his little sister. his innocent and fragile little sister that he needs to protect!

and when the news about your boyfriend cheating on you reached his ears. he was fucking happy! see? he told you, that guy wasn't good enough for you! oh, his poor little sister. the only thing that he did when he saw you go home crying was to hug and comfort you but of course, while he manipulates you thinking that other guy aside from him and your dad was like that. a fucking freak that will only hurt your feelings.

ah, of course! do you think that he'll forget about that ex-boyfriend of yours? of course, he won't! because yohan, with a 'little talk' made sure that guy won't be able to approach you again. oh? you're worried when he came home bloodied and had a bruise on his cheek? this guy will tell you that your ex suddenly punched him out of nowhere when he talked to him when the truth is he beat that guy half to death. hehehe, and seeing you believed him made him smile widely. ah, it seems like you're really stuck with him from now on. and yohan was willing to sell his soul to a demon just to make sure this would last forever.

“ big brother's doing this for your sake so listen to me, okay? ”

[ambrosialdesire]

bloodsports

[ PART ONE ] [ PART TWO ]

18+ DARK CONTENT BELOW, MINORS AND BLANK BLOGS DNI

pairing: modern au!reiner x fem!reader word count: 13.6k warnings + tags: general yandere and obsessive themes, explicit sexual content, unhealthy relationships, misogyny, public humiliation mentions, sorta an unbalanced power dynamic, a/b/o dynamics and themes, modern & college/university au, alpha & hockey player jock reiner (will be sorta ooc but ig you can count it as his s1-3 soldier persona), omega reader, enemies to sorta friends to enemies again to lovers (but both reiner and reader are stubborn dumdums and it's sorta one-sided), bertolt x reader implications, heavy jealousy/possessive themes, heavy self-sabotage, alcohol consumption, violence & blood warning, "fated" mates, usage of suppressants, unwarranted scenting, kinda scenting kink?, pheromone-bombing, size difference, size kink, noncon kissing, all characters are 18+ synopsis: trying to get through uni should've been easy, but presenting as an omega made you become a seemingly easy target for the many disgusting alphas that roamed the campus. no matter how much suppressants you took, you unfortunately just had to grab the attention of the most notorious one out there. the university's famed center in ice hockey, reiner braun. to you, he was nothing but a godforsaken, meatheaded annoyance. a/n: i am not one of god's strongest when comes to a/b/o or the omegaverse LMFAOO LIKE I CAN'T DENY IT, SUMN ABOUT IT MAKES ME GO ABSOLUTELY FERAL AND IDC WHAT OTHERS THINK 👺👺 anywaysss, yea it's another hatefuck reiner fic that i decided recently to make a two parter LOL i made reiner a hockey player because i kinda like hockey more (i watched one game irl with my sibling and it was hella cool even tho the team we were cheering for lost 💀 the state pride was crazy, i had no idea how irritating it was hearing the other team fans cheer 😭) but i'm really really new to the sport so forgive me if i make some mistakes about it lol (i did modify it a little so it can be more dramatic and violent lol) happy valentine's day (ik this late AFFFFF LMFAO) and hope you guys enjoy this! the second part will hopefully come not too far behind, maybe in december once i'm freed from school haha note: please keep in mind of the tags above and do not proceed if triggering or uncomfortable, especially if you are a minor!! do not read my or any other writers' dark content if you are underaged. this is a fictional work and does not reflect irl morals, do not believe this is how a real romance works or functions.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.───

"You're coming to my game, right?"

The sudden weight on the table of someone leaning upon it on the other side caused it to creak, but you didn't have to look up to know who it was. The wafting smell of warm, spiced vanilla with vague, yet noticeable earthy tones wrapped around you like a familiar heated blanket. No matter how nice it smelled, it only bubbled irritation within you. You continued writing your notes, ignoring the looming presence.

"Omega, answer and look at me." A chill ran down your spine and your head felt heavy once he spoke, the demand stern and clear. You didn't want to answer him, but your secondary gender was scratching at your brain like a persistent fly. Answer him, answer your alpha.

You stubbornly pinched your leg once to get yourself out of it before finally looking up at the man himself, narrowing your eyes at him.

"Can't. Have finals tomorrow. Also, don't ever do that shit to me or call me that."

He scoffed and rolled his eyes, already knowing he wasn't going to take that as an answer. "You weren't answering me and c'mon, it's only for a few hours babe. Who wouldn't come to their alpha's big game today?"

"Me because you're not my alpha and I'm not your babe. Go find some other omega that drools over you because this one isn't going." You grumbled as you stood up, beginning to collect your stuff to get back to your dorm. He grabbed your wrist before you got your notebook, pulling you towards him, eyes were gleaming with determination.

"Come to my game and I won't bother you anymore. I promise."

You pulled your arm out of his grasp with a frown, quickly debating in your mind. Could you trust him?

On one hand, it would be nice to not get disturbed by him anymore. But on the other, that means you have to be packed in a stadium with sweaty alphas and a handful of excitable betas and omegas for an hour or two. The smell would be awful and overwhelming, false ruts and heats would get triggered easily from the adrenaline. You didn't even like ice hockey or any sport in general, too many alphas dominated the industry.

You bit back a heavy sigh, finally deciding on your answer.

"Ugh. I'm holding you to that promise then Reiner. No randomly showing up at my dorm, no waiting for me at the end of my classes, don't have your friends try and check up on me for your behalf either. Got it?" His hazel eyes lit up immediately and he nodded, his smile wide.

"You got it babe, I'll pick you up at 6."

You were about to tell him off about the pet name but he ran off, whooping in the quiet library while slamming the doors open. A few of the students' and staffs' glares went over to you, causing you to grimace before finally picking up your notebook. What the fuck have you gotten yourself into?

Life wasn't like this before. For a year and half, you've had an alpha cling onto your every move as if you've claimed one another. It may seem like that to him but you definitely didn't want anything to do with him. All Reiner did was bring a mix of trouble to you, a burden that you never wanted. Your secondary gender was supposed to be a hidden secret for only yourself to know — the prescribed supplements made sure of that — and you were supposed to present as a beta in order to live a peaceful university life. How painfully frustrating it was to be found out from a simple error in your day-to-day routine.

You were in a rush, you're human after all, and forgot to take them before you left your dorm. It wasn't until you entered your class when a brick of strong smells bitterly hit your nose, something that never happened before. One day and that's all it took for everyone's eyes to latch onto your frame, the horrifying hunger glimmering in the darks of their pupils.

You froze, unable to move from the doorway. The vileness of their stench rang alarms in your head, they were all sour and distasteful with every short whiff you took. It was overwhelming, heavy, and nauseating. You knew what they were all thinking, internally debating whether you should run back to your dorm or transfer.

A large arm had made its way around your shoulders, pulling you closer to their body. You panicked at first until a whiff of something sweet in the air stopped you. A spiced vanilla enveloped your senses with every breath you took and like a switch, your body immediately calmed down, unintentionally leaning closer to them to continue feeling this sweet relief.

"Hey." You tilted your head up at the person who was currently holding you by the neck and felt dread quickly fill up your stomach once more.

Reiner Braun, one of the most notorious womanizers on campus and the university's proclaimed players in ice hockey.

Reiner Braun, smelling like a freshly baked pastry, slinging his arm around you while unintentionally managing to bring you back to your senses.

Reiner Braun, whose face is suddenly way too close and you could just barely feel the brush of his lips against yours.

Your face burned up at the realization and you shoved him off you, eyes wide and mouth parted open in shock as you watched him stumble back to reality. What the fuck just happened and why the fuck did he smell so good out of everyone here? He looked like he was appalled by what he did as well but recovered faster than you did, a sly smirk growing on his face.

"Hey omega, just a head's up. The next time you come to class, don't smell like a sweet treat for us alphas alright?"

You thought you couldn't burn up even more than before, your body beginning to tremble in complete rage and mortification as the students began to howl in amusement. All of your emotions were pumping through your system all at once way too quickly and you finally ran out of the class, tears brimming on the edges of your eyes. There was no way you could handle being in there for another second. The boisterous laughter faded away in your eardrums and once you got far enough from prying eyes and ears, you collapsed to the ground and nearly sobbed your heart out.

You knew attending this university would be difficult but never in your life did you think you'd be humiliated in this way, just for one stupid little mistake. To alphas, any mistake that wasn't from their pretentious clique meant your life, your downfall, everything. It becomes a weakness to exploit and use, like a deer with a broken leg completely surrounded by a pack of starving wolves.

All you could think about over and over as you finally made it to your dorm was:

Fuck Reiner Braun.

‘•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’

After that day, you made sure to take your supplements on time with an alarm. Regardless of that, you still felt skittish once you stepped foot in that damn class again. Not because of the possibility that the knowing glances of your classmates would come your way, but the fact that Reiner would not leave you alone ever since he embarrassed you.

When you finally went back to that class in the next lecture, you placed yourself all the way in the back corner than your usual spot, trying to hide yourself away until everyone forgot about the incident. It seemed that your humiliating moment had faded away quickly like a passing breeze since no one looked your way as the seats began to fill up one by one. It was not until you heard the familiar laugh of him, only then you started getting nervous.

You stared down in your notebook, trying to look as busy as possible but the shuffle of a heavy bag and a body sitting down next to you in the loudest way possible confirmed your worst suspicions.

"Good thing you saved a seat for me, that’s so nice of you omega." Reiner congratulated you in a false manner and you grimaced, turning your head towards him. He wasn't looking at you but he was smiling as he looked to the front of the room. You had to force yourself not to stare at his body, which was a mental battle in itself when his pheromones were as strong as ever.

He most likely exercised before coming here, a faint sweat stain on the chest of his white cut-off tank top confirming your thoughts. The tank top was hiding little to the imagination, loose enough to where you can see his sculpted muscles from the side but tight enough to where it accentuated his chest. He was manspreading — a common occurrence in those who were considered to be extremely prideful alphas — and wearing dark gray sweatpants.

You didn't mean to but your gaze slightly wandered a little more down, heart nearly stopped in your chest when you just barely spotted the faint outline of his half-hard cock against the fabric. He was... big and if that was him barely aroused, wow. You'd pray for those that let this son-of-a-bitch hit another time.

The usually dormant annoyance in your brain wanted to get down on her knees and suck him off till he got hard in her mouth, but you had to viciously fight her back into the deep crevices of your mind. You don't know why the urge was so strong, the meds you took usually gave you no sexual desires towards anyone. Maybe you need to up the dosage? You'd have to make a doctor's appointment soon because you don't know if you could stand this new disgusting pervert inside you.

It would be the coldest day in Hell if you ever let Reiner fuck you.

"I have a name, use it or fuck off." You turned back to your notebook and he chuckled in amusement.

"You got a bite now omega? Where was she the last time we spoke?"

"Maybe she would've been there if she wasn't on the verge of a breakdown. Fucking asshole." You muttered the last bit, starting to ignore him once the professor finally entered the class. Cracking your knuckles and opening your laptop to the latest powerpoint, you began writing down the important points of what was in the week's module. It took you nearly half of the three hour long lecture to notice that he didn't make any sound, no writing or keyboard clacking or any tapping from his phone. Your peripherals just barely caught the sight of him and your skin ran cold.

Reiner wasn't paying attention to the lecture. You started to practically feel the absolute intensity of his stare, burning two deep holes into the side of your face. The chair lightly squeaked as he suddenly moved closer to you, the audible sound of him sniffing at you came after.

What the fuck was his problem? You quickly inched yourself away from him, backing into the wall but he followed suit almost immediately. His large frame nearly engulfed yours, the sheer heat of his body radiating off as he neared you.

He sniffed once above your head, then again and again as if he was searching for something. Thank God you decided to shower this morning. The tense atmosphere between the two of you grew thicker with each passing second until his hazel eyes narrowed, the corner of his mouth twitched in faint irritation.

"...You don't smell like anything." Reiner sourly muttered before pulling away, giving back the needed space.

"Uh... yeah? I got back on track with my meds." What was up with him? Reiner had never once spoken to you before the incident, in the class and out of it. In this class in particular, you've usually seen him on his phone, napping, or quietly chatting with the nearest poor soul.

He's known to not fool around with your kind, back when you were still portraying yourself as a beta. Why would he? To them, betas were boring and basic. They weren't alpha enough to be considered to be one of them and not omega enough to fuck. His preferences were pretty out there in whispers and giggles too, so it's not like he would need a reason to talk to you unless it was to get his dick wet for the night. That seemed to be the plan in mind since he was continuously interacting with you.

"Why would you?" Reiner nonchalantly questioned, as if he wasn't the one of the reasons why you take such heavy supplements. Your eye twitched, your fingers tightening around your pen.

"Are you seriously asking me that?" You scowled, watching him shrug and lean back onto the chair.

"Yeah, why not? You're the first omega I've met with a scent that's not doused in cheaply made perfume, it's..." He stopped, thinking of the right words before finally settling on one. "Original."

You scrunched your nose, conflicted with what he just described. He is the talk of the campus, most if not all omegas would've loved to be marked by him; no wonder they try to court him with different concoctions. Then again, he could just be saying that to get into your pants. Original, ha! If he liked this so-called originality, he should find it in someone else.

"I'm not interested y'know, not after what you did last time."

After you said that, all the words seemed to die in his mouth. He became quiet for the rest of the lecture and you didn't have the courage to look back up to see his expression. The silence was a simmering awkwardness, and you could only try and listen to the professor as much as you could. His smell was now twisted with a dullness to it, almost bland and distasteful like the rest of the room. When the lesson finally ended, you started to zip your bag close and pull it through your arms, until his hand grabbed the strap and lifted it up onto his own shoulder.

"What do you think you're doing?" Panic bubbled in your chest as you tried to grab it back but he kept maneuvering out of your reach, a playful smile growing on his lips.

"Think of this as an apology to you omega. I'll walk you to your next class." Your heart dropped to your stomach, the last thing you needed was even more people staring at you, especially with the campus fuckboy in tow.

"You really don't have to and don't call me that." Reiner snorted as he walked down the stairs, you having no choice but to follow him.

"What else can I call you if you haven't told me your name yet?" He held the door open for you, readjusting the bags he was holding. You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms.

"Why offer to walk me to my next class when I don't even know your name?" It was a lie, of course everyone knew him just by the simple utter of his name, but he laughed at your simple comeback, genuinely laughed. It didn't sound like it did when he poked fun of you that one day, your face starting to lightly flush warm.

"Fair enough. Name's Reiner, Reiner Braun. One of the University of Marley Warriors centers." You slightly cringed at the title, he just had to add that fact in. Oh well, might as well play along just a little.

"Y/N L/N, one of the many second year students in the University of Marley."

He laughed once more and nudged you on the back with his elbow, letting you take the lead.

"You're a funny girl Y/N."

You had to ignore the way your stomach fluttered from the way he said it, picking up your pace. Remember, you had to remember that he caused you a turmoil of anguish for a near week. All you were going to give him was this moment and that's it.

"Thanks."

Now that you think back on it, how silly it was for you to think that this was the last time he was ever going to talk to you.

‘•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’

There wasn't a minute in your day where Reiner wasn't in your presence.

Nearly every day for roughly five or six months since you've started talking to one another, he'd manage to find you and socialize. He'd give you a small snack or drink too, ruffling your hair once you took it from his hand and sitting down in the seat next to you. Every day was a different topic that he asked, ranging from simple questions to a little more personal ones. You knew he was trying to pry whenever you didn’t say much about yourself so you've revealed only a few tidbits, nothing big. Sometimes he needed studying help and you didn't mind tutoring him about the subjects you were sorta knowledgeable in. He always seemed so interested and focused in whatever you say, so hey, at least he was a decent listener.

He started rejecting hang-outs with his friends and teammates, all to simply talk to you. It's crazy how often he did it, a few times occurring in front of you through phone calls. He'd only mentioned his teammates when he tried to invite you to numerous practices, implying that he wanted them to meet you. You turned him down about it for the first few times, creating excuses to not go, until you got tired of him asking and finally begrudgingly agreed.

Watching him practice made you realize one thing about him: Reiner loved to play dirty.

Of course since you were merely a new bystander of the sport, it might've been one of the core strategies of how to win in hockey. Yet the more you observed, the more you noticed how he treated everyone on the ice, friend or foe. He told you before that centers did a lot for their team and were known to be more on the offense, even when defending. You thought the role was perfect for him, considering how he started this whole "friendship" thing with you. However, the way he treated you was nothing compared to how he treated the sport.

It was like watching an illegal cage fight from the way he quickly sped towards the puck, viciously slamming into others to make way. A frightening sight indeed, maybe even more for the ones on the ice as they were the ones he barreled his shoulders into their chests and sides. You can't remember how many times you flinched watching an unfortunate player get rammed into the plastic barrier by Reiner, the heavy sound echoing throughout the stadium. Everyone on the opposing team was merely his punching bag and though they can get a few hits in, you could tell that they couldn't handle the constant confrontations. He didn't care that they were still his teammates and that this was merely a practice game. To lose is to lose and for an alpha, that could never be an option.

You never told him this, but you never liked the look in his eyes that he gets whenever he played, the darks of his pupils blowing out the once-warm hazel color with a carnal and exhilarated intensity within them.

Regardless of his violent attitude, Reiner genuinely worked well with his team, whomever was on his side at least. He especially got along with whoever jersey number 60 is — the only hint being that his last name is Hoover — and who was noticeably taller than anyone else on the team. The two were extremely compatible, making the smoothest passes that whenever you blinked, it would seem that the other had the puck in the first place.

The strangest part of it all was that he'd make you wear his jersey afterwards, that's also somewhat the reason why you stopped coming over to his practices besides the extreme harshness of the sport. It was way too intimate for him to be sharing a highly scented object to a friend but you've tried refusing, saying that you hated the stink and it was still wet with sweat. Reiner never really cared about what you said about it and pulled it over your head, the fabric hanging loosely mid-thigh. You hated how calm it made you feel and how every time he asked for it back, you'd hesitate.

Even if he did like you, you don't know why he was being overly friendly. Was it because you were an omega that he had to be nice to you? You tried not to think about it like that since you were slowly getting used to his presence, as if he became a part of your routine.

He never pushed anything sexual onto you either like you originally thought he was going to. Sure, he'd make a weird comment or joke here or there but it never really made you uncomfortable or escalated into something else. Your feelings towards him simmered down to a level of neutrality, not quite at peace from what he did but not as angry as before. Did he feel bad for his actions? He never really said an actual apology to you, but is that really why you still find him aggravating to be around with?

"You're such a study bug, don't you know how to have a little fun?" Reiner skimmed his fingers against the already-read pages, your bodies squished side-by-side, one of his arms wrapped loosely around your waist as the two of you read your textbook together. You don't know why or when but you started to not mind the physical contact with him anymore; you chalked it up to it being the winter months and you were cold as hell, he was basically the closest thing to a portable heater. Your physician upped the dosage of your meds as well and there was a noticeable difference, but it didn't seem to deter the thoughts you were having about Reiner. They probably would’ve faded away if not for his constant presence.

"I don't have time for fun, unlike you with your full-ride and sports." You muttered as you flipped the page, eyes skimming over the new paragraphs. He groaned and rested his head on top of yours, taking in a deep breath. You’ve noticed that he was more touchier with you compared to his other friends that you once watched from afar before, but you’ve gotten used to it for the past few months.

He was silent for a few pages until you could feel his fingers trail up against your scent gland, your body immediately freezing up. He shouldn’t be touching you there, a shiver going up your spine as you felt his fingertips rub light circles around it. You couldn’t stop him, not when your brain was currently being scrambled with the feeling.

"Your smell is still not there." He off-handily murmured, finally removing his hand from your neck and letting you collect your thoughts again.

You swallowed thickly, trying to clear your throat. "I think you forget that I take heavy suppressants."

"Why do you? Do you really not want to fuck anyone any time soon?" You cringed at his wording, meeting his eyes.

"Well yeah, pretty much. I want to focus on school, not constantly wonder if I'm going to suddenly go into heat around an alpha. And it's a guaranteed protection, I don't want to get accidentally marked this early in my life." You could feel his hand squeeze and knead at the meat of your hip, knowing that he was in thought.

"I don't know if our class remembers what sub-gender I am but you certainly do, you were literally in trance when you met me," You pointed out, feeling your skin prickle warm as you thought back on the memory. "And it was my mistake, I didn't mean to get off of them and do that to you. I'm pretty much protecting myself and others from doing something... irrational."

What he didn't know is that having no heat at all for months at a time had made you indescribably horny, but you've been managing it so well that you really didn't need any outside assistance at all. Him being the only alpha that hangs around you on a day-to-day basis and consistently touching you has not made the thoughts any better than they were before, but you forced those damn heinous ideas in the back of your mind every time. Bothersome they were and you tried to not let it get to you as much as possible.

Reiner nodded slowly, closing his eyes. "Well if you do get into a heat, I'm available for use."

You gasped, quickly jabbing your elbow into his side, causing him to flinch from the feeling and laugh almost aloud in the quiet library. "God, don't say that here!"

"It's true! There's a line-up of omegas that need help through their heats, I'm not the only one that's getting something out of it. They need a knot and I give it to them." You don't know why but hearing him admit that made you almost freeze and feel your stomach drop. Every time you're reminded of his reputation, something in you twists in an unpleasant way. It's strange. You have no reason to feel this way when you don't even like him in any romantic sense.

"I'd rather not hear about your many conquests, thank you very much." His eyes connected to yours and you tried not to pull away, trying not to feign anything that would give you up.

"Don't tell me... You're jealous, aren't you?" He teased as his grin grew wider and you scoffed, closing the textbook almost a little too hard.

"Please, as if! I'm not the one here insinuating into starting something." You huffed and tried to disconnect your body from his to put the book away but he didn't let you, his arm holding you around the crook of your back firmly.

"I never mark them, if that makes you feel better. No matter how much they beg me to, I don't. I'm pretty good at controlling myself."

You paused, the heavy stone in your stomach still dragging you down. He sounded honest about it and any omega that he marked would've bragged about it for years to come. Hell, you wouldn't even be as close as you were with him right now if that was the case. Yet, the admission didn't make you feel any better and you'd rather not praise him for something so bare minimum.

"...I really, really don't care Reiner. You can fuck anyone you want silly and it's none of my business. I'm not your mate and you're not mine." His eyes softened, looking at you so fondly that you almost wanted to take back every word you had just said.

"We could be."

Time stopped. The way he said it so nonchalantly made you feel absolutely breathless, like you were punched so deeply in the gut. You so desperately wanted to kiss him in that moment — say fuck it, why not be his mate for the rest of your lives — but that was nothing but the godforsaken omega in you talking. This wasn't some cheesy romcom movie, this was real life. Why in the world would he think there was a possibility that he’d be your mate? The two of you barely knew each other besides the light-hearted chats you’ve had together, he only liked your presence because like every other omega, you were easy.

No matter how long you stayed up at night thinking about him or how much you desired pressing your body against his at all times, you would not sacrifice your future for him. You were trying to be more than just your sub-gender and more than solely becoming an alpha’s eventual trophy wife. Being with him would only complicate things. There was nothing he could do or say would change your perspective.

As you stood up with your stuff, you told him as firmly as you were able to make it without your voice wavering.

"No, we couldn't."

It felt like it was you trying to convince yourself otherwise.

You’d do anything to not be the one watching his heart break right in front of your eyes, his mood changing almost immediately. He tried to look away from you but you saw the deep disappointment reflecting in his irises. The softness they once held hardened up once he realized what he was feeling, trying hard to swallow back the pain. The change of his smell washed over you in waves, a cold melancholy hitting the back of your throat while a burning anger bit at the pit of your stomach at the same time. It wasn't like him to be so distraught with a simple rejection, maybe you were the first one that didn't immediately fall for his charms.

Maybe, just maybe... it should've been you that had gotten rejected instead. Perhaps it would've made you feel less awful about it.

"Yeah, sorry. I… I don’t even know why I said that. Why would I even choose yo— No. Wait. Fuck, I—" Reiner cleared his throat quickly and stood up himself, ready to get out of the situation he put himself in. He was backpedaling, you knew he was, but it didn’t make you or him feel any better about the situation. He really was not used to rejection, huh?

"Let's... let's forget all that. There’s a party going on in Delta Kappa Theta tonight. If you want to come, come. I don’t want you to keep preventing yourself from having fun." The way he still cared about you first made you feel like you were the complete piece of shit here. No matter what though, you didn’t owe him a relationship or situationship or whatever you two have.

You partially nodded anyways, a squeak of an ‘okay’ barely escaping you as you watched him walk away. Every step that he took made you feel even less sure about what you just did, but it was for the best… right?

‘•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’

It was the first frat party you’ve ever been to and as you approached the house, you knew that it was going to be way out of your comfort zone. You wanted to go back to your safe and warm dorm, make up an excuse to go to bed early, but Reiner was right, you shouldn't be cooping yourself up for so long without any other interaction besides him. You slowly took in a deep breath, tugging at the seams of your jacket before entering the house, music blaring in your ears and bright lights hitting your eyes as soon as you opened the door.

Find Reiner, find him. Your omega begged you as you shuffled through drunk and dancing bodies, but you ignored it. Would he even want to see you after you rejected him?

Someone tapped you on the shoulder and you turned towards the person, eyes wide with shock.

"Sorry! Didn't mean to scare you," Another alpha, his clean rain-like scent faint from the amount of alcohol in the air. He was extremely tall but folded his body within himself while holding a red solo cup, and his black hair was in desperate need of a new haircut, nearly covering the tops of his eyes. The man didn't seem to present himself like an alpha, his demeanor certainly different to the ones you've met and seen before. "You smelled like my friend and the lights are way too bright so I thought you were him, so sorry again."

He looked vaguely familiar but it seemed that he recognized you first, his mouth suddenly agape. "Wait. Aren't you the girl that Reiner keeps talking about? Uh... sorry. What was your name again?"

"Y/N, nice to meet you. Reiner... mentioned me?"

He kindly smiled and nodded, holding out his hand for you to shake. "Bertolt and you have no idea. You're basically all he wants to talk about recently."

It felt like your heart skipped a beat, butterflies fluttering around in your stomach. You really had that much of an effect on him? You felt partially proud that you, a complete nobody, managed to get him head over heels for you. The other part felt horrible, you didn't mean to lead him on like that to the point where he started bringing you up to his friends. It seemed that Bertolt realized what he said was causing you to get upset, pulling you towards the kitchen.

He quickly scooped up some liquid from a punchbowl and poured it into a new cup, handing it over to you. "Here. A drink might make you feel better."

You weren't new to drinking, only having it a few times casually here and there so you took a quick sip, a smooth burn going down your throat. You coughed lightly and shook your head, hearing him chuckle. He leaned against the countertop beside you, swirling around the cup in his hand.

"Bertolt?" You hated how small you sounded, trailing your fingertips against the ridges of the plastic cup.

"Hm?" He started to take another sip out of his drink, raising it up above his head.

"I don't know if he told you this already but I rejected him this afternoon." The sound of him choking and hacking followed suit immediately after you confessed, a spew of apologies running out of your mouth as you patted his back to get it all out. He definitely didn't tell him yet.

Once he managed to finally stop clearing his throat, he wiped his mouth and turned towards you, eyes wide. "Why did you?"

You bit the inside of your cheek and took another quick sip. "I told him that I wasn't looking for a romantic relationship or sex, all I want to do is focus on is passing my classes and graduating. That's the complete and honest truth."

His friend stayed quiet for a bit until he nodded once, as if he understood your reasoning.

"That's fair, you should be able to pursue what you want to do for your life instead of tending to his needs. It's hard out there for omegas and it's great that you're doing more for yourself. I know Reiner really does actually like you, but you don't have to pursue anything with him if you don't want to. You control what you get to do."

You felt flushed from both the alcohol and his words, you've never met an alpha that shared such a considerably controversial opinion before. You quietly thanked him, watching him tilt his head up towards the ceiling, sighing softly.

"Reiner... I've known Reiner since middle school and fuck, he has his moments where he tends to be a shitty guy, even long before he presented as an alpha. He's stubborn as hell and rarely listens to us and he's occasionally a great guy to be teamed up with, but inside, I know he's just trying to figure himself out."

"What do you mean?" He flinched, beginning to sweat bullets as he nervously fidgeted next to you.

"A-ah, sorry. I don't know if I should be telling you this since you're also his friend but," His pale eyes darted side-to-side, as if he was making sure that no one was listening. "Every omega he's been with, he calls all of them 'practice' for his fated mate. Everyone knows that having a fated mate is super, super rare but since he met you, well..."

He nervously tugged at the hem of his shirt but you immediately knew what he was saying.

"No." You awkwardly started laughing, shaking your head quickly. The house immediately felt even more stuffy and overbearing, a nauseating feeling overcoming you all of a sudden. Omegas being used as practice? Were you just another practice target if the relationship didn't work out?

"N-no, he doesn't seriously think that I'm his fated mate?"

Bertolt sharply inhaled through his teeth, eyes locked to the ground. "Reiner was always hopeful he'd find his second half and you've been the only omega he speaks so positively and constantly about. He mentioned the day you guys met, how your pheromones enticed him so much that he nearly kissed you and he wanted nothing more but to have you as his mate after that. Ugh, sorry. Even saying it out loud makes me feel gross."

You felt sick, numb. Were you even friends from the start or was all of his actions just some kind of courting method? You could barely hear yourself tell Bertolt that you had to go, fumbling a goodbye and an apology to him before pushing yourself into the crowd. The sea of people felt like it was getting more impossible to navigate the more you moved in it, a tight feeling building in your chest from being overwhelmed by every little smell and sound all around you.

Get out.

Get out.

GET OUT.

When you finally managed to push through and find the front door, your blood ran cold immediately. Like a deer frozen in front of oncoming headlights, you couldn't believe what you were staring at. Every part of your body screamed in complete anguish and devastation but you couldn't move. You had no right to, but you couldn't stop your tears from rapidly falling down your cheeks.

Reiner Braun, sitting down on the couch with some stranger on his lap, tracing his hands down their back, and pulling them closer to his body.

Reiner Braun, kissing down their neck, the peaks of his canines just barely scraping against their scent gland.

Reiner Braun, basically publicly grinding himself against this willing participant of his.

His eyes opened half-lidded and in some cruel form of fate, locked onto yours. Out of everyone in the room, he managed to find yours. He pulled away from the omega, a strand of drool still connecting between them. His hand still rested comfortably on the curve of their back, his mouth uttering only one name with wide eyes.

"Y/N...?"

All you could think as you finally snapped out of it — running out of the fraternity until your lungs felt like they were being ripped to shreds — was how bad you felt for that omega. How they were only going to be reduced into something so demeaning, a dummy-run to find his perfect mate. They didn't deserve that, being wide-eyed and hopeful that because he decided to choose them for his lustful pursuits, they're finally worthy of being a candidate of his.

You sobbed aloud as you washed and scrubbed your body red once you reached your dorm, trying to erase every scent and touch he made for the past couple of months. He was nothing more but absolute filth and you fell for it like a fool, a stupid brainless omega. You thought you were better than that but no, you were just like the rest of them. Even if you were his so-called fated mate, why did he continue to seek out others? Wouldn't he have tried to abstain? Sure, you shouldn't have expected that much out of him considering that you didn't even accept his confession but for some reason, it still hurt.

Fuck Reiner Braun. You should've never forgotten that in the first place.

‘•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’

Now you were here, leaving the messy history of the second year behind and now moving onto your third. Always look to the future, as they say. You took a lot of preventatives in avoiding seeing Reiner, the plan nearly as extensive as your studying.

You blocked his number once he started to keep calling over and over again ever since the party, blocking the new ones that came every so often and changing your number once you couldn't take it anymore. There was no reason for you to hear his explanation, it's his business on who he decides to fuck and you shouldn't be mad about it anymore. Part of you was afraid that if you hear him explain himself, you'd run right back to him just like every other omega he had a finger wrapped around.

You stopped frequenting areas you used to hang around in, which was unfortunate since some of those places were your favorites. You moved dorms, avoided places he frequented, and made sure he wasn't in any of your classes. Your majors were luckily too different to be in the same buildings or rooms, and with the help of Bertolt, you were always one step ahead of him.

He was the one that approached you first in one of your classes together at the start of the new semester and taught you the ways in how to avoid meeting up with him. You didn't know why his best friend wanted to help you and once asked him, getting the answer that Reiner hasn't been himself recently and he was afraid that he might do something rash if he managed to find you.

"You have so much ahead of you, I’d hate to see Reiner make you throw it away."

Bertolt made sure that he wasn't seen with you whenever the two of you hung out, and when he was with him, he made sure to steer clear of your direction with a simple text. He had to bathe immediately after just in case your scent got on him, which should be nonexistent but he was afraid that if there was just the vaguest trace on him, Reiner would hound him about it. He basically became your bodyguard whenever it was possible for him to do so, and you didn't even ask. You've never felt so grateful meeting someone like him before.

He also brought up that Reiner's been playing more rougher than usual, and snapping at others even when they're on his side of the team exercises. Even the coach was too afraid to say anything about his behavior, relying on him and a few others that were friends with him to talk to him about it.

"It sounds like he's in a pre-rut." You mentioned, handing over the pickles from your sandwich over to him. He took them with an open palm and threw them into his mouth like chips.

"I hope not, his scent smells the same so far but he rarely gets into ruts for me to really know what he smells like. Plus, he never knows how to handle them well."

"Reiner doesn't choose any of the omegas he messes around with for his ruts?" Bertolt shook his head, swallowing.

"Not at all. It's weird, he may mess around with them during their heats but he never, ever lets them in when he's going through a rut. Think it has something to do with the fated mate mentality he has, but sometimes we don't even know he was ever in one until they're over, he basically disappears for a week or so."

It’s funny in a weird way. The two of you were hiding each other from behind Reiner’s back as if the two of you were dating. Even though the two of you became close, your relationship with him was nothing romantic. Some kind of bro-code would've been broken between Reiner and Bertolt if you started dating him, and you'd be eating your own words from what you've said to Reiner. Then again, you never wanted to date him and tolerated his looming, clingy presence on most days.

Bertolt told you that he liked someone but was too afraid to make any move. She was another alpha and one of his friends, so the pairing itself had its controversies. He kept saying that his confession might ruin what they had for years and he was satisfied being in her shadow. It was sad to hear him put himself in second place for her happiness. So you tried doing a little nudge for him to go for it — 'the worst she can say is no' kind of talk — because it was better for him to say something than nothing at all and still quietly pine for her. Bertolt got too excited and rushed in with the confession after one of his practices without your knowledge, a messy bouquet of roses tightly gripped in his hand.

There was a few word texts that he sent to you after the whole ordeal:

Didn't get accepted.

Heartbroken.

Bar.

You found him standing in front of your dormitory building waiting for you, awkward looks of both omegas and betas glancing at him. As you approached him, he took a few steps towards you and almost collapsed in your arms as you held them outstretched. His tears and snot quickly dampened your jacket, his body wracking out heaves of anguish. There wasn't an alpha in the world that you've seen so vulnerable before, his fists gripping your clothes tightly as he shook in sadness.

He started telling you what had happened once he somewhat composed himself, his voice weak and crackly as the two of you walked to his chosen bar. Unfortunately, she turned him down and told him that she was actually interested in some beta from Paradis Tech named Armin. You could only imagine the bouquet dropping to the floor in dramatic fashion, tears welling up in poor Bertolt's eyes. She apologized and somewhat comforted him by saying that his confession won't change anything between their friendship. That was good, at least on her side.

You started consoling him, rubbing his back in circles as he drunkenly wept on the polished wood after downing one too many tequila shots. The speed in which he drank each one was shocking to say the least, you don't think his glass touched the table since he picked it up.

"We've known each 'ther shince we were kitss." He hiccupped, head resting in-between his arms as he tearfully stared in the distance and dangled the shot cup in his fingers.

"If I shaid sumnthin 'ears ago, would she hab 'ccepted me — or or or — shill reject me because of awer shub-genda?" You pitifully stared at his crumpled form, not knowing what to really say to make him feel better about the situation. The bartender then took his glass from Bertolt and told you to take the poor guy home, shaking his head slowly as he quietly whined about getting cut off.

"C'mon big guy, let's get you back."

The walk was quiet besides the occasional sniffle and you could tell he was trying not to fall on top of you, his feet slowly dragging on the concrete. As the designated sober friend, you were carefully observing him, a hand firmly holding the sleeve of his sweatshirt. He stopped suddenly, the sounds of his sneakers squeaking.

"Y/N."

"Hm?"

You turned your attention towards him, tilting your head to the side.

"If I wazzn'tin love wif Annie, I'd be sooooo in love 'ith—"

Bertolt then jolted to the side of an alleyway before he could finish what he was saying and started throwing up. It prompted you to quickly go by his side and hold him up, patting hard on his back to get it all out. You knew what he was going to say and you hated it. He's drunk and sad, nothing that came out of him was going to be honest.

"Don't say that Bertolt." You mumbled, lifting him back up once he finished and slinging his arm over your shoulders.

"I'm not going to be a replacement for you."

He reached over with his other hand, skin cold around the nape of your neck as he pulled your face towards his. You could smell the alcohol lingering in his breath, face cringing when you saw a bit of spittle still hanging off of his lips. He started saying something even more incoherent, his eyes beginning to close in hints of slumber.

"No, no, no. I... I swer'lve ewtoo."

You laughed softly as you shook your head in amusement, pulling him forwards. He really won't remember this at all. Bertolt finally fell silent, the occasional drunken groans slipping through if you tugged him too roughly.

Maybe in another world, if you had met Bertolt before Reiner...

You made the decision to take him to your dorm. The dormitory building was way closer than the frat house he lived in, and you'd rather not lug around his heavy body another ten blocks to get there. Never in your life you had thought you'd be sneaking in a giant of an alpha into the shared beta-omega dorms, but you wouldn't be the first to do so. It's a good thing his scent was currently dulled with alcohol or you'd be in more trouble trying to hide him. Quickly unlocking your door and taking him over to your loveseat, you watched as his body slowly relaxed into the cushions.

He was simply way too tall for the seating, his legs dangled off of the side of the couch as you adjusted him to a positioning that would prevent any risk of asphyxiation if he started throwing up again. You highly doubted that he had anything left in him, but it was good to be on the safe side. You lightly pinched his cheek, getting a change of clothes and headed towards the bathroom.

You checked on him once more before going to bed, a light snore coming out of him. Seems like he's all tuckered out and okay for now, the hangover is definitely not going to be pretty in the morning. You settled yourself into your sheets and turned the lights off, soon falling asleep.

The sound of your alarm on your phone blared in your ears, arms trying to pull out from underneath the blanket to turn it off but you didn't move an inch. Groggily opening your eyes, you saw an arm wrapped around your body, your mind not registering what was going on until you heard the soft sounds of breathing on top of your head. You turned your head slowly to the couch, the connection finally being put together when you saw his body wasn't lying there.

He started to rouse from his sleep when the alarm kept sounding off, an annoyed hiss slipping through his lip as his head lifted up from yours, reaching over himself to shut it off.

"Good morning big guy." You whispered as he settled back next to you, lightly squeezing you closer to him as if you were his pillow.

Bertolt grumbled quietly. "What time is it?"

"According to my alarm, maybe 8:05 in the morning." You tried to get up to get him water and something for his headache, but he didn't budge an inch. The two of you laid with each other, basking in the morning warmth quietly.

"Sorry for getting in bed with you, I tried finding a blanket but didn't want to wake you up."

"It's fine," You hummed quietly, turning your body towards him. "You okay though?"

He opened his mouth but closed it, falling silent as he slowly began to think. He turned on his back, staring at the white ceiling.

"Not really. Everything still hurts and I'm tempted to cry even more but... I don't know. Some part of me feels... relieved? If I never told her, I'd still be stuck in a loop worrying whether I'd ruin something between us and keep having this twist in my stomach whenever I see her with someone else. I'm glad that she found someone that she's happy with but..."

Bertolt put his forearm over his eyes, letting out a soft laugh.

"But why do I still want her?" His voice cracked, a tremble following the end of his words and once more, you wrapped your arms around his torso. You could smell his sadness, a heavy and misty petrichor filling the room in waves.

"Sometimes there's things that we desperately want to have but can't have. Irrational as it is, it's in our nature." You mumbled, your hands balling up in his sweatshirt.

"Like you with Reiner?" Your blood ran cold as he said that but you merely pushed your face into his body.

"I don't know."

In the end, Reiner managed to find you and ask you to his game. You texted Bertolt, asking how was he able to get your location after being almost MIA for months. Apparently when you and him finally snuck him out of the dormitory, it completely slipped his mind that he had to wash off like usual. When he entered the frat house, Reiner greeted him but stopped midway, quickly approaching him and grabbing his shirt collar roughly.

He demanded me to tell him where you were. I'm so sorry Y/N, I couldn't stop him and our team needs the both of us playing.

You stared at the text, almost throwing your phone in frustration. You should've said no, had firmly stood behind your decision. Yet, the second his pheromones reached your nostrils, you couldn't stop yourself from agreeing, even if you were trying to look angry at him. You've noticed it had gotten stronger than before, was it because you haven't seen him in a while? You couldn't even be mad at Bertolt, you'd be terrified out of your mind too if an alpha was demanding an answer from you like that.

It's only for a few hours, you thought as you took in a slow breath. After that, he'll finally leave you alone.

‘•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’

Reiner picked you up earlier than usual. It was about 5:10 when you heard a knock at your door, causing you put down the lip gloss before you even could apply it. Shuffling over and peeking through the peephole, you saw him standing there in a suit and tie. He cleaned himself up, the stubble he once had when he found you was completely shaven away and his blond hair was slight slicked back with gel.

"You're early." You muttered as you opened the door, keeping it barely ajar. He's not even supposed to step foot in the dorm, nervousness crawling up your spine. His pheromones hit you like a train, practically everyone that was walking down the dorm hallway could smell him, heads turning in your room's direction.

"I wanted to see you." He grinned, pushing the door open even more — nearly knocking you over — and handing you a bouquet of morning glories, camellias, and forget-me-nots. As you were staring at the mostly red flowers, almost a complete eyesore with the addition of the light blue petals that peered out from within, he waltzed in your safe haven without your permission.

"Hey! Reiner, you can't just—!"

You groaned as you exasperatedly followed after him, placing the bouquet down on your desk. His form was absolutely massive compared to the entire room, his head constantly turning towards the different decor that you hung up on the walls.

"I've never seen your dorm on the inside before, it's cute. It's... you." He softly mumbled, your face turning warm. You grabbed his sleeve, trying to tug him out of your space so you can get ready, but he stopped in the middle of the room, his attention honed in towards the messed sheets of your bed.

"Reiner," You started, your eyes following to where he was looking at. Your heart nearly stopped in your chest when you smelled a burning anger occupy the space — a smoldering, cindering scent — nearly making you cover your nose from how horrible it was. You gulped, hand slipping out and down to your side in a fist. "Reiner, w-we... we didn't do anything."

He just stood there silently, still focused on your bed. He has every right to be angry, you were literally snuggling with his best friend this morning, but you didn't belong to him. Scummy as it was, you made your bed and laid on it, there was nothing he could change about it.

"I-I'm just going to get ready." You whispered, turning around to go back into the bathroom. Big mistake.

Large hands grabbed your wrist, dragging you around in a speed that you couldn't comprehend. You almost screamed as he threw you on the bed, Reiner following after you and trapping you beneath him, his leg in-between yours. Fear was pouring out of you in waves but he couldn't smell it, no one could.

It took him little time and effort for him to press his lips against yours, your eyes wide as you soon realized what he was doing. You tried moving your mouth away, a scared and little no slipping out but he caught you again, his hand gripping your chin and forcing your head to stay in place. You tried pulling at his suit, squirming and kicking your legs, anything to get this monster off of you, but he didn't budge, seemingly finding enjoyment in your weak attempts as he pressed himself deeper against your lips.

His knee nudged at your cunt, a muffled, surprised gasp coming out of you, letting him enter your mouth even more. A shiver ran up your spine as you felt his tongue run against yours, the wet muscle violating wherever he went in a meticulous fashion. You could barely breathe, the smell of him and the aftershave he had on was so intense that you could feel the tug of your omega side slipping through the cracks of your mind; not even your medication was able to stop you from feeling this way.

Reiner finally pulled away, a mix of each other's saliva connecting the two of you. Strands of his gelled back hair fell over his forehead, your once-brushed out hair tousled into a mess. Both of your breaths were uneven and heavy, his eyes low and dazed as he stared down at you. Tears were running down your face, ruining what you've already put on, your eyebrows scrunched together in absolute horror as you shared the same stare with him. He sniffed the air once, again and again as he neared your neck.

"Stop, stop, stop." You cried out as you pushed against his stubborn head, fearing that he would bite down on your scent gland.

He didn't make any move, only sniffing at you like a curious dog. He then pressed his lips against it, causing you to abruptly stiffen in horrid expectation.

There was no pain as he pulled away from you, your hand immediately shooting to your neck to feel for any welts or marks. Nothing. A simple kiss was all he did on it, and you couldn't help but feel appreciative that he didn't mark you.

"Don't you dare see Bertolt ever again, you understand?" He hissed into your ear, the threat echoing hollowly in your head. No way in hell were you going to listen to him, but the omega in you nodded slowly, his heavy body finally lifting off of you. You tried to ignore the imprint straining against his lower half, your eyes staring up at him in complete shock.

"Go get yourself ready."

Shakily getting up on your feet, you beelined towards the bathroom without a single word, nearly collapsing on the floor once you turned the lock. As you looked at your face in the mirror, dripping dark drops of mascara and eyeliner stained the apples of your cheeks. The lipstick that was once there, was now rubbed away, leaving nothing but your bare lips. Your hand trembled as you reached over for a makeup wipe, a quiver of a sigh coming out of you.

You wanted to throw up, get every bit of spit and slobber of his out of your system, but you couldn’t. He’d hear you.

Reiner brought one of his jersey's for you to wear once you came out of the bathroom with fresh casual makeup back on, and you could tell that the article was completely drenched in his scent. You sniffed at it gingerly as you held it in your hands, cringing away from the sweet vanilla smell.

"What? It's clean, I promise."

"Liar." You mumbled under your breath but pulled it over the shirt you wore, the fabric loose against your body. He took a quick minute to admire you in his clothing, placing his hand on your cheek and stroking the skin with his thumb. You could still see the red stain of your lipstick smeared on his lips, trying to fight back tears and a sneer.

"You look so fuckable right now," You bit the inside of your cheek as you watched the tip of his tongue licked across his bottom lip, the darks of his pupils reflecting an unhinged licentiousness that horrified you within every atom in your body. "Maybe tonight, when I win, I'll be getting another trophy."

"Don't forget our deal asshole," You finally spat out, ripping his hand off of your face in disgust. "I'm only going to your stupid game because of the promise you made this morning."

Reiner simply stared down at you, your nerves scrambling even worse than before. He finally scoffed, crossing his arms. "Right. Our deal."

You hated the fact that he basically was acting like he didn't just forcefully kiss you, your nails digging into the palm of your hand. "Can we go now?"

He checked his phone, huffing slightly. "Yeah. Don't worry, we're not that far to the stadium. Just a few traffic lights and we'll be there."

You felt all the color drain from your face. You thought it was close by in walking terms but now you had to be in a small space where it now completely smells like him? Might as well hold your breath the entire ride.

The short drive was quiet, some random old rock station was lowly playing on the radio, but the two of you didn't speak to each other. What would even be exchanged anymore? You didn't want to be associated with him so long as you walked on this planet. Reiner's fingers thrummed on the wheel, red spilling into the car and staining every surface within. He turned towards you as if he wanted to say something and you stared back, a chill running down your spine. No words were said, but you felt every little thing from his smell.

Ravenous, a voracious appetite for the predator in disguise. Right in front of him, a five-course meal just ripe for the picking. All he's doing now was waiting for you to back into an inescapable cliff, the perfect moment to finally strike.

"...You have to go." You whispered and he finally broke eye contact, staring at the traffic light above and accelerating.

"Yeah, right."

The silence once presumed until the two of you approached the stadium, him mentioning that he got you a seat near the rink so you could see the action up close. To be honest, you could care less about the game and who would win overall. Reiner handed you the ticket between his index and middle finger, but when you reached over to grab it, he took it back.

"Need a good luck kiss from you first. If this is the last time I'll get to see you, I want to make it last."

You didn't want to rile him up before he played or make him force his hand upon you in the car, so you planted a quick kiss on his cheek before grabbing the ticket from his hand simultaneously. "Okay. Done. Good luck or whatever."

You scrambled out of his car, making your way to the inside as soon as possible. The arena was louder than you thought once you stepped foot, the joyous chatter and screams echoing throughout the hallways. LED screens hanging from the ceiling flashed the words Marley Warriors vs Paradis Titans, showing the line-ups of each team member.

Reiner came first in the centers, his pose prideful and boasting with stats to match. The other three names that you noticed were Porco Galliard, Colt Grice, and Eren Kruger. You eventually saw Bertolt come up as one of the right wingers but no sign of his usual reserved side showed in his photo, he looked focused and tough more than anything else. One of the goalies was an older looking individual by the name of Zeke Jaeger, confident but not too boasting. Clips of their past games showed afterwards, showing their amazing teamwork and impressive previous goals, then moving on to the other team.

The main centers for the Paradis Titans were composed of four men; Eren Jaeger, Jean Kirschtein, Levi Ackerman, and Miche Zacharius. Was the Eren guy related to the other Jaeger on your university's team? They definitely didn't look alike in your opinion but it could simply be because of a crazy Punnett square. Some wingers and defensemen that you sorta paid attention to were Armin Arlelt, Hange Zoë, Floch Forster, and Connie Springer. The goalie on their team was a massive blond man named Erwin Smith, his photo exuding a powerful stance, maybe even more than your uni's goalie. You felt like Reiner's team might have some trouble facing them, their defense and attack seems pretty threatening.

You finally took a glance at your ticket, walking around trying to find the stairway for your seating. The smells of popcorn, melted cheese, and hotdogs filled your nose, but you didn't feel hungry at all, still sick to your stomach from what had happened earlier. Eventually you finally found where you were supposed to go, and if you thought it was loud in the other shell of the arena, finally stepping in the seating area and the rink was absolutely ear-breaking.

Sirens, music, screaming, loud announcers. Almost every unbearable sound was contained in the structure, you should've bought earplugs prior to this. Not to mention, every scent of maybe hundred alphas and omegas intertwined made you feel even more overwhelmed, a headache beginning to form.

It's only for a few hours, a few hours and you'll never see this place or him ever again.

Your seat was nearby Reiner's team, nearly in-between the other team as well, the other teammates chattering with each other. You've sorta recognized them, occasionally seen around campus and such. Heads and eyes of strangers from school nearby were somewhat turning towards you, even the team started to notice you walking up behind them. Your face burned up at the realization once you sat down. Shit. You had completely forgotten that you were wearing Reiner's heavily scented jersey, you might as well be showing off the mating mark that he could've made a few hours ago.

"Yo Braun's omega is here!" One of the team members called out and you almost hid your head in your hands in embarrassment. Oh God, don't say that.

"Y/N, you made it?" The most recognizable voice cleared your thoughts immediately, head perking back up with a wide smile.

"Bertolt!" You wanted to hug him but he recoiled back as if you were a stranger, his nose scrunching. Your face fell immediately, his gaze sinking down in shame when he noticed your crestfallen expression.

"Sorry, it's not you. It's... y'know. That." He nudged the bottom of the jersey with the end of his stick, a frown forming on your face.

"I know. He made me wear it." You frustratingly tugged at the fabric with one hand and he chuckled, ruffling the top of your head. You'd burn it on the spot if you could.

"I didn't make you wear anything babe, you've always liked wearing my clothes." The sound of his voice made you freeze in place, eyes wide as your head turned in the direction of where he was walking in. Bertolt followed suit, his hand retracting away from you as if you were suddenly a hot stove.

"I don't think I could follow up your end of our deal if you're not respecting my demands, omega." No. That was never part of the agreement. You just gave the okay so he'd get off your back about it. He genuinely couldn't be serious about not seeing Bertolt anymore, right?

"Don't be an asshole Reiner. She's not just an omega."

The blond scowled at his friend, shoving his helmet roughly against his chest. He pushed it off of him, staring the other down in a sneer. You've never seen Bertolt like this before, the usual rain smell he had was turning stormy and bitterly furious.

"Oh, I'm the asshole? I wasn't the one hiding my fucking mate from me for months and sleeping in her bed. Not to mention, what happened to Annie or did you get tired of another alpha that's better than you?" You internally winced for him, that was such a low blow. Bertolt looked stunned for a second, glancing over at you for a quick second, but he pushed his shoulder back roughly in return.

"Don't bring Annie into this Reiner, this is about my friend. Did you really think she'd let you — of all people in this school — mark her when you act like a conceited asshole? She's not your fated mate. You've proven that over and over again that she's going to be like the rest, you knotheaded fuck."

You gasped at the sudden insult, a vein nearly popping out of Reiner's forehead but he didn't say anything more, pushing past Bertolt and shouldering him roughly with a scowl. You didn't mean for them to start an argument with one another, the game hadn't even started and tensions were already high. The Paradis Titans team weren't hiding their amused stares, the Eren Jaeger guy whispering to the short haired, bowl-cut blond next to him; Armin, you think. The murmurs of strangers behind you made you feel sick, hearing the word knottease being tossed around, the horrid word directed towards you.

You started to apologize profusely once Bertolt turned towards you, but he simply held out a hand, patting your shoulder as you stopped.

"Don't be. Someone needed to say it to him, maybe this fight would finally clear his head."

"But the game Bertolt, I—" You started but he interrupted you once more.

"I don't give a shit about the game if you're the one being hurt. You matter more than hitting a puck around, okay?" If you weren't wearing Reiner's jersey, you'd hug him right now. He smiled and put his helmet on, leaning close to you to whisper something in your ear.

"By the way, don't listen to the jerks behind you. You're nothing like that, you're going to be something great." He backed away once the horn started, walking over to the entrance to the ice rink to join his team. Good luck, you wanted to say because if anything, he'll need it when he gets into the arena with a monster in tow.

‘•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’

If you thought Reiner was bad in practice, his violent playstyle was nothing compared to when he's in an actual game. How on Earth this sport was approved to play for anyone, you had no idea. All you could hear was men yelling at each other and slamming each other to snatch the slippery little puck, fans behind you hollering just as loudly.

Both Reiner and Bertolt had seemed to forgive each other on the court, winning being the only thing on their minds. Just like in practice, they didn't have to say anything to get the point across, making passes and attempted shots whenever they had the slightest of openings. The two Galliards seemed to be more communicative with one another, defending the goalie whenever they could with short barks of commands. They were good but Eren Jaeger seemed to be the rookie ace of the Titans, managing to push through and score in the most impossible scenarios.

You could tell he was aggravating them, putting them in a corner while constantly taunting them with a one-liner or a smug smile as he scored. An angry alpha was something not to mess with and putting a whole group of them against other alphas who were mocking them for their failures? It's obviously an immediate recipe for disaster.

Intermission came around, the score against the Warriors by two. As the teams were talking to one another to plan out their next attack, you watched the Zambonis slowly smooth out the ice again. You paid no attention to them and their chatter, you wouldn't have made sense of it anyways.

"Hey," You looked around for the source of the voice and finally down, seeing bright turquoise-blue and a mess of brown hair standing below you. He smelled sharply fresh, like the first bite to a mint leaf and drinking cold water afterwards. It wasn't necessarily bad like most in the arena, just made your nose crinkle a little from the suddenness of it. "Eren Jaeger."

"Oh- um... Y/N. Aren't you supposed to be talking to your team?"

He waved his hand dismissively towards your statement, crossing his arms with a smile. "Nah, there's nothing else that's new with the planning. You, however, are the talk of the arena."

Your cheeks flushed warm, the temptation of burying yourself alive later on growing more and more, but you grimaced instead. "So what? You wanted to see if I'm what they say I am?"

Eren shook his head, taking a few steps closer towards you. "I'm not talking about the knottease comments, I'm talking about the Reiner Braun's mate comments. Is it true?"

"No! Of course not!" You exclaimed in shock, but the subtle-not-so-subtle glance downwards towards your attire seemed to make him doubt you otherwise. You tried defending yourself about it without revealing much about the twisted relationship you actually have with Reiner.

"This is just because he thinks he's claimed me and we've made a deal. I have no other choice."

"Is it now? Well then," He pointed towards himself with a thumb, his grin growing even wider. "When I win, wanna go on a date with me after this?"

How many alphas were gunning for you right now?! You knew that you took your suppressants today after Bertolt left your dorm so how come this was happening to you? The absolute balls on this man, especially since he was thinking that his team had already won. You wearily shook your head, you've had your fill of pestering alphas for the rest of your schooling life.

He looked dejected for a second but perked up immediately, the buzzer of the timer echoing throughout the arena. You thought that was that and began to turn your attention towards your college's team, but then he called out a 'head's up', tossing something in your direction. You caught it in surprise, looking in the palm of your hands and finding a keyhole shaped earring.

"Keep it! For the next time we meet!" Eren waved you goodbye and jogged over to his side of the team, high-fiving and chattering with his friends before putting a helmet on. You let a small smile slip out, he may be a little cute but there was definitely no way you were ever going to see him ever again. You safely tucked it into your pocket, finally looking towards the Warriors.

He was watching you. Of course. There was a livid look in his eyes, his brows scrunched even more in irascibility and his teeth were bared, perhaps even grinding together in this current moment. You paled at the thought of them sinking into your neck like some kind of rabid animal. Reiner was barely human anymore, you realize. Any loving gaze that he had before for you was nothing more but a dangerous hunger.

All you could hope was for the Warriors to win so he would be in a decent mood to finalize the goodbyes, and you'd pray for the Titans for the brutality that they're about to endure because of his horrid attachment to you.

The players slid into the ice once more, the deafening cheers of everyone growing louder and louder as the second half of the game was beginning to start. The referee smoothly made his way between the two masses of men, Reiner staring down coldly into the clear mask of Eren. Like a coin flip, the puck was thrown highly into the midst of them, their eyes following it as it made its way down to the icy ground.

Click.

In a snap of a finger, the sound of sticks bashed together once the puck bounced off of the surface. Like a choreographed dance, the rivals whirled with one another, swinging and twisting their bodies around in order to get ahold of the very thing that might as well be the trophy itself. The intensity of the game was now at an all time high that even you started to pay more attention to it, the hairs on your arms raising in anticipation.

The puck swung back and forth like a pinball, but the Warriors managing to catch up to a tie. It was starting to become a standstill again however, taunting chants coming out from the people in the stands, jeering at the anyone that opposed their team. Players were being switched out on both teams during timeouts but few remained on the ice, a tense aura between the three.

Reiner, Bertolt, Eren.

Bertolt took a few glances at his friend, tapping the end of his stick with his and seemingly started to exchange words with him from what you could see. Who knows what it was about; the game, the enemy team, you. He only lifted his fist up, letting the other return it in a similar gesture and that seemed to calm the black-haired male's nerves.

Reiner's eyes were lasered in on Eren for the most part, gripping the handle of his stick tightly and swiping it around on the ice as if he was practicing a shot. He was truly unrecognizable, a shell of the man that once followed you around like the world's most clingiest puppy dog. You knew he wanted to show-off, his pride was at risk to a girl that he believed he owned for months. Disgusting and typical.

Eren seemed the most lax out of all of them, leaning against the plastic border as fans behind him fawned over him. He seemed not to care about Reiner's burning glares at him, waving across the rink to seemingly you. He seemed nice, but it was obvious that he had more intentions than just wanting to befriend you.

The whistle sounded and the game began once more, the men skating themselves back to the middle. You checked how much time was left on the clock, ten minutes. Ten more excruciating minutes and you were going to be finally free.

" 'Round it now!" You could hear Reiner call out to Grice as he suddenly slammed his complete weight into enemy Jaeger, their eyes meeting as the others chased after the puck. They went after it as well once he recovered from the blow, but it looked like they started talking and you managed to spot a furious glint glazing over his hazel eyes.

He suddenly threw his stick out onto the rink, ripping off his gloves and grabbing Jaeger's shirt by the collar in frightening speed. Reiner was undeniably experienced with his punches, uppercutting him from below the mask. It toppled off of his head, falling to the ground with a crack, and Eren was stunned for a second, just for a single second. He was unable to completely process what had happened before the bigger male tackled him to the cold ground, the deafening sounds of heavy bodies slamming into the ice made the arena stand still.

The referee was too afraid to intervene but blew the whistle immediately, and hundreds of people watched the Reiner Braun brutally dig his knuckles into his face. Fresh crimson spilt down on the ice in splatters and you were forced to witness him weakly trying to stop him, protecting his face as much as possible to no avail. Bertolt immediately tried pulling him off of him, shouting at him that he needed to stop but it was like he was in a trance, almost attacking him in the process.

He finally was pulled off of Eren by the goalie of Warriors — furiously throwing his own punch into his face — and the poor boy having to be quickly removed from the rink on a stretcher. Reiner was pinned to the ground by multiple individuals and given a tranquilizer, his body soon relaxing and slumping over. They put him on a stretcher as well, his hands and legs bounded together and his mouth wrapped with a cloth rag. He was still slightly conscious, his calm and woozy stare meeting your horrified one.

The game had to continue without them but you had already left, not knowing the result. You felt too nauseous from smelling the sheer fear and panic that was coming of Eren, pungent and potent as it filled the air. But Reiner's...

All you could smell was that sickening warmth, a burning sensation in your nares. The same scent from your dorm but that's not at all what made you leave immediately. The sick fuck was happy he was beating into the defenseless guy, exhilarated that his blood was running down his skin and staining the floor, joyful. The nose doesn't lie and you wonder if everyone else caught it too.

Bertolt texted you when he visited Reiner in the hospital, but you didn't respond, busy trying to scrub the remnants of him out of your dorm while tears ran down your cheeks.

He did it for you.

[ohthethingswedoforlove]

Caged

Character: Mychael from Mushroom Oasis

Summary: At what point does a house become a prison, and at what point did his kindness start to feel stifling?

Warnings: yandere character; descriptions of violence; imprisonment;

  The fire crackles softly in the fireplace as you observe him in near complete stillness. Sitting quietly on the floor, right in front of the source of warmth, he diligently works away at a knitting project from wool he made sure to be all your favorite colors. A heavy silence hangs over the room.

  And your contempt for him is as palpable as the sharp pain in your mangled leg.

  You wish things hadn't ended up like this, and you have a feeling that he felt the same, but you were also long over feeling sorry for him. It's his fault.

  Well. Maybe it had been your fault too, in some ways. Maybe if you hadn't blindly ventured into the woods, maybe if you had been firm in leaving as soon as you were conscious and able to move again, maybe if you had just called him a monster right from the start; maybe then you wouldn't have walked straight into this cage.

  He steals a quick glance at you, only to just as quickly go back to pretending that his focus was only on his knitting needles. You clutch the hem of your sweater, one he had made for you, as a thought passed through you that perhaps you should have used them as a weapon when you had the chance. No way he's going to leave anything sharp near you now.

  His tail flicks to the side and he heaves a sigh. "Are you hungry?" He tentatively asks, slightly nervous and unsure. But you stay quiet. You're sure he can feel your searing gaze on him, his ears drooping as if in response to your lack of an answer. It's not the first time he asked you that in the past few... Hours? It feels like it's been hours.

  After a moment, you actually decide to do him the favor to speak up.

  "I want to leave." You simply state. His ears move again, this time twitching in discomfort. It's not the answer he wanted from you.

  The tone he uses holds a bit of disdain. "You saw what happened when you did, so no." He then stands up, making sure to leave both the unfinished project and its respective needles far away from the bed you laid in, and starts heading towards the kitchen. Only to stop at the doorway.

  You catch yet another glimpse from him, and though you forced yourself to look away immediately, his posture softened. "I know you're hungry. I'll make you something you'll like, I promise!" He smiles at you.

  And you turn over to lay facing the wall.

  Another sigh escapes him, and you hear the sound of his footsteps disappear into the kitchen. But you stay unmoving, despite the tears welling up in your eyes.

  You want to go home.

  And your leg hurts. It still hasn't properly healed from the incident.

  As you think back on your last and only escape attempt, the pain only gets worse. You had grown suspicious of his behaviour, thinking that it was strange how much he insisted on you staying, how much he refused to elaborate how you had gotten here in the first place. Sure, he had been nothing but kind and hospitable towards you, but why? Why does he act like you have no reason to go back to your life?

  And so, with the accumulating suspicion and discomfort, you decided to run in the middle of the night. A terrible idea, all things considered, since you ended up lost in the middle of the dark woods and stuck in place by a bear trap to the leg.

  Your absence must have awoken him, but your screams certainly led him to you.

  He was in about as much distress as you, rushing to your side and immediately getting to freeing you from the trap, all the while scrambling over mortified ramblings of worry and disappointment over you not trusting him. You didn't even have the energy to fight back as he carried you all the way back to his cabin, while frantically muttering under his breath about how you'll never leave through that door ever again.

  The pleasant smell of his cooking suddenly snaps you out of your thoughts, bringing you back to the present. You recognize the smell in annoyance, quickly realising that he's indeed making something you'll like.

  "Firefly?" You nearly jump out of bed at him calling you by the usual nickname, caught off guard by how you hadn't heard him make his way to now stand right to the side of the bed.

  You finally make the mistake of making eye contact. And your head starts to feel f u z z y.

  "Everything is going to be alright." He immediately leans into you, with a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "You don't need to worry about anything." It doesn't stop you from getting lost in his strangely glowy gaze however, as you suddenly find yourself weirdly... Tempted to agree with him.

  A look of guilt passes through him. It doesn't last.

  "I'll take good care of you."

[islandofthedollz]

Jimmy the typa fellow to get a hard-on when he sees you cry

❤︎pretty when you cry ❤︎

⁠❥TW: dacryphilia, implied Physical & Verbal abuse, male masturbation

⁠❥ILY for the request it spark a lil idea in my head. I was thinking about writing another fic make like Bully Jimmy. I really need to talk about toxic Jimmy so like my box is open. Whenever I write him for some reason he has a thick southern accent in my head makes it go burrr I like to head cannon that he does have a southern accent but hides it like goes to the mirror and practices talking without an accent.

You studied really hard for your exams doing overnights study session getting tutors and you still failed. You went over to Jimmy’s place crying because of your test. Jimmy was at first annoyed because now he has to deal with your womanly emotions instead of you grabbing him a beer.

Jimmy watches you break down in tears on his couch. Sitting with your legs spread and on your knees. His watches you closely your pretty face covered in tears the cute noises you make when you cry. He loved how you looked right now. The Smearing your mascara, giving you a look of defeat, weakness, submission. Your lovely voice contorted into sobs, whether they were from pleasure or pain he didn’t know, and did not he care. 

He felt his cock twitching and getting hard. He undoes his belt and pulls down his pants he pulls out his erect cock standing proudly. He grabs his wet tip and moves his hand up and down. While his thumb is swiping at his leaky tip.

Jimmy moans he looks at you, your still to busy crying. Jimmy gets an idea. “You know (Y/N) they might take that scholarship you’re always talking about away” he says as he fists his cock harder. He hears you cry harder “Yeah baby keep crying I’m almost there” he strokes his cock his breath getting shaken.

Jimmy pulls his head back cum erupting out covering his hands and Jeans. “Fuck baby your pretty when you cry you know that” he grabs your face and pulls you into a rough kiss. After that Jimmy couldn’t get your big teary eyes and little sobs out of his mind.

He starts being mean to you. Fighting with you or shoving you into the wall that way you can break down into tears. Public shaming you over something small that way you feel bad and cry about it. Then he would hug you and tell you he’s sorry and you fall for it only for him to do it again.