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natsukitakama · 3 years

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What kind of Yandere Floch is ?

Could I please get Yandere Floch since I’m really curious what type of yandere would he be but with a fem s/o who isn’t member of yeagarits and she’s with Hange and others instead, wanted to stop Eren. She’s also afraid of Floch since she can sense something odd about him

Hey I’m that anon who request yandere Floch with a reader who isn’t a yeagarist, well just so you know they’re not dating but perhaps they are friends and the reader is type of person who’s not ready to be in relationship even if she has a crush and Floch is aware of that. you could reply this ask at the same day when you post this request

Hey it’s me again, the same anon who request yandere Floch, there’s something I want to add more is that the reader figure it out that eren was using and manipulate Floch and the reader was telling Floch that he’s being used so really curious what would he tell her. Once again reply this ask until this request is posted which I know you’ll take long but I’m fine with it since I’m patience

Author note : Hi there, first of all thank you for being so patient with me ! I hope you’ll enjoy your request. It’s like a HS of my what kind of Yandere are they with two part : part 1 and part 2, the only difference is this headcanon got context

Before we started, let me reminds you those relationships are TOXIC please be careful. No one should treat you the way they did in this headcanon, you’re precious and deserve someone who’ll be able to take care of you properly.

Warning : violence / Mention of stress / Toxic relationship and behavior / slight nsfw / mention of violence / Spoiler from season 4/manga if you didn't catch up with the manga you might be spoil so be careful

-->if you don’t feel confortable wit those kinds of things don’t read, I want you to feel good on my blog this is a happy place.

Masterlist

We’re going to start with the basic, during a long time you guys got a hate/love relationship

None of you knew if you hate each other or if you were too into each other, like you were always teasing each other, always trying to get on the other’s nerve.

It was kinda cute until it became an obsession for Floch.

He didn’t notice it though. Not at first, he thought that he was genuinely crushing on you. I mean you were pretty hot, you got a big mouth not afraid to tell whatever you had in mind, you were even bold enough to argue with Floch with that damn smirk of yours.

Before he could acknowledge it he was already in his kneel for you (not literally not now though).

But to you, you were just friends. With your life and what was going own outside of the wall you knew it wasn’t the right time to get in a relationship, so even though you were in love with Floch you decided that it wasn’t appropriate to start dating.

But Floch disagreed with you. It was already too late, he was into you. He wanted to be by your side, he was craving for your attention whether it would be by arguing with him, fighting (not in a bad way you know just teasing each other) or even romantic attention.

He wanted to get everything that you might give him.

And he was ready to do everything in order to get what he was craving for.

At first you didn’t mind it, you didn’t even notice how bad the situation was. I mean, you were in love with him and as you got to know him you realized that he went through a lot of things. You were aware that the Shinganshima’s event left a huge mark on his soul and now he was dealing with a trauma that might stay forever.

It pained you to see him sometimes struggling with his dream because he was always dreaming about the death of his friends, the way he almost dies and for nothing. Yeah they got Shinganshima back but now they needed to be strong in order to fight the whole word outside the wall.

He needed to be strong so he wouldn’t live this again, he needed to be strong so no one would be able to touch you. He knew at this point he became addict to you and you were the only who can maintain a sort of serenity around him.

So yeah when it came to Floch you weren’t exactly unbiased, you cared a lot about him, so you couldn’t manage to just straight up and tell him to let go.

And he knows it oh boy he knows and he is not afraid to use it against you.

Especially when it was time to choose your side, would you be a yeagerist or would you stay with Hange ?

He expects you to make the right choice ( aka follows him in case you were wonderin)

But it was more complicated than that, of course you were afraid. Since you’ve realized that your nightmare started because some people outside of the wall (who used to be your boundaries) decided that you were monster who needed to be killed because some of your ancestor made war against them. You weren’t a fool, you were aware that talking won’t be enough, it’s been decades since the outside hated you, but you weren’t ready to use such a powerful and dangerous power (aka the rumbling) against people without being a hundred percent sure there weren’t a way out.

So for now you decided to follow Hange much to Floch’s dismay

Not gonna lie he was ready, I mean he knew everything about you so of course he kinda expected you to not follow him easily (where’s the fun then ?)

Even if he expected you to confront him and not follow him already, he couldn’t help but feel disappointed. I mean why you wouldn’t follow him while all he was doing was fighting for a better word for both of you ? Why wouldn’t you agree with him when he was protecting his people ? Why would you disagree when he was obviously right

So yeah he felt bitterness against you, especially because since you’ve decided to join Hange’s side all you were doing was to confront him about his relationship with Eren. « He is obviously manipulating you ? » « Why are you following him ? I thought he was an ass ? » « We didn’t even try to talk to them how could you be so sure there is no other way ? »

Quickly you came to realize that you couldn’t change his mind which pains you, even though you weren’t ready to be in a relationship for now, you couldn’t help the feeling of emptiness each time you were thinking about him.

Yeah you were missing him, you missed the way you two used to tease each other, you missed his cocky smile each time he was showing off to own some of your precious praise.

But sometimes you swore this man was scaring you, the way his eyes was always on you no matter what (he could have been talking to some of his companion his eyes would remain on you)

Sometimes, you swore that he was following you even though you didn’t have any proof that he was doing it, you just felt it. He was here no matter where you were he was here looking at you from your usual spot to your training spot, you were even starting to think that he was here when you were showering or when you were sleeping.

This sensation was driving you crazy, everyone started to believe that you were a little bit paranoid (yes the man was always looking at you but he told you he was in love so it’s normal right ?)

The feeling became stronger after one of your last confrontation because his behavior (and himself) change brutally :

When you decided to follow Henge-San no matter what, you knew that it would affect your relationship with everyone especially the one you got with Floch. After all he decided to become a yeagarist and to betray everyone in order insure paradis’ safety. In his mind everything made sense, his trauma, all the things he had to go through was because of them, because some people behind the wall decided that paradis was the real danger and needed to be annihilated. What he couldn’t understand was why you hadn’t join him yet ? His goal was noble, he was doing everything to provide you safety. Why were you against him ? Why would you meddle into his plan ? At first, he thought you were playing hard just to amuse him, because you used to love teasing him and while he was enjoying a little opposition coming from you, now that he was about to betray everyone including his superior by changing them into titans he needed to have you by his side. He couldn’t wait anymore, the plan already begun so he needed to convince you to follow him.

That’s why you were here now, in jail behind the bar while Floch was looking at you a frown on his face. No, it was more than that, it was the face you made when you were about to scold your child from acting like a brat. He looked disappointed and quite angry, though you got some ideas why he might be angry you couldn’t however understand why he was so disappointed. After all, you told him that his plan was insane so why was he acting like this ? To be honest you should be the one being angry, he got the nerve to send some rookie from the survey corps find you to arrest you so they could bring you to your jail. You’ve been here since your last argument with Floch and it was like a week ago.

« You know I always knew you were a bad looser but I didn’t expect you to bring me into jail for not being cooperative. Don’t you think it’s a little bit excessive ? Like a LOT »

« Always sassy right Y/N »

« It’s not sassiness at this point it’s just being rational »

« Rational ? You are talking about being rational while being the one who claimed that my plan was full of shit ? »

« I didn’t really say that I just underlined the fact that we still got some cards to play before sending whatever Eren want to send »

« The rambling »

« Yeah whatever that’s not the point »

« It’s definitely the point »

« Absolutely not there is plenty of things to do before even consider sending them titans to kill a whole population »

« A WHOLE POPULATION ? Did you hear yourself y/n ? THEY kill us, THEY were the reason we don’t have a home anymore THEY are the reason so many people died and for what uh ? »

« Not because their government want us dead does it mean the people want our death most of them are probably innocent. There are other way Floch »

« There is no other way y/n the world has to be fix »

« Fix ? Now you are scarring me Floch »

« It doesn’t matter what you think y/n »

« May I ask you why ? »

« Because you’re not leaving this jail »

« I beg your pardon ? »

« Look, here you’re safe from both them and the yeagarist »

« I’m not afraid I’ll kick their ass »

« I won’t take the risk of losing you, so you’re going to stay here all you cute for me yeah ? I Wont be too long I need to work on a little problem then I would be back and you could yell at me as much as you want ok ? I’ll be back »

« No no no Floch look come back OI come back ! I’m not going to stay here you now I’ll find a way out »

« No you won’t nobodies know you’re here I told the yeagarist that you were dead. They won’t look for you, your friends believe you’re dead too. I’m the only person who knows where you are. But it’s okay, it was always about us right ? »

With that he just left your jail, without even a look, all he could was your scream but he didn’t care. The jail was hiding under the military court no one would even think about looking for you here. Besides the wall was thick enough so no one would hear you screaming, for now he decided that you will remain here until he was done saving paradis. But of course, he promised himself to take great care of you so don’t worry.

After this « incident » (aka his way to save you from the trouble outside according to him), his behavior change toward you. You noticed it, he became possessive and rather paranoid when it came to you.

So you might ask what kind of Yandere he is ?

Possessive : I mean he was already possessive before he became the Yandere that he now is, he just lost so many people that now he was afraid that you would be next. So yeah he always makes sure to have his hand on some part to your body mostly your hips or even better holding your hand, since you were attracted to him you let him do his things. But as he falls gradually into darkness, his touch which used to be light touch became more rough. Floch wasn’t holding you anymore he was grabbing you, as if to demonstrate to everyone that he owns you. It wasn’t a mark of affection, but a way for him to illustrate your affiliation to him (as if you were wearing a leash). Speaking of leash, he started to think about it when he notices way too many people was looking at you as if they didn’t understand that you belong to him. And when you two started to be intimate, he was more than ready to mark each inch of your body whether from his teeth, mouth or even from the way he is grabbing at your thigh. It quickly became a habit of him to ask who you belong to especially each time he was giving a rather hard slap from his hips or his hands (because if you think he wouldn’t spank you for being naughty or a brat you’re wrong he loves that) and even though at first you didn’t like the idea of moaning your belonging you quickly discover that it was better for you to just do as he said.

Paranoid : It might because of his trauma from the mission in Shinganshima or because he was more aware about the fact that everyone outside the wall want to erase paradis from the world but he was afraid to loose you. I mean since he joined the survey corps all he has do was losing someone, he lost Erwin, he lost his friends, he lost a part of his mind, he almost lost his life. There is no way he was about to lose you. So yeah as you may notice before, he started by locking you from the world in a jail under the military court after claiming to everyone who wanted to hear it that you were dead. One night he woke up after dreaming that one of the yeagarist would discover you in jail after bringing another prisoner, what if they unlock you ? So after multiple days in jail, without any light, he decided that he couldn’t let you here it was too dangerous, although he claimed to you that he did because he noticed your unhealthy body cause of the lack of light. But since he wasn’t sure if he could trust you enough, he took some handcuff with him so he could link you and him, which made him laugh cause it was as if he put a ring on you. That day he locked you into a house secluded from the world, meaning that you couldn’t reach any city without a horse, it was safe for him and for you and here he was sure no one would ever notice you.

Threatening : Of course, you wouldn’t let him do as he pleased, so some times you tried to kick his ass to steal his horse, or to climb into a tree to help you finding the closest city. You even tried to make him believe you kill yourself so he went completely crazy, screaming, crying so you could knock him you. Unfortunately it never works, and after your failed attempt to leave him he started to threaten you. At first he uses light poison, like he gave you a poison that he mixed on your meal or your drink without you noticing so you were ill during the whole day and you needed to wait like a good s/o that your lovely husband as he calls himself, so he could give you the medicine. Sometimes he even let you believe that he might give you something that will change you into titan like : Do you remember all your officer ? Yeah ? They all drink that famous spinal liquid that change everyone into titan, what if you drank it by accident mh ? Maybe when he gave you food he already mixes your drink with that poison ? Whether it was true or not no one will know, but it works you never attempt to leave him after that.

Violent : I hate to say it, but at some point when dark would entirely cover his mind, he would start being violent against you. Though he would never be something that could kill you, he wanted you to remember that you were living a peaceful live because of him, you were safe because of him. To him you got no reason of being such a brat to him, not when he was giving you everything you wanted. He took care of you, you had no right to be mad at him. So yeah sometimes he had to break your ankle, or maybe your leg so you won’t escape. Sometimes he would strangle you slightly just enough to knock you out. It barely happens because to act like this he needed to be really really angry, like loosing every common sense you know ? So it barely happens but it happens. Your body still have so marks as proof that you shouldn’t get on Floch’s nerve. Despite his physical violence, he tends to be quite violent with his word too so it wouldn’t be a surprise that you’ll break. The emotional amusement in addition with the physical violence would be enough to break anyone so you shouldn’t be ashamed. After all maybe he has been looking for this since the beginning ? Who knows ?

#Attack on titans #aot #aot floch #Shingeki no kyojin #snk #snk Floch #floch forster #Floch x reader #Floch Forster x reader #Yandere Floch x reader #attack on titans x reader #aot x reader #snk x reader #Shingeki no kyojin x reader #snk Floch x reader #aot Floch x reader

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father-time-and-baby-new-year · 3 years

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happy 200! i’m so glad to see your blog grow, it’s one of my favorites and i adore all your writing. i’ve never cried so much and i love the kind of unsettling feeling you write in your fics, it’s perfect in the category of yandere and dark content. in particular, i loved your drabble about shigaraki mourning over a dead reader and i’ve reread that one too many times to count haha! as for asks for headcannons and drabbles, it would be amazing to see that with bully!eren especially since he was such an awful person to the reader. i’d love to see him suffer honestly, but if you don’t want to write it, that’s completely fine! once again, i’m so proud of you for hitting 200! that’s such a huge milestone and hopefully, there will be many more in the future! :)

SYNOPSIS: bully!Eren has to navigate the world without you.

Pairing: Bully!Eren x Fem!Reader

A/N: I can't even explain in words how much I CHEESED at this message like my grin was ear to ear. can't explain how many times I read this. It singlehandedly made my day anon, and to repay you for my happiness....here is some angst. this is a slightly different route than the shiggy one but I hope it still suits you <3

TW: mentions of death, past dubcon/noncon, mentions of trauma, bullying, alcohol addiction, drunk driving, abusive behavior, revenge porn, nonconsensual photography/videography, mentions of infidelity, angst, so much of angst, violent behavior

WC: 2.5k

It's not like Eren had been doing a lot of soul-searching. He's not delusional enough to label his half-assed epiphany of "maybe I'm a shitty person" as soul searching.

It's just the conversation with his very sick mother burned holes through the back of his mind. Carla had asked about you and why you don't come by the house anymore. How she missed baking with you in the kitchen, and how you sweetly smiled whenever you would see soft creamy peaks form in the meringue.

Eren felt like he was swallowing needles as he assured his mother with false truths, that nothing was going on and distance between childhood friends is natural, and if it means so much--ok ok he'll bring you over.

He stays until he sees her chest slowly rising and falling into a gentle asleep. He touches the tip of his ears, unsurprised by how hot it was.

Eren, when you tell a lie, the tips of your ears turn red.

You're not at school the next day. Or the day after that. Or the day after that.

Guilt is not an emotion he feels often but the events of the past weekend replay in his mind. It was just a dumb party that Floch threw, and he was surprised to find you cornered by a trio of thee dunderheads. Like a distorted fairytale, he swept you away from the bad guys like a knight in shining armor, to only shove you in an empty room and demand compensation for playing hero.

Fuck, with that big mouth, you would think that you'd know how to suck cock.

Use your tongue stupid slut. If you use teeth, I'll shove this dick in your ass without any prep.

No, I don't care, you're taking all of it.

There's a video on his camera roll. How could he not record it? You're sobbing, mascara running down your cheeks, looking so beautiful and ruined with jizz smeared at the corner of your mouth. He was brutally fucking your mouth, making you take all of his length.

Breathe through your nose dumb whore. Or else you're gonna run out of air.

You were pleading with whatever garbled sounds you were constricted into producing.

Breathe through your fucking nose. This is for your sake. Otherwise, I don't mind face fucking your lifeless body. You'd be more useful that way anyways.

Eren is conflicted with muting the video because he can't stand to hear himself like that. But he didn't want to miss out on your pitiful whines.

He remembers the distraught expression on your face when he was finally done with you. He tucked himself inside, and sneered, "I've got a girl coming here. Get lost." You looked so fucking distraught. Why? All he did was make you suck his dick. He didn't even fuck you.

He should have. Eren thinks grimly when he stares at your empty desk on the first day you didn't show up to school. He's gotten off to the video more than enough times than he can count over the weekend, and he was aching to see your pretty face twisted into a terrorized expression when he flipped up your skirt to grope your ass.

Kindly, Eren decides he'd allow you to have a rest day. But the second day, Eren pays a visit to your house finding it dark and locked, like no one was home and hadn't been there for a while.

On the third day, you're declared missing.

Your incompetent workaholic mother who finally came home and decided to give a damn reported you missing to the authorities who had scratched their heads because as far as they knew, the pivotal 72 hours were up.

Paradis was surrounded by forests. No one wanted to say it, but they were all thinking it. If you got lost in there, chances are you wouldn't make it out.

Eren wasn't always this admired and fawned over. He had his fair share of behavioral issues that frightened people (not you though, not then at least, not when you were children, and you still came back every day to play).

But when he channeled that anger into sports, there was somewhat of a star in the making, especially for some small-town boy. He was becoming extremely popular, and that's nice and all, but at the end of the day, he has a mother whose health was taking a sharp decline. He was constantly under stress, stress that he took out on you.

Where did his favorite stress-ball go?

It's all fucking surreal. Having detectives in the school. Not that there were many students to question (because christ, did you even have any friends after Eren turned everyone against you?).

Eren was questioned. He can't help but mirthfully chuckle. Maybe this was your grand plan, maybe you were able to finally sort out a mountain of evidence against him. If you were going to fuck him over, didn't you want to see it happen with your own two eyes?

The dark-haired boy wishes that was true. If you had gotten your revenge, would you be here? No, revenge isn't the right word. If you got any justice for what he made you suffer, would you come back?

Hi, I'm Detective Hange. I would like to ask you some questions today. You're Eren Yeager, right?

Yes, that's me.

How do you know ___?

We were childhood friends. We're uh, we're not as close anymore.

When was the last time you saw her?

Friday night at Floch's party-

-Floch Forster right? There were a number of kids there from your school.

Yeah. It was a big party. She uh, doesn't usually come to parties but she was there that night.

You were the last person to be seen with her. Other kids have said that they saw you and her entering a room together, and then only her leaving the said room.

[Sigh] Yeah we sorta...hooked up.

I thought you said you guys weren't close anymore.

You can be not close to someone and still hook up with them.

But you guys were close once right?

Yeah. Once.

The dark-haired boy asks if he was under any suspicion. The detective waves their hand in a dismissive gesture, “If her diary tells us anything, it’s only that she really liked you.”

Were detectives even allowed to divulge that sort of information? Eren doesn’t know but the stray detail that they offered off-handedly made him feel like he was swallowing needles.

At that point, Eren honestly still doesn't believe you're gone. You had a habit of running away, even when you were little kids, but you always came back.

Still, he participates in the search parties with a renewed vigor, even going alone in the forest with a flashlight on most nights.

And he's just so fucking tired. The darkest crevice of his mind almost wishes you were dead because this ignorance was just agony. Almost. Because he still clings to the feeling that one day, he’ll stroll into class and find you in your seat in the back of the class, looking out the window like some cliche shojo manga protagonist.

There are folders and folders on his phone. Albums. The most recent one is dedicated to your crying face as you were choking on his dick. Earlier albums are composed of creepshots of your panties, of that obscene o-face, of your skirt flipped up and your ass cheeks, pictures of your cleavage, videos of you thrashing as he dunked your head into toilets like a villainous middle school bully.

Pictures of your neck covered in hickeys, your naked breasts, ass cheeks striped with red after getting spanked, your leaking cunt, just endless and endless media dedicated to pieces and pieces of your body like you were never a whole person.

The earliest ones though tell a different tale, from off-guards to your drooling face as you napped in the middle of the day.

He has a favorite picture. Your eyes are watery from the cold, snowflakes stuck between lashes, nose and cheeks flushed red, and you're smiling. Smiling right to the camera. Right at him.

"Eren, are you taking a picture?" You asked, bouncing in place, giddy that it was finally snowing.

"Not of you, shut up. Get out of the way." His voice is gruff but not harsh.

You laughed and jumped into frame anyway, and the bright streetlamp behind you made you seem like you were wearing a halo.

He wishes he had more pictures of you being...yourself. Because now your crying face displayed over countless pixels haunt him. But like a fucking degenerate, he still jerks off to all the nudes he coerced from you. Sometimes he cries when he's jerking off which is probably the most pathetic thing he's ever done. This is what you've reduced him to.

He hates the sound of his own voice.

Breathe through your fucking nose. This is for your sake. Otherwise, I don't mind face fucking your lifeless body. You'd be more useful that way anyways.

Eren goes through the motions of life without really feeling like he's in the moment. Seasons change and time flies. His mother dies, and his withdrawn father dies a year later. He proposes to Mikasa because it's something he was always supposed to do. She loves him unconditionally, so even when he doesn't put any effort into the relationship but proposes, she says yes hoping he'll change and be a good husband.

He doesn't go to his parents' funerals because they're already dead. What's the point. He doesn't visit the candlelight vigils in your honor either. After tearing his ACL again and a somewhat traumatic injury, he kisses his pro-football career goodbye. To be totally honest, he's relieved. Because he had gotten quite bored, and maybe he was looking for excuses to quit the entire time. It's not like you'd be cheering on the bleachers anyways.

Mikasa has an affair, more out of a desire to see her fiancé feel something for her as opposed to any burning lust. But when she asks him if he's ever cared at all, with tears springing out of her eyes, he's just calmly drinking his fifth of whisky.

The dark-haired man doesn't even look up, "Let's break up."

"Is this about her, huh? Fucking get over it already Eren. She's GONE. And you have some big fucking audacity moping about her death like you weren't making her cry in the bathroom stalls every fucking day you piece of shit."

"Get out."

"You know what, I bet she killed herse-"

SMASH

The dark-haired woman doesn't finish her rant because the whiskey bottle smashes on the wall next to her head, sending glass everywhere and staining the carpet amber. She's unharmed, knowing it wasn't Eren's intention to hit her but Jesus Christ, what a monster.

She packs her bags and leaves the town like she should have a long time ago. All her friends had left years before and she stayed behind because that's where Eren was. She thanks her lucky stars that they didn't marry.

It's funny because he had always imagined himself being the first to move out of their small town, but he's the one staying. He can't leave this place. feels too tethered to ever leave. Every diner and liquor store is saturated with memories of you. He remembers buying cigarettes and exhaling the smoke to your face to piss you off in empty parking lots.

Maybe he stays in case you'll come back.

Eren's days consist of alcohol-fueled hazes. He doesn't know how his liver is still functioning. He doesn't know he's still alive after crashing his car into a tree when he was drunk out of his mind. He was on his way to get some more vodka.

He barely recognizes himself in the mirror anymore, not that he looks at himself much. His hair is long, nestled around his shoulder because he couldn't be bothered to cut it, dark circles under viridian eyes, and a perpetual stubble on his jaw.

His parents had left quite a sizable inheritance so there's no need to work but he's good with his hands. Likes crafting up birdhouses and cabinets, and occasionally does odd jobs around the neighborhood, never charging the elderly.

He's under the sink, tinkering with a wrench against the pipes when he hears the old lady coo at him.

"We're so lucky to have you Eren. I'm surprised a handsome young man like yourself doesn't have a special lady. The girls must be lining up at your door!"

The dark-haired man winces, and offers no comment, knowing that that the older lady was susceptible to long tangents.

"You know, we're getting a new neighbor." Eren grunts as a response. "They're young, I've heard. Isn't that exciting? Oh my, Eren! I think they're gonna be living in the house right next to yours..."

He tunes out the rest of the conversation because doesn't really care. He just hopes his new neighbors are quiet.

It's Sunday noon when obnoxious noises of moving trucks and people wake him up from his deep slumber. Eren's annoyed to wake up despite the fact he's probably been sleeping over 15 hours. He oscillates between getting too much sleep and getting none, his sleeping habits completely dependent on his dreams.

His nightmares are too visceral, visions of your corpse asking him if he'd enjoyed hollowing your soul with his teeth.

His dreams are achingly sweet. You in your prom gown, shining so iridescently like diamonds were sewn into the silk. He's dancing with you, holding you close, and then after you guys go to your favorite diner and gorge on burgers and milkshakes.

There's a peal of distinctly feminine laughter that stirs up Eren's senses. He's so pathetic, was the mere sound of a woman laughing getting him excited?

He sighs. He thinks of the whore he's frequently visited because of her resemblance to you. Hair color, skin color, face shape--with enough alcohol, he could really convince the person beneath him, was you. Maybe it's time to give her a call, but she's gotten so fucking needy and he hated how her voice didn't match yours.

The green-eyed man peers from the lace curtains, irritated by the brats playing on his lawn. A full family next door? Great, just what he needs.

The friendly knock on his door breaks him out of his daze. He contemplates whether he should answer but on the second more muted knock, he lets his feet guide him.

He turns the knob.

And Eren Yeager completely shatters.

Because it's you isn't it? You're the person standing in front of him? He can hear what you're saying but he doesn't really register it, soaking in the cadence of a voice he had long forgotten because all he had were pleading whimpers and frenzied moans stored on his cell.

He's shaking. Is he dreaming? He's dreaming, right? He knows it's you. You're older, far more beautiful than he's ever seen you. You have a different hairstyle, wearing clothes he would have mocked you for, and there's this joyfulness within you that makes you glow.

There's a mess of emotions electrifying in the pits of his stomach from euphoria, anger, and dread. He could feel his skin growing clammy like he was about to vomit at any second.

"Hey, are you all right?"

Doe eyes full of concern peer up at him. He voices out the syllables of your name like a desperate prayer.

You tilt your head to the side, "How do you know my name?"

#eren yeager x reader #bully eren yeager #toxic eren #eren yeager x you #yandere eren x reader #eren jeager x reader #eren x fem!reader #eren yeager x reader fanfiction #attack on titan fanfiction #dubcon tw #tw noncon #tw abuse #tw drinking #tw drunk driving #eren yeager fanfiction #dark content #dark fic #tw trauma #tw depr

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iiraven · 3 years

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Odyssey

Pairing: Poseidon!Armin x Reader

Genre: romance, smut

Warnings: slow-burn, minor character death, manipulation, stalking, possessiveness, Yandere behaviour, puppy play, piss play, body worship, throne sex, implied age-gap, oral(male receiving), hair pulling, collaring (without consent)

Word count: 9.8K

Synopsis: Armin’s quest for revenge leads him to you, daughter of a merchant and object of his infatuation.

Author’s note: thank you @bubbleteaimagines for hosting this collab and allowing me to join <3 Also, thank you @onyxoverride for teaching me how to write about pee!

Attack on Titan Masterlist

Present day:

If the river could speak, you wonder what it would say.

In the silence that surrounds the rushing of the water, you’re sure you would hear it. Sometimes, you’re sure you can hear it, but then you remember the dangers of trusting unfamiliar voices. Especially unfamiliar voices in a place like this.

No one goes near the river Shiganshina. And you forget the reasons why much too often.

It’s rocky, slippery, there’s no path to walk on, and the nymphs grow sharp teeth when men approach them, hissing and eyes glowing red. But that’s what makes it perfect for you.

Sasha first mentioned the river months ago, recalling the places on the island that her and her father avoided whenever they went hunting. You hadn’t paid much attention to it until days later, when Connie recounted with round eyes how Floch’s body was found beside the river Shiganshina, mouth full of water and eyes gouged out. You knew you needed to go there yourself.

A pearl necklace is what you stole. And under the guise of going to wash clothes at the well, you made your way south of your small island with only Sasha’s vague instructions and your intuition guiding you.

You could hear the ocean as you walked through the untouched woods, your heart hammering in your chest every time the waves crashed against the island’s cliffs. You weren’t allowed to see the ocean- you weren’t allowed to be around any large body of water, for that matter- but you still knew your island well enough to know that a step in the wrong place could lead you tumbling down the cliff.

You would die before you got to feel the water on your skin and that, you thought, would be the most tragic part.

As your feet began to sink into the muddy ground, you could smell the salty water, and a slight metallic scent behind it that only drew you in closer until you reached a clearing. It was small, crowded with foliage with only a few dead plants on the ground where you could only assume people had attempted to step foot.

And there was the river. It was small, its water emerging from underground before the tide pushed it to the edge of the island- to a waterfall. So loud that it could drown out any noise, any screams. You shivered. For a moment, you just stood back and watched. The water was was green, but so clear that you could still see the fish swimming beside the floating objects. Coins, silver, small statues, and whatever else hopefuls had tried to offer. You pulled out your own offering and whispered a short prayer before throwing the necklace in.

It could have been your imagination, but the water calmed. It was quieter. And, like that, you felt as if the river had opened up its arms to you. Strong arms that you have to be cautious not to spend too long within lest you get trapped.

Thankfully, you’ve learned to read the signs. You know when the river wants you to leave, when it wants you to keep your distance, when it wants to keep you close, and even when it wants you to bathe. Those are the special moments. It’s rare the river is calm enough for you to dip your naked body into, but surrounded by the cool water, you feel like you could stay their forever.

If the river could speak now, however, you’re sure it would tell you to fuck off.

Either that or it would tell you to come back when you have something more to offer its god than a single golden bead from your grandmother’s necklace. Only three are left on the thin string, though you think you might keep the last one to honour her death. After that, you’ll have to go back to offering coins and whatever other trinkets that will keep the god of this river sedated long enough for you to dip your feet into the cool water, maybe take a sip, and then return home before your father realises where you’ve been, much less where you’ve been unchaperoned.

The latter is hardly your fault. Sasha and Connie are too scared to step foot in the Shiganshina forest, let alone the river itself. And you can’t trust anyone else to accompany you, especially the servants whose tongue could slip at the drop of a golden coin. Your father would never forgive you for spending time in the territory of the God of the Ocean or- as he liked to call Armin- the destroyer of seas. And thus, being left alone seems to be the only way.

Well, that’s unless Mr Arlert decides to join you.

The owner of the stable who appeared on the island out of nowhere is the last person anyone would expect to be brave enough to spend time at the river Shiganshina. He mostly keeps to himself, only ever seen tending to his horses or immersed in scrolls of literature and poetry. And yet, he’s here almost as often as you are, almost as vulnerable as you are.

Despite his solitary nature, Mr Arlert has been quick to make himself adored. Mothers swoon over his charm, scholars constantly indulge in his curiosity, and sailors are fascinated by his knowledge of the world and its oceans. He’s no warrior, and already in his late twenties, but he’s still without a doubt one of the most eligible bachelors on Paradis. And, yet, to any marriage proposal sent his way, he declines with a polite “A husband is not what I am fated to become”. Even Annie Leonhardt- whose father Mr Arlert would constantly visit- had her heart broken. But no one blames Mr Arlert, of course, who was there to comfort Annie, to make her realise that she just needs to be a better person, that’s all. It’s not his fault her heart broke, Mr Arlert reassured.

Thinking about it now, you’re amongst the handful of women who haven’t been offered to the tall blond. And with that comes a sigh of relief as you drag your fingers through the water.

It’s not like you dislike him- the opposite, actually- but being with Mr Arlert is like taking the hand of an invisible man in the dark and letting him guide you.

His words constantly have your thoughts spiralling in directions that they shouldn’t be. Thoughts about leaving the island, thoughts about going to the ocean, thoughts about becoming a priestess. Thoughts you aren’t allowed to have.

You fate is bound to the home you were born in, a thick rope tied to your ankle, only letting you go as far as this very river. And Mr Arlert sits beside that rope, a knife in his hand, blue eyes staring into your soul, waiting. You’re not sure what he’s waiting for. But what you’re sure of is that to be taken away from the life you know of is an inconceivable fantasy. The unknown is a dangerous thing, after all.

The small island of Paradis may lie far away from the rest of the world, but their core values remain the same. A woman must grow up to either serve her father or her husband. Your fate has already been decided for you. And, frankly, if it means not having to share a bed with an old man who marries you for your dowry, you’re very happy with taking care of your father until the day that he’ll be put into the ground.

But then there’s always the third option. A woman who serves neither her father nor her husband will serve her god.

You had never been given that option by your god-hating kin. Simply suggesting a future as priestess would earn you at least five lashes, so why… why can’t you stop thinking about it? Your instincts have you blame Mr Arlert, but you know that your fixation began before he arrived on the island; all he’s done is vocalise your thoughts.

As a gust of wind blows the leaves and the salt from the sea gently caresses your cheek, you wonder who your god would be. Do you resonate with Pieck’s beauty, or Zeke’s creativity? Maybe. But as you look into your reflection, you know that your god is no other than Armin, the god of the ocean. The fates must think this is hilarious, but you just want to scream.

“It’s getting late. I wouldn’t want your father worrying about you.”

You jump at the sudden voice, turning around at the familiar face, leaning against a tree with a gentle smile.

“Thank you, Mr Arlert.”

His footsteps are so gentle, as are his apologies.

“You don’t need to thank me. I’ve come to invade your space, after all.”

“It’s not my space, it’s Armin’s. The god is only letting me stay here.”

He smiles a knowing smile, one that you would usually find patronising on any other man. But Armin is charming, too charming for you ever to think that of him. “I suppose you’re right.”

He comes to sit down beside you, taking his usual place at your right- the voice of reason. It’s quiet for a moment, before you remember.

“Lemnos,” you say.

The blond smiles. “I’m not named after a place.”

And you roll your eyes, as you’ve done every time he’s given you a useless hint. “That hardly narrows it down.”

“Well, I can’t make it too easy of a game.”

“You can’t make it impossible either!”

“It seems like I already have.” And you’re not sure if you want to wipe the smirk off his face or just stare at it.

“What about Tree?”

Arlert laughs. “No, but you have one guess left.”

“What?!” You sit up straight, eyes wide. Now you really want to wipe the smirk off his face.

“You have seven guesses, and in the eleven months we’ve known each other, you’ve used up six.” His explanation is calm and rational enough for you to almost convince yourself that the rule has been there from the start.

“Wait- wait. I never knew about this!”

“I thought everyone did. It’s traditional wager rules.” Mr Arlert’s tone is sorry, but you know he’s everything but. So, you cross your arms and pout, hoping that staring him down might at least give you the smallest chance of winning your wager.

He leans forward, mirthful and you feel a shiver go down your spine. “What is it, little puppy, sulking because you’re afraid you can’t win?”

You flush at the implication of your loss- “No- no not at all- no”- before registering his actual words are and only then can you feel the heat rise and you’re sure it’s doing you no service. “I know I can win!”

“I know you can too,” he assures you.

You frown. “Are you being sarcastic?”

It’s his turn to flush. “No, not at all! You can win- the water god favours you, after all.”

And although you shrug, his words stick. They always do.

Before you go home, you pass by Armin’s temple and place at the foot of his statue the remainder of your grandmother’s necklace.

A year ago:

Amrin knew how fickle the gods were and he thought that this knowledge made him impervious to those feelings. He watched how Eren jumped from woman to woman daily, how Reiner picked and chose his battles without a care, how every single fixation a deity would have never lasted more than a year. He thought of how stupid it was to spend a life of immortality indulging in such temporary pleasures. And he looked down on his kin for that very reason.

It was only after one argument too many that Armin finally let it slip. The god of the sea was usually quiet, offering soft smiles, casual conversation, and minimal conflict. That was his only rule: keeps quiet before the gods of the pantheon as he takes his anger out on the humans below. But that day, he forgot about his rule.

Maybe it was the years of silence that caused the Eathshaker’s outburst, or maybe it was just Eren’s bored expression as he talked about his mistresses in front of Mikasa. Armin couldn’t take it. Gathered at a marble table beside all the Olympians, he scowled and told them how stupid they all were.

“Don’t you realise? You’re all wasting your immortality by being so idiotic, so fickle! Everything you touch becomes a temporary pleasure, ruined by your inability to act like real gods.”

He should have stopped; he really should have stopped. But the crack in the glass bridge had been there for years, and now the shards of glass were dropping down into the sea. “You might as well be human!”

The room went silent. Eyes went wide, and mouths gaped, but the gods opted for silence. Every deity wanted to speak up, maybe even draw their swords, but they were more intelligent than Armin was in that moment, which was more unusual than one might think. He had never snapped so violently before. Armin may have been aggressive, but he knew his place. Knew when to be docile. Now, he felt like he could crumble Olympus itself with his rage and bury the Olympians with their dead parents.

The king of the gods, however, leaned forward. His emerald eyes were unmoving, devoid of emotion though his lips tilted into a monstrous grin.

“You’re just as fickle as the rest of us, brother,” was all Eren said.

When Armin lunged at him, knocking the fine glass off the table, it was Mikasa who pinned him down. Arms locked behind his back, all Armin could do was watch as mirth flooded Eren’s face, and the god of the sky laughed. The bastard laughed and laughed and licked the small wound on his hand from a shard of glass. It healed immediately. Even their pain was temporary.

And like he had been doing for the past millennia, Armin found solice in his only rule: if he couldn’t take out his rage on his brother, Armin would take out his frustration elsewhere.

His first instinct was to find a woman, but the thought of seeking out temporary pleasure, from a mistress no less, reminded him too much of Eren. So, he descended to earth, trident in one hand as the other gripped the reigns of his horse and they rode for three days and three nights. That’s all it took for the god of the sea to find what he was looking for- someone deserving of his hatred.

There are many humans like the merchant. But most of their hatred is silent. And when it’s not, blasphemy often falls upon deaf ears. The merchant just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time when his drunk rambles led him up on the deck screaming out Armin’s name like it was venom in his throat, until he could scream no more. He was drunk, but the merchant’s hatred for the god of the sea did not cease when he was sober.

And when Armin heard his name, the god wasted no time calling forth a storm to sink the merchant’s ship. He took care to ensure that the arrogant man watched each and every one of his men be swallowed whole, their bodies only resurfacing lifeless, before the storm calmed.

It took five days for the merchant to swim back to his island.

He never returned to the sea.

As the weeks passed, he relocated his home to help him stay away from any body of water and made sure that his family followed suit.

But Armin followed, and the merchant’s father died weeks later with saltwater water found in his lungs.

Unfortunately, that was not enough to sedate the god of the sea’s need for vengeance. Fortunately, it was not enough to sedate the merchant’s hatred either. The hubris didn’t leave him. Instead, it just grew and grew and grew until the merchant considered himself more of a god than Armin would ever be.

“Oh, oh.” Armin couldn’t help but smile as he watched the man urinate before his temple. “This is perfect, so perfect.”

Armin was going to show his uncaring brother how different he was from the rest of the miserable Olympians. As he stood above the island of Paradis, golden hair blowing in the ocean wind, the god vowed to begin his Odyssey. An eternal Odyssey. A journey that would last longer than the ten fleeting years he had with the Greek hero- a journey that would last longer than the universe itself.

And he knew exactly where to begin. A man’s most valuable possession: his child.

It was only after your grandfather’s death that Armin noticed you. When he first began watching the merchant’s household, under the guise of either a guest or a bird, he had been surprised to learn that the blasphemous man had no wife, nor children. Armin only realised his mistake one night, when you came to lay a blanket on the drunk man’s barely conscious body. The merchant had pulled you towards him, muttering apologies and you had wrinkled your nose before offering him a soft smile. “It’s okay, papa”.

A daughter sheltered from the world, it seemed.

The god had initially thought you were one of the servants. There were only two in the house, and your tasks were all similar. But as Armin began to watch you closer, he saw how you did have a life outside your home with friends, interests, men- a life your father was blissfully unaware of.

The merchant hardly left home- playing the part of the sick man- and you took care of him- playing the part of your dead mother- in a happy sort of agreement.

You didn’t speak about it to your friends, but you detested your doting role. Armin could tell. The way you wrinkled your nose every time your father walked through the door, the eye-roll when you were given a load of laundry. The god couldn’t help by laugh at how pathetic the merchant was that not even his only daughter- his lifeline- cared for him. The merchant didn’t know, of course. Your fake smiles and gentle hands were enough to deceive him, keep him sane. But Armin was going to break that pattern.

The merchant didn’t deserve the care of a woman. He didn’t deserve anything. So, Armin was going to take you away from him.

His initial plan was to kill you. Simple, efficient, quick. And then he thought of dumping your body somewhere far so that the search for you would break your father’s spirit even more. He hesitated, though, he wasn’t sure why, but he did. And then, you changed your routine.

After meeting up with the two individuals you called your friends at the Sunday market- instead of going back home- you carried on walking. Through the houses on the outskirts and into the dense trees, you almost stung your sandal-clad feet twice before reaching a river. The river had no god of itself, but you still threw in an offering and muttered. Stupid human. And then you sat beside the river and- nothing. Your routine was boring, obviously a ritual to let you escape from reality. Yet, he couldn’t tear away from you. The woman at the river Shiganshina was a different one than the woman who served her father. The one here relaxed her shoulders, cursed at the world around her, smiled- albeit randomly but it was real. He decided there that he would kill you tomorrow.

But when, the next day, you led him back to the river, Armin was lost in you again. Lost in your honestly, lost in your need to escape. He wanted to see more, he needed to see more. Metaphorically, of course. But when you began undressing, the pleated robes dropping to reveal soft skin and tender curves, the god of the sea realised that he wouldn’t mind literally seeing more of you. Armin had been with goddesses and nymphs and, hell, even Aphrodite herself, but never had he been this awestruck. He had to hold himself back. Even though the way you were bathing made it seem like you were worshipping him, water dripping from your body, wet hair hiding the swell of your breasts. Armin’s breath stuttered. He couldn’t reveal himself. He couldn’t.

So, he watched, and watched. Trying desperately to take in everything you were from a distance. Armin didn’t count the number of times he visited you before finally decided that killing you was no longer an option. He told himself that his change of mind was progressive. A practical choice to draw out his revenge into the most painful and convoluted Odyssey. To do that, he couldn’t kill you. No. He was going to take you for himself. Armin was going to turn the daughter of the merchant into a servant of the one God he detested.

Putting the thought into your mind was pathetically easy. As you walked past his temple on your way home, an echo of laughter emerged from the marble building. You paused for only a moment, but it was enough for Armin to catch the look in your eyes. It was one of longing, mixed with a curiosity that threatened to pull you in. But you seemed to catch yourself in the act and hastened yourself home.

And so, Armin’s true Odyssey began.

For his journey to progress, he had to meet you. Not as a bird or a horse or through glances as a guest. He had to meet you properly. This was the only way to draw you in, he told himself. The only way for you to submit completely and willingly.

Armin could have forced you too your knees, but he had to ensure that your father watched has his daughter chose Armin over him. And chose Armin you would. Every piece was in perfect place. The fates seemed to have woven a beautiful cloth of gold for the god of the sea.

What he failed to realise was that the cloth was in fact a snare- a trap which he will never be able to escape from.

Eleven months ago:

A short gust of wind had the pears in your thin basket tumbling down onto the rocky ground. You rushed after the fruit, crouching down to pick it up when a shadow appeared, and a hand reached out to pick it up for you. The sandal-clad feet were pale- paler than anyone living on this warm island and the robes a fine, ironed white. He somehow seemed to glow brighter than his clothes, and you purposefully let your fingers graze his as you picked up the fruit.

“Thank you,” you said, standing up.

You were hoping that he wouldn’t catch your staring. But even if he did, you couldn’t tear your eyes off him. He was lean, taller than you but not intimidatingly so and his eyes were like oceans that you found yourself staring into as he introduced himself as Mr Arlert. Just Mr Arlert. The new owner of the stables with a voice so soft, it took a moment before you remembered to introduce yourself.

“Y/N. And thank you, again.” It isn’t appropriate for an unmarried woman to be talking to a man on her own, but you couldn’t help but ask. “Do you have a first name Mr Arlert?”

His smile was contagious. “I do. But names are a powerful thing. I’m afraid I can’t give mine up freely.”

“Oh.” You scrunched your nose. “Can I pay for it then?”

You were dead serious, but the blond man laughed. How can someone look so pretty when they laugh? You wondered.

“I’m serious! I can pay you; name your price.”

Mr Arlert looked down at you, blue eyes twinkling. “I’ll think about it.”

“So, is that a no?”

“It’s a no, for now. One day I’ll tell you my name.”

He was sweet, so sweet, but you still gave him a sceptical frown, nose scrunching and eyebrows furrowing. Mr Arlert in turn gave you a sorry look before his eyes lit up and he pulled out from his brown satchel a small book of yellowed pages and a dusty blue cover, the gold embossing hardly visible. You nose only scrunched further.

“My name is in this story. It’s mentioned few times, but it’s an important one,” he said to you.

You took the book and flipped through the worn pages, immediately recognising the tale of Aphrodite and Ares. The lovers.

Why the challenge? You wanted to ask Mr Arlert but you knew the answer you your get would be too cryptic. Besides, you think, I like a challenge.

“How long do I have?” You asked instead.

“A year and a day.”

“And what will I get if I figure it out?”

At this, he pondered. But it seemed feigned, and you wondered, just for a split second, if the man had planned this from the beginning. But why? This was another one of your questions that went unanswered that day. Because before you could say anything more, Mr Arlert leaned forward and said, “Your reward will be divine”. And he walked away.

Nine months ago:

Life was well after Armin arrived. There was no other way to put it. Your father was confining himself to his room more often than before, and you were finding more opportunities to visit the river, leave the house and, eventually, you met the handsome baker’s son. Jean was kind, a gentleman, but not the arrogant type like most the men your age. You didn’t even feel too much guilt when you thought that spending a future with Jean- taking care of him and his home- wouldn’t be too bad. It’s quite pathetic that your life had been reduced to not being “too bad”, but the idea of marrying Jean sat on the comfortable line between reality and fantasy. Safety.

And then you were visited at the river.

Mr Arlert wasn’t even surprised to find you there, he had just smiled and sat beside you as you clenched your fists and forced yourself to smile back at him. You had always enjoyed him, his company, his challenges, but now it was like he was provoking you. The river Shiganshina was your river, your special place away from the hellscape that was the town. And now Mr Arlert had brought himself and his ordinary life into it.

You pulled your sandals back on, the crease in your brow evident. He clearly couldn’t get the hint. But before you could stand up, he spoke, and you paused.

“I wish I could jump in and swim away,” he said.

Curiosity got the best of you, as it often did with the man.

“The waterfall would kill you.”

The awkward laugh again. It had an effect on you so that your jaw couldn’t help but unclench. “If it means that I get to touch a waterfall, I wouldn’t mind, you know?”

You knew. You knew exactly what he meant. But you didn’t tell him.

“Didn’t take you as the suicidal type,” you said.

“I might get saved, who knows.”

“If you’re counting on me to jump after you, I’m letting you know I won’t.”

“I know,” he laughed. “I was thinking of more of a divine rescue.”

You finally looked at him, and- unsurprisingly- his blue eyes were glued to yours. What was surprising was his unwavering tone, his straight face. Mr Arlert was being serious. Why was he opening up to you this suddenly? So far, your interactions had consisted of him staring, you trying to guess his name, and him continuing to stare. In that order. You knew there was more to him, but it’s only now that you found yourself wanting to seek that out.

“You think Armin would save you?” You didn’t miss Arlert’s smile.

“I’m hoping I’ve gained his favour- done enough for him to allow me freedom via waterfall.”

It was your turn to smile. “You probably have, You’re at the temple often.”

“Thank you.” He blushed and you quickly pushed down the thought of how cute he looked. Sitting beside you, trousers rolled up and feet in the water, Mr Arlert looked more than cute. He looked like he belonged. You weren’t sure how that made you feel but, in that moment, you didn’t mind him entering your world.

“I think you would also be saved if you jumped into the waterfall,” Mr Arlert said.

You laughed. “Is that your way of saying I’m a nice person?”

“Something like that.” He paused. “I think Armin would appreciate your- uh- honesty. You’re like a priestess.” He laughs nervously at your expression. “You know, they have this personal affinity with the water and such.”

You knew exactly what he meant. How a stranger could read you so perfectly, you weren’t sure. But as you hid your smile between your hands, you wondered whether you were prepared to face the fear of the unknown. Maybe, with Mr Arlert, it would be a bit less unknown.

A few days later, Jean was announced missing. A search party was sent out and even Mr Arlert, on his recently acquired brown horse, couldn’t find him.

Present day:

Armin isn’t sure if he likes playing the part of the nice boy or not. Humans are simple creatures who praise him continuously and, without divine responsibilities, there is no need to take his rage out anywhere. But a god is who he is, and every day, he yearns to be seen as one. To be seen as one by you. He watches as you worship him, but you never look at him- not like you do the statues, or even the small river which you think is your only true connection to the god of the ocean.

You both want more, and you both know that, but you only ever admit it to each other when you sit beside that very river. There, in those moments, Armin feels a bit more like a god. Whenever he’s around you, he feels a bit more like a god.

He’s told you before, but your perfect honesty has made it easy for him to unravel around you. He wants to unravel around you in other ways, too, and he wants you to unravel around him. Armin can’t count the number of times he’s sat beside you at the riverside and wanted to do nothing more than to kiss those lips of yours, to press the hard cock that he hides inside of you and watch as your eyes roll back, and you call out his name.

But the God of the Sea is not Eren. Armin will earn you. And he’s very close to doing so. Not Mr Arlert. You have no interest in human men, that much is clear. You yearn for something more powerful. And you’re right. Only a god is worthy enough to stand beside you, lay between your legs, be in your arms. Mr Arlert is simply a means to push you to realising that the god in question is Armin.

In the meantime, he’s been nothing but patient.

It’s only when you come to his door one night, eyes puffy and red, that he lays his hands on you for the first time. He rubs your back as you cry and cry, fat tears refusing stop falling. You tell him about bout your father. About how, since he got better, he’s been refusing to let you out of the house, snapping at every moment and accusing you of being a filthy god-worshipper.

“He s-sai-d- he said we’re ‘gonna move away- said we’re gonna get as far away from the s-sea as possible.” You can hardly speak, though the tears have stopped, your voice still shakes violently. But Armin listens, he holds you close to him and repeats that everything is going to be fine.

You can’t stop thanking him as you leave, and he promises that his door is always open for you. “Whenever you call for me, I’m here,” Armin tells you. “Right beside you, always,” he adds as he watches you walk away.

He’s reached a new chapter of this Odyssey.

Present day:

You suppose your father’s death should have been expected. He was an old man, obviously depressed, and his only lifeline was his daughter who hated him.

You also suppose you should feel guilty. You don’t.

Familiar faces give their condolences and whisper questions of what is to happen to you now. You only pay heed to Sasha and Connie, though, who give you a soft hug before Sasha tells you that her family would be happy to take you in. You reassure her and everyone else that you have a plan, though your best friends are the only ones who seem to believe you.

“I heard Marie has a son who’s single, maybe they can-“

“You’re not actually talking about marriage here are you?”

“Well, the girl is all alone in the world, now! She needs a man to lead her on the right path.”

The old women are wrong, so very wrong. You don’t need a man. You’re fucking sick of men- sick of them all- everything they’ve created and everything they stand for.

What you need is a god.

The head priestess of Armin’s temple in unsurprised when you knock on her door with nothing but a bag and the clothes on your body. Those clothes are burned soon after, along with many of your other things, leaving your old life behind.

She tells you that you’re lucky there’s a place for you. The last priestess left running off with a man, “Which is a cardinal sin”, she makes sure to repeat every-so-often. The head priestess seems to hate men more than you do, sneering whenever Connie comes by.

Sasha and Connie are unsurprisingly shocked at your choice of work and even if they visit almost every day, they always tell you that they miss you. They think you’ve come the temple out of desperation- everyone does- and you let them believe. Because despite cleaning the marble floors or whatever other arduous duty you’ve been given, a smile is never far as you realise that you’re free from man. Indeed, explaining the truth to anyone would be far too difficult.

Well, except one person.

You’ve never missed anyone before. Not with your father keeping you so sheltered for most of your life. But as you push through the Head Priestess’ relentless schedule, you can’t help but miss Mr Arlert. He disappears after your father’s funeral, so you leave him a note at the empty stable with your final guess. You like to think he decided to follow his own path, you also like to think that he too wishes you were beside him, a guide in the unknown.

Present day:

The room is a box of marble, with a throne sat upon a dais at the centre and one fountain at every corner, each one sculped into a horse. The object of your interests, however, is the large bowl of water on the floor in front of the throne.

This is your initiation. You will emerge from this room not as an apprentice, but a Priestess.

You kneel down and lift the pot of clay to your lips. The head priestess kept on repeating how important it is to not put it down until you’re finished. So, you gulp the water down until you can see the image of Armin. You’re the one who selected the pot, with its faded paint depicting Armin and Hange’s fight for patronage of Sina. It’s a powerful image, but when you put the pot down, you come face to face with something very different. Armin is standing in a room-this room, you realise- and crouched down before him is a young woman, looking up in awe. It takes bit longer of a moment for you to realise that the woman is you.

Looking up slowly from the pot, the first thing you see is sandal-clad feet. Golden sandals, just as fine as the robes he wears, draped in perfect waves. The first word you think of to describe him is divine and it’s indeed accurate because-

“Mr Arlert.” Your voice is barely above a whisper.

But you know that’s not correct. The man- no, not a man- before you is taller than Mr Arlert, by a foot and a half at least. His muscles are more prominent that the stable boy’s ever were, strong legs visible through the large slit between the layers of fabric draped over the god’s figure. Half of his shoulder-length hair is tied back using a golden pin whilst the rest frames his perfect, perfect face. You can’t help but think that Armin looks nothing like his statues- no medium of art could capture the ocean within his eyes, glowing in the dull light of the room. Then again, the stories didn’t capture the way the god acts either.

“Armin,” you say, this time your voice louder.

Now, you know.

His sad smile is familiar, but there’s something there that never was. “Oh dear,” he says. “I’m afraid you’ve lost out wager.”

Armin can’t help but compare you to a puppy, with large eyes staring up at him from your crouched position and an expression a perfect mix of excitement, curiosity, and shock.

You reach out a hand tentatively, but it hovers in the air between the two of you once you notice Armin’s raised brow. But he doesn’t rebuke you for it. After all, it’s only your first encounter with the god. He can’t expect you to behave perfectly, to adopt the right etiquette- no, he’ll have to train you first. Like he would a baby mutt. The thought makes him smile.

“I’ll accept any consequences, my god,” you say. Your voice sounds so sure of itself, so unlike your usual ramblings, those that Armin could and would listen to for hours. Right now, though, the certainty, it’s laced with desire that sends blood rushing south. You don’t notice. You’re too lost in his eyes to notice anything.

When he places his hand on your chin to hold it up, he can feel you shiver. “Such a perfect little worshipper,” he says. “I couldn’t possibly punish you.”

Armin can swear he sees disappointment in your eyes before he turns around and walks up the dais. The marble of the throne is cold beneath him, but the sight of you looking up at him with such longing is enough to warm him up. Now, Armin is sure you’ve noticed his growing erection because you crawl towards the dais, not yet climbing it, but close enough to see and lick your lips.

“Let me thank you at least, Armin.” He almost groans at the sound of his name. God, he wants to hear you say it over and over.

“Come here.”

And you climb up the dais only to pause before Armin leans forward and grabs your hips. Two lips, as if led by an invisible string, meet. You kiss like you’ve been waiting years for Armin and, in a way, you have. His tongue is inside your mouth quickly and he’s kissing, sucking, letting his teeth gently graze your lips as he revels in the feeling of you. As your bodies lean against each other, you can feel his heart hammering against your own. His chest is stone, but his lips are so soft and your hands find his golden hair. It’s also softer than it looks, and Armin can’t help but let out a moan as you gently tug.

When you pull back, his pupils are blown. “Thank me, then,” Armin says, breathless.

Sitting between his legs, your hand is tiny compared to his cock, and you can’t stop staring at it. Long and somewhat slender, but veiny with a flushed red top- he can see you gulp before you take an experimental lick at him. Armin’s hold on your hair only tightens and you look up at him, doe eyed and seemingly innocent.

“Put it in your mouth, pretty girl,” he says, guiding your head gently. “So obedient- Yes, exactly, just like-ah- just like that.”

But he doesn’t need to push down- no- he lets you set your own pace only because you do it so perfectly, almost as perfect as the wet noises you make. Armin doesn’t have time to be surprised, he’s just able to react fast enough to suppress his own moans so he can hear your wet tongue caress the base of his cock, as your lips create the perfect o-shape to accommodate him. Your drool is everywhere in a matter of seconds- his balls are coated with it, and so is your lap, where the spit seeps through the thin white fabric you call a robe.

“Like a puppy,” he murmurs. And you look up quizzically. “You’re drooling over me like a desperate puppy- a puppy in heat,” he grunts. “You just want to please me, don’t you? ‘S alright, puppy, I’ll let you do that.”

If you could nod your head, you would. Instead, your cheeks burn, and Armin is so lost in the way that you look- not even able to take his entire cock in his mouth- that his hips begin to buck unconsciously. He hits the back of your throat, and you gag at the sudden impact, but he hisses and murmurs “What a good, wet hole. So good, good-”

The earthshaker is afraid that if he speaks any louder, his voice will slur into incomprehensible sultry sounds. But as you struggle to take his cock even deeper into his mouth, he lets out groans that go straight between your own legs. You moan around him, and the reverberations make his head roll back. God, you could stare at him forever. And he would let you.

“Look at me,” he says whenever your eyes go astray. “Look at your god.”

As his hips buck more violently, Armin can feel the pressure in his lower stomach, the impending orgasm and he wants to stop- wants to hold out the way he always has. But he can’t, it’s too much and he just cannot pull out of you. He simply pushes further and further into your tight throat, repeating your name like it’s a blessing. “fuck, puppy, ‘m going to- I’m going to cum down your throat. You want that, do you you’re your god’s cum- ah, fuck, ahhh”-

Pushing your head down to the base, both of his hands at the back of your head, Armin cries out you name and you can feel the warm liquid go down your throat, thick ropes filling up your mouth, some of it dribbling out. Armin reflexively pushes it back in your mouth, ordering you to swallow it all, to show how grateful you are. Of course, you oblige. But before you can even regain your breath, Armin suddenly pulls you off his cock. His pupils are dilated, and he wears an expression- anger? Shock?

“You’re not a virgin,” he hisses, teeth gritting against each other. His breath is frantic, uneven. It’s not a question and you begin to recognise his expression. Rage. “You’ve done this before.”

Fuck.

The God of the sea has his fair share of consorts and mistresses. Some of them virgins- though he never chases them the way Eren does- some of them not, but none have made him cum so fast. He would like to blame it on the year of pining, of restraint, but he knows better. It’s you. You do this him. You make him so wild, so willing, so pliant even.

In that moment, as he looks your worried face, so desperate to please, he thinks that he’ll never be able to let it go. You’ve consumed Armin and he wants to do nothing more than burn eternally. You must understand that- that you exist as his beacon, that’s where you’ll be your happiest, but those thoughts are too complex for a human. You, in your fragile state, can’t understand. It’s alright, he’ll just have to show you bit by bit that you’re his. But to do so, he must first take on the role he’s familiar with. That of the punisher.

“Who is he?” Armin snaps.

“It was only-“

“Who is he?”

You pause. Memories of nights spent together, huddled close and trying to keep quiet already fading. “Berthrolt Hoover.”

Armin’s shoulders relax, “I see.”

His breathing slowly goes back to normal, and, at the back of your mind, you know you’ve signed the young warrior’s death. But your worry is fleeting as Armin grabs you by the neck and hoists you over his knees, laying you down on your stomach effortlessly. “A priestess who isn’t a virgin?”

You look up as see Armin’s familiar sweet smile, but it’s laced with mirth that makes you forget the Mr Arlert he was before. You cry out at the first slap of his hand on your ass, more out of surprise than pain.

“I don’t think the people of Paradis will be very happy to hear that,” he says. “An unmarried woman giving herself away to a pathetic boy.”

Slap!

“I’m sorry!” you cry out. “It was a mis-”

He slaps you thrice.

“No excuses, dumb little puppy. I’m afraid you’ll have to endure this punishment.” His voice is deceptively soft, as if he is actually sorry. And when you look back up at Armin, his face betrays no malice. But it doesn’t show any cruelty either. Instead, there’s a fascination.

Armin has you sprawled across his lap, at his mercy and he is discovering you bit by bit. As a god. His cock twitches and then suddenly he tugs off the fabric of your robes and they disappear.

The way you squirm is half- hearted, and Armin has to laugh. “Embarrassed? Now of all times? I didn’t know you were such a prude. Or is this all just to compensate for the fact that you’re a whore in my temple?”

You shake your head, “I swear, I’ve never belonged to any man!”

Fingers trace the expanse of your naked body, soft enough to send shivers down your spine. “Oh? Really?”

“Yes yes, I swear, ah!” His fingers find your naked ass and they grab onto the flesh, massaging, groping, feeling you. Armin’s other hand rests on top of your head, stroking it gently and you’re so lost in his touch that you almost forget to speak.

“I belong to no man, I never have. Only you. It’s always been you, Armin.”

The god’s eyes widen, and he gently pulls you up from his lap only to seat you on it, upright and, this time, there’s so much more to admire. “You’re right,” he says. Armin captures your lips and this time, it’s longer, rougher. He doesn’t want to pull back, doesn’t want to lose the feeling of your soft lips against his, but his hands have already found your breasts and soon, his tongue joins them. You moan as he begins to lap at your breasts, leaving hickeys and spit in his wake as his finally finds your nipples and begins sucking them like a child as you whine and lean into him.

“You do belong to me,” he finally says, his voice partially muffled as he loses himself in the worship your breasts. “You’ve always belonged to me.”

And you can do nothing more than nod your head as your fingers tangle in Armin’s hair and you’re pulled into another kiss. His hand goes down your body, squeezing every single mound of flesh as if it needs to be touched so that when he finds your cunt, Armin can’t help but smile at how wet you are.

“Already, but I’ve hardly done anything to you?”

What a liar, but you don’t have a chance to tell him before he plunges a finger inside of you. “Oh, puppy, my puppy,” he groans at the contact the same time you moan, pushing your hips against his digits. “You like my fingers like that inside of you?”

“Yes, yes, I do, I really love them- it feels, oh my god, it feels too good!” you grip his shoulders, unable to do anything but desperately buck your hips at the smiling Armin. He knows what he’s doing, he knows that his fingers are giving you just that satisfaction, but it’s still not enough to bring you over the edge.

“Please Armin, please.” You squeeze his shoulders.

“Tell me what you want, tell me, I’ll give it to you- I swear.”

“I want to feel you, all- ah- all of you. I need to feel you inside of me!”

You’re not sure at which moment Armin removes his robes, but as he moves both of your legs so that you’re straddling him, your hands are on his bare, lean chest. The god’s nipples are flushed pink and pert, practically calling to you and you respond by brushing your fingers over them and watching him twitch ever-so-slightly in response. You withhold the urge to take them into your mouth, even as Armin rubs his cock against your cunt, releasing the sweetest of sounds.

He’s already leaking precum and it mixes with your juices so perfectly, his cock being dragged back and forth, only making you gush even more. “So messy,” he mumbles as he uses his tip to spreads your juices across your thighs. At this point, you can practically feel it throbbing, ready to be sheathed inside of you and the whimpers of your desperation echo against the temple walls.

When Armin slips inside of you, simultaneous gasps escape your lips. The god pulls your body closer to his as you throw your head back, stars in your eyes.

“Look,” he whispers. “Look how easily I slip in- it’s- it’s like your cunt is made for me.”

“Armin,” you whisper back. “Armin, Armin- ah- Armin.”

He sinks you down slowly, the stretch hitting every single spot that leaves your legs practically limp. The god is holding you up, whispering his own mantra that you can’t hear over your bliss. Once inside, your eyes look lock with Armin’s and he’s staring at you in a way he’s never done before. You’ve never seen pupils so dilated and the two of you stay like that as if making up for the moments when you should have been connected in this way. An eternity, it seems, the two of you have needed each other.

“I’m your god,” Armin finally says. “I’m your god and- hng ah-” He begins moving you up and down his shaft. “And I’m going to make you cum all over this cock- okay? All over your god’s cock.”

You nod your head pathetically as he lifts your hips and slams them down against his own. He is strong, ruthless in the way he bucks his hips up every time he lifts you from his cock, as if he can’t bare the empty feeling of not having your tight pussy clamped around him. At this relentless pace, you’re sure that the sound of your connecting bodies could penetrate even these marble walls. And yet, you don’t hold back. Thanks and praises spill from your swollen lips and Armin can’t help but lean forward and push his tongue between your mouth, as if he can absorb all of your word. “So good, so good, it’s- uah- I just want more, more of your cock, you fill me up so good!”

Armin can’t deny you. He pushes your thighs to your chest and picks up your entire body to fuck himself. He manoeuvres your body like a toy and as your tongue rolls out and your eyes become glassy, you begin to look like one too. The only sounds coming out of your mouth are incomprehensible, even as Armin attaches his mouth to one of your bouncing tits, you can only squeal.

“Such a good puppy,” he says between kisses. “Letting me use her holes like this. A god using a puppy’s holes- you should be- you should be grateful! Tell me, tell me you’re grateful!”

“I am!” you cry out. “I am grateful!”

“Good girl, good puppygirl.”

When Armin flips you over, you’re sat on his throne and he fucks into you harder, harder than he was doing before, and you swear his moans are louder too. He’s looking down at the movement of your stomach as if hypnotized by the way his cock disappears into you. And, in a way, he is. The fascination of being inside of you- just the idea even- is enough to make him want to cum.

The sudden position has him hitting new spots and the build-up is so fast, you hardly have the time to warn him. “Armin, Armin I’m cum-“

He grabs your face as you release around his cock, body spasming but unable to look away as Armin’s gaze burns through you. “Good girl,” he says. “Show me, show me how you cum. Just like that, just like that.”

He continues to plough his hips into yours and the spasms of your pussy leave him unable to hold back. “Inside of you,” he practically growls. “I’m going to cum inside of you- yes, yes, yes I am puppy. I’m going to cum inside of you and you’re going to show me how you take it yeah?”

You’re too far gone to even register the implications of what he’s saying, but he buries his cock in your warm walls and releases his cum inside of you with a heavy groan. “Just like that, just like that- I’m going to fill you up with my seed, puppy, my puppy.”

Armin feels like he’s emptied his balls- two powerful orgasms which leave his legs shaking violently. And yet, he pulls out of you slowly and stands back up to his full height, cock in front of your face. Almost instinctively, you rub your cheek against it, giving Armin soft kitten licks and he coos at you, stroking your hair. But he doesn’t push, he just holds his cock there and pumps softly as he stares at your fucked out face. Messy, covered in his spit, his hickeys, his bites, his cum- you look perfect, divine. Only one thing is missing. “I’m going to give you everything I have, puppy. And you’re going to take it, okay?” You nod and open your mouth for him and, immediately, a strong stream of pee emerges.

At the bitter taste on your tongue, your eyes roll back, and you spread your legs even wider, a welcome to the mess he is about to make. Armin accepts and angles his cock to release his pee over your chest, then your stomach, and then your already-throbbing cunt. He lifts a foot to rest on the throne and Armin doesn’t think he’s even seen such a beautiful sight in his life.

As if guided by an implicit will, Armin’s foot hovers on top of you and suddenly, he presses against your lower stomach. Your eyes snap back into focus as you whine out for him to wait, wait just a moment “I just had water,” you cry out. “It’s gonna- It’s gonna come out!”

But Armin simply grins. “Let it come out,” he says and presses his foot down harder. “Pee yourself dumb little mutt, be a good puppy for your owner.” The trickle that emerges is involuntary, but Armin’s grin is wider. “Yes, good girl, just like that. Let me see more, let me see more of you.”

The pressure that was holding the bowl of water back broke and you felt the warm liquid against your thighs before you realise what’s happening. Armin practically moans as he watches you whimper and struggle to hold your pee back as it spreads over the throne, the dais, and even Armin himself. He doesn’t stop until you’ve given it all to him.

You expect Armin to disappear.

You’ve given him everything. His goal is complete, you think, he has nothing more to do with you. But, as he has done many times before, the god surprises you. Armin’s body is heavy against yours when he collapses on top of you, but the weight is comforting. Despite the malaise of urine and cum rubbing against both of your bodies, you wrap your arms around the god of the ocean and hold him close.

Even as you close your eyes and lean your head back on the marble throne, Armin doesn’t leave you. Even as you open your eyes back up and see blue ones staring back at you, the look he gives you is so familiar and long hair in such unfamiliar disarray that you can’t help but smile.

He doesn’t ask why. Instead, Armin calls forth a stream of warm water from the adjacent fountain to clean the both of you. It feels like a fever dream the way floating droplets caress your bodies, and when Armin stands you up, his hands not leaving you, the perfume that suddenly envelops you is heavenly.

“Can I give you a last kiss, please?” you ask when your robe appears once again. And Armin leans forward to capture your lips, dragging his tongue on your bottom lip as if to taste you.

It doesn’t feel like a final kiss. You’ve had many of them- Jean, Sasha, Berthrold, your father, and even your mother, though you can’t remember it. This kiss is different. It feels less like a kiss and more like a promise, a vow. a shiver runs down your spine.

“I am your god,” he says and lifts his both of his hands slowly to wrap around your neck. “And you’re my worshipper.” You gasp as a cold sensation spreads around your neck, just below Armin’s fingers. It’s sudden, and heavy and when he removes his hands, yours fly to your neck and there’s a metal band there where there was none before.

“It’s sculpted from Hephaestus’ gold,” Armin says as he strokes his fingers along the metal. But he’s not looking at his gift, instead he looks at you.

“Armin- I- this is. But why?”

For the first time, he can’t read your expression. But it doesn’t matter. You belong to him. You always have, but now you know. And if it takes time for you to understand, Armin can wait. He’ll wait right beside you, always, always there to guide you.

“This is not the end of my Odyssey. My Odyssey is eternal,” he says before giving you another short kiss and disappearing, the warmth of his lips still present.

The gods might not all be fickle, you think, so you just smile sadly. But the gods are all selfish, so you touch the collar around your neck.

A/N: This is my first ever collab and I was- as still am- a bit insecure about how this story turned out so I appreciate all of your support ❤️. I would also like to apologise to my fellow history nerds for the historical inaccuracies.

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shittypaperwork · 3 years

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Aot Confession Hc's p.2

Since Y'all liked the first part so much, I'm gonna make a second one!

Pairing: Random Aot Characters x Gn!Reader

Warnings: Suggestive, Spoilers

Floch Forster (19y/o)

He is a bit weird to describe

Definitely could be a yandere

He needs you in his life so much

So he wants to impress you, especially in that fight against the alliance, since he isn't good with words

Instead of impressing you, he defends you from an attack, you thank him and he says "I have to protect my loved ones, right?"

Niccolo

He too isn't really good with words

He loves to cook for you and then watch you eat it with happiness all over your face

It's the best sight to him, especially if you tell him after how good it tastet

He may blurb it out like "god I love you so much" on accident while watching you eating his food

Onyankopon

Definitely is prepared and planned everything out

He takes you on a romantic date for a picknick, it's perfect

After that, you two watch stars, and he just tells you without hesitation

Connie Springer (19y/o)

Nervous asf

Needs Jean and Sasha for emotional support

He wants to just tell you, but he decides otherwise and Jean just pushes him to you and he stuttered it out so fast and ran away after

Jean and you just shook your head

Jean Kirstein

He wants to make it epic

He discusses it with Connie and Sasha, them giving their approval

Before you start to head to Liberio to get Eren, he stops you and says "Before one of us may die out there today, I want you to know how much you mean to me, and if we survive this, please be my girlfriend"

Hanji/Hange Zoë

They are actually not nervous, since they thing you already do, due to their behavior towards you, how they are always around you

You may have an Idea of Hange's feelings, but you don't want to think about it too much, since it's not confirmed

One day, as you help them with their experiments again, they would eventually just kiss you right there, maybe from excitement

Zeke Yeager

He would play that whole 'secret admirer' thing

Only Yelena knows about it, and she told him that it's a stupid idea

You actually enjoy figuring out who wrote these lovely letters

He always writes about how perfect you are and gives you a few hints about himself

Maybe one day you figure it out, and you approach him, he just grins and asks you out on a date

Colt Grice

He has a script

He learns it by heart, wanting to say it without to stutter

But after saying it to himself, he gets thoughts about how it could turn out bad and that you may be disgusted by him or something like that

Falco helps him preparing

After he took all his courage together, he approaches you while you're training outside alone

He clears his throat before literally screaming his words at your face, and you just laugh about akwardly, but then answer him normally

-> Part 1

-> Masterlist

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bumackerman · 3 years

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RULES AND INFORMATION

INTERACTION RULES;

I. 18+ only! minors do not interact! ∴

a. you must be at least 18 years of age to interact with my account, as well as my works.

II. discrimination and/or bullying is forbidden! ∴

a. do not send hate to me, or anyone interacting with my account. you will be blocked and reported as soon as it is sent. i do not condone bullying, hate speech, discrimination, ignorance, or bigotry of any sort. this is a safe space for adults.

HARD NO’S;

I. disabilities, or anything related! ∴

a. i will absolutely not write about a disability unless i’m educated on it, or i have it myself. please do not request them. it makes me very uncomfortable.

b. not only that, but it can also be incredibly offensive to requests if you do not have that disability yourself.

II. character x character. ∴

a. i will not write about your ships. this blog is character x reader only!

III. sub!reader! ∴

a. i am not a sub, i do not like writing for sub!readers, nor do i like reading them. it’s not my thing. there are plenty of other blogs that write dom!characters. i’m just not one of them.

IV. teacher/student relations (and age gaps). ∴

a. to me, it sounds like fetishizing pedophilia (unless it’s specifically stated, and implied multiple times that they are in a college au or something).

b. teachers should not be fetishized, nor should students. i won’t shame anyone who writes about it, i just don’t feel comfortable doing so.

V. weapon play. ∴

a. personally, i am not intrigued by this concept. it doesn’t scare me or make me squeamish or anything, but it’s also isn’t arousing.

b. me aside, it can possibly very triggering for people, and i’d rather not take that chance.

VI. yandere characters. ∴

a. i find it very creepy. i will not write about something that scares me.

b. i also only write for the canon version of characters (personality-wise), so that would be a direct contradiction.

VII. furry-play and/or omegaverse content. ∴

a. again, not my thing. i don’t want to write about something i’m not into, and not educated on.

b. what i will write about are puppy boys, bunny boys, stuff like that.

VIII. specific appearances. ∴

a. please do not request things such as ‘fem!reader’, or things that imply requesting a specific appearance. i will decide on my own accord whether or not it will be fem, gen-neu, or masc.

IX. triggering topics. ∴

a. i will absolutely not be writing anything that could possibly trigger a larger audience. things such as; r*pe, p*dophilia, s*mnophilia, inc*st, self-h*rm, s*icide, eating d*sorders, k*dnapping, etc.

X. waste kinks. ∴

a. the only bodily fluids i will include in my writing are sexual fluids. i will not write about blood, feces, urine, or vomit.

XI. other. ∴

a. some other kinks that i will not write about are fisting, age-gap, foot fetish, daddy kink, etc.

b. i will not write for;

hunter x hunter; killua zoldyck, gon freecss.

my hero academia; todoroki tōya, mineta minoru, akaguro chizome, shigaraki (all for one).

demon slayer; kochō shinobu, shinazugawa sanemi, iguro obanai.

attack on titan; erwin smith, floch forster.

REQUEST RULES;

I. headcanons and drabbles. ∴

a. choose a maximum of four characters per request.

b. be reasonable with the complexity of the request, but also, please be detailed with what you want. that way, the results can be as accurate as possible, and i can have an easier time writing it.

II. question and answer requests. ∴

a. you can choose one character per request.

b. you may ask anywhere from 1-10 questions from a character, and they will answer it how they see fit.

c. you can request as many times as you’d like, but please be reasonable.

III. full fics. ∴

a. i only write fics for collabs, commissions, or upon my own discretion.

if you have read these terms, and understand what has been stated, please leave a comment letting me know that you agree, and plan to abide by my rules while on my page, and/or when requesting something. if you are requesting anonymously, leave a note that you have read my rules, or i will not be fulfilling your request. please come back every once in a while for updated information. thank you.

-b.y.a. (updated 6/9/21)

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vs-redemption · 4 years

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1. I will write for these fandoms!

My Hero Academia

Attack on Titan (no zeke or floch sorry)

Black Clover (anime only)

Haikyuu (anime only)

2. I will write

oneshots /scenarios (ONE character 600~1000 words)

headcanons (Up to THREE characters)

3. You can request

Fluff Angst AUs (No A/B/O please)

4. You CANNOT request

Yandere NSFW

THINGS TO REMEMBER

All requests will be written as Character x Reader

For most romantic situations, characters will be aged up to 18+

✨I reserve the right to say no to a request if it makes me uncomfortable or if I really think I can’t do it. ✨

If you want to request something not mentioned above, feel free to send me a message and ask about it! :)

#bnha requests #bnha x reader #mha x reader #hawks x reader #keigo takami x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #dabi x reader #bnha #mha #hawks #keigo takami #dabi #katsuki bakugo #shoto todoroki #izuku midoriya #eijiro kirishima #denki kaminari

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holydayaria · 1 year

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Benefit of Doubt

Yandere Floch Forster x Reader

Synopsis: Your friends don't like Floch, Floch hates your friends.

Warnings: modern/college AU, theft, stalking, floch is a closet creep, reiner x reader in the mix too, floch being disgusting

Taglist: @princessfetus @brujaovermoxy @p00pdev1l @milkteavariant @7mental7

5043 words

Floch has a tendency to cling to you in social situations.

Not that he goes to places with many people, most of your time together is either one on one or with his friends. Maybe a group event that Jean or Eren choose to tag along to. He acts more like a bodyguard sometimes when he doesn’t need to. Glaring at the people around you, placing his belongings on the extra seats at tables so nobody else can sit there, always offering you his jacket when it was slightly cold or rainy, even when you were already wearing one. He’d rather be uncomfortable and risk getting sick than you.

Going to any party that Floch was also invited to, he often found himself stuck to your side. You had to actively mingle only with other girls, only then would Floch hang around Jean and Eren for the further duration of the party. You were one of his only friends, aside from Gordon and Sandra of course. But they didn’t understand him like you did, they didn’t challenge him like you did. He liked that about you, that you can disagree with him so confidently and still not turn your back on him, a true friend.

After the so-called “falling out” with Armin, any chance he had of inserting himself as a central part of your friend group was crushed. Floch had too much pride to apologize (not that he believed he had anything to apologize for), doubling down when pressured on it. That only made things worse, and even though it was in the past, the entire group already cemented their opinions of him.

About a year later and little progress has been made. Connie and Sasha are amicable to him, Armin is polite, and Mikasa outright ignores him. Out of the group, he’s closest with Jean and Eren, but not by a lot. Of course, how can he forget you?

Truth be told, Floch was willing to leave Sandra and Gordon in the dust if it meant being a part of your friend group, and thus being a bigger part of your life. It’s not something he can admit to himself, but there was a time that he regretted creating a permanent divide between himself and the others. He can’t say he truly cares for anyone else in that group now, they’ve all mostly shown their true colors; you’re one of the few ones he can tolerate.

You were the only one who really gave him a chance after what happened, trying to convince the others that Floch wasn’t so bad when they asked why you would ever hang out with him. You were able to mend his relationship with Jean, and even Eren, one of the most stubborn people anyone has ever met. You apologized on his behalf, you stuck up for him. Surely, you saw something in Floch that the others didn’t?

So why did you consistently choose your other friends over him?

Sure, you and Floch weren’t that close. You’ve been part of Eren’s friend group since high school, of course, you all share a deep bond. You only met Floch in your first year of college, meaning you’ve only known him for two years. (Really, it was just a few months over one year, but if you round that up it’s a year and a half, and if you round that up, it’s two years). Within those two years, you and Floch spent time together in the presence of other people, went to parties together, and studied together.

Even when you were studying for completely different courses, you’d usually do it in each other's company. You’d even lent him your notebook containing all of your Psych 1102 notes once you finished the class when he told you he was taking that course. It was a lie, it wasn’t even in his course map, but he just needed to keep the conversation going. Floch didn’t know you’d give him your notebook, not that he was complaining or anything. He didn’t care for the subject, but he read through your notes anyway to admire your handwriting.

Weekend trips, movie nights, and late-night drives were all reserved for your “real” friends, all events Floch was never invited to. He wonders if you talk about him, or if they talk about him. The idea of Connie or Ymir cracking jokes at his expense makes his nose scrunch in indignance, the imagined rejection of you laughing at the imagined jokes. Perhaps he’s just paranoid. But how can he not be? You’re his friend, and you’re also hanging out with people you know he doesn’t like. People who refuse to let Floch in, if only to be with you. People who constantly reject him unjustifiably, because they don’t understand their own hypocrisy. Floch can’t be blamed for not wanting them to taint you and cloud your judgement. If he had it his way, he’d be your only friend.

You’ve been awfully distant lately, something Floch intends to fix, no matter the cost.

The cafeteria was unusually empty. “Empty” meant it was only 65% full, and not overflowing with people. You, Ymir, Sasha, and Connie sat at the six-person table, talking and catching up while eating. Your phone buzzed and instinctively you went to grab it before either of the women sitting beside you saw it. You hoped it wasn’t what you thought it was, lately you’ve been getting enough shit for hanging out with Floch. He’s gotten bold to start his antics of sneering and glaring at those he dislikes, most of them being your friends. No matter how many times you try to tell him to knock it off. You haven’t spoken to him in a few days after he tried to goad you into talking bad about your friends.

“Your boyfriend texted again.” Ymir hums, looking at the notification on your phone screen. “He’s not my boyfriend.” You grumble, looking at the preview of the message.

Floch

Hey, if you’re free tonight do you want to watch a m….

“What’s it say?” Sasha leans against you from her seat, fry in hand. You hesitate, not wanting to open the messages app. If you do, Floch will know you read his text, and you’ve been trying to avoid him as of late. It’s been a nagging feeling, irritation stewing within you in his presence. You felt bad for it, but these feelings weren’t exactly… unjustified. There wasn’t anything wrong with Floch, but lately, he’s been a bit… pushy.

He outright asked you once why you never had enough time for him, as if he was your boyfriend and you were dodging his dates. Floch didn’t drop it, not when you got increasingly fidgety and not when you gave him the very reasonable excuse of having a lot of schoolwork. Sure, maybe you were avoiding some of his texts and lying about migraines to get out of hanging out with him every now and then, but it’s not your fault. Floch was just so intense and so stubborn about it, it’s draining, and you need time away from him to recharge.

He was never shy about his disdain for your friends, making him hard to hang out with. Usually, you were able to steer him away from it, but Floch was outspoken and when he had something to say, he said it. He was fine to hang out with, just not when he decided to badmouth others, which was becoming increasingly often.

“He’s kinda annoying,” Ymir says, eyes flittering around the cafeteria to check if he was around. Her eyes light up slightly when she spots Reiner and Historia, waving them over to sit at the table. “He is not annoying, he’s just,” You can’t come up with an excuse for his behavior, and you don’t want to admit that Ymir might be right, that he has been irritating lately. “You find every guy annoying.” Ymir snorts at that, a lazy grin drawn on her face. “He’s extra annoying, worse than Reiner.”

“What about me?” Reiner says as he takes his seat across from you. Historia sat across from Ymir, next to Connie. “Nothing.” Ymir gives her full attention to Historia, effectively tuning the rest of you out. You open the full text, biting your tongue. Sasha stopped looking at your phone, and when you glance back up she’s taking food out of Connie’s tray. You read the whole thing multiple times.

Hey, if you’re free tonight do you want to watch a movie at my place? I’ll make snacks.

…It’s not like you had anything to do tonight. You’re ahead in your classes, it should be fine. You’re not sure if you want to though, and that usually means you don’t. Floch wouldn’t take it too well if you denied him again, maybe you could use this chance to properly sit down with him and talk about his behavior. Maybe Floch would finally listen this time and back off, or at least try to meet you halfway for once.

…Perhaps you’re being too optimistic about the possible outcomes of this.

Floch glowers from the other side of the cafeteria, leaning against a wall. Gordon was saying something about class, it was tuned out. Floch narrows his gaze on you, waiting for a reply to a text. Occasionally his eyes drop to his phone, messaging app still open, staring at the read receipt. You saw the message, you must have. Your phone screen lit the moment Floch sent the text, you picked your phone up and looked at it. So what the hell? Was their conversation that interesting? Floch can’t remember a time you ignored a text when you were talking to him.

He’s about to walk right over there and ask you, tell you to come to his place later, that he’s picked out a great movie. It’s the one he heard Armin yapping about, the movie you and your friends were probably going to go see at the theatre. You won’t want to go with them if you’ve already seen it, yeah? Floch bites the inside of his mouth, working up the nerve to go over to your table. Sasha and Historia weren’t an issue, Reiner wasn’t intimidating to him in the slightest, Ymir…

Well, every man was scared of Ymir.

He can still see the slight surprise on the faces of some of your friends the last time he approached you while you were with them. The silent pleads for him to go away. At least Eren and Jean knew how to treat him, Armin and Historia’s fake niceties and Connie and Sasha’s playful jabs meant nothing to him. Watching Reiner and Historia fill up the seats fills him with unease, especially Reiner.

Floch doesn’t like the way you look at Reiner. He knows you like him, that you’ve liked him for a while. You haven’t made a move (yet), and Floch worries there isn’t much he can do to stop you two from getting together. All of the shy glances, inside jokes and obnoxious jokes Reiner tells. Your insistence to go to all of his games, hanging out with Reiner after school, but Reiner never looked after you like Floch did.

Reiner never eaves dropped on your friends’ conversations to make sure they weren’t talking bad about you, Reiner never walked behind you when you went to your classes to make sure you got there safely, and Reiner never drove past your place to make sure no peeping toms were around. Sure, Floch can never tell you he’s done any of these, but isn’t that all the better? That you have someone watching over you, to keep you safe, even when you’re not aware?

Floch isn’t sure why you haven’t gotten the hint and given up on that sorry excuse of a man; but it’s the one thing he never brought up with you. It must have been a sensitive topic, you had almost burst into tears when Floch asked why you ever thought Reiner would like you back. Sure, he could be insensitive at times, but surely that was an overreaction?

His phone dings with a notification. Finally, you responded to his text. From his spot in the cafeteria, he can see you put your phone right back down after sending it.

Sure, I’m free tonight. I can come to your place at 8 PM? :)

Tonight will be the night then, tonight Floch will sway your feelings away from Reiner. That guy’s no good for you anyway, you click much better with him.

Floch has been staring at the text from you for the past five minutes, the one saying you were here. He offerd to pick you up, but you so adamantly refused. It’s been long enough, where were you? Floch hopes you didn’t take the stairs, walking up to the seventh floor of the complex that way would take forever. There’s a knocking at your door, and excitement shoots through him, the sound serving as bullets to his thoughts. Finally, you’re here.

When Floch opens the door for you he can feel his heart hammering out of his chest. There you were, wearing a sweater and flared yoga pants, a floral silk scrunchie on your wrist. He hates that the sweater is a longer one. He hopes it’s just oversized and not something another man gave you.

“Hey! I’m not early or anything, right?” Technically you are, but it’s better than being late. Floch beams, trying not to be too excited for your arrival. How can he not be, you two haven’t hung out properly in a while, he’s just happy to see you. “Not at all, come in.” He steps to the side, letting you in.

His apartment is as you remember it, spacious with white walls and laminate floors. It’s hardly changed from the first time you came here, and you doubt it’s changed much since his grandparents purchased it for him. A jacket of his is tossed on the arm of a couch, and there’s an Xbox resting on the television stand. A few keep-cases containing DvDs and physical game copies rest on the shelves of the stand, and a chocolatey aroma wafts from the kitchen.

“I uh, I just stuck some cookies in the oven, they’ll be done soon. I can get some popcorn going to for the movie.” He offers almost sheepishly. He’s wearing a nicely fitted black shirt and jeans. It’s very basic, but something Floch put a lot of thought into, going back and forth between clothing options before you got here. Maybe he’s trying too hard, but you deserve him only at his best. “Yeah, yeah that’d be great!” With that, Floch goes to find some popcorn in his pantry, telling you to go ahead and get comfortable.

You’ve been here enough times to skip past the awkward sitting at the edge of the couch, kicking your shoes off, and getting situated. The television is already on, playing whatever was on cable. Currently, something involving a court case. You don’t pay attention to it for more than a minute before turning around on the couch to look at Floch in the kitchen.

“Oh, I forgot to ask, do you still have the notebook I gave you, for psychology?”

He pauses, bowl in hand. He turns to face you, thinking about what you said. “Yeah, why?” “Sasha’s taking psych next semester, I was gonna let her use some of my notes to help her. Could I get it back?” Floch, now looking back at his kitchen, bites his lip in thought. He tries to pull any memory, if he’s done anything to that notebook. He’s only read it and sniffed it a few times, but nothing egregious. It should be fine to hand it back to you.

“Yeah, it’s in my room, you can just go get it, ‘ts on the bottom shelf.” Floch says. He’s cleaned his room just for you, it’s changed since the first and last time you went there when he insisted you could conduct your study session on his bed. Maybe you’ll be impressed with how he’s rearranged things. “Okay, thanks!” You call to him, hopping off the couch and making your way down the hall to his bedroom.

His bedroom isn’t as sparsely decorated as the corridor or the rest of the apartment. A few posters are hung up on the wall, his bedsheets were swapped to a blue-gray flannel pattern, and a tall bookcase sits adjacent to the desk he does his work at. Multiple books he had to purchase for his classes, many classic books that he mentioned to you once he enjoyed reading. Your psychology notebook was on the last shelf, the spirals sticking out against the other hardcover spines of his books. You grab it, eyes looking over the shelf again to see if there were any books you recognized.

There’s something that sticks out to you. The light blue leather spine of a diary. You glance briefly at the empty hallway and can make out the sounds of Floch putting something in the microwave. Deciding you have enough time, you peel it out from its place on the shelf. The design is awfully nostalgic, with a gold lock and key attached to the book to keep it shut. You had the exact type in high school, a gift you got for your first day of 9th grade. Memories flood you of your old diary, thick with many pages you doodled and wrote in all the way until your senior year. You make a mental note to go dig it out of your closet whenever you go to visit your parents over break.

But why would Floch have something like this? It’s a bit girly, the lock is heart-shaped and so are the keys. It’s eerie how similar it is to yours, but these types of notebooks were very popular. Maybe he just liked the color. Surely it wouldn’t hurt to crack it open and take a look, just at the first few pages. No- it’s wrong, you can’t do this to your friend, but you just have to know what he writes about

The familiar cursive font printed onto the cover page reads; “This Diary Belongs To” On the line provided is your name, in your handwriting.

What the fuck.

Your heart drops as you realize this is your diary. Your diary, that somehow is in his possession.

You can’t believe what you’re seeing. In the margins of the full pages are Floch’s personal notes. He’s annotated your old journal entries and written his own entries on pages with extra space at the bottom or on the blank pages. One page, in particular, was folded, halfway torn out. As if he decided at the last minute he didn’t want to throw the entry out.

November 12, 20xx

Reiner sat with me at lunch, he-

The rest of the sentence is violently scratched out with a pen. Many sentences on the page are blacked out in sharpie after that. You remember the day you wrote this entry, or rather, you remember sitting with Reiner at lunch. It must have been 11th grade, and you remember gushing to Mikasa about it on the phone after scribbling it down in your diary. Flipping through the pages, any entry about Reiner was scratched out, or replaced with Floch’s name.

March 4, 20xx

I got assigned Reiner Floch as my lab partner, we had to dissect a frog. Nastiest shit of my life, I kept gagging so Reiner Floch had to do the whole thing for me. I had to answer all of the other questions and he let me copy off of his paper for the stuff about the intestines and stuff. He sat with me at lunch too im going to go crazy

Below the paragraph was an old drawing you don’t remember making, a scribble that you recognize as yours, but it has been scratched out and drawn over in marker. Whatever it was, Floch didn’t seem to like it. He’s gone through your entire diary, gotten an intimate view of your thoughts when you were younger, he’s done something you hadn’t thought he was possible of. Floch, so hurt over your past (and okay… maybe current) crush on Reiner, he inserted his name into the pages, rewriting your stolen diary to fit his narrative.

What the fuck.

You flip to other pages, those that are half full with old entries of yours, the rest his own handwriting. Half cursive paragraphs detailing the days you two hung out, what you wore, and how you styled your hair. Some of his writing was scratchier and he pressed harder with his pen, those pages mentioned the names of your friends, Mikasa and Armin in particular. Some pages were stained, something rubbed in and absorbed in the heavy paper. One in particular sticks out to you, written on the page next to the one with all the dried blotches.

I tried using your scrunchie to jerk off, the pink one with the flower pattern. It was awful but I did it because it’s your scrunchie. I did it for you. I don’t know if people wash scrunchies but you probably should when I give it back.

The words on the page jumble together and your head spins. When had he even taken your scrunchie or your diary? Nausea and dizziness overtake you and your cold hands begin to tremble. You force the silk hair tie off your wrist, writhing in disgust as you throw it across the room with as much force as you can muster. Violated, you feel absolutely violated. Floch’s voice comes from the end of the hallway, but you can’t understand what he says. He calls again, tuned out by your terror. He comes to his room, hand on the doorframe as he leans in. “Did you find it, it’s on the-” You both lock eyes, Floch watching you on the edge of his bed, stolen diary in hand. He can’t see the page you were looking at from where he is, but it doesn’t matter. He’s tainted every page of that book.

A look of horror flashes on Floch’s face for a brief moment as the situation dawns on him. He’s been caught; you had looked into the abyss that was his reprehensible actions, ones that Floch hadn’t even considered morally wrong until he saw the way you looked at him. Like you were afraid of him, like he was going to hurt you. You both looked at each other like deer caught in headlights; though to you, Floch looked more like the wolf that got caught stalking his prey.

“I- I should go.” You stammer, standing up. Unsure what to do with the diary, you leave it on his bed. He can keep it, you don’t want anything to do with it anymore. The thought that your friends are going to have a field day with this might have come to you if your senses weren’t clouded with panic and pure alarm. “(Y/N)-” “Floch, I need to go.” “Just let me explain.” He blocks the doorway, arms up to keep you from leaving. “I can explain.”

His room is closing in on you, your only escape is now gone. The window wasn’t an option, you don’t trust yourself to open it fast enough, and his apartment was on the seventh floor, what then? Your palms are sweaty and your mouth has gone dry, dread and sheer terror digging an ever-deepening pit in your gut. “I didn’t- I never meant for you to see that.” He says, which is probably not the right thing to say. Definitely not the right thing. “I never wanted to hurt you.”

“Let’s go to the living room,” He says after a more than uncomfortable silence, unsure of if he should step forward or back. You’re like a caged animal, he doesn’t want you lashing out. “Please, (Y/N),” Floch hates the way you’re looking at him, like he’s about to pounce on you and rip into you. You don’t say anything at first, trying to steady your breathing. Eventually, you nod, clenching your teeth and averting your gaze. “Okay.” Play along with this for now until you have the chance to get out.

You tread back to the open living room with Floch. It’s much less constricting, but you don’t feel any less closed in. You trail behind him like a scared animal, eyes focused on his back and betting on the chance that he’ll be distracted long enough for you to get through the front door. He leads you back to the couch, going to sit next to you as you try to get comfortable.

A small ding is heard from the kitchen, a gift from the heavens above. “Oh, they’re ready.” Floch quickly goes over to the oven, turns the dial down and gets an oven mitt. It was some escape from the stressful situation you’ve thrust him into. It’s only prolonging what feels like your doom. The front door is left unattended, surely you can unlock it fast enough and get out. Maybe scream, surely someone will help. Now’s your chance, and you aren’t going to pass it up.

You barely made it three paces before Floch grabbed you, a hand over your mouth and his arm wrapped tight around you. You couldn’t get a scream out, and biting at the flesh of his palm did nothing. The struggle went on, your elbow slamming into Floch’s torso. He let out a pained noise but recovered quickly. Your fingers brushed against the doorknob before being thrown on the floor. Floch grabbed you to keep you from getting back up or trying to crawl away. You broke your fall with your arms, which now hurt. They’d probably be bruised later, but it didn’t seem to be anything bad. The end result of your struggle was Floch sat against the wall with you tucked between his legs, an arm caging you in and the palm of his hand returning to your mouth to muffle you.

“You said you’d let me explain.” He says in your ear, low and irritated. You’re still thrashing against him, getting increasingly frustrated as your vision blurs. Floch was stronger than you, you’d never noticed it beneath his long-sleeved shirts or jackets, but his arms were thick with muscle. He’s well built, something you never really noticed before. Floch could be really strong when he wanted to be.

As much as Floch hates to admit it, your struggling against him and your tears wetting his hand was getting him hard. A shaky breath bordering on a moan escapes him and it’s that makes you still in his arms. Floch keeps his hand over your mouth, adrenaline still pumping through him. He tries to focus on you, the body spray you used before coming here, the way your hair is parted. This is wrong, incredibly wrong. Everything about this is wrong, but he’s determined to make it right.

“It’s my fault,” For being so careless to leave it out like that “I’m- I’m sorry,” Floch says, forcing the words out of his constricting throat. Surely there’s a way for him to salvage this. He will salvage this, whatever it takes. “You aren’t going to scream, are you?” He says in your ear. You shake your head, fear constricting your very being. Floch wouldn’t do anything to hurt you, right? Slowly and cautiously, he removes his hand from your mouth. It lingers, just an inch or two, in case he needs to silence you again.

A knock resounds from the other side of the apartment door, probably one of his neighbors. It makes you both freeze up, Floch tightening his grip on you.

“Everything all right in there?” An older mans voice comes from the opposite side of the door. He must have heard the scuffle you two were in.

You both stiffen up, two pairs of wide eyes staring at the door. Floch slaps his hand over your mouth before you can scream, pressing you further against him to try and keep you quiet. “Not a fucking word.” He hisses into your ear, ensuring you would stay quiet before giving his attention to the pesky neighbor outside. “Yeah! Everything’s fine!”. Floch calls back, praying the man leaves. “It sounded like something heavy fell, you okay?” The voice calls back. A grimace decorates Floch’s face and he bites his lip. Damn helpful neighbors. “It’s fine, I just dropped something!” He digs his nails into your flesh, on your face, and through your sweater.

Floch is your friend, he wouldn’t hurt you. You try to repeat that in your head, knowing how obviously wrong that is. He’s already hurt you, he will continue if you let him. Your elbow strikes Floch where you can again, with all the strength you have (not a lot after being thrown on the ground), but he steels himself and only squeezes you further against him.

“Well, alright,” The man says, adding that if something were to occur,, Floch should come ask for help. Floch gave a forced ‘thanks’, listening to the mans footsteps fade and hearing him walk back into his own apartment. He loosens the hold he has on you, his hand dropping from your mouth. After a beat of silence, Floch decides to speak up again. “We can talk about everything, I’ll explain it to you,”

“Floch, please, I want to go home. Just let me go home.” You say, and you’re so quiet that Floch almost doesn’t hear you. “You need to stay,” Floch knows whatever he has to say to you is going to take longer than what tonight will allow. Besides, he can’t let you go until you’ve forgiven him and he knows you won’t make a fuss over this later. “We can talk about it after the movie.” He says this while nuzzling your hair with renewed confidence.

You’ve always been so understanding before, and always stood up for him, Floch is sure he can convince you to give him the benefit of doubt this time too.

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