Disclaimer!: 18+ is advised. Multiple heavy topics. Lightly edited.

thirteen, tatakae

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...

Frustrated tears of humiliation stream down your cheeks as you sniff and tuck your pillow closer to you, thoughts of him and what transpired merely an hour or so ago plaguing your mind.

You wished for sleep to take hold of you and plunge you deep into its darkness for the rest of eternity. But each time you tried to sleep, his image and actions would disturb you. And infuriatingly,...

Yours too.

What the fuck was wrong with you? What is wrong with you? To think that you might've liked...what he did... it's disgusting.

You didn't know what to expect when he said "punishment" but that... that was far from what you thought would happen.

You twist your eyes shut and bury your face in your pillow, shaking your head as you stew over what happened. You knew calling the cops would've ended up biting you in the ass at some point. You just hoped it wouldn't have been so soon.

**An hour and a half earlier**

Your jaw clenches, taking notice that he doesn't sound the least bit intimidated by you or the knife in your hands. After a second, he emerges from the shadows at the top of your staircase, one hand tucked into his black dress pants pocket, the other holding a phone up to his ear. The sound of his shoes clicking softly against the steps feels like he's competing with the beat of your troubled heart.

Your eyes trail to the few buttons undone and your brows furrow at what seems to be a mysterious tattoo peeking from beneath his black shirt. You don't let your eyes linger for long, instead clutching your knife even tighter and slowly itching backward, closer to the door.

Once he's off the bottom of the stairs, he says, phone still in hand, "Now what?" The ever-growing smirk on his face taunts you, paying you back for earlier. Or at least that's how you take it.

You suck in a small breath and try to ignore the fear welling up inside you at the proximity. And the fact that he just casually walked down your stairs. Despite your face being a few shades lighter than usual, you try to strengthen your voice as you say, "Well, ... it would be nice if you just left me alone and got out... but then we wouldn't have much of a story, ... would we?"

You swallow, eyes never leaving his form. He chuckles and hangs up the phone, suddenly walking further into the room, making you shuffle back. He stops by the stand next to your couch and sits it there. He glances up at you with a smirk.

"No," He huffs slightly, letting out a small chuckle. "Our story is just beginning, baby."

Obviously, that isn't the response you were hoping for, but you knew better. "Mm, unless I get bored and stop writing."

He grins, clearly loving the fact that you're playing along. He turns, his broad build facing you again after setting the phone down. "Funny you think you're the author. That you're... in charge of this little plot."

You scowl. "You're in... my house."

He raises a brow but seems to decide not to respond to that statement directly. He gestures to your knife. "So... author... the question remains, ... now... what?"

"Get out... or-"

"Or what?" He cuts you off, daring you to try and threaten him. "You'll kill me? Is that what you plan to do with the knife?"

You swallow, feeling utterly helpless. You want to cry but... you won't. You swear you won't. "...If I have to."

He gives you a deadpan look and you have no clue how to react to that so you look to the side anxiously and shift, but you don't dare let go of your only weapon. "I hate to break it to you, baby, but... you clearly don't know the first thing about self-defense."

"Says who??" You blurt, but you're afraid to hear his answer.

"How about this?" He starts, rolling back his shoulders as if getting comfortable. "You sit right over here and take what I'm here to give you. It won't be so bad if you listen." He gestures over to the couch.

Your scowl deepens and you want to roll your eyes. Somewhere along the line you decide running outside is your best bet so you decide to shift closer to the door discreetly. "...No."

"No? So you're opting for a harder punishment then?" He taunts.

"I don't understand," Your resolve nearly breaks at the mention of a punishment. Your nightmare coming to light. He raises a brow in question, looking at you as if wondering what he hasn't already made perfectly clear to you. "Why are you even doing this?"

"You know why," He responds and it only seems to break you more.

"I don't!"

"What don't you know, love?" He blinks, looking at you expectantly.

You want to fight so hard, but you're just so afraid of him right now, you don't even know how to go about it. "Why me? I don't know you, you don't know me, I never did a damn thing to you."

"Why you?" He laughs. "Because no one else is so perfect. So... angelic. Yet, ... that'll change soon." He adds.

"What?? That- That doesn't answer anything.." You wanted to scream. Rip your hair out. Anything. Because anything else would give you something to grasp. He gave you nothing.

"Oh, you're so dense, aren't you, baby?" He takes a few large steps closer all of a sudden. "So helpless?"

You yelp despite yourself, not yet ready to face him. You have too many questions. You don't want to die. Not fucking yet. "N-No!" You bring the knife out in front of you, in hopes it would slow him down or make him back off.

"No?" His brows furrow mockingly. "Then how come you can't see-"

He was far too close now. Too close for you to handle. This was it. This was your fight-or-flight moment. Neither of which you knew the outcome. You just hoped that what you chose would let you live to see another day.

You just hoped you wouldn't regret it. Levi often reminds you of this... affirmation. Choose as if it's life or death and hope you won't regret it. Or... that's basically what you took from it.

Man, the only thing going through your mind right now is the people in your life. And hope... that you'll see them again.

Tears well in your eyes but a new determination also wells in you.

Without thinking you twist around and throw your door open as quickly as you can, running off of your porch and down the steps. He couldn't even finish his sentence before you were well on your way down the path.

It was so cold... so dark, you could hardly see a thing: nothing but your breath, shadows, and outlines.

"Oh, plot twist," You hear him call out but it only makes you run faster. He sounds... close. You continue, stumbling over your feet as you struggle to see where you're stepping. You're panting by the time you think you're halfway out of your driveway. In the back of your mind, part of you thinks you should've tried your luck at driving.

But you can't think of that right now.

You look back instinctively and pray... he's not close... that you can get away.

And... luck was on your side. For once.

When you look back, he's nowhere to be seen. There are not too many places a person can hide that quickly and you're sure you would've seen a big, towering Titan like himself if he was nearby.

But you also know too much about horror movies to completely let that fool you. You quickly look back in front of you, searching as thoroughly as you can in the dark, your eyes nearly popping out of its skull as you do so.

But nobody's there.

You don't stop running. You know you can't go back. He'll just be hiding somewhere in your house again and... you can't have that.

Suddenly, you remember the phone in your hand and slow down a bit as you cut it on and try to hit the Emergency Call icon to call for help. For some reason, you end up tapping it like ten times but to no avail.

You audibly whine, a really bad feeling sinking into the pit of your stomach. Disgusted by the photo of you as the wallpaper, you quickly swipe to unlock the phone, but your luck must've fucking ran out because there's a pin put in place.

You nearly trip over something on the ground. That's what you get for keeping your eyes on the phone for so long.

"Damn," you grunt. You'll end up killing yourself before he ever could. You adjust the knife in your hand. That would've been bad if you fell.

Your stamina's running low, but adrenalin keeps you moving. Your land is so vast, that you're not even out of your driveway yet.

Why couldn't you simply settle for a house closer to civilization? Now if you get brutally murdered, no one will hear you scream. No one would find out right away. Save for Jean. Maybe Levi. If you're lucky.

And you're really not.

You look back again just to give yourself comfort that he's not too close, but much to your utter terror he's...

Right here.

You don't even have time to scream because he grabs you and your arm, before you can stab him in the face, and puts a hand over your mouth. Tears stream down your face immediately as you cry.

"Shh, shh, shh," He hushes you and pulls you closer to him, whispering, "Let's take this away." He grabs the knife and tosses it somewhere. Which he is such a dick for.

Now you probably won't be able to use it again if you ever get out of this situation.

You struggle, fighting against him as hard as you can in his iron, ...steel, whatever the fuck, grip. You fight back so much, he can't help but grin. Like he gets off on it or something. He lifts you effortlessly and tosses you over his shoulder, stalking back down the long path and to your house.

The place you just tired yourself out, running from.

"Did you really think you could get away from me?" He laughs. "Or maybe... you're just into being caught. I can dig that. I love to chase. And let me tell you, baby, I love watching you fight. Turns me on so damn much." He admits.

You cry at the sound of that, looking around frantically. You must've dropped the phone a while ago. Not that it matters. But now you have fucking nothing. No hope at all.

"Awe," He coos, walking inside the house and causing you to shiver violently from both the sudden warmth and the fear that's engulfing you like a blanket and suffocating you just the same.

He kicks the door closed behind him, a thump sounding somewhere else in the house simultaneously, causing you to flinch. Then suddenly you're being adjusted in his hold as he slips you forward, eliciting a gasp from you. He spreads your legs and wraps them around his waist.

This entire time you've been scared and silent, but now you say, "Please... just let me go," your lip trembles as you stumble over your words. "I'll... I won't call the cops again, I..sw-swear."

"Oh, baby,... you're bargaining for something in return that I just can't give you. So, ... so be it. Call the cops all you want. I'm not letting you go," He tucks your hair behind your ear. "You'll still be punished. Based on principle. But... honestly, if the chase is what I get when you do bad things... I really don't fucking care what you do."

He walks you over to the couch and lays you down. At this position, he lowers himself and kisses your neck, his hair tickling you. You shiver again from the overwhelming sensation and push him away.

"Stop it...!" You tell him, but it doesn't deter him in the slightest. He smiles and lifts you again, tossing you over his lap.

"But you will learn... to love this just as much as I," he says. "I know a part of you already does. But soon you'll realize just how much fun you can have with us and I know that day will be coming soon enough. We both have to be patient, don't we?"

You, despite knowing this won't work, push against his hold anyway and he laughs. "That's it. Keep fighting, baby," he pulls your pants down just below your ass and you feel the scalding heat to your cheeks before anything actually happens.

What the fuck... was he doing?

With your panties still on, he delivers one harsh slap to your ass that makes you jolt forward and yelp. "Mhm, you feel that?" He teases, rubbing his hand over the red that's already forming. He doesn't wait for long and sends you another one just as harsh as before.

Your toes curl and you lift a foot before letting it fall back down to the couch with a thud. A sound of pain leaves your lips, but something else in you is swirling so terribly... deliciously... at the feeling he's giving you.

You don't know what to do with it, so you move a bunch during this. You mutter "stop" or "please" a couple of times but... you both know... you don't want him to. You're hardly trying to fight by the time he spanks you for the sixth time.

He slaps you again, and this time...

Despite yourself, this time... you let out a moan. Pleasure, not pain. Not just pain at least.

You sound like a damn masochist or something but... this feeling... is far better than whatever feelings you've been feeling since... since then.

You slap a hand over your mouth at the sound you produce. You don't even want to know the look on his face because you're sure he heard that.

"See?" He says from above you. "You're already starting to understand. You're starting to get why I'm here. I think this should answer a lot of the questions you have. But I'm sure the next thing you're going to start wondering is, ... do you like this?"

You don't say anything, so he leans over you, closer to your ear. "The answer is... 'yes', you do, baby," with his chest somewhat pressed into your back and his mouth pressed against your ear, he brings his hand down again and spanks you one more time.

You yelp into your hand, the sound morphing into something else and you hate yourself for it. For giving him exactly what he wants.

At this point, you realize the lack of fighting from you during this. And it makes your cheeks redden, probably neck and neck with the ones your ass carries.

"Stand up," he instructs and helps you on your feet. You glare down at him, but pretty soon you avert your gaze altogether. He wraps his arms around you, causing you to be super close to him. He pulls your pants up and pulls your chin so that you're looking at him again.

He caresses your cheek and tucks yet another strand of hair behind your ear. "I'll be seeing you again soon." He stands up and you step back a bit, glaring up at him as he closes the gap. "It would be in everyone's best interest if you kept quiet, but personally... I hope you do something that'll make me see you again sooner," He winks.

He leaves you with yourself after that. And you have no clue what to do with all of this.

ARMIN'S POV

I rest my hand on the side of my face, my pointer finger impatiently tapping my temple as I squint my eyes at Eren.

"What?" He asks, mouth full of the last bite of the cheeseburger we ordered beforehand. I roll my eyes. He loves to act coy.

"Next time, try to keep things inside the house," I emphasize, glancing out the window of my car and up at our Angel's house.

"See, I knew you were getting antsy. That thump meant something," He says, wiping his mouth with a brown napkin. "But hey, you saw all the good stuff. Relax." He pulls out his phone from his pocket with his right hand, brows furrowing as he looks at whatever is displayed on the screen.

I have a good guess what it is, so I ask, "Is she still crying?" He nods once, silently, and I sigh. "Were you too rough with her?"

"I was rough enough," He side-glares me. "She didn't seem so broken up about it when I was doing it. She liked it. That's probably why she's crying."

"She liked it? And she's crying about it? How the hell does that make sense?" I question, stretching my arm as I place my palm on the steering wheel.

"Trust me. I know women. I know her. She's not crying 'cause she hated it, she's crying right now 'cause she hates that she likes it," He says as if it's obvious and he needs to break it down for me. I roll my eyes again.

"Oh, really? And what happened outside? How bad did you scare her? The plan doesn't call for-"

"Would you relax? Your plan is going fine, shut up, you obsessive freak," He dismisses me, rubbing a hand down his mouth.

"...Insulting me is unnecessary." With that, I glance at her house one more time and drive away for the night.

Y/N'S POV

You lay in bed, glaring up at your ceiling, recalling today's events.

Well, ... you're alive. But things still don't feel right. Kruger is still dangerous. It's not like you know the guy.

You rub your face. It sounds like you're trying to convince yourself. You don't think you're going back to sleep tonight so you get up and go to your bathroom. You desperately need a shower. You sniff, rubbing your cold arms as if to comfort yourself, and walk to your bathroom.

You strip quickly once the door is shut and you look at yourself in the mirror. Your eyes are red and puffy from all the crying. It's not just the simple fact that you must be insane for... liking what Kruger (a psychotic crazy person) did to you... but...

You look away from the mirror, not being able to handle your cloudy gaze. Clouds are a good description for them. Heavy clouds to be exact. Any heavier and another rush of tears will overflow and you'll be a bigger mess than you already are.

You hate yourself for liking it.

Jean says... Marco... watches over you...

And what's usually a comforting thought... is... too much to think about right now.

How dare you like anything when he's dead? How dare you move on from him when he gave you everything? And liking something a creep like Kruger did to you is even worse.

The only thing you see when you look in the mirror is a disgusting bitch who should be the one dead right now... not him. And you're so sorry that that's not the case.

You shake your head. You know your mind is going down a rabbit hole you should stray away from, so you clear your thoughts as best you can and cut on the water. Once it's warm enough, you step inside and sigh softly at the feeling of the water beating down your back.

Sometimes the line just gets a little blurry. But it helps to remember Jean and that if you were to commit... such a heinous act such as taking your life away... or falling further into depression after everything... that'd you'd break his heart.

And that's not what you want. At all.

Your mind, once again, takes you back to Kruger and all that happened.

Everything he did.

Everything he... said...

After a moment of thought, you mutter... "'Us?'"

LilReaper_

Originally written 08.26-28.24

Published 08.28.24

Total words; 3313

Quiet a few things to remember in this chapter! What did you think?