#also before anyone gives me shit I genuinely do not care that my eyebrows look like that I am trying something | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

miekasa · 4 years ago

Text

NICE.

+ pairings: eren yeager + (fem) reader

+ genres: rich kid au, college au, friends to lovers au, fluff, light-ish angst, smut/nsfw content (everybody gets a piece)!

+ warnings: mentions of depression/anxiety, mentions and use of drugs and alcohol, some of the smut happens under the influence so be cautious if that’s something you don’t like, i swear this is all more idiots in love than angst tho i just wanna disclose everything fairly

+ notes: this is alternatively titled super rich kids and you can probably figure out why. some of this is based off of real life, some of it is straight out of gossip girl and i challenge you to separate the facts from the fiction :’) anyways, i hope we all remember the lyrics to in my feelings

+ more notes: one quick reference for ages in this fic—all the vets are older but not by that much, think various stages of grad school. armin, connie, sasha, annie, and bertholdt are all college sophomores. eren, the reader, and pretty much everybody else are college seniors, so they’re about a year or two older. also here is a playlist for your reading pleasures, shoutout to ryn for letting me mooch of their spotify account :’)

+ word count: 19k. i’m sorry.

+ summary: fuck you, fuck you, you’re cool, fuck you.; or the story of notorious rich kid and self-proclaimed bad boy eren yeager, and his not so goody two-shoes best friend.

“So you’re saying that you don’t love me? That you’re not riding? That you’ll actually leave from beside me?”

“I’m saying that it’s ass o’clock in the morning and I’m not driving in the rain to Brooklyn to pick your sorry ass up.”

“But… but I want you, and I need you, and I’m down for you.”

You check the time on your phone screen and groan. 3:57am. Far too early to be dealing with the likes of Eren Jaeger. “Just get an Uber or something. I don’t know what you and your idiot friends were up to this time, but I don’t want any part of it.”

“First, they’re our idiot friends. Second, I don’t think they let you take Ubers from jail, and even if they did, it’s, like, four in the morning, so I don’t think there are any Ubers driving around, so could you pretty please come pick me up? I promise I’ll make it up to—”

“From where?” you cut him off, slowly sitting upright in your bed. You hold your phone closer to your ear, ready to listen again; because, certainly, you must have misheard him the first time. You wait, but the line is silent, save for Eren’s awkward chuckling. “Eren Asher Jaeger, tell me that that was another stupid lyric from that stupid song, and that you are not in prison right now.”

Eren makes a sad attempt at laughing. “Technically, it’s a holding cell, not really prison… and I would leave, but they suspended my license for a month, and Min can’t drive yet, so we kind of need you,” he explains, “Uh, no pun intended.”

“Min?” you pull your eyebrows together at the mention of the younger’s name, “Is Armin with you?”

“Uh, yeah.”

With a frown and a heavy sigh, you push yourself out of bed, wedging your phone between your shoulder and your ear as you grab the nearest pair of sweatpants.

“Why did you get him caught up in whatever stupid shit you were doing tonight?” you complain, scanning your dark bedroom for a shirt to wear, “Erwin’s going to castrate you when he finds out.”

You curse as you stub your toe against the edge of your bed on your way out of the room. Given the time, weather, and the fact that you have several exams to start studying for, hanging up and leaving Eren in the middle of god knows where Brooklyn doesn’t seem like such a bad idea, but you couldn’t go back to sleep knowing that Armin would have to suffer with him.

“Relax,” Eren breathes in a tone all too nonchalant for the situation at hand, “He didn’t get charged with anything, and nothing’s going on his record.”

“You don’t know that,” you retort, sliding your raincoat over your free arm, as you paddle down the stairs of your apartment, “The NYPD suck.”

“True,” he hums, “But I paid off the cop, so it’ll be fine.”

You pause in your steps, but really, you shouldn’t be surprised. “Of course you did,” you mumble, moving again and grabbing your car keys off of the kitchen island.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he questions. His tone is actually genuine and it tempts you to roll your eyes.

“What it always means, Eren,” you sigh, stepping into the elevator, “I’ll be there in thirty minutes.”

“Thank you, baby. I love you.”

“Eren?”

“Yeah?”

“Get off my line.”

He doesn’t have time to throw in another pitiful “I love you” before the line goes dead and he’s met with static silence. He hangs up the station telephone with a silent chuckle, turning around to face Armin and Officer Hannes.

“Someone’s coming to pick us up,” he says, trying to focus on Armin’s sigh of relief and not the warmth creeping up his neck and into his cheeks, “I’ll, uh, call a tow for the car in the morning.”

The cop, too tired to care, only shrugs, and pays them no further attention. He hands Eren a plastic bag with his car keys and newly suspended license, escorts him back into the cell, and returns to his desk. Eren gives Hannes the finger while his back is turned.

Beside him, Armin is still quivering; bouncing his leg up and down, fiddling with his fingers, gnawing on his bottom lip. Eren frowns, a heavy wave of guilt washing over him as he takes in the younger’s anxiety ridden state. It wasn’t fair that Armin could have potentially suffered legal consequences because of his stupidity.

Eren’s lucky that Hannes was sleazy enough to accept his bribe and let him off with minimal punishment. With that they were doing, things could have ended up far worse for the both of them tonight.

“I’m sorry, man,” he apologizes, hands stuffed in his front pockets, “About tonight, I mean. We—I shouldn’t have done that, not with you there.”

Armin looks up at him with sparkling, doe eyes and Eren wants to punch himself in the gut for making him go through all of this, even if it didn’t amount to an actual arrest. “You couldn’t have known this was going to happen.”

“I could have prevented it,” he says. Because it’s what you would have said, too.

“It’s not your fault, I wanted to come, remember?” Armin tells him, redirecting his gaze to the grey floor of the precinct cell. He takes a deep breath, almost calming down completely when a sudden thought reignites his nervous ticks, “You… they’re not gonna tell my parents, right?”

“No, no—of course not.”

Armin was legally an adult; he, nor Eren, nor the police had to tell his parents anything. Sure, Hannes could rat them out, but honestly that sounded like way more work than he was cut out for; not to mention he’d be bound to reveal that he let them off easy for a couple thousand bucks.

Armin nods, “And… that wasn’t Erwin on the phone, right?”

“Are you kidding me? He’d murder me on the spot,” Eren says. He pauses before tacking on, “I, uh… I called (_____).”

“Oh,” the younger gapes, “She’ll kill you, too.”

“Yeah,” Eren sighs, scratching the back of his neck in nervous anticipation, “Trust me, I know.”

“You have your access card on you, right, Armin?” you ask. He nods sheepishly, hand on the car door handle.

“Thanks again for coming to get us,” he says meekly, “I’m sorry about waking you up and everything.”

You offer him a warm smile through the rear view mirror, “Don’t worry about it, I’m just glad you’re safe. Text me when you get up tomorrow, okay? We can get brunch, my treat.”

His face lights up at the prospect of free food, and he nods once more, enthusiastically, but his expression falls again when he speaks, “Okay, and I’ll, um, pay you back for the tickets and stuff as soon as I can—”

“It’s fine, really, don’t worry about it,” you repeat.

“It was almost three thou—”

“You forget who you’re friends with,” you cut him off with a smile, “Don’t worry about it, okay? It wasn’t your fault.”

Armin’s eyes dart to Eren quickly, before clearing his throat, a light pink tint to his cheeks. You know that the prospect of money can be a sensitive subject for Armin, one easily triggered by his very environment, but this wasn’t negotiable on your end. You know that Armin doesn’t like the feeling of owing anyone anything, but he knows he won’t get you to budge; so, he quietly nods, appreciative of your generosity, before bidding you and Eren a final goodnight and sprinting towards the dorm. Once you see that he’s safely inside, you wave one last time, and wait for the door to shut behind him.

Slowly, Eren turns to the driver’s seat to look at you. You were eerily calm when you came to pick him and Armin up from the station. You didn’t yell, cuss, or punch him in the face like he expected. You politely talked to the officer, thanked him for his service, paid their fees, and up until now, you’ve shown no signs of being angry with him at all.

The two of you drive back to your shared apartment in complete silence, Eren too confused, and borderline scared, of initiating a conversation. He wonders if you’re too tired, or if you really don’t give a damn anymore, but when you pull into the underground lot of your building and put the car in park, he finds out the silence was simply the calm before the storm.

You take your hand off of the gear shift and turn towards him. It’s a quiet stare down for nearly a full minute before you break the mime act with a slap to his thigh.

“Drag racing? Are you out of your fucking mind? Of all the stupid shit you’ve done—and you’ve done a lot of stupid shit—this has got to take the cake. Just what the actual fuck were you thinking?”

“Ouch!” he inhales sharply, rubbing over where you’d hit him, “We were just having fun! Then these other guys showed up and started talking shit so—”

“Having fun?” you echo, “You couldn’t think of anything fun to do that’s not illegal in every borough of New York City?”

Eren feels his cheek flush, but he only huffs with the illusion of disinterest, “I don’t know why you’re freaking out so bad. I’m a good driver, it was those other squids that got us into shit, I’m telling you. They showed up looking for a fight, then ran like a bunch of pussies when the cops came.”

You exhale slowly, shaking your head in disbelief. You seem to have no other words to say to him, choosing to step out of the car and slam the door behind you. Eren quickly follows, slamming his door equally as hard, and hot on your trail as you march towards the elevator.

“(_____), come on, enough with the silent treatment,” he whines when you stick yourself in a corner of the elevator after pushing the button to the penthouse, “I told you I didn’t start shit, Armin and I got ratted on.”

“I couldn’t give a rat’s ass about whether or not they started it, Eren. You’re still the problem here.”

“Me? How am I the problem?” he pulls back, eyebrows drawn together in genuine confusion, “I just told you I didn’t do shit.”

You scoff, crossing your arms and shifting your left leg, “I’m not doing this with you right now.”

“Doing what with me?” he presses, tone growing icy.

“This, Eren!” you reiterate, “I’m too tired to hear your bullshit right now.”

The elevator dings and opens into your apartment. You push past him, continuing your deliberate strides through the living area, and to the stairs, but Eren catches you with a hand on your wrist before you can go any further.

“Will you fucking stop that,” he growls, “If you’ve got something to say, then stop running away from me, and just say it.”

“Funny,” you sneer, pulling your wrist away from him and settling both your feet on the bottom step, “You’re one to talk about running away from things.”

He takes a step back, standing just a notch below you, perfectly frozen in place. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means your little drag racing episode was not only dangerous and immature, it was you running away from your problems like a spoiled child, yet again.”

Eren’s features narrow at your accusations; eyes fading into hooded slits, lips curving downwards, and voice bobbing low, “I’m not running away from anything.”

“Oh, please, Eren,” you roll your eyes, arms retreating to their crossed position in front of your chest, “Cut the bullshit.”

“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.” But he bets that even in the dim lighting of the apartment, you can see the tips of his ears growing red, just like they always do when he’s lying.

“Oh, really?” you ask, eyes widening in mock surprise, “You don’t think I don’t know this whole thing has something to do with the fact that your mom came home on Friday?”

Another pause. “Who told you that?” He asks, but it comes out more like a statement.

“Nobody had to,” you snap, “Jean said he caught you with a sack of coke over the weekend, and I knew something was up.”

“It wasn’t mine, I was—”

“I said cut the shit, Eren. If I went up into your room right now I bet your ass I’d find more than enough of it in a shoebox somewhere.”

He retreats, almost bashful, but unapologetic all the same. “Fine, whatever, I did a few lines. Big deal.”

“The big deal is that you think this is fucking normal, and now you’ve upgraded from coke to getting yourself arrested! It’d be one thing if you were acting like a misfit on your own, but to drag Armin into it because you—”

“Drag him into it?” he echoes with the snare of sarcasm dripping from each syllable, “You talk about Armin like he’s six. I don’t know why you think he’s some helpless little baby, but you have no goddamn responsibility over him. He’s not your fucking charity case.”

“I never fucking said he’s my charity case—don’t you ever fucking say that,” you say, “Having some basic respect and concern for my friends isn’t charity.”

“Wake the fuck up! You baby Armin when he’s a grown ass man. I didn’t force him into the fucking car to get sympathy points from you.”

“Grown? Armin is barely nineteen, disowned by his parents, is on a full fucking ride to an insanely expensive university, and you got him arrested tonight! Do you know what could happen if NYU found out? They could fucking kick him out, take his scholarship away—and then what, huh? Or were you just gonna buy off the headmaster, too?”

“You’re acting like I fucking planned for it!”

He’s screaming now, voice bellowing throughout the apartment, face red—and he doesn’t mean to, he doesn’t mean it at all; but it’s late, and he’s tired, and those shouldn’t be excuses, but he’s too prideful to back down.

“Of course you didn’t! You didn’t plan for anything, you were just being a reckless, irresponsible asshole like always,” you tell him, too blind-sighted by anger and the need to chide him that you miss the teary undertones in his words.

“And what’s it matter to you?”

“It fucking matters to me when you call at some godforsaken hour asking me to pick you up from prison!”

He takes a step forward, right leg elevated by the same step that both your feet rest on. “Well, what else am I supposed to fucking do!” He shouts even though he’s mere inches from your face, “Tell me just what the fuck I’m supposed to do instead!”

“You’re supposed to act like an adult and fucking talk to someone!”

“Who the hell am I supposed to talk to, huh?” he presses, taking a step forward and forcing you to retreat backwards, and up a step, “My mother who’s never home or her bastard boyfriend?”—another step forward for him, another step backwards for you—“The step-brother I can’t get in contact with?”—one step forward; one step backwards—“Or maybe the dad I never had, right?”

“Me, Eren!” you yell back with equal vigor, throwing your hands up at your sides, and planting your feet firmly. “Armin, Mikasa, Jean—anyone! You have people who fucking care about you! Stop treating us like correction officers, we’re your fucking friends!”

There’s silence for a while, just you and Eren staring at each other, heavy breathing, waiting for the other to make the next move. He opens his mouth, but when he tries to speak, his resolve washes away, his throat tightens and the words get sucked back in.

It would be easy to keep yelling, screaming, blaming you for blowing up on him. He used to think the scolding he got from you after pulling some stupid stunt was the worst part; but now, he thinks it might be his favorite part. He hates to hear you scream, and it hurts to see you cry, but if you’re yelling, you’re angry that he hurt himself; you care that he’s okay.

“I—” he stutters, words quiet and broken, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for it to get like this tonight, it was an accident I—”

“You never mean for any of it to happen, yet it always does,” you interrupt, voice soft yet strained, “I know you have your own shit to deal with, but so does everybody else.”

“(_____), please, you’re right, okay? I should have said something before,” he admits, mouth small as he voices his confessions, “I should have talked to you or one of the boys, but I—I don’t know what else you want me to say.”

He’s groveling now. Mouth in pout, eyes wide, voice small, and honestly, he thinks he might cry. At this point he doesn’t care if he does.

“I want you to mean it,” you finally say, and when he looks up, he hates the look he sees in your eyes. It’s something between sad and hurt and empty and it’s awful. Someone like you shouldn’t feel that way. He shouldn’t make you feel that way.

“I—”

“When you’re ready to tell me exactly what’s going on with you—what’s happening that made you think going to jail would be better than facing your issues—I’ll be here to talk,” you continue, eyes watering, “But until then, goodnight, Eren.”

Eren winces when you turn around and ascend up the remaining stairs. He flirts with the idea of following you, going to your room to finish talking, but you’re probably angry enough to have it locked. His room is up there, too, but he opts for part of the sectional, laying down with the palms of his hands kneading against his closed eyelids.

For as long as he can remember, you’ve been there for him. Your friendship, at times, was like a game of tag—Eren always on the run with you loyally chasing after him; he’d always run amuck, and you’d always be there to catch him in the act. Now, it’s five in the morning, there’s no more yelling, no more chasing, no more racing, but he’s still running.

The following morning, you take Armin out to brunch, as promised. Jean tags along too, something about hanging out with the two of you being infinitely more entertaining than his genetics lecture. It doesn’t seem like Jean knows anything about Armin and Eren’s late night antics, so you don’t bring it up yourself.

Oblivious, Jean chats your ears off as if nothing is awry. Whether he knows it or not, he does a great job of distracting Armin from his own thoughts. They both eat to their heart’s content when you remind them you’ll foot the bill; and you don’t bat an eye when Jean convinces Armin to order his third round of pancakes. He deserves it.

Afterwards, Jean convinces the three of you to go window shopping with him in SoHo, claiming that he needed inspiration for his latest fashion assignment (you don’t question why he’s taking a fashion class as a biology major, but you suspect it has something to do with Mikasa). Window shopping soon turns into actual shopping, so almost completely unprompted, and with little effort on his part, Armin gets a few pieces of clothing on your behalf, while you try to ignore Eren’s words itching at the back of your mind.

Armin’s not a baby, but he certainly is a kid with a rough past and rough relationship with his parents at a time in his life where he arguably needs them the most. A little extra support from his friends wouldn’t harm him.

It’s nearing six when the three of you are wedged in a small booth inside a café, indulging in overpriced hot chocolate. Three sips into his second cup, Jean excuses himself to the bathroom, leaving you sitting across from Armin.

“You know, you don’t have to keep buying me stuff to make up for Eren,” Armin says, a small smile playing on his lips.

“I’m not trying to make up for him,” you sputter, careful not to spill your drink over your lap, “You had a rough night. Just accept my gifts, don’t be a brat.”

“I do accept them. Erwin’s been eyeing that Off White sweater for, like, three weeks now. He’s gonna have a hissy fit when he sees me wearing it.” You chuckle, and he continues, “But you know, as much I love spending time with you, you can’t use me to avoid Eren forever.”

“I’m not avoiding him,” you frown.

“You said you were going to take us to brunch, and then spent the whole day with us.”

“Funny, I recall you saying something about how much you love my company about thirty seconds ago.”

“He’s called you at least ten times today.”

“I was spending the day with my favorite NYU student… and Jean,” you bat your lashes, “I see you maybe once a week. I live with Eren, I have to see him every day.”

Armin calls your name with a pout, “He’s sorry, you know.”

“Not sorry enough,” you mumble. Armin opens his mouth to say something again, but then Jean’s sliding back into the booth, chatting about how he’s finally come up with the perfect anniversary date for Mikasa.

Armin doesn’t notice your sigh of relief, but he does take note of the way you wipe away your notifications when a text rings through. If Eren could spend his days running away from his problems, then you could, too.

Despite being arguably the greediest of you all, Jean loves company, so he doesn’t hesitate to say yes when you ask to crash at his place after your shopping escapades. You expect to be welcomed with sounds of screaming, laughter, and loud music, but to your surprise his apartment is completely silent upon your entering.

“Bertholdt has class and Marco has a meeting,” he prompts, as if he could read your thoughts. He shimmies his coat off his shoulders and tosses it over the bar in the foyer.

Their apartment has the same amount of rooms as yours and Eren’s, but is all stretched along a single floor. It’s more of a maze, really, with intricate turns, and hallways, that all more or less open up into the expanse of the foyer and bar. Their living room is your favorite part. A dark, brown leather sectional wraps around the back three walls and an oversized flatscreen encased in an ebony frame takes center stage. A collection of vinyl records litters the walls above the couch; each of the boys contributing their favorite discs as décor.

“If he has class, shouldn’t you have class?” you question, fingers dragging over the ridges of the closest record.

“I’ve had class all day, but that doesn’t mean I go,” Jean shrugs, walking up behind you and taking your jacket off your shoulders and your bag from your hand, “Besides, Bertholdt will probably cut half-way to go see Reiner, if he can even stay awake that long. Going with him is just as productive as staying home.”

“You’re all a mess,” you scoff, turning around as a cheesy grin grows on Jean’s lips. His smile is infectious, and soon you catch yourself grinning just because.

“You want something to drink?” he offers, throwing your coat over his elbow and tilting his head in the direction of the bar.

“You’re bad at mixing drinks,” you remind him, but follow him anyway.

Jean laughs, not bothering to deny the jab. He doesn’t try his hand at anything mixed or complicated this time; simply offering you a glass of your favorite red, and pouring himself a smaller amount.

He puts the album you were gawking at earlier on the record player, the two of you sinking into the couch as lovely melodies radiate throughout the apartment.

He spends the first hour bitching about how Marco’s supposed to become a CEO in less than a year, yet has the attention span of a squirrel; but the playful lilt in the brunette’s voice, and the begrudging smile on his face lets you know that it’s all love. He gushes about Mikasa for a good half hour, cramming you with stories about his girlfriend’s talent for sewing and fashion. You also learn that Bertholdt’s been busier than usual these days, and Jean suspects it has something to do with a secret lover.

You pinch your eyebrows at his hunch. Bertholdt’s never been one for dating. He’s had many friends with benefits in the past, but they weren’t relationships, nor were they secrets. In fact, you don’t think that he could keep a secret to save his life.

“Why would he be hiding it if he were seeing someone?” you question, swirling your newly refilled glass.

“Dunno,” Jean shrugs, “But it’s sus, I’m telling you. He’s been oddly busy for someone with a 2.3 GPA. Either way, I’ll pry it out of him eventually.”

“You’re so fucking nosey,” you chuckle, watching the mischievous, satisfied grin settle onto his features.

“I kinda think it’s Armin,” Jean says after a while, downing the remaining wine in his cup, while you choke on your own drink.

“Why on Earth do you think if Bertholdt had a secret lover that it’d be Armin?”

“Because he was in love with him for, like, two years in high school,” Jean says, as if the information should be painfully obvious.

“Yeah, and Bert also hooked up with a million different people in high school.”

“That doesn’t mean he wasn’t still in love with Armin.”

“I don’t think Armin’s kissed another human, let alone is in a secret relationship with one.”

“Hm, true. I forget he’s still a virgin.”

“Hey—there’s nothing wrong with Armin being a virgin, leave him be.”

“I know there’s nothing wrong with it,” Jean whines, “But it’s so—he doesn’t have to be. Armin’s cute! And very attractive—dare I even say sexy. He could go outside and get laid right now if he just tried.”

“Stay humble, Jean boy. If I remember correctly, you only started breaking hearts a year ago,” you tut. Jean’s nose goes pink as he shoves you away when you continue, “But, if you’re so concerned with Armin’s virginity, why don’t you go help him out with it.”

“Actually, if I remember correctly, I think that’s more your gig,” he shoots back, a smug smile tugging on his lips. “Not to mention, I’m not trying to get beat up by Annie. Though, I wonder how much longer it’ll take before she finally snaps. Hey, maybe the both of you can tag team him, I’m sure Annie wouldn’t mind, and it might even make Armin less nervous to have you—”

It’s your turn to shove him now, throwing in an extra punch when his head bobs back with laughter. You’re very certain Annie would mind; you would mind if someone inserted themself in your kind of, sort of, not really relationship, and ruined your four years of pining.

“Speaking of lovers,” Jean prompts, once his laughter dies down, bending his knee and turning closer to you. “Why are you and lover boy fighting? Trouble in paradise?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you hum, sipping your drink in between words. Jean’s eyes pinch together. “Marco and I would never fight.”

“My god, will you let your Marco fantasies go already? You’ve already caused him one sexuality crisis,” Jean groans, “You know I mean Eren.”

You sigh, lowering your glass and reaching forward to pinch his cheek. “It’s nothing you have to worry your pretty little head over.”

“Please,” he scoffs, flicking your offending hand back, “He’s been texting us nonstop since this morning at, like, nine. I didn’t even know he was capable of waking up before noon.”

It’s your turn to roll your eyes, but Jean continues, “Why he would ask us for advice on you is beyond me. He knows you better than all of us combined.”

“And why you’re saying all of this is beyond me.”

“Oh, come on, what’d he do,” Jean pushes, borderline whines, as he puts his empty glass down in a cup holder embedded in the couch. He’s always been the most prone to gossip, but you forget that wine makes him even more of a nosey prick. “Must have been pretty bad. Or stupid.”

“Try both,” you mumble, “Well—I don’t know, it wasn’t… the worst thing anyone could do, but it was really fucking reckless—and why he did it, I couldn’t even tell you. I don’t know what goes through his mind half the time, but I swear he must have been on crack last night.”

“He probably was. On crack, I mean. I told you, I took an ounce from him over the weekend, but that was after Eren and Ymir did, like, five lines.”

“Do they really do that regularly?” you nearly cry, a hand massaging your temple, “Fucking Christ, if he really was high while driving, I’ll kill him myself.”

“Well, I don’t know if regular is the right word,” Jean ponders, “Maybe for Ymir, but god knows what she’s on half the time, anyways. Besides, coke isn’t the worst thing they could do.”

“You sound like you speak from personal experience.”

“Maybe,” he shrugs, pausing when you shoot him a disapproving look, “Oh, come on! You’re no angel, either—if memory serves, you were high as shit at Moblit’s birthday party, and kept singing the star spangled banner all night.”

“Yeah, on weed! One time! It was on a rooftop and the stars were out and it has the same rhythm as the happy birthday song, cut me some slack!”

He finds laughing at your expense to be much more fun, however, as he continues to chuckle while you throw a fit. He’s also not one to let a topic of gossip go undiscussed, and has no problem bringing the conversation back to Eren.

“It’s because you two don’t talk, you know,” Jean tuts, “That’s why you fight like this.”

For the second time, the younger’s words have your eyebrows growing close together. “I mean, I guess—but it’s more than that. Eren and I live together, we obviously talk, but—”

“I know, I know, but just hear me out, okay? You and Eren talk about a lot of things, yeah, but you also… don’t. And sometimes you don’t have to, because you guys, like… get each other.”

“Wow. What a way with words you have, Jean Kirstein. You should write a self-help book.”

“What I mean,” he sneers, unhappy with the sarcasm being thrown his way, “Is that you guys understand each other in weird ways. It’s actually kind of cute—sometimes a little freaky, in all honesty. It’s why you don’t always have to talk about serious things. But you take it for granted and let shit bottle up, and then get in denial about it until you blow up in each other’s faces.”

“Please, you barely passed one philosophy class and now you think you’re Plato.”

“You’re doing the in denial thing right now!” he taunts, “Come one, when you two fight like this, what’s it usually about?”

You sigh, sinking back into the plush leather of the couch, and wrapping your hands around a fluffy throw pillow. Thinking about arguing with Eren isn’t particularly something you like to do, and truthfully, you don’t really get pissed at each other that often. Not to the point of ignoring each other, at least.

“I don’t know,” you drawl, “Drugs, me forgetting things, him doing stupid shit, him thinking Mikasa could do better than you, school, drinking, the fact that he leaves his big ass shoes at the top of the stairs for me to trip over and fall to my death every morning, when—”

“His parents?” Jean cuts you off.

“I—we don’t really… it’s not so much fighting over his parents, it’s all the stuff he does to deal with his parents. He never gives his mom’s boyfriends a chance, and he never really talks about why, either. I know he’s secretly just angry and insecure about his dad, but… I don’t know. That doesn’t really make it better.”

“True,” he nods, “See—he doesn’t talk about it.”

“I know, and I told him that last night, too, but… it’s a sensitive subject for him—his dad, I mean,” you sigh, “And you’re right, he shouldn’t bottle his feelings up, but, on the other hand he’s watched his mom get married five times. I don’t always blame him for not wanting to talk about it.”

“Yeah, but just because it’s hard to talk about doesn’t mean he shouldn’t,” Jean lolls, “Wouldn’t you have rather he said something than have done whatever stupid shit he did to make you want to sleep here tonight?”

“Okay, Socrates, I get it,” you lighten up, “I’ll talk to him—or get him to talk to me. Are you happy?”

“Quite,” he says, annoyingly chipper as he rises from the couch. “I hate seeing my favorite power couple fighting.”

Jean knows his words would elicit a slap to his arm, so he takes off just before you can reach him, prompting you to chase him out of the living room and down the hall. The brunette cackles ridiculously loudly as you scream his name with profanities sprinkled in-between. You catch a hold of the bottom of his shirt and pull him back, finally flicking him on the forehead.

He accepts his punishment with pride, offering you a signature smile in return while you both catch your breaths. It’s a sweet moment, the two of you looking at each other with stupid smiles on your face, exhalations tickling your cheeks.

Jean’s eyes break the gaze first, as he looks down the remainder of your face, and back up to your eyes again. His words could get caught in his throat, but he doesn’t let them—he shakes his head, and swiftly turns around, beckoning for you to follow him.

“Come on, we can steal Marco’s clothes for your pajamas this time.”

Jean spends all of three minutes pulling apart Marco’s dresser before swiping a t-shirt and Christmas themed pajama bottoms from his room. He tosses them in your direction before leading you back down the hall and to the left, opening the door to the guest bedroom for you, before leaving you to change.

They have more than one guest bedroom, but this one is unofficially yours. Little pieces of you can be found littered throughout the room, from spare jewelry to mismatched makeup. You spot a single, gold, teardrop shaped earring on the vanity and sigh as you run your fingers over it.

You swear you’d lost it a few months ago. Trust Jean to put it away for safekeeping without telling you he’d found it. The boy in question returns moments later, knocking while walking through the door with your purse in hand.

“How’d you know I was about to ask you to get that?” you question, a smile on your face as you retrieve the small bag from his hands.

Jean offers you a cocky grin, “Cause I’m the best.”

“Don’t go getting a big head, now,” you tease, “Or, well, an even bigger head.”

Jean ignores your insult, as you take a seat at the edge of the bed, fishing through your bag for your phone to plug it in for the night. He’s about to turn around and bid you goodnight, when the flash of something orange peeping out of your purse prompts his next thought.

“Hey, you picked up your refill, right?” he asks innocently, “It should have been ready last Thursday.”

You sigh, head falling slightly when you close your bag and place it on the vanity. “Uh… no.”

Jean’s mouth is already open, ready with equally friendly and scolding words, but you cut him off before he can talk. “I was going to on Thursday, but I had class late, and then I forgot on Friday and I haven’t really had time since then. But I have a few left-overs from the last two months, so I’ve been taking those!”

Jean’s mouth closes, but his eyes narrow as he begins to walk towards you. You know he’s putting two and two together, so you speak ahead of him again.

“I know, I know, I shouldn’t have any left over, but it’s only five, I promise! I’ve been really good, lately.”

Jean’s eyes remain in concentrated slits, but his resolve is waning when he reads over your expression. His facade fades as he takes the final steps towards you to stand directly in front of your body.

“Okay,” he says, voice soft through his smile, “I’ll go with you to pick them up tomorrow before I drop you home, yeah?”

It elates him more than it should to see the smile you flash his way. Unfortunately, it’s short-lived, as his next question leaves your face twisted with guilt.

“Have you… told Eren yet?”

You consider lying and saying yes, but something tells you Jean won’t buy it. Your silence seems to speak loud enough, as his shoulders drop with a quiet sigh.

“I want to, I just… well I’m mad at him right now, and even when I’m not… I don’t know why it’s so hard,” you confess.

“He’d wanna know, you know,” Jean says, and it’s not the first time he’s said it to you, either. “You know he wouldn’t judge you or anything.”

“I know that. But, truthfully, if I had things my way, not even you would know, Jean.”

It was an accident that Jean found out that you’d been taking anxiety medication.

It was at somebody’s house party where the majority of your friends and their guests had gotten piss drunk. Reiner’s date had suggested mixing their alcohol with molly she’d supposedly had in her bag. In her drunken stupor, she’d mistaken your purse for her own, but luckily, a not so drunk Jean had noticed the label didn’t match her name, and snagged the bottle before the worst could happen.

They ended up not finding her molly, anyway, but it’s a moot point. Jean had cornered you about the bottle later in the week with honest intentions; he’d been concerned that might be another kind of drug disguised by a prescription veil. However, you’d assured him that it was indeed your prescribed Lexapro, and not a shady mixture of black market substances.

And, he’d been more than understanding in the aftermath. Quite frankly, he had somewhat made it his business to ensure that you got and took your medication on time and felt comfortable getting to and from your therapy appointments.

It’s endearing in a way that made you pause and count your blessings sometimes. Jean had been nothing but unequivocally supportive in his understanding about anxiety and had gone the extra mile to comfort you where need be. It made you wonder why you hesitated to tell Eren on several occasions.

It was probably the very nature of anxiety itself that had you doubting your trust in Eren. You wanted to tell him—of course you did—but, you couldn’t. You know that Eren would do everything in his power to make it better, even if that was just being. You know that he’d want to know and he’d kill to understand. But you couldn’t possibly burden him with your problems, not when he has a million of his own.

The one person in the world you wanted to tell, you were terrified of talking to. And you know it’s irrational to be afraid of him, but you can’t seem to control those thoughts. It’s a tiring, consuming, endless cycle.

Jean watches the way your gaze lowers to the floor. He knows exactly what you’re thinking, and, god, he swears if he could take that train of thought away from you, he’d do it in a heartbeat.

With a heavy heart and tired eyes, he takes a final step forward and wraps his arms around your body. He counts three, four seconds before you hug him back. He raises a hand to the back to your head, cradling your face into his shoulder and squeezing you tightly.

“Hey, I’m proud of you, you know that,” he speaks, just a notch above a whisper, “I know you’ll tell him when you’re ready.”

“I will,” you murmur into the fabric of his shirt. You hug him back a little tighter and close your eyes, “Thank you, Jean.”

And Jean holds on, and hopes you know that he wouldn’t let you go, “You’re welcome, (_____).”

You come home to find your entire apartment littered with flowers; in the hallway, on the sectional, atop the counter, up the stairs.

There are several boxes of your favorite macarons stacked in a small pyramid on the kitchen island, and you wouldn’t be surprised if you checked the labels to find that they were shipped straight from the south of France this morning. There’s too many bottles of Ace on the coffee table, sparkling next to a basket of what looks like your regular skincare products. A pretty, gold bow rests atop an even prettier pair of red-bottomed heels, and if you’re not mistaken, that’s a limited edition, vintage YSL clutch on the sectional, resting against your favorite throw pillow.

You sigh, making your way to the couch to pick up the orange envelope sticking out of the handbag. Just as you’re about to open it, you hear footsteps, and a voice that follows.

“You’re back,” Eren chirps from mid-way on the staircase, “I, uh, there’s catering coming from Butter coming soon. I know it’s your favorite,” he continues as he descends the stairs.

He has his hand on the back of his neck and there’s a faint, pink tint to his cheeks as he slowly makes his way towards you. You cross your arms, looking him up and down when he stands in front of you.

He’s wearing dark jeans and a tweed sweater with patches at the elbow. His hair is split down the middle, longer than usual, so the ends of sweep over his eyelashes; and there are telltale signs that he’d been toying with it.

“Eren, what is all of this?” you finally ask, shifting your weight to your right leg.

“Part one of my apology and explanation,” he replies, a hopeful timbre to his voice. You roll your eyes, but he continues anyway, “Actually, part two is in that envelope.”

Skeptical, you unfold your arms and open the envelope. You don’t know what you were expecting—a card, maybe tickets to a musical or something; but what you definitely weren’t expecting were two tickets to Paris.

“France?” you look up, tickets in hand, “You don’t get it do you? You can’t just buy all of this shit, jet us off to Europe and expect everything to be okay.”

“No, no it’s not like that—I swear!” he interjects, hands moving sporadically, “It’s just, well… Can we sit? Then I can explain everything.”

Eren looks at you with those big green eyes and that sad pout to his lips, and you find yourself sighing and taking a seat on the couch against your better judgement. There’s a small smile to his lips when you do—a little victory—and he sits next to you, your knees resting against each other as you face him.

He’s shaking, and your resolve to punish him with whatever solid exterior and half-assed silent treatment dissolves as you take his left hand in your right, and recall your conversation with Jean. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s me, Eren. You can talk to me.”

When he feels your smaller hand envelop his, the shaking stops, and for a moment, it feels like he can do this, like everything is okay. He smiles, and takes a deep breath.

“The other night, you were right, about my mom and her boyfriend coming home,” he starts, words slow and heavy, “I didn’t even know she was coming—I knew she was visiting this month, but she didn’t tell me when, and I thought it was going to be just her, you know? But then she showed up with him, and, well, I don’t know. I was upset. She’s been home for a week now, and we haven’t even gone to dinner or anything.”

He pauses, and you squeeze his hand for reassurance, “We were supposed to get lunch on Thursday, but she cancelled. Had some meeting or something, I don’t know, I don’t care. Friday comes and she says she wants to have dinner, right?”

You nod, he continues. “I thought it was just going to be us, but he was there. That’s when she told me that… that they’re…” he squeezes his eyes shut, “They’re engaged.”

Your mouth falls into a small o-shape. Everything made perfect sense now.

It’s not that Eren didn’t love his mother, quite the opposite actually. He’s a mama’s boy through and through; she’s his role model, his everything, he adores her. Her career as a designer often takes her on long business trips, most frequently as prolonged stays in Paris, so much so that she relocated her primary office there shortly after Eren graduated high school.

Now, she only visits home for one or two weeks at a time, sometimes only for the weekend. Upon her decision to permanently relocate, she planned to leave Eren under the unofficial supervision of Mikasa. Instead, Eren bought Mikasa her own three-bedroom apartment in Midtown (according to his logic, it was better for her to have her own place than to move in with Jean), and a shared two-story penthouse for the both of you that overlooks Central Park.

Eren misses her more than he cares to admit, but he puts on the same facade every time she comes home because he hates the company she brings.

Paris is where she met her newest boyfriend, Mitchell, and Eren swears he hates that man with every fiber of his being. It’s not saying much, though, not when Eren’s hated every single one of his mother’s past romantic partners, right down to his own father.

“Is… is that why you—”

“Rented a brand new Corvette and went drag racing at one in the morning?” he chuckles, “Yeah. It was stupid, I know, but I was just angry, I guess. I dunno what I was feeling, but it wasn’t good.”

You nod, wrapping both of your hands around his now and offering him a warm smile. He smiles back, just for a moment. “That’s what the tickets are for, actually. The wedding.”

“They’re getting married in France?” you question, to which he nods, “On the first? Isn’t that a little short notice to plan a wedding?”

“I think you’re underestimating the power of Carla Jaeger,” he chuckles, “Apparently, it’s been in the works for a few months now. He proposed with fireworks or some shit. Said she wanted to tell me in person, though.”

“This ticket is for next week,” you say, rereading the dates on the papers. “The wedding is three weeks from now.”

“Well, I kind of figured we could take a little vacation before then,” he grins, “I texted most of the boys earlier, and they can probably come to the wedding, but I want to spend some time with you before it gets hectic, you know? Consider it an end of the semester present.”

Your eyes flicker down to your hand, still wrapped around Eren’s, when he starts to trace circles into your skin, “I thought I just told you, you can’t jet us off to Europe to fix things.”

“You did,” he hums, “And I know I can’t—I’m not trying to, I just… Truthfully, I reserved the plane and the hotel a few weeks back and it really was just going to be a surprise for us—well, more like a gift for you because I know you’ve been busting your ass in chem—but then… everything else happened, and I think a break sounds perfect before I watch my mom get married for the sixth time.”

You watch him continue to toy with your hands for a while, processing your conversation. It was typical of Eren to surprise you like this, so you can’t figure out why this particular present leaves you feeling warmer than usual.

“You sure you don’t need a break from me?”

Eren beams and takes the opportunity to lace your fingers together. “Nah, you’re annoying, but not Jean level annoying.”

You scoff, “I’m telling him you said that.”

“It’ll sound better coming from you, anyway,” he shrugs, “Besides, I might just murder Mitchell if you’re not there with me.”

You chuckle, on the verge of accepting his proposal, but the mention of Jean prompts another thought to cross through your mind. “I’d love to, but I… I don’t know. I don’t want Armin to spend the first few weeks of winter break here all alone.”

This Christmas would mark one year since Armin had seen, or even talked to, any of his immediate family members, with the exception of Erwin.

Last year, you all tried to salvage the damage by sticking around so, at the very least, he didn’t have to feel alone. You and your friends decided that Armin ought to be celebrated, not ostracized for any aspect of himself, so you all chipped in for a cute, impromptu trip to the Catskills so that everyone could be together and close to home.

This year, however, there seemed to be quite a few conflicts of interest. Even if Armin was one of the boys who was planning on attending the wedding, you doubt he had plans leading up to it. You know that Marco, Bertholdt, Mikasa, and Jean had invited him to go to Aspen with them, but Armin declined the offer. Similarly, Connie, Sasha, Annie, Reiner, and Ymir would be off to Dubai as soon as classes ended; an invitation Armin had also turned down.

You weren’t sure what Erwin’s plans were, though you’re certain they involved his own friends in some way or another. At the very least, it was unlikely that he would leave his younger brother completely stranded over the break; but you didn’t want to make plans without knowing Armin wouldn’t be alone.

“He won’t, actually he’ll be closer than you think,” Eren reassures you, “Hange and Moblit wanted to go skiing anyways, so Erwin is taking all of them to the Alps instead of Aspen. Armin doesn’t know yet, but he’s going with them.”

“Shouldn’t Erwin spend his break campaigning, and not skiing? Last I checked, he wasn’t too popular in Queens”

“Ah, you know Erwin,” Eren shrugs, “He has a way of making people devote themselves to him. He’ll win the election with or without campaigning, trust me—the point is, that little baby Armin will be safe and sound under Erwin’s protection, and you don’t have to worry about him.”

“How come you get to call him a baby?”

“Because I’m a hypocritical asshole who doesn’t deserve you, but is hoping you’ll come with me anyway.”

Eren smirks, but there’s a genuine undertone to his words as he moves his fingers to toy with the ring around your pointer finger. The same one he gave to you two Christmases ago. Well, kind of.

The ring he originally gifted you was a Harry Winston piece, with an encrusted band that wrapped into two sunflowers, both made of classic, white diamonds with emeralds sparkling in the center. After seeing the design, and the price tag, you demanded that he take it back, or at the very least, get it sized to fit on your index finger or thumb so that people didn’t get the wrong idea.

Instead, he came back with a simple, silver chain for the original ring to hang from, and the current ring on your finger; a rose gold band with tiny diamonds studded around it. Likely equally as expensive, but more appropriate according to you.

“Fine. But you have to be on your best behavior,” you agree, paying no mind to Eren’s thumb twirling your jewelry, “Do you promise me no drag racing or antics of any sort while we’re there?”

Eren shakes his head at the memory, eyeing the first ring that sits against your chest.

He smiles. “I do.”

The afternoon after your last exam, you bid the remainder of your friends goodbye, grab your bags, and hop on a plane with Eren. It arrives in Paris, but you’re rerouted off to Nice before you can so much as blink at the Eiffel tower; you’d be staying there for the two and half weeks leading up to the wedding, in a small villa.

You had to hand it to him, Eren really outdid himself. It’s dark and nearing three in the morning when you arrive, but even in your sleepy stupor you can admire your accommodations. The villa is secluded, the perfect distance from the water, and decorated lavishly almost to your exact liking. You wouldn’t be surprised if Eren sprung it on you that he’d bought the place, and wasn’t merely renting it for this vacation.

Every day after that, Eren proves he was honest in his intentions of this being a getaway gift to you. He’s planned every activity under the sun—from hot air balloon rides, to helicopter tours, to jet-skiing. The days are certainly fun and filled with beautiful memories, but there’s something special about Nice at sunset; something about the sound of gentle waves brushing up against the beach, and the spotlights carved from sun-cast shadows on the buildings.

It’s just after dinner time, bordering on your eighth night here, when you and Eren are walking along the cobblestone streets that border the beach, the length of your sundress flowing every which way with the breeze, and the tail of Eren’s blazer flailing like a cape behind him.

He looks nice tonight, but, truthfully, he always does. He claimed he hadn’t put on the casual green suit because of your outfit, but you swear he was wearing khakis before he saw your dress. The tips of his ears go red when you tease him about it at dinner, but it doesn’t really matter to you; he would have looked good, regardless. Those suits are made for him, after all; tailored to fit perfectly, and designed by his own mother.

The streets tend to settle down after six, locals and tourists retreating indoors or heading to the beach to relax and draw in the evening. Tonight, however, there’s much more commotion than usual on your route.

“Maybe we should take the long way,” you suggest. On the tips of your toes, you realize that there’s some kind of special event happening in the square, filled with lights and music that grows louder with every step you take.

But the crowd and the lights and the smell of food only piques Eren’s interest. “No way—let’s check it out!”

You don’t have the time to refute before his long legs surpass your own stride, headfirst into the sea of people. You can only follow with a smile and a shake of your head. The soft green of his suit jacket serves as your guide as he navigates through the crowd, but the closer you get to the center, the more people there are.

You can feel palms of your hands growing uncomfortably warm as you become hyperaware of just how many people there are. You clutch the end of your dress in your hand, for both practicality and as a sort of comfort mechanism, as you try your best to calm the anxious wave threatening to crash against you.

With a deep breath, you begin to walk again, unaware of Eren’s actions until you physically walk into his hand, long fingers poking at your belly. You hadn’t realized he stopped walking, or that you’d caught up with him, and your eyebrows crinkle when you look down to see Eren’s left hand extended behind him and towards you, palm facing upwards.

He doesn’t say anything, or look back at you at all. Only wraps his larger fingers around yours when he feels the weight of your hand in his, and continues to guide you through the crowd, his pace slower, and hand firm around yours.

The mass of people becomes more spread out when you approach what appears to be the center of the event; and it looks like a party, maybe a wedding of some sort. There’s food and champagne galore, and more than enough happy guests dancing along to upbeat music in the streets.

Eren’s eyes light up as he takes in the scene, “You wanna dance?”

“What—Eren, no!” you refuse, “We cannot crash these people’s party!”

“Why not?” he counters, without a care in the world, “Seems like an open invitation to me! Come on!”

And for the second time that evening, you find yourself being pulled into his schemes; this time in the direction of the open space dubbed dance floor.

You’re both terrible and ostentatious and people start to watch, but it doesn’t matter because you’re smiling too wide and laughing too hard to care. Eren has a way of moving both with and against the music, forcing your body to follow his lead.

He shouts something over the noise, but you don’t have time to register his words before he laces your right hand with his left, and places his right hand on your waist. There’s a blink of confusion for a moment before you’re being swept off your feet and into a dramatic dip. You don’t have time to secure yourself against his shoulders, but Eren does a fine job of supporting you with a single arm against your back.

From what you can tell the song is far from over and the dramatic pose is completely unwarranted, but you and the crowd alike are victim to his charm. You indulge yourself, looking up at him with eyes too fond to memorize every feature of his face in this moment; the way he’s laughing with that big, dumb, wide smile of his that makes his nose crinkle and his eyes light up.

You’re too busy looking at him to hear Eren’s voice calling out to you, or even realize that he’s moved you from your pose to standing back upright. He’s equal parts amused and concerned at the glazed over look in your eyes.

“Hello? Anybody home up there?” he teases, elongating the vowels and squeezing your waist to alert you.

The reminder of his hands on your hips pulls you back to reality, your eyes fluttering down to his arms, then back to his face. It feels stuffy suddenly, too close to function.

“Yea—yeah! Do you wanna get a drink? Yeah, let’s get a drink!” you exclaim, haphazardly pointing and walking towards the food.

You don’t see it, but Eren looks on with glittering eyes, his verbal agreement heard only by himself as you veer towards the buffet. He can still feel your body in his grip, still see the specks of gold in your pupils as he lingers on the back of your silhouette lovingly. And before you can realize, he snaps himself out of it—an out of body experience similar to yours a few moments ago—before catching up with you.

You end up socializing for much longer than intended. Eren makes friends with everyone, to no surprise, and, uncharacteristically, you feel influenced by his actions, and converse with a few people yourself. You let him take the lead, though. Partially because he’s better at it, and partially because you just like listening to him speak French.

“Hey, we should probably get out of here,” he whispers into your ear after waving goodbye to a lovely couple you’d just met, “Before the host of this party realizes we’re miles better than his actual guests.”

You nod with a smile, more than happy to play by his rules for the evening. He offers you his hand again, that same, dopey smile on his face when you take it.

He leads you out of the crowd and back on to the path to your villa, the smell of warm food and sounds of vibrant music growing dull as you venture further from the celebration. It’s much darker than it was when you began your trek back from the restaurant, but beautiful all the same.

Your sandals pad against the wooden dock that leads up the villa, and Eren unlocks the door silently, ushering you inside before entering behind you.

“I know I said I wanted to leave, but I’m not really tired yet,” Eren confesses, pulling his blazer off of his shoulders.

“Me neither,” you say, placing your small wristlet on the table with a shrug, “What do you wanna do though, I’m not—”

“Great!” he cuts you off, smile too big. You narrow your own in suspicion. That tone of voice with that look on his face usually meant something mischievous, at best. “Remember when you said the first time you’d smoke would be with me, and then pranced away and took a bowl from Hange and got high as shit at Moblit’s party?”

“Why does everyone remember Moblit’s party but me!”

“Don’t worry about it,” he chuckles, waving the topic away, “Anyway… Do you wanna smoke now?”

You blink. “I… did you… smuggle weed all the way to France?”

“No, of course not!” he refutes, “…I got it here.”

You scoff, but don’t have the time to question him further before Eren’s tugging on your wrist and pulling you into the bedroom. You take to sitting on your bed while he rummages through his suitcase to retrieve a small, clear jar with several rolled joints inside and a lighter to match.

He shuffles next to you in the bed, mindlessly handing you the lighter while he unscrews the top off the jar. He takes out two of the joints, places one next to the jar on the nightstand, and tucks the other between his teeth. He asks you to hand him the lighter, and you do so wordlessly, distracted by the sight of Eren’s gaze and the blunt poking out his mouth.

“This’ll be fun, yeah?” He reassures you, “Technically, you let Hange take your weed virginity, but I’ll be better.”

“Can you not phrase it like that,” you roll your eyes, “You already took my virginity virginity, don’t be bitter.”

An all too smug grin settles on his features as he recounts the fact. “Besides,” you tack on, “I’ve never done it like this before. So, it’s still a first, kind of.”

Eren cups one hand around the joint, sparking the lighter with the other until it catches fire. He inhales, slow and deliberate, as if he were putting on a show, or a lesson, of sorts, taking the smoke into his lungs and out through his mouth.

You’d gravely miscalculated how attractive Eren would look doing this. Sure, he’s hot, you knew that, but the pronunciation of his jawline when he exhales, and the confidence with which he drags on the blunt is a stark reminder to you. He takes a few more hits, just as slow and sensual as the first, and the room begins to feel warmer.

“Come closer,” be beckons, smoke rolling off of his tongue with every syllable.

You snap yourself out of the haze of your imagination and scoot closer to him. He silently hands you the joint, and it feels heavy between your fingers. At the distance, you take in the smell—pungent and off-putting, but too familiar.

Eventually, you bring it to your lips, careful not to let your tongue press against the tip, and inhale slowly, like you’d seen Eren do before. You do your best to hold the smoke in your lungs for a bit, but seeing as the last time you did this you were amped up on adrenaline and drunk off your ass, the task proves to be much more difficult. It tickles before becoming uncomfortable and you exhale ungracefully, puffs of smoke punctuating your coughs.

Eren watches with a grin, amused at the sight of you fanning the excess smoke away with your nose scrunched in distaste. “You should have warned me you were gonna cough like a bitch.”

“Oh, fuck off,” you whine, trying to hide the hint of a smile creeping onto your face. You hand the blunt back to him, “You’re supposed to teach me, not tease me, asshole.”

Eren pauses his laughter, unsure of what to make of your tone; rushed, a bit embarrassed, but testy. It’s quiet while he stares at you, trying not to let the implication of your words run wild in his mind; but it’s futile when you’re pouting like that, the room is growing foggier, and he’s been semi-hard since you accepted his offer.

“Fine. Watch and learn,” he breathes, words coming out more jagged than he’d intended.

This time, he completely exaggerates every motion; he inhales at a tantalizing pace and flutters his eyes closed while he lets the smoke swish in his mouth, down his throat, and expand into his lungs. He cranes his neck upwards, and purses his lips to let the clouds exit in the streamline that follows the slope of his jaw.

Maybe it’s the drugs getting to you, but your mind is filled with nothing but sheer clouds that aren’t thick enough to block out thoughts of Eren. The weed is unattractive, potent in smell, and all kinds of wrong; yet, everything about him is soft, sultry, and pulls you in.

“Wanna try again, or do you need another lesson?”

You faintly mutter a profanity under your breath. His words end with giggles, a sign the drugs have already begun to take their effect on him, his expression is still smug. You forget Eren knows just how attractive he is. Motherfucker.

“Actually,” he cuts your train of thought, “I have a better idea, come ‘ere.”

Eren beckons you forward again, closing the gap between your legs so that your knees graze each other under the fabric of your clothing while you’re sat next to each other. He leans over, far too close into your personal space, as if to test something; he freezes when his nose is mere inches from your face, a dissatisfied scrunch taking over his features.

He reinstates his hold on your wrist, motioning your body backwards until your back is against the frame of the bed. He hums in approval, positioning himself next to you again, equally as close, but far more comfortable for what he has planned next.

“I’m—I’m gonna try somethin’, okay?” he stutters, the first word mistakenly coming out in broken German, “Just, don’t freak out on me. It’ll be good, promise.”

You nod, unsure of what you’ve just signed off on, but you don’t have time to ask questions. Eren takes another hit, then passes the blunt to his non-dominant hand. He turns to face you, leans forward, and places his free hand on the back of your neck to pull you closer; the expanse of his palm leaving room for his thumb to venture over the bottom half of your cheek.

Eren pulls you in until your lips are millimeters apart, and he can see the pattern of your eyes in beautiful detail. He shifts his hand now so that the majority of it covers your face, the pad of his thumb running across your bottom lip. He applies the perfect amount of pressure to pry your willing mouth open, and then, finally, exhales.

This time, you can taste it. It’s woodsy, and bitter, but the sweet undertones dance on your tongue. This time, there’s more to think about than just the smoke in your lungs; like the burn of Eren’s hand on your neck; the pressure of his thumb against your bottom lip; the proximity of his lips to yours; the look in his eyes.

“Feel good?” he doesn’t bother to pull away before asking, and the words ghost over your lips with the remaining smoke. You nod; he smiles. “Wanna try again?”

You let out a breathy note of affirmation, and then he’s inhaling and exhaling into you, and you welcome him with pried lips and a heavy thumping in your chest. The confidence with which he maneuvers his body and the drugs is nerve-wracking, yet comforting at the same time; he has an expertise and power that intimidates, but compels you to follow.

Together, you finish the first blunt, and Eren lights the second without missing a beat. His hands are more demanding this around; they guide you into submission, and he’s pleased to find that you’re willing to listen.

After the third exhale, you stop focusing on his hands, and more on his lips. After the fourth, you think you might be high—not to the stars as you infamously were during Moblit’s party—but with a comfortable, dull buzz in your head. Everything feels a little fuzzy, out of touch, but you host a burning want for something more, something tangible.

You don’t know it, but Eren feels the same.

After the fifth exhale, Eren pulls away, the blunt a simple stub as he flicks it away onto the night stand, and you miss him being too close. You miss his hands, you miss his warmth, you crave his touch.

“Eren,” you call, unable to think of or see anything but him in the haze. He answers with a strained, “Yeah?” keening towards the sound of your voice, wide eyes flitting all over your face.

It’s too much, too close, too hot. That’s when you cup his jaw, pull him forward, and meld your lips together.

Kissing Eren is painfully familiar, and unnervingly satisfying. It’s certainly not your first kiss with him; and, yet he has a way of making you feel like it is while reminding you of your history. His lips are soft, and they taste like smoke and the chapstick you swear by because he refuses to buy or test out his own.

You pull away too soon, gauging his reaction with blown-out eyes, before dipping forward to have him against you again. Then again, and again, and again, until Eren is tired of your leaving, and his hands are back on your neck.

This kiss is deeper, Eren searching to satisfy the hunger aching inside of him, and you’re happy to comply when his thumb is pressing at your lower lip again. You open your mouth for him and he doesn’t waste a moment, brushing his tongue against yours experimentally, and then flush into your mouth.

He groans when you rake your fingers into his hair, and pulls back with a hissing noise when you scratch at his nape. Large hands move to grip at your waist, and he pulls you into his lap with a concentrated gaze—a brief second for him to admire the sight of you on top of him, before he resumes kissing you. He sucks on your tongue, rolls his past your teeth, and bites on your bottom lip.

You know he relishes in the sounds he elicits from you, and under any normal circumstance, you’re willing to put up a fight with him, but not now. Now, you let him unzip the back of your dress and snake his hands beneath the fabric. The rubbing motions of his hands turn into gripping, gripping into grinding, and eventually, an unfiltered moan slips past your lips when you feel Eren’s erection roll against you.

“Fuck,” he pulls back with a suck of your swollen lip, “You’re so hot.”

Eren quickly switches your positions so that he’s hovering over you. You chuckle lightly underneath him, taking the opportunity to run both your hands through his hair and cradle his head in your hold, “Haven’t done anything yet.”

“I know,” Eren murmurs, dipping his head down to press kisses into your neck, “Still so sexy. So pretty, always.”

Eren bites a hickey into your collar bone, and everywhere he can touch; your neck, your ears, your cheeks, your lips. Your moaning serves as the spark to keep him going, but he’s barely coherent himself the way you keep pulling at his hair and grinding yourself against him. Even through his clothes, you can feel how painfully hard he is.

He barely catches your tongue between his lips when you moan again, sucking harshly before bruising his lips over yours again. His hands are grabby again, finally pulling your dress completely off of your body, leaving it to form a puddle on the ground. They’re back on your as soon as possible, massaging over your tits, and running his index finger over your nipples.

“Eren... Eren, please,” you whimper, chest heaving as you look down at him. He rolls his index finger over your right nipple, with his left hand teasing the other with his thumb. You can’t tell if the look in his eyes is a product of the weed, or just his glassy, borderline predatory stare, but it makes you shiver with pleasure when he wraps his mouth around your nipple and sucks.

“I want you.”

“Want you, too,” Eren hums, pulling back with a thin trail of spit from your breast, before moving to give your left nipple the same treatment, “More than you know.”

You keen to him when he teases his teeth against you, finally having had enough you force him off of you with a tug of his hair. “Then take off your clothes.”

Eren blinks, wide-eyed but glazed all the same. He chuckles lightly, a blush spreading over his cheeks as he nods. He sits back on his knees, pulling his shirt over his head, forgoing undoing the buttons, and pauses briefly with his hands over the zipper of his pants.

“Please tell me you’re not that gone that you forgot how to undo your zipper,” you tease him, chest still heaving from his previous ministrations. Eren smiles, doe-eyed and hazy, and shakes his head.

“No,” he reassures you, finally undoing his zipper and shimmying his pants off his legs, “Was trying to remember what underwear I was wearing. Didn't want it to be embarrassing.”

His honesty makes you laugh, and Eren pauses for a moment to soak it in. Even like this, even with him stumbling over the steps to undress himself, and you almost completely naked in front of him, he can make you smile. There’s something equally sexy and endearing about your giggles; a juxtaposition that makes him want to hug you or kiss you or something in between. And you—you like the look in his eyes even through your giggling; the way he smiles back and blushes and tells you exactly what he’s thinking.

“It’s okay,” you tell him, “Don’t think mine are particularly sexy either.”

Eren hums, shuffling back on to the bed so that he’s between your legs, and leans forward to kiss you again. He still can’t seem to keep his hands off of you, his fingers immediately flying to your underwear and peeling them off your legs, pulling you closer despite the lack of space between your bodies.

“Yeah, doesn’t matter,” Eren echos, tossing the offending item to the side, before cupping your face in his hands, “I’d still wanna fuck you in your granny panties.”

“You wanna fuck me?” you question, eyes sparkling and hopeful.

“Yeah, I do,” Eren can’t help but to smile again, happy and high and drunk on you, too, “Will you let me?”

Your feverish nodding is all it takes for Eren’s mind to go hazy again; clouded with you, you, you. You pull him into a kiss, arching your body into his, and running your hands down the sides of his back. He moans at the feeling, punishing you by nipping at your lower lip and pressing your stomach back to the mattress with his palm.

Your eyes meet his as Eren lines himself up with your cunt, teasing your folds with the head; but it doesn’t take long before he finally pushes in, sheathing himself inside you completely without movement. He waits a minute, whether it’s to make you comfortable, or to gather his own bearings, you’re not sure; but when he’s ready, he flashes you a smile and waits for one in return, before he starts thrusting.

You know Eren’s not gentle; rough whether or not he intends to be by virtue of his size in comparison to you, but you seem to have forgotten just how capable he is of making you lose your senses. He has you gasping, grasping at him at him unintelligibly, feeling full with his cock inside of you.

Eren groans, borderline growls, when he feels you clench around him, when he sees you shaking beneath him. He could do this all; could watch you all day.

“So pretty, the prettiest. Prettiest girl, my favorite girl,” Eren praises, eyes raking up and down your thrashing body, “My favorite fucking girl.”

“You—you, too.”

“Yeah? I’m your favorite, too?” Eren coos, reaching out to guide your arms over your head, the force of his body pinning your hands down; you can hardly gasp before he lacess your fingers together, and gives you a reassuring squeeze.

“Promised you, didn’t I? That I’d be good to you, be on my best behavior,” Eren reminds you, leaning forward.

He eyes your necklace—eyes glued to ring around it—bouncing with your body. He bends his head down to kiss it, bites at the skin near it; a possessive streak overcoming him as the diamonds shine against you. “I said I’d treat you good, always. Meant it.”

He stutters, when you squeeze him back; fingers tightening around his hold, your pussy clenching around his cock. Your whining is insistent, and mixes with Eren’s low moans and guttural noises. Eren doesn’t let up his pace, fucking you fast and deep, and it’s only a matter of time before you feel a knot twisting in your belly.

You attempt to move your arms, searching for a release of the feeling building up inside of you but Eren is strong; stronger than you, and he keeps you in your place. Keeps your arms pinned above you, keeps his palms pressed into yours, keeps his lips hovering above yours, just out of reach.

“Eren,” you call his name through shaky moans.

“Yeah? What, baby?”

“Kiss me.”

And so he does, his lips needy and hungry over yours. Eren fucks you and kisses you through your orgasm, tasting your moans on his tongue in timing with him cumming inside of you. You don’t let up; kissing him lewdly while you both come down from your highs.

“So good,” Eren croons against your lips, down your jaw, into your skin, “So good for me.”

You both moan in chorus when he finally pulls out, Eren’s head laying on your collar, nose nuzzling into your neck. He lets your hands free, and immediately you wrap them around his back, holding him close as you both attempt to catch your breaths.

You don’t know how long you lay there like that, with Eren on top of you, and your thumb rubbing circles into his cheek while he sleeps soundly. Maybe an hour, maybe more, maybe less; but the euphoria of your sex doesn’t quiet seem to fade.

It might last all night, maybe even for the rest of your trip but you don’t mind. You think back to earlier in the evening, when you’d caught his gaze after your dance. The feeling isn’t all that different; warm, and fuzzy, and too much and not enough all at once. It feels good, it feels like Eren.

You hum softly to yourself, careful not to wake up the sleeping boy on your chest, when you realize exactly what these two moments have in common: a rare event in which Eren is still in front of you, steady and stagnant, no running or chasing; and you don’t want to let him go.

Sometimes Eren thinks you act oblivious on purpose just to fuck with him, because there’s absolutely no way you—or any human with a functioning nervous system and social cues—can’t tell that he’s completely, stupidly, and embarrassingly in love with you.

Long gone are his days of trying to deny it or get over it. He realized that sophomore year of high school—almost eight years ago—that no matter where he went, what kind of drug he inhaled, or how hard he tried, you’d be permanently etched into his heart. That doesn’t make it any less exhausting, and, in fact, only makes it more astounding that you haven’t caught on yet. Honestly, Eren’s considered hiring a private psychiatrist just to make nothing’s wrong with you.

Amazingly, the remainder of your vacation continues just like the former half. The only exception being that now you’re in Paris. And that he’s shamelessly coerced you into letting him fuck your brains out on several occasions. But besides that, everything’s chill.

Just two best friends traveling through France together and stopping to fuck in any semi-private location they can find. Just two peas in a pod walking along the Champs Elysées at damn near midnight. Just two best buds with linked arms tasting (see: feeding each other) every macaron flavor they come across while violinists play stupidly romantic, classical music in the background.

He knows he should probably talk to you about it, but for some reason he can’t. Like telling you would make it all too real, and give it a meaning that could so easily be taken away from him; give you a reason to want to leave him. Right now, it’s just a fantasy, and he’s free to keep dreaming, believing that he’s special and worth enough for the affection you’ve shown him.

He doesn’t want to be one in a list of your boyfriends, or fiances, or husbands; he wants to be your only one, and if he can’t be, then he’d rather be stuck to your side as your best friend. At least that way, in someway, he could remain special to you; not a forgotten, ordinary ex of your past.

Though, a best friend who he’s sleeping with regularly and he’s in love with and will always be in love with is starting to sound a lot like a husband to him. At least, the kind of husband he would like to be to you.

You call his name, asking him if he wants to try another sweet. Eren rolls his eyes. What he wants is to fuck you, and marry you, and have you bless his stupid little existence with two runts for kids that look like him but act like you so his life savings don’t run out by the time they’re twelve. But sure, he’ll settle for having you feed him another macaron in the meantime.

“This one tastes just like the coconut one,” he mumbles, chewing his way through the pastry you’d stuffed into his mouth whole.

It’s the seventh bakery you’ve stopped at tonight, and even though Eren’s growing pretty sick of the sugary treats, he’ll walk with you to every damn bakery in Paris tonight if that’s what you want.

He blinks at the thought. He’s so lovesick it’s disgusting. And he wouldn’t do a damn thing to change it.

“That’s probably because it’s almond and coconut flavored,” you say, wiping the stickiness from your fingers onto a napkin.

“I didn’t taste any almonds.”

“I don’t even think you could spell almond, much less tell me what they taste like.”

Eren simply pouts in refute, leaving you giggling at his expression. He doesn’t know if it’s possible, but you seem even prettier in Paris than in Nice. But, that’s probably his rose-colored glasses speaking.

“You think there’ll be macarons at the reception?” you question, biting into yet another pistachio flavored treat, “And if not, would it be rude to bring my own?”

He chuckles. “Yes, babe, I’m sure there will be macarons there.”

He’s always loved Paris, even when his mom moved away here and left him in New York, and he’d always loved it more when you’re with him. He feared that having to attend another, what he considered to be wasteful, wedding in arguably one of his favorite places in the world would leave a bitter taste in his mouth; but, thankfully, he’s only fallen deeper in love since being here.

“You sure you won’t be sick of them by tomorrow?” he asks, watching you debate between taste testing another variation of vanilla bean or rosé.

“How could I get sick of them?” you answer offhandedly, not sparing him a glance away as you choose the pink snack. How could he get sick of you.

“By the time we get back to New York you’ll have forgotten all about them,” he scoffs.

“Don’t worry I’ll quit it soon. I’ll have to eat something solid if I wanna take my meds and go to bed,” you spew with a smile, unaware of what you’ve actually just said, “But they are delicious and I have no regrets.”

Eren pauses. Then so do you, mouth stuffed with sickly sweet.

“I mean—”

“I know, you know,” he cuts you off, “About the meds and stuff.”

You look like you could pass out, or scream, or cry, or everything in between. Eren figures saying more is better than saying less, so he continues.

“I saw a bottle in the bathroom a few months ago,” he admits shyly, but careful about his tone, “Didn’t understand half the words on the label, but it had your name on it so I just, uh… Googled it.”

Of course he knows. Eren’s always kind of known, just never had the words to express it. He imagines that’s what you’re feeling right now.

“Oh,” you finally gape, “Why didn’t you, um… you know, like, say… anything?”

“It seemed like your secret to tell,” Eren shrugs, features softening out, “Besides, I figured you’d tell me when you wanted to.”

Eren’s always been better at showing than saying, anyway. He hopes that his actions, small as they may seem, might have provided you with any sort of comfort in the past few months. Maybe even before that, too.

“Oh,” you repeat, continually blinking at him, “That’s… that’s it? You’re cool with it?”

Now it’s Eren’s turn to blink. “What do you mean am I cool with it? They’re your meds.”

“Yeah, but like… you’re not mad I didn’t tell—”

“Of course I’m not mad,” he cuts you off with a soft smile, “It’s not really my business. I mean, like, you’re my business because I care about you, but you have your own private stuff, too, which is cool. Besides, when I was, uh, researching it, I learned that it can be hard to tell people stuff like that even if—”

Eren shuts up when he feels your weight against him and your arms wrapped around him. Shell shocked, he takes a moment to hug you back, and slowly comes to rest his chin atop your head after leaving a flurry of kisses.

“You didn’t have to look it up or do any kind of research, you know,” you mumble softly into his jacket. Eren borderline chortles, but only hugs you more tightly.

“Of course I did. If not for you, then for myself, because I meant it when I said I’d never seen half the words on the prescription before in my life,” he replies, heart glowing at the sound of your small chuckles.

He’s expecting an equally witty response, but you surprise him when you pull back just enough to face him, a hazy smile on your face. “You’re amazing, Eren.”

Don’t blush, fool. Don’t blush, fool. Don’t blush—fucking idiot.

“Yeah, I’m pretty great,” he boasts, leaning back into the coolest pose he could muster up while ignoring the growing heat creeping up his neck. It’s all in vain as you reach over to playfully tug at one of his ears.

He thinks you’re pretty like this. All the time, but most notably when he has you in his arms. So pretty, that he has to lean forward to kiss you; you don’t seem to mind, if the way you smile into the kiss is any indication of your feelings. Eren finds himself mirroring your grin; moving his arms from around your waist to the sides of your face.

The workers in this poor little café probably hate the two of you, but he doesn’t fucking care. He’s got his favorite girl in his arms right now, and you taste like almonds and coconuts and like the love of his life.

And he should tell you. Eren wants to tell you, and he finds himself wondering if those same intrusive, fearful thoughts were part of the driving force behind your own reason to keep your secrets from him.

You pull away from him, hands lightly draped around his neck, and you smile like you’re shy—like he hasn’t known you your whole life. Still, Eren finds himself smiling back; and thinks that if you were brave enough to tell him how you were feeling, then he should do the same.

“(_____), I… I gotta tell you something,” he starts, voice soft as his fingers curl around your waist a little more tightly, “Though, I’m kind of hoping you already know.”

You blink at him, almost innocently. Eren bites the inside of his jaw; you’re going to have to stop doing that before he jumps you again.

Better now than never, he supposes. He tries to shake his nerves when he takes your hands in his, completely covering them with his palms, and closes his eyes. Despite that, you try to offer him comfort, squeezing his fingers as best you can; and Eren takes that moment to thank his lucky stars for whoever decided to put you in his life. Because he knows that no matter what, even if he royally fucks this up, you’ll find some way to be there for him.

He slowly blinks his eyes open again, gaze resting on the ring around your neck. A faded chuckle escapes his lips when looks at it. The only one who got the wrong idea about his gift was you. But, he supposes that’s his fault; he never did explain it, after all.

“It’s nothing… It’s just that, I’m in—”

But Eren’s startled by a voice that makes him freeze. He almost wants to believe he misheard it, but he can hear the telltale clacking of vintage heels on the floor of the bakery and he knows that he didn’t mishear a thing.

Eren turns his head, and sure enough, there is his mother, in all her five foot glory, adorned in designer clothing from her beret to her shoes. With a fucking street urchin on her arm.

“Well, well, well, what a lovely surprise,” Carla beams, red lipstick perfectly in place even after a long day of wear.

Eren’s eyebrows draw together, as he takes in his mother and her fiancé standing in front of him. He can just barely register you calling out towards her, carefully maneuvering yourself off of his lap, and into the neighboring chair; but still keeping your right hand wrapped around his left. He can feel you squeeze it—whether to give him comfort, or warning, he’s not sure yet; probably both.

“It’s so good to see you!” you beam, excitedly offering her and Mitchell a seat across from the two of you at the table. Eren opens his mouth to refute, but you squeeze his hand again; a warning.

Carla leans forward to encase you in a hug, exchanging cheek kisses, and leaving Eren to stare at the street rat across from him. Mitchell seems to know better than to make eye contact with him, irises scattering from Carla’s back to the décor of the bakery while the two girls catch up.

“We missed you at the rehearsal dinner on Sunday,” Carla recounts, eyes fluttering to Eren’s briefly. One look into her son’s eyes, and she understands why; one look into his mother’s eyes, and Eren knows she has him all figured out. “I was worried you might not show at all.”

Eren strategically averts your gaze when you turn your head towards him, choosing to look at his mother instead.

“I didn’t even know there was a rehearsal dinner,” you tell her, tone polite, but Eren can hear the clear jab directed towards him, “I’m sorry, I—we would have gone, otherwise.”

“No need to apologize, darling,” Carla smiles, “I’m sure you two were very busy.”

“We were,” Eren cuts in, words definite. He sees a hint of surprise flash in his mother’s eyes briefly, expertly covered up with her sweet demeanor. She only nods in understanding, sitting back a bit to wrap her arm around Mitchell’s.

“What are you even doing here, Ma?” Eren questions, even as you do the same with his hands under the table, “Isn’t it bad luck to see the groom before the wedding.”

“After the third or fourth wedding, you grow tired of pleasantries and superstitions, my love,” she replies, “This place makes Mitchell’s favorite macarons, we thought we’d share a few before the big day. Maybe get some tea as a pre-celebration.”

The topic of sweets has you speaking up once again, engaging both his mother and Mitchell in a discussion about them, and your other findings from bakery hopping earlier. If Eren didn’t love you to pieces, he would have left the table a long time ago.

It carries on much longer than he can bear to endure; almost an hour of you, and his mother, and Mitchell making pleasant conversation while he tries his best not to brood beside you, but it’s futile. He feels like a little kid again. Stuck at the dinner table with his mother and a man he was being forced to get to know, only for him to become a stranger to him in a matter of months.

Eren grinds his teeth into each other when you laugh at something Mitchell says. He’s not going to sit through his any longer; or ever again.

“Well, this has been fun,” Eren says, voice blatantly monotonous as his cuts through the conversation, “But we should all probably head back go to bed. Big day tomorrow.”

“Eren, we should—” but, he stands up quickly, hand wrapping around yours to force you upwards too.

He doesn’t care to look at you, knowing the dissatisfied expression he’ll be met with. He fishes for his wallet and pulls out too many Euros, neatly tucking them under an unused knife to pay for the meal.

Eren’s steps out from between his chair and the table. “We’ll see you guys tomorr—” But is stopped before he can take three steps away.

His mother’s hand wrapped around his wrist. She stands, significantly shorter than Eren’s full height. “Actually, Eren, could I borrow you for a bit?”

And he doesn’t want to, because he knows exactly the conversation waiting for him. But he looks down at her, lets his eyes flicker to you, and back to her, and he knows he doesn’t have the heart to walk away. Not even if he tried.

He sighs with a shallow nod. He can feel your hand on his shoulder, the proud smile on your lips when you tell him that you’ll meet him back at your hotel. Mitchell ensures him and Carla that he’ll make sure you get back safely, and Eren still can’t stand the guy, but he’s grateful that he can at least be of use for something.

Eren kisses you on the forehead briefly, a promise to you and himself that he’ll finish his confession later. After all, he probably should come to terms with the woman who taught him what love is before he vowed to love you for the rest of his life.

The walk to his mother’s hotel is silent, Eren choosing to keep to himself, hands stuffed in his pockets to prevent his mom from holding them. He’s probably acting like a child, but isn’t that what he is to her; isn’t that she treats him as.

“Look, Ma, you don’t need my approval to marry him,” Eren grumbles, when they finally exit the elevator into the hotel room, “It doesn’t matter to me.”

“Of course I don’t,” Carla offers him a small grin, even if he won’t look at her directly, “But it matters to me.”

“Why does it matter now? It didn’t matter with Keith, or Henry, or Henri with an I, or any of the others,” Eren mumbles, reluctantly taking a seat on the stool opposite the vanity.

His mother tracks his movements with soft eyes and an amused grin as Eren absentmindedly bends a knee and begins to fiddle with the hem of his pants. Just like he used to when he was upset as a child.

“It mattered then, too, Eren,” she tells him, sitting on the stool and facing him.

He’s surprised by her words, his wide eyes giving him away even if he attempts to act unfazed. “It didn’t seem like it.”

Carla opens her mouth to speak, but closes it, words stuck in her throat. She watches Eren’s hunched figure, her tall son not even bothering to look her in the eyes. She exhales slowly; if he were five feet smaller, he’d have tucked himself under her arm, still refusing to look at her, but he’d have snuggled his head into her side while he pouted anyway.

“I suppose it didn’t,” she admits, “In the end, the love wasn’t enough to make it last, then.”

Eren is quiet for a bit at that, pulling at his pants leg. “And… and you love him enough, now?”

“It’s more than love, Eren. It’s... happiness—for yourself and another person—it’s being okay with somebody knowing you now, and forever. Whichever version of you that is.”

“Then why did you marry them before?” Eren asks, “If you knew it wasn’t enough, if you knew it was just going to end up as another big mistake.”

“Maybe the marriages were a mistake, and some of what came with them, but I don’t think the feelings were,” Carla muses, “Love is never wasted.”

“How can you say that?” Eren questions, disbelief and exasperation painted on his face, “Of course it is—you wasted your time, and your money, and your—your everything on those people who couldn’t care less about you now!”

“Eren—”

“You let them into our house,” Eren speaks over her, “You let them into your life, and they left. They always left—”

“Eren—”

“—And you even let some of them come back! Everyone, you let everyone have another chance, another anniversary, another wedding,” He’s ranting, crying, hot, irrational tears streaming down his face; hiccups interrupting his speech, “So—so, so if it’s not wasted and everyone gets another chance and another chance and another chance—why didn’t he come back, huh? For his?”

Eren’s standing now, arms flailing every which way during his breakdown, but his mother doesn’t try to stop him. She lets him continue, hears him out.

“If it’s love—if it’s not wasted, and it’s real—then why didn’t he come back? Why didn’t he want to? Why—why didn’t he want me? Why did I end up the bastard?”

Eren looks his mother in the eyes for the first time in the duration of their conversation with that final question; with his vision blurry, and chest heaving, and cheeks wet. Carla has no words to say; can only carefully open her arms, and wait for her son to come crashing into them. And he does; and it rains and pours, and Eren holds onto his mother for dear life, and onto the pieces of her breaking heart.

“Am I not good enough to have that kind of love?” Eren asks through tears, “Am I not special enough to want to know?”

“Eren,” she finally speaks, moving to cradle his head in her hands, “You don’t have to be special or good, to be known or loved. It’s enough that you were born. That’s enough to make you deserving of love.”

She doesn’t mind the tears against her palms or the hiccups of Eren’s breathing, “And you already have it.”

And Eren looks at her with eyes wide and wild like a child, staring at the first person to have ever loved someone as messed up, and plain, and ordinary as him; and he can feel more tears bubbling at his eyes.

“Ma, I’m—I’m so sorry,” he chokes out, wrapping his arms around her even tighter, chin resting on her shoulder while his shake through his tears, “I’m so fucking sorry.”

Carla hugs her son as close as she can, like he’s five years old and the apple of her eye and she can take all his pain away. “You don’t have to be. You’re my son, and I’ll love you always.”

It feels like they have all the time in the world like that, to hug and cry and apologize; but Carla hopes Eren knows that he was always forgiven; that he never had anything to apologize for in the first place.

“She loves you, too, baby,” she coos, holding Eren as tight as possible, “But you have to let her know that. That you accept it.”

“Do you think she knows?” Eren asks, words muffled into the fabric of her clothing, “That I love her, too?”

“I do,” Carla confirms, pulling away to look at Eren in the eyes; his beautiful, shining, green eyes, “But I don’t think that either of you really realized it. I mean, you did give her an engagement ring, darling.”

Eren huffs at the memory, “She thought it was a gift.”

“Because you gave it to her as a gift.”

“I thought it was pretty obvious.”

“Love has a way of making people blind,” Carla muses, “Especially two lovesick semi-adults with too much money on their hands.”

Eren’s cheeks grow pink at the accusation, “It’s your money!”

“Yes, and I’m very happy to have it,” Carla chuckles, motioning for Eren to stand up. He does, and she looks up at him with glimmering, proud eyes. “Now, go, shoo. You have a girl to propose to, don’t you? There might be two Jaeger weddings this weekend.”

Eren nods, certain of himself for the first time in a while. He turns on his heel with a vigor igniting his footsteps, but pauses when he reaches the elevator. He makes a sharp turn, running back to his mom one last time, and squeezing her suddenly, and tightly against him.

“I love you, mom,” he says; the words too foreign on his tongue, and he vows to not let them be a stranger to his vocabulary from here on out.

“I love, you, too, Eren,” Carla calmly wraps her arms around her son one last time, “And I always will.”

You half-expected your walk back to your hotel with Mitchell to be painfully awkward, but he proves to be a pleasant conversationalist, even in Carla’s absence.

You know that Eren isn’t fond of him, but you wish that he would at least give him a chance. There’s no way to know if a marriage—if any relationship—will last forever, but, sometimes, you think it’s not about knowing about forever; but, rather about wanting it to make it there; about willing to go the distance with that person.

You can see that want, that willingness that works alongside love in Mitchell and Carla’s relationship, that stands out from her past marriages. You get the feeling they’re going to last; and that, most importantly, they both want it to, too.

It’s quiet out as you both walk the streets of Paris, Mitchell taking the time to point out small notes in architecture that interest you. You readjust your jacket as a gust of wind washes over you, careful to make sure your necklace doesn’t snag against your clothing.

“That’s a beautiful ring,” he calls to you gently.

“Thank you,” Surprised, you quickly let out an embarrassed cough, looking down to your left hand resting atop the uppermost button on your coat. “It was a gift.”

“I meant that one,” Mitchell corrects, carefully gesturing to his own neck to indicate that he was talking about the ring on your necklace, and not the one on your finger.

“Oh, thank you,” you repeat, “That one was actually a gift, too.”

The older man hums, continuing your walk to your hotel. “Must have been one hell of a gift. I don’t know many people who give out engagement rings as presents.”

“Oh, no, no, no, it wasn’t—it’s not an engagement ring,” you tell him, feeling a warmth creep up your cheeks even in the chilly atmosphere of the night, “Eren gave it to me, actually, a few years ago—it was a Christmas gift.”

“Eren, huh?” Mitchell smiles fondly, “That makes sense. Carla tells me how much he cares about you.”

“You—she does?” you stutter. Mitchell nods. “I—I mean, I care about him, too.”

“Enough to accept an engagement ring from him, it seems,” Mitchell taunts, “I’m no specialist, but I know a Harry Winston piece when I see it. They’re not cheap.”

“Trust me, I know,” you scoff, “I almost killed him when I saw how much he spent on it.”

“And you took it, anyway?”

“Well, he—he was supposed to return it,” you defend yourself, “Because I didn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea! But he just, well, he gave me the other one instead, so I wear that one on my hand.”

Mitchell pauses, just as you both stand to the entrance of your hotel. “And what was the wrong idea you didn’t want people getting.”

“That... that...,” you pause, thinking back to that Christmas day.

Even though Eren is known for spending ludacris amounts of money, the ring came as a genuine surprise to you. A couple thousand on shoes, sure—you’re victim to that yourself; a couple hundred thousand on a lavish vacation wasn’t out of the ordinary, either; but a million, maybe even more, on a ring that you could have only ever asked of him in your dreams was another thing completely.

And, sure, even a few million didn’t mean much to you or Eren at the end of the day, but it wasn’t just the price; it was the object of the money, too. To accept a house, or a car, or a jet for that amount is something you could rationalize; but a ring seemed foreign, and far out of your league.

Then there was the display and value it held beyond money. It’s beautiful, gorgeous, but more than that, it’s tailored to your exact liking. The synthesis of your aesthetic and everything you could ask for, garnished with the memory of Eren in the very design; the diamonds you love, the flowers that remind him of you, and the way they stems wrap around each other and the petals meet in the middle.

A small gasp leaves your lips and instinctively, you reach to clutch the ring in your hold. There was no way this was an engagement ring... Eren hadn’t proposed to you when he gave it to you—in fact, he was so casual about it, that it had you stunned that he hadn’t thought to consider that other people might think it meant something more than what he intended it to be.

But, looking back, it seems like you’re the only one who didn’t understand what was going on. Because Eren told you, even then, that he’d wanted you forever; you didn’t know how to hear him. It was all right there—not just in the ring, but in all his gifts, in the entirety of your friendship.

Eren loves you, more than you could ever know.

“It’s an engagement ring,” you say aloud, but more to yourself than to Mitchell, “Oh my god, it’s an engagement ring.”

Mitchell can’t do anything but smile at your revelation. You’re practically bouncing off the walls, connecting the puzzle pieces of your relationship in the middle of the street at damn near midnight, but you don’t care; because it finally feels right, and it finally, finally all makes sense.

“He, but he never pro—oh my fucking god, I’m going to kill him.”

You feel elated and confused and happy and murderous all at once. Eren wanted to marry you; Eren loved you. He wants you for the rest of his life, and you’ve been too blind to see it this entire time.

Still, you think that maybe a verbal proposal might have helped to open your eyes a bit.

“Mitchell, I have to—”

You’re cut off by the echo of your name coming from the opposite end of the street, and you can just barely make out of Eren’s figure in the faded lights of the street lamps. His name falls from your lips like a whisper, and you hardly register Mitchell’s amused, soft laughter from beside you.

“I think that’s my cue,” he says, patting you on the shoulder, “I better get back to Carla. Something tells me you two have a bit to talk about.”

You can barely nod at him, eye still wide and stunned, but a smile on your face even in your fearful anticipation. You don’t have time to thank him before he turns away, bidding you goodnight; and then you have something else to focus on, as Eren’s footsteps grow louder, and his silhouette grows sharper the closer he gets to you.

He practically crashes into you, chest heaving, hair wind-swept and wild from his running. He puts his hands on your shoulders, to steady himself physically and mentally, labored breaths ghosting over the top of your head.

“Hi,” he finally squeaks; and that stupid, big, dopey grin is on his face.

It’s ridiculous, so utterly ridiculous that you can’t help but greet him back. The two of you stand there, smiling like fools for god knows how long, before the realization strikes you for a second time.

Eren opens his mouth to finally speak, but a pained squeal leaves his lips instead as he feels the back of your hand slap his chest. “Ouch—hey, what was that for!”

“What the hell do you think you were doing proposing to me without telling me?” you screech, packing another punch to his chest for good measure, but it’s a poor barrier and does nothing to stop your tears from falling, “You’re an idiot, I should kill you for this, you know that, Eren Jaeger?”

Eren laughs softly, only to be heard by you in close proximity. He takes your offending hand in his, and reaches for your other, pulling both of them between your bodies. He can feel tears welling in his own eyes, as he looks down at the necklace, glimmering perfectly under the moonlight.

“In my defense, the first thing you told me to do when I gave it to you was to return it.”

“I might not have said that if you told me what it meant,” you can hardly choke out a laugh through your tears; and Eren can’t stop his from falling either, “It’s insane, you know. This whole thing—to ask me to marry you at 19. For me to not realize until we’re 21.”

“I know,” Eren agrees, inching closer even though there’s barely any room between you, “I know. But I know I love you, every version of you. I always have, I always will.”

You close your eyes as Eren’s hands move to your face, gingerly sweeping your tears away from your cheeks. He feels too close, it feels like too much; but you don’t want him to move.

“You know... if you had asked me, then,” you start, blinking your eyes open with a sniffle; you’re met with Eren’s emerald greens one with far too much hope and love glimmering in them, “I—I don’t even know what I would have said.”

“And if I asked you now?”

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, slowly raising your hands to wrap around Eren’s wrist, and lower them to your neck, before looking at him again, “Ask me.”

Eren blinks, carefully trailing his hands up and around your neck, nimble fingers undoing the clasp of your necklace. He hardly lets the chain pool into his hand before it’s tossed aside, and the ring is still between his thumbs and index fingers as he lowers himself on to one knee.

“You are the love of my life, and there’s not a single version of life—a single version of you, or me—where I don’t want to be with you forever,” Eren says, “And you know how shit I am with my words, but I fucking mean it. I swear to you, that I’ll do my best every day to show you how much you mean to me; marry me, and I’ll prove it to you, I swear, I will.”

Your lips are wobbling at Eren’s confession below you, and you can just barely beckon him upwards in your state. He’s hardly back on two feet before you’re pulling him against you, ghosting the word “yes” on his lips before you kiss him.

You both melt into the kiss, Eren’s hands skillfully cupping your cheeks, while he keeps the ring in his hold and bruises your lips together.

“You don’t have to prove it to me, Eren,” you assure him, hand shaking when you pull apart and let him slip the ring onto your finger—where it belongs, “You already have.”

For his first birthday as a married man, Eren requested something intimate. He wanted just a small celebration with all of your mutual friends, some good food, alcohol, and lots of fun.

Supposedly simple and intimate for him entailed renting out the top floor of the Whitney, which was currently encasing an exhibit portraying some kind of abstract modern art that allowed for a very drunk Eren and Armin have to entertain themselves by trying their best to recreate the paintings using very flawed couples aerial yoga.

The art, paired with the dimmed lighting, Jean’s choice selection of overtly sexual music, and Eren’s pick of overpriced champagne also meant that Marco, Bertholdt, Connie, and Sasha found everything ten times funnier than they were—which meant they were a million times louder than usual.

Jean stands next to you by the bar, watching as Eren attempts to hold Armin above his head by holding on to just his waist. They’re unsuccessful, of course, resulting in both boys toppling onto the ground as the majority of their older friends laugh along.

“Lucky me, I get to take him home at the end of the night,” you drawl, turning to the bartender to order another drink.

She smiles, easily preparing your martini and sliding it you with an inquiry. “That’s your boyfriend? The tall one with the brown hair?”

“No,” you sigh, eyes closed for a moment before taking the glass between your fingers. “That’s my husband, unfortunately.”

× even more notes: this fic. is my baby. it’s been a draft of mine for over two years at this point. it’s gone through various fandoms but i’ve never quite been able to complete and post it, so i’m very happy that it’s finally here! i hope you all enjoyed, and i just wanted to say that i’m glad to finally have been able to share this with you all!

#attack on titan #aot x reader #snk x reader #eren x reader #aot imagines #snk imagines #eren smut #eren fluff #levi x reader #I DONT WANNA TALK ABOUT IT

5K notes · View notes

1994sunflower · 3 years ago

Note

hey! i was wondering if you could write on where they f*ck whilst on a call with the rest of the band and they tease her?

I hope I did this request justice it was sosososo hot to think about.

in which ashton and calum listen

Michael declined the ringing phone for nearly the fifth time in only a span of a few minutes. He did it without thinking about it, frustration more than anything bubbling up as he didn’t even bother looking at who was calling him or wondering why they were doing so so much. It didn’t matter.

Not when you were looking up at him doe-eyed with his cock in your mouth. You had paused, a twinkle of annoyance in your eyes at the disruption. Sucking your boyfriend’s big cock was always enjoyable and always left you dripping wet and moving your hips against the air behind you from how turned on you were, how much more you wanted. But not when you were interrupted every few minutes. You always stopped, just to give him space to answer if he wanted, you always thought of him. But he just pushed your head down to take him further again like he had done all the past times his phone rang.

“Suck.” He commanded you to continue.

Michael’s tattooed hand tangled in your hair and took a hold of it roughly, almost painfully but all you did was let out a moan around him and feel your pussy clench emptily. Your boyfriend bucked his hips almost imperceptibly at the vibration of your sound before he pushed your head down, forcing you to take him completely until you gagged around his length. By the groan and silent fuck, yeah, love your mouth so much he let out as he threw his head back to fall against the wall behind him, you were sure that was his goal.

Michael was sitting on his bed, his back against the wall the head of his bed was on. For once, he was the naked one as his legs spread enough to fit your small body between them. You were still fully clothed but on your knees on his mattress and bent over, ass in the air, to be level with his crotch. Your hand was fisting the part of his cock you couldn’t fit inside your mouth, though not being able to wrap your hand fully around his girth. But somehow, seeing your small hand and mouth failing to be able to take all of him, how big he was in every sense of the word compared to you, just made him twitch in your warm, wet mouth.

You had begun bobbing your mouth up and down along his length again, sucking him eagerly and letting your tongue flatly lick the underside of his shaft and kiss his tip. Your hands twisted around his base as his hand tightened its hold in your hair as you moaned around him. His groans, eyes closed as he focused completely on the pleasure his good little girlfriend was giving him, and sometimes breathy praises keeping you going animately. Until his phone rang again.

You whined as you pulled yourself off of him with a lewd popping sound and a strand of spit connecting your lips to his bulbous tip. And as he stared at that erotic scene in front of him, he wanted to break something for being denied you.

“Who is it?” You pouted, like a child being denied her favorite toy. Your hand, still around him, moved along his dick, jerking him off almost distractedly as you waited just to finally be able to take him in your mouth again like you were practically drooling for.

You already missed his size in your mouth, having to open wide to adjust to it, the feeling of his sensitive skin, twitching and hardened, and the pleasured sounds you could arouse from him.

Michael growled in frustration, his eyes telling you just how angry he was at the disruption to his enjoyment. It was the same cold and angry look many poor souls saw right before getting beat up. For the first time, he picked up the phone that was laid next to him and actually looked at the Caller ID.

“It’s fucking Ashton.” His voice was gruff. He was going to murder his best friend. If it was anyone else he might’ve already started making plans as to how. His finger was already hovering over the decline button, having half a mind to turn it off completely when he tugged you closer to his shaft again. Already missing the warmth of your mouth and the feeling of your breath against his sensitivity. “Just keep-”

“Answer it. Maybe it’s important.” He wasn’t sure how to tell you that there was little much of anything else he considered more important than having his girlfriend suck him off right then and there.

But he only mumbled before swiping to accept the call. If he didn’t, you’d be worried like the sweetheart you were and besides, he never could deny you.

It didn’t mean he’d be happy about it. He put his phone on speaker and held it up just a few inches away from his mouth. “What the fuck do you want? You better have a good fucking reason for calling me right now.”

He saw the way you frowned at his meanness but he ignored your look, he could only be so good before he reached his limit. His mind was still focused on the way you still pumped him; he was still so hard.

“Okay, geez dude. Sorry!” Ashton didn’t sound sorry at all, actually. “Not like we haven’t been waiting for you for the past twenty minutes or anything.”

Michael wasn’t sure what he meant by that. But he did know that if his too-kind girlfriend’s mind started to wonder too, then you’d feel so bad about distracting him from whatever meeting his friends thought they had together that you’d stop completely. And he couldn’t allow that. Not when he hasn’t even cum yet.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He answered, half paying attention as he took a hold of your arm, pulling your body so that you were completely bent over again, your mouth just inches from his tip.

You were gazing at him with uncertainty, no doubt thinking about the fact that he was still talking to Ashton and how impolite it would be to disrupt his conversation with his friends. Especially at how embarrassing it would be should you be caught. But Michael couldn’t give less of a shit, his priorities were set. Whether it was impolite or whether Ashton or Calum would know what was going on or not.

Michael just ran his fingers in your hair, hoping to relax you a little, to silently tell you it was okay and to just continue what Michael so deeply wanted you to. Just like he was weak for you, you were helpless but to do what you both wanted.

Your mouth took him in again, paying special attention to his tip, kissing and licking at it especially before wrapping your tempting lips around him entirely. The pleasure was almost dizzying. So good. He almost felt his hips twitch when you hallowed your cheeks. His eyes closed again involuntarily, so utterly at peace with the feeling of your tongue on him as you did your best to fit most of him in your mouth. Almost forgetting he was on a call. Not really caring once he did remember. His girl was the only thing on his mind.

He almost couldn’t process it when Ashton scoffed, “Bullshit. I reminded you this morning before I left.”

Michael’s eyebrows furrowed in genuine confusion before Calum spoke up, voice just as loud as Ashton meaning they were sitting right next to each other. “We were going to pre-game before the party at my frat? Ring a bell? You said you were down.”

There was a vague memory in Michael’s mind of Ashton telling him something about that, about not forgetting, that it was tonight. He remembered nodding dismissively, he wouldn’t forget. But he also remembered how easily that all left his mind the moment you arrived, bouncy and beautiful as always. With a mischievous glint in your eyes that he always felt giddy at seeing because it was so rare for you, knowing what was to come, what you would be whining for. And he was never one to deny you anything.

The slurping and filthy gawking sounds that came each time you sucked and moved up and down on his shaft were growing both in number and volume the more into it you got. Even some of the moans that accidentally escaped you at how much you loved to have your boyfriend’s cock in your mouth.

The sudden silence coming from the other end of the line should have been enough to tell Michael that his activities were being discovered. But either Michael didn’t notice or didn’t care. He never moved to take himself off speaker. But he took notice when you grew alarmed and shy at being caught at something so personal and lewd. His hand went to the top of your head, a silent way to tell you not to stop.

He let out an unashamed groan, “I’m not going. Y/N came over.”

Honestly, with what Calum and Ashton were imagining right then, they couldn’t blame him.

“Fuck dude, are you-?”

As if to answer the unfinished question, Michael thrusted up into your throat enough for the gagging sound to reach the speakers on his phone, enjoying the feeling of you choking around him. But it really wasn’t with that goal in mind. Your newly tentative movements, due to you being very aware of possibly being caught, had slowed you down much more than Michael wanted.

But Michael had no problem taking control when needed. His hand was pulling you up and down onto his length by your hair. Thrusting up into you with the rhythm he put upon you, his head thrown back, eyes closed at the pleasure. Feeling your fingers press against his naked thighs was enough for him to shiver. By the time he had both of his hands in your hair, keeping you still, you were already whimpering against him. Apparently your pretty little mind had glazed over the fact that he was still very much on the call, forgetting the shyness that had taken over you a few second ago. That Calum and Ashton were still very much listening.

“Fuck, that’s it. Just like that.” Michael’s rough voice praised, strained because of the pleasure, made it clear he didn’t care either. It wasn’t like it was the first time they’d heard you two go at it. “That’s my girl, take my fucking cock.”

His hips began to thrust into your small throat, perfectly molded to fit his cock, and only his. He had trained your throat for that. He thrust deep, hearing you gag and feeling your throat close around him with each time his tip reached the back of your throat. He kept himself there, pushing your head down deeper, forcing himself further back in your throat. It was sadistic and he could hear your muffled sounds and the tears prickling your eyes but as you looked up at him through your lashes, holding onto him tighter and your hips swinging behind you, he knew you were just fine to be like that. His toy to fuck.

When he finally relented, letting you pull away enough just to breath, he heard the choking, stuttering breath you took. His cock was dripping with your spit but that didn’t deter you from moaning around him as you savored the taste of him and his pre-cum when you deep throated him again.

It was then that Calum and Ashton seemed to get past the shock and dry throats. It was hot. To imagine you, sweet and gentle you who they knew was too small to take anything of Michael’s easily, doing something so dirty while being treated so roughly had them hard just hearing it. Imagining it.

“Shit, is she sucking you off right now?” Calum’s voice came through the nearly forgotten phone at his side and Michael couldn’t help the pride in his eyes as he looked down at your tiny figure in between his legs doing just that.

He yanked at your hair roughly, pulling you off of him enough for him, and his friends over the phone, to be able to hear you whimper, lips against the head of his cock. You almost looked pathetic. And he felt his almost painful hard-on at the sight.

Michael looked at you when he spoke directly to his friends, “Yeah. She lets me fuck her throat like a fucking slut, too. She’s so good with her mouth.”

“I bet, if it sounded like that” Both Calum and Ashton groaned in unison, they really couldn’t blame Michael for bailing on their plans now.

Somehow, hearing all three of them talk about you like you weren’t even there had your pussy trembling even more than before. Your smile was broken from the rough way he had taken your mouth but you still obeyed him when he tapped your lips with the head of his dick. Opening your mouth and taking him to the hilt, until your nose touched his abdomen before you pulled back and did it all over again.

You barely heard the mumbled good girl from his lip. But it wasn’t until you heard Ashton’s voice that you froze, as if reminded that you were being listened to. All the dirty things you had just done, were done in front of an audience.

“Didn't know your girl was so needy.” His usually friendly and sweet tone suddenly sounded teasing and demeaning. “I probably should’ve though. Always the ones that pretend they’re so innocent that like it rough.”

Michael smirked down at you, his eyes never leaving yours making it known how purposely he chose his words. “You should hear what she’s like when I’m inside her.”

Your entire body burned. You wanted more, needed more. Just like you did when you arrived to his home, horny and needy. When he told you to get on your knees and work for it, though you had already been crawling towards him on the bed.

Now driven by the hitches of breath you hear over the phone, their silent groans. You didn’t care anymore that his friends were listening to how much of a whore you were, listen to each lewd sound of you sucking off your boyfriend or even more. Maybe it was a testament to his corruption of your pure person, to one who cared only about him, and getting fucked by him, to care about modesty - someone who delighted in the thought of others being witness to just how good you were for your boyfriend and just how good he made you feel.

When you released him from your mouth, you were sure your wetness was dripping all over his sheets.

“Daddy,” you whimpered, your soft cheek resting against his hard dick, looking up at him with begging eyes, “please.”

Neither could deny the way their hands went to palm themselves through their pants at the sound of you so softly, high pitched, called your boyfriend such a dominant title. You heard a chuckle from the phone followed by a mocking laugh.

“Aww, she’s begging. How cute.”

“Just fuck her, mate. Put her out of her misery.”

Maybe you should be pouting at their teasing but if it got your boyfriend to stretch you open, you welcomed the sting of humiliation that followed their words. Being seen as nothing but a fucktoy at the moment.

Sharing this intimate moment with you was only because they were his best friends. It was the only reason he’d given them this glimpse that they should be honored to be guests to. But one he was using not so subtly to boast, how lucky he was to have you, how only he could give you pleasure. That you were his, sucking his dick, fucking him. No one else could have you. Even them, no matter how close he let them get. No matter how much they wanted to.

Michael looked almost arrogant when he took you by the back of your thighs, pushing you up until you were stranding up. Enough for your clothed pussy to rub against his cock. The sensation was enough for you to start grinding on him. You’d waited for so long, you couldn’t even remember how long you’d been blowing him before the phone rang. There was still spit on your chin to prove it.

You yelped when you felt him spank you but his eyes showed almost no emotion which caused you to clench your walls. He looked so hot under you, the tattoos on his upper body under your hands and his dick erect for you. “Let them hear how good you can ride me, little one.”

His thick fingers pushed your panties to the side just enough for you to sink down on him. You were so wet, he slid in with ease despite your tight walls. Especially excited at the rare opportunity to ride him. A satisfied moan left you, eyes almost rolling to the back of your head at the feeling of being split open by his thickness. Finally.

Michael stayed laying down, gazing up at his girlfriend, looking so little as she bounced on his lap feverishly. Groans left him as he let you set the pace, pleasuring yourself using him. But despite you being on top, it was very clear who was in charge by the bruising grip he had on your hips as he helped you move up and down his length. You were so small, even the width of your body was only half of his broad one.

The sound of skin slapping echoed throughout the room each time your thighs met when you sheathed him entirely inside of your drooling cunt. Your skirt was pushed up, around your waist worthlessly, giving Michael a clear view of where you were connected.

“So-ngh-so good, Mikey. Feels so good.” You were babbling on him, your back arching. Breaths coming out short. Every once in a while, you ground against him, swiveling your hips. “Y-you fuck me so good. Love your big cock, daddy, feel so full!”

“Fuck, she is a slut.” You weren’t even thinking straight with how dizzy the pleasure made you to recognize who said it. But you weren’t out of it enough not to hear the ‘slicking’ sounds over the phone that made it clear Ashton and Calum had given up modesty with each other and were pumping their cocks to the hot sounds of you getting fucked by their friend. Which just made you move your hips faster.

“Hear that?” Michael grunted out as you kept riding him. “They can hear how much of a fucking cock hungry whore you are.”

You were shaking your head at his words, whining as if to deny them but you kept moaning and riding him faster, clamping down on him with your walls, suffocating him in the best way. You felt each drag of his cock against you. He moved you forward by your hips to heighten the delicious sensation of feeling you against and around him, hissing. “You’re so fucking tight.”

It was only when you leaned down, your face just a few inches away from Michael’s so that your hips were what moved his cock in and out of you that Michael saw the large blush adorning your face.

He sat up without you expecting it. The only reason you didn’t fall was because of his arm that wrapped around your waist. Your small hands landed on his strong, tattooed shoulders instinctively.

Even on his lap, straddling him while still grinding on his cock, Michael was taller than you. It was instinctive when you opened your mouth and let him slowly, sensually, let a glob of his spit drop onto your tongue. You almost moaned when you swallowed it but the gentleness ended when he spit in you again, faster this time and you felt a sharp slap to your cheek following it.

You distinctly heard the curses that left the phone at the visuals they imagined of Michael slapping you around, manhandling you in whichever way he pleases.

“Don’t tell me you’re getting shy. After showing them how much of a messy cockslut you are. Fucking me during a phone call…dirty fucking girl. Can’t think of anything except daddy’s cock. You like that they’re listening to how good I fuck you, don’t you?” Then his grip on your waist tightened enough for him to start thrusting up into you. Hammering into your poor little cunt at a rough, fast pace - even more so than the one you had set for yourself. He groaned deeply. You cried out, gasping and writhing in his arms as he pounded into you mercilessly. Broken sentences were the only thing that could leave your mouth. You felt him so deep inside you.

You already felt that heat in your belly, the sign of your release keeping up on you as your big boyfriend used your body. It felt so good, the pleasure you had been vying for all day. The way you tightened around him, hips stuttering was enough to tell Michael you had cum, along with how much wetter you’d gotten, your cum mixed in with each thrust as he continued pummeling into you within stopping. It’d been building up for so long, you couldn’t be blamed for cumin so quickly.

The back of your thighs and his were drenched. But your scream was enough to tell Ashton and Calum know how you had creamed all over Michael’s dick. Their hands moved faster as they jerked themselves off, their minds focused on you.

You couldn’t even think coherently, your eyes half closed and mouth open to stream out moans. Let alone being able to wrap your mind around Michael handing you his phone and pushing it up to your ears, off of speaker but loud enough that he, so close to you in position, could still hear the two boys at the other end of the line. His hips still thrusting into you, so deep that he bottomed out into you each time.

“Tell them what I’m doing to you.”

And then it was your moans being filtered directly to them, the distant sound of slapping skin the only other thing Calum and Ashton could hear as you bounced up and down on his fat cock.

It was embarrassing, especially being able to hear Ashton and Calum’s groans, knowing they were witnessing this weak, dirty part of you so different from how they usually saw you. Your breath hitched.

But it was Calum’s sweet voice, drenched in a gravelly arousal, that you heard first, “Go on. Tell us how good you’re getting fucked in front of us.”

You didn’t answer right away - you couldn’t. It was too much. Hearing his voice in that moment, commanding you to follow your boyfriend’s orders. Knowing that you had him weak just with your sounds. It was a thrill. And your face was fucked out at the feeling of the circumstances as you moaning as you were racked by Michael’s rough thrusts. Your submission so cute to watch, and hear, unfold.

Your hand could barely hold onto his phone, fit for his larger hand not your trembling one. “H-He’s fucking m-my pussy so deep. C-Can’t—so rough. Gonna cum again.”

You sounded as fucked out as you looked.

Ashton spoke next, sounding almost amused with your inability to work your brain while being stuffed with your boyfriend’s dick. “Yeah? Feels good?”

Your sounds of agreement were muffled. “S-Sososo good. Mikey’s so big! He’s stretching me open. H-He always makes me feel so good, only he can fuck me. My pussy is his. I’m his. Only a slut for him.”

You were cut off by your own squeals; as if to reward your words that made Michael feel so boastful and powerful, he raised the shirt that was still on your body. Until it uncovered your bra-covered tits to him. Even then he just roughly pulled up your bra, not bothering to even remove it. Just enough to give him access toy our bare chest, jiggling up and down with his sharp thrusts. He all but smothered his face as he encased his mouth around your nipple.

All you could do was arch your back, pushing your tits further into his mouth and his head further into them. One of your hands went to hold the back of his head gently to hold him there as you took pleasure as he sucked your tits while his arm around you pushed you as deeply and closer into him as possible.

“Yes.” You clenched around him at the sensation, as if to force his thick cock to stay inside you, so tightly Michael’s drilling into you grew slower as he fought against your walls. But eventually, he picked up his pace again. Until you could barely breathe with how fast he was fucking up into you, his pace bruising and his cock hitting the spots that had you weak. You barely heard his growl of Mine against your skin. His tongue swirling against your tits, biting at them gently.

It was so hot.

For the second time, you could feel the tension again as your release crawled closer. Your moans were louder than before, this time directly into the phone speaker not that you had any trace of bashfulness anymore.

“Fuck listen to her.” Calum said, you could practically hear the breathy way he talked. His head thrown back as his hips thrusted into his own palm, desperately imagining the way your hips would move, the way your cunt would be soaked. His hand tightened around himself to mimic your tightness. “You sound so fucking hot.”

He was only saying that because Michael couldn’t hear him. He had to make do with teasing you with his words, making you feel exactly what you were doing to him. And that’s just what his words did. You whined, grinding into Michael desperately at the praise.

“Bet you look so pretty like that.” Ashton said as he spit on his palm before returning his hand to his cock, “Riding a cock that’s too big for you. Like letting yourself be used like a fucking toy, don’t you?”

“Michael!” You moaned out his name even as you listened to his friend’s words through the phone. You were so close.

But Ashton wasn’t done. “You’d feel so fucking good, so tight. Michael was right. Such a needy slut, fucking her boyfriend in front of his best friends and liking it. Making him miss his plans.”

“And here we-fuck-thought you were such a good girl, smiling and innocent.” Ashton’s hand moved faster against himself.

You were whimpering at his words, at his teasing. “I’m s—orry. I-I didn’t mean t-to.” You slurred, “Just needed him.”

“Y-Yeah? You didn’t m-mean to?” Calum mocked your stuttering cruelly. Sounding so similar to your mean boyfriend and you felt yourself at once have tears settle in your eyes at the humiliation and get impossibly wetter. The lewd squelching each time Michael moved in and out of you was loud. It was too much. The sensation of Michael driving into you and just how good his friends’ teasing words felt.

“It’s okay, you can’t help yourself.” He continued, cooing at you teasingly. “You’re just a brat who only thinks about cock - bet you even like that we’re getting off on you. Thinking about how good you’d look bouncing on our cocks. We’d fuck you good just how you like it. Too bad Michael never learned to share. You’d like that wouldn’t you?”

“‘m not! ‘m not a brat ” You moaned, heart thumping rapidly at what he was suggesting. You could almost see their own big cocks in their hands. You licked your lips. Michael really had turned you into a cock-addicted whore. “I’m a good girl. I’m Mikey’s good girl.”

“Hmm…” Ashton grunted, “Prove it. Keep moaning nice and loud. I’m so fucking close. You’re going to cum again aren’t you? So fucking messy.”

“Say our names when you cum.” Calum chuckled and you heard Ashton’s incredulous laugh right beside him as your cheeks burned. You couldn’t. You wouldn’t. You’d only ever moan Michael’s name, the man who was fucking into you so well like only he would ever be able to do. But the thought of it set a fire in your belly all the same.

And almost as if Michael could hear what he had said, his eyes narrowed in concentration and possessiveness despite everything. “You’re mine.” He grunted out, “All fucking mine. Gonna let them hear how I fuck my cum into you. How you’re built to only take my cock and cum.”

“Yesyesyes, give me your cum, daddy. Please, cum inside me.” The words of all three of them were enough to have you cumming around your boyfriend’s girth almost immediately. Dropping the phone all together and leaving Ashton and Calum to cum into their own hands at your words, imagining it on your skin instead, at the now more echoey sounds of your moans of completion, repeating Michael’s name almost like a mantra in the haze of pleasure.

Even as his hips continued to slam up into yours, despite your overstimulated core. Until he held you still, biting at your skin with a deep groan as he released inside of you. Thick ribbon of cum filled you completely, with pleased sounds leaving your mouth at the sensation.

Only then did he let you fall back on the bed, weak and tired. Finally letting go of your tiny body he had been holding close to him, keeping you on his cock. He had given you exactly what you wanted, what you arrived to his house knowing he could give you. And the experience was so much hotter than you expected, especially with his friends’ teasing and dirty words that showed you just how hot they saw you.

Michael watched as you laid there, legs open with a mixture of both of your cums trickling down your leg. His cum that couldn’t fit inside you, white at your entrance. The sight drove him wild.

But he controlled himself from abusing your sensitive cunt again. He had to handle something first. He picked up the abandoned phone, the one you set aside because you would drop anything and everyone for him. Always.

He didn’t even have to speak when he put his phone up to his ear as you laid there silently, mind fuzzy. Both of you were breathing heavily from the exertion of the rough fuck. Ashton spoke before he had to.

“Don’t brag, dude.” And Michael couldn’t help the smirk that formed on his face. It was exactly what he wanted to do, the feeling of pride swelling inside him. He had just fucked his hot girlfriend, knowing his two friends wanted her, wanted to be him. Claiming her in front of them as she claimed herself as his to them.

“Seriously, it’s bad enough we had to jerk off while you got your dick wet.”

Michael scoffed, “Just be grateful I even let you listen, assholes. Don’t interrupt me next time.” He paused before he decided to rub it in a little more, “At least you could actually make her wet. She felt so good around me.”

“Fuck you, dude. We did a lot more than just make her wet.” Calum said, not unkindly. He was already trying to clean himself off. “Can’t believe she even let you cum inside her."

“Yeah don’t forget she’s mine.” Michael said, the possessiveness back in his tone. They were lucky to even just be given a glimpse of you in that intimate moment. Given to them because Michael trusted his best friends but also just so Michael could show off how lucky he was to have you, how satisfied he was always with you. A reminder of how much you didn't need anyone else with him around. All their fantasies of you were for nothing because it was only ever Michael that could have you whenever and however he wanted, the one who could claim you inside and out.

And while Ashton and Calum dominated you, because of the freedom Michael had allowed them to, they knew better than to push their luck with your boyfriend. They were just happy with themselves for calling at the moment they had, accidentally stumbling into a scene that they refused to leave willingly once they had realized. It was better than any porn they’d ever seen.

Michael’s chuckle caught them off guard, he seemed to be in a good mood after having sex. Not that they could blame him. “Have fun at your party.”

Not that they could. Not after getting such a small taste of you and knowing they wouldn’t be thinking of anything else but how they dreamed of you in that situation, your sounds, what you let them be a witness to and what you let your boyfriend do to you, to claim you in front of them. What it meant that such a sweet, naive looking girl could be tainted to become such a submissive slut, unbeknownst to everyone else. It was hot and they doubted a party could hold their attention or desire at all compared to it.

But Michael knew that. That’s why he was still laughing, tauntingly.

#5sos #5sos smut #michael clifford smut #michael clifford x reader #michael clifford #bad boy smut #bad boy michael #ashton irwin smut #ashton irwin x reader #calum hood x reader #calum hood smut #5sos imagines #college au

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eremiie · 4 years ago

Text

karma;

❥ 16k words | nsfw | eren x fem!reader

❥ content - eren eats reader out,, eren also fucks reader ;)

❥ you don’t care much for eren’s fuckboy habits until he fucks over your friend, and you’re left to deal with the consequences. and eren’s left to deal with a revelation neither of you saw coming

this is based off the song karma by summer walker, so feel free to take a listen!

"i just don't get it— like how foul could you be? if he didn't like me that's all he had to say, not play me like i'm some dummy,"

"historia," you stopped her ramble with a sigh, lifting your hand up as a gesture to say 'stop'.

"i told you, you should've just got with me." ymir snorted, throwing her hand around historia's shoulder, the blonde pouting, her eyebrows furrowing.

you place a hand on historia's lower back and gave her a condescending look. "i told you that you shouldn't mess with him, i wasn't trying to be dramatic or anything when i said that— i know eren... i gave you a heads up and you ignored it."

historia rolled her eyes and shrugged her shoulders. "i didn't ignore it, i just... thought it'd be different."

you scrunched your face up and pinched the bridge of your nose. "why exactly did you think it would be different?"

"instead of giving historia shit, _____," ymir emphasized your name, squinting her eyes at you. "why can't i just rock him? a good punch to the face is maybe just what he needs—"

"ymir, punching him will not solve anything. plus, i doubt historia wants you to punch him either."

"she can speak for herself, idiot. historia, my love, would you like me to knock eren out?"

historia sighed. "no, i don't want anyone to get knocked out. this is so confusing... and not to interfere with your friendship or anything but how can you just go hang out with him right after?"

you looked down at historia, removing your hand from her back and giving her a raise of your eyebrow, looking forward to wear the three of you were headed. you were going to hang out with eren; he was your closest friend who you met in middle school, and now shared a dorm with. it was finally spring break, and as his bestfriend you were invited to spend some time with him and his family for the vacation. eren had you pack bags for the weekend and wanted you to meet him in the front of the building, so that's where your feet were taking you while you conversed with your friends you met on your way. "historia, i said i told you not to fuck with him, what happens between you and eren doesn't have anything to do with me." historia frowned at you and looked down at her crossed arms and you felt a small sense of guilt curdling in your stomach. "i'll talk to him though."

"right now? cause he's right there." ymir said using her head to tilt towards the benches once she pushed the large doors to the outside open. you looked up and ymir was right, from a distance was eren standing up next to a shag of blonde hair and two other people that you couldn't identify as they weren't facing you. almost on cue, eren looked up, head whipping to your figure and a small smirk creeped up on his face until his eyes landed on the two next to you, that smirk dissipating almost just as fast, and him quickly averting eye contact, mumbling something that caused the rest of his acquaintances to turn their heads around. you shook your head and patted historia's shoulder noticing she was glaring at eren, but not as hard as ymir.

"yes, now... uh, i'll catch you guys later." you said waving off to them. "don't worry too much about him historia." and with that you began walking off towards eren. you studied his appearance, hair lazily threw back into his signature messy bun while stray pieces shied away from it. he wore a simple grey sweatshirt with black sweatpants to complete the lazy look, white sneakers on his feet, and when you trailed your eyes back to his face a boyish smile was present.

"hey." eren said simply, arms stretched out to pull you into a warm hug that you reciprocated, your arms wrapping around his midsection as he snuggled you into him, resting his chin on the top of your head.

"hey, eren." you cheesed, pulling back to wave to the rest of the group. "eren's brother," you watched zeke chuckle from where he was seated. you used your finger to point to yelena after, "yelena, pieck and porco!"

"i'm assuming you know my name and you're just being a fool." zeke announced, making you giggle and place your hand on top of his blonde locks. although you didn't see the upperclassmen much, you had no problem remembering their names, especially zeke and pieck as you saw them the most.

"right, of course i know your name, zeke." you smiled. "but what's the gathering about eren?" you motioned to the clutter of people, looking towards eren who's eyes were already on you.

zeke was faster than eren, answering the question before him causing eren to narrow his eyes at his older brother. "eren, my favorite brother here wants to take my car to see his mom and my dad."

you laughed at his words, the enunciation on the last part of his sentence making eren's eye twitch. "first of all i'm your only brother." eren said, rolling his eyes.

"and you guys share the same dad." you grinned as zeke nodded his head at your clarification, another burst of laughter being let out by you and pieck who shook her head at zeke's antics.

"hi, _____, it's been a while since i've seen you." pieck said, waving her hand as well, her head laid down against the surface below her.

"hey, pieck," you slid down onto the bench taking a seat beside her, porco's hand snaking around her back instinctively. "yeah it has, but that's because you're a year above me." pieck chuckled and nodded her head.

"precisely..." she hummed, moving a strand of raven black hair out of her face, eyes trained in the direction ymir and historia walked off. "who were the girls giving eren the dirty eye?"

your eyes followed pieck's. "oh, historia... and ymir." of course, her out of everyone would notice that. you silently praised pieck for being so observant. you looked up at eren to see him avoiding your gaze, his bouncing left to right.

"what did eren do this time?" zeke asked you, propping his head up on his palm as if he was genuinely interested in the conversation, although you were sure it was just to make fun of eren. pieck gave a confused look, her eyebrows coming together as she glanced between the brothers and you.

"more like what did the girls do to eren." yelena said calmly, a bored expression present on her face, her arms crossed leaning forward on the table.

you averted your stare at eren and propped your arms up on the table like yelena. "well, the blonde girl likes eren and they were talking or something, and um... he was messing with some one else at the same time. she's not happy about that, even though i told her not to mess with him."

"so what i'm hearing is it's her fault for messing with him after you told her not to? lesson learned." yelena scoffed, her large eyes portraying a mocking sorrowful expression.

eren shifted uncomfortably at the new eyes on him, letting out an exasperated sigh. "listen,"

"eren, you really can't defend yourself here." zeke cut him off, eyes widening to poke at eren's expense.

"i didn't know she liked me!" eren blurted out, hands flying out from his sides.

"so your brother's a dumbass too?" porco snorted, eren glaring at him with a huff, crossing his arms back.

"pock—" pieck started, being cut off by eren's rising tone.

"i'm not kidding, i didn't know!"

"so you didn't know a girl who you fucked and kept texting you after had feelings for you?" your retort was quick, head inching forward as your eyes narrowed at eren as if he was dumb causing eren to glare at you too, his lips in a thin line at your statement before placing his hand out for zeke to place the keys in his hand.

"okay, whatever, let's go."

"someone's upset." pieck added before placing her hand on your shoulder. "bye, _____, see you at the club tonight?"

"club?" your ears perked. oh, the club. as well as vacation for spring break, majority of your first and second years decided to takeover a club not too far from campus before people left off for their families. you had already packed a dress for the event when you packed your bags last night alongside eren. the event had just slipped your mind. "oh, yeah, yeah. if eren still want's to go."

zeke slapped the keys in eren's hand, you getting up from the bench with a wave to the remaining three, going to stand beside eren. zeke stood up as well, bringing you into a suffocating hug, his beard grazing your forehead before pulling back with a pat to your shoulder. "well, see you. tell miss carla i said hello because eren won't."

you smiled at zeke before eren grabbed your hand with his free one, giving it a small tug. "don't worry, i will zeke."

with a small "c'mon," from eren, he began pulling you away, you trailing after the boy until the two of you reached zeke's parked car. "you really need to get your own car." you murmured to eren as he opened the back door for you to throw your bag in, alongside his, then the passengers side before walking around to the drivers.

"nah, zeke's is good for now." eren slid into the driver's seat, adjusting the chair before starting the car, giving you a one over to make sure you were comfortable, noticing the way your face shriveled up at the smell of the car. "smells like cigarretes?" he asked you, a small smile upturning on his face, his expression almost softening.

you turned your head towards him with a reciprocating smile at his observation. "yeah, but it's okay. your mom's house isn't too far anyways." eren pulled out of the parking lot, letting your last statement resonate in the air while he watched for cars behind him, hand on the back of the head of your seat, brows furrowed in concentration while you opened up your phone, scrolling through your socials. you noticed the party tonight was the talk of today, almost everyone of your mutuals on your feed talking about it. it didn't sound too bad, and you didn't mind going either, getting to see your friends was enjoyable. "so we're going to that party?"

eren's eyes shot to your face from the rear view mirror, lingering for a little before going back to the road ahead. "as long as you want too— i mean, i want to. why? you don't have something to wear? i thought we packed last night."

"dummy, i'm just confirming with you. i have something to wear, you literally watched me pick out my clothes."

eren stayed silent for a couple minutes while beginning to grin at you unconsciously. "yeah, i saw it, the dress. i was gonna say you could borrow one of my moms if you didn't have one." he joked, looking to you to watch you give him a raise of your brow and an upturn of your lip.

"you're such an idiot." you looked back down to your phone to switch apps. "who's gonna be there that i know? i know sasha will probably go, i haven't seen her lately."

"me." eren said matter of factly, not even looking your way for a reaction.

you rolled your eyes, hitting him on the shoulder lightly. "i'm serious."

"im serious too."

"eren!" you whined his name, his look fixing on you again at the sound of his name before shifting away just as quickly.

"you know, the usual... sasha will probably be there, armin probably wants to see annie or something... connie... maybe jean, or reiner or whatever."

"or whatever." you mocked eren, lowering your tone to try to get his voice spot on, causing him to slap your thigh hard, you yelping and dropping your phone to rub at the abused spot, your leer shooting daggers at eren. "i'm telling carla when we get there."

eren only laughed, bringing his hand back to your thigh and moving your hand to soothe the supple skin with a flitting rub while you pouted at him. "she'd hurt me if i hurt you."

"you did!" your voice raising slightly, hand moving his away but not before pinching the skin on top causing him to hiss.

"sorry." his hand returned to your hand sitting on your leg, giving it a small squeeze of reassurance while he studied your face just in case you had a negative reaction.

you let his palm linger, the feeling almost comforting, and... and what? you couldn't pinpoint it, but for the majority of the rest of the ride, his hand stayed until he had no choice but to remove it when steering. a sense of anxiousness was relieved when he did, but you couldn't figure out why.

彡

"go inside, i'll get our bags, my mom will be happy to see you." eren said, signaling to his front door with your hand, and you nodded walking to the small house. a sense of nostalgia was washed over you. you vaguely remembered coming over to eren's house so often and spending so much time with him, mikasa and armin. of course, mikasa being so busy with her own studies could only visit so much, but there were many times she came back to visit alongside you and eren, armin occasionally visiting as well although he had family to go back to as well. you and eren constantly did almost everything together, from indulging in video games he used to side eye you for wanting to play with him, to helping his mom in the kitchen with a grumble from eren, to getting into heated arguments and having to sit on the couch with carla since eren would kick you out of his room, only to be scolded by carla only minutes later. it was all enjoyable memories, even the arguments, and thank goodness to the closeness of the college to eren's old house. you were able to visit and relive those memories so often, a sense of warmth washing over you each and every time.

not only were you thankful for the proximity of carla's house, but you were thankful for her constant efforts to keep you and eren close. she was the one who suggested requesting a shared dorm, the one who constantly asked eren to bring you over, the one that never failed to ask about you every time she called eren. if you and eren ever lost your bond she'd be the first to know.

you walked up the steps, the door already unlocked as carla anticipated your arrival. as soon as you opened the door the significant scent of linen and apple flooded your nose, along with whatever she was cooking up. the mass of carla's dark hair was in your line of sight once you turned your head to the side, her body stood in front of the stove, and she whipped her own head around hazel eyes almost bulging out there head when she spotted your figure at the front door. "_____!" she exclaimed, immediately dropping the pan she was holding back onto the stove and rushing to you, embracing you in a loving hug. "my baby, i missed you so much! eren brought you!"

and eren, always on time stepped in behind you, his tall figure towering over you and his mom with two bags in his hand.

"and my real baby, oh i missed you both so much." carla pulled away giving you chaste kisses on side of your face, her long eyelashes fluttering against your skin as she cradled your jaw with her nimble fingers. her apron decorated around her waist smelled of fresh cooking, but her perfume lingered as well giving off a haze of peppermint.

she moved towards eren, her hands cupping his face and pressing a kiss to his cheek as well, moving her fingers to tug on his ear playfully before drifting down to his shoulder, patting his chest then pulling the bags out of his hand. "mom—" eren murmured, twisting his face at his mom's protectiveness as she dragged the bags out of his hand, going over to place them beside the staircase before coming back over, hands clasped in front of her guests.

"no, you just came, no need to try to put stuff away yet." carla said with a cheery smile, still elated at the arrival of the two of you. "i'm so glad you're here, i just finished cooking so let's all sit and eat before you try to do anything else." she began walking back towards the pan she left on the stove, head turned back with a knowing look at eren who would try to go put the bags upstairs. "come sit." and you and eren made your way to the round dining table, four seats present, yet only three would be filled.

"where's dad?" eren asked as he sat down, pulling the chair out for you first while you fiddled with your fingers, watching carla plate the lunch she prepared.

carla's movements slowed as she sat in thought for a couple seconds. "oh... he's at work, like always you know." eren looked down, nodding his head.

"so how's school going?" carla asked, heading over to place down a bowl. "chicken pasta salad, it's good, eat." she used her head to motion towards the food.

"it's going good, luckily i don't have that heavy of a workload like others, it's bearable, but of course still hard." you replied, as she brought over plates and cutlery, setting them down in front of eren and you, both of you immediately scooping some pasta onto your plates.

"and you, eren?"

"it's fine, mom."

"how about football? is that going good?"

"yeah, it's good too." you winced at eren's lack of effort in the conversation, hitting his elbow with your own, him giving you a confused expression before he placed his full fork in his mouth.

"zeke told me to tell you hi." you told carla as she came to sit in front of the two of you, plating her own food, eyes widening at the mention of zeke's name.

"really?"

"yeah."

"well then how's zeke doing too then?"

"i don't know, i don't see him much, eren could probably tell you." you gave eren the opportunity to talk, looking at him to cue him to say something while you took another forkful of the pasta.

"he's probably fine too, i don't see him much either." eren replied with a shrug of his shoulders, picking at his food, and you sighed.

"how's sharing a dorm going? i hope eren's not too much, i know he can be a ruckus."

"it's good too, he's a better roommate than i thought he'd be at first." you let out a small laugh, remembering eren's old antics, how messy his room used to be, the dark green of his walls and the miscellaneous decorations he used to have sprung around. you couldn't wait to go upstairs and check that out again. "he's still a little messy—"

"but she always nags me to clean up so that doesn't matter." eren cut you off before you could attempt to compliment him and you rolled your eyes.

"i wasn't gonna say anything bad. yeah he cleans up a little more now but i always have to pick up a sock or something. plus, i'm the one who has to clean up before someone comes to visit. like mikasa or armin or something." you chose not to mention the countless girls that'd come in and out too.

carla pursed her lips looking up at eren with a slightly disappointed look. "you always have to keep your workspace and your room clean, eren. especially in the presence of others, i didn't tell you that all the time for no reason."

"i know, i know, mom."

"no you don't because if you did you'd keep your area clean in respect for ______." carla placed more of her food in her mouth with a shake of her head before moving her failing ponytail to her back from her shoulder, then looking up at you. her doe eyes were just like eren's, he was the spitting image of her and it's one reason why you could never forget her face. "how's mikasa and armin?"

"they're good too, mikasa couldn't come this time, she has too much going on i guess— but she's fine!" a slight moment of worry crossed carla's face, eyebrows turning up and lips frowning as she twirled her fork in the food in front of her.

"hopefully she can come next time, tell her to relax. poor girl, always has so much on her plate. i remember when she used to be here she constantly had to do eren's chores for him, what a doll."

eren scratched his head, looking down at his almost empty plate. "i did work too, she didn't do everything for me."

carla ignored eren's add on."and armin?"

eren answered before you could. "he's good too."

"i hope so, he's such a sweet boy." carla hummed. "so how long are you guys staying? and how long's your break?"

"only a week, we'll be here for this weekend cause zeke is gonna need his car back." your plate was almost finished as well, fork scraping against the ceramic.

"yeah, but later today we're heading back up to go to a party." eren said nonchalantly, eyeing his fork as he spun it in his hand.

"i hope that's okay with you— if you don't want us to go we don't have to." you hastily added in consideration for carla, eren's green eyes narrowing at you with a small frown. he clearly wanted to have some fun tonight.

"no, no! that's perfectly fine, you'll be here for the whole weekend, i'll let you kids have your fun." carla smiled. "i'm just glad you came earlier than waiting until after the party cause i know you'll get back late and i'll probably be sleeping. who's birthday is it?"

"it's not a birthday." eren stuffed the last of his food in his mouth, chewing before continuing. "just a spring break party before everyone goes home."

"oh? so that's what you do in college nowadays?" carla laughed, peering at eren's plate, content that he finished his food. you joined her in laughing, ushering yourself to finish up as well, knowing eren might get impatient with your pace at eating.

"i guess. there are parties all the time. but how have you been?"

carla beamed at your asking. "i'm good! nothing much, i wait for grisha to come home, although i'm usually just here alone. i have my hobbies though, i'm fine. i've been trying to make friends with the neighbors too, they have some younger kids that are enjoyable." as you listened to carla you finished your food as well, her getting up to gather the empty plates and take them to the sink. "thank you for asking, _____. eren, honey can you put the top on the pasta and put it in the fridge? i'll make dinner later just in case you want something else when you get home tonight."

eren pushed his seat back, standing up to do as his mom said, wandering towards the fridge. "that's fine, we should just give you a break, we'll eat the pasta again when we get back, you can just relax, right eren?" you said, watching carla and eren maneuver around the kitchen while you got up to wash your hands at the sink beside carla.

"yeah that's cool too. you don't have to cook mom."

carla pouted endearingly at the two of you with an "awe," leaving her lips. "the two of you are so sweet. i'll clean up, you can go upstairs now." and with that you and eren left her to her own devices, eren grabbing the bags at the stairs and almost pushing you up the stairs.

"that was good, i'm full." you sighed, as you walked beside eren down the hall until he opened the door to his old room. the walls were still a muddy green, a decision you're sure he probably regret now. miscellaneous posters decorated his wall, an oak desk sat idle in the corner of his room beside a collection of simple books. his bed was made, navy comforter sprawled out on the bed and plump pillows sitting pretty. his bed was big enough for the two of you to share, but carla always asked if you wanted to sleep in mikasa's room when you came. you always declined. "look at your certificates." you pointed to the certificates framed on the wall as eren set the bags down on the floor beside his desk.

"shut up." eren grabbed your wrist, pulling you towards his bed until you collapsed onto it beside him. “'m tired." he groaned, his face down into the cover below him, arm slumped over your waist where you laid. you were going to pester eren about his situation with historia, but you decided to leave him alone for the time being.

"you can take a nap before we leave."

eren turned his head to the side so his cheek was smushed against the bed instead, looking at your form, your head pointed towards the ceiling. "you wanna take one with me?"

you faced eren, giving him a stank face before poking his cheek. "just cause you're tired doesn't mean i am. i'll lay here though, i'll wake you up when we should start getting ready." you slipped your phone out of your pocket to check the time. "you have until like five thirty-ish. it's four."

eren squeezed your side, that same anxious feeling rising as he did so, pulling you a little closer, eyes shutting. "take a nap with me."

"no."

"c'mon."

"eren, i'm not tired." he opened his eyes again, piercing green blue hues staring at you head on. he removed his arm from around you, picking his head up and scooting up to his pillow, now facing away from you with a huff. "whatever, i'll wake you up later." he didn't respond, and around fifteen minutes after, once he was asleep you got up from the bed.

shuffling downstairs, you turned the corner to the living room, seeing carla seated on the couch watching tv. "hi, mrs. carla." you said lowly, her head turning back fast as usual, and simpering when she saw your face.

"you're okay?" her hand moved to find the remote, turning down the volume on the tv as you came to sit beside her. her soft hand found yours, grasping it. "enjoying the stay so far, right?"

"of course. eren's sleeping so i wanted to keep you some company."

"that's too sweet of you. he's doing fine too, right?"

"yeah, probably just tired from staying up all night. he was up pretty late yesterday." you reminisced on the small argument you had with eren just the previous night before, you pestering him about his reluctance to sleep, him making you irritable being on the phone with who knows in the dead of the night.

carla nods her head in understanding. "so tell me more about the party."

you look up to the ceiling in thought as she rubbed your knuckles. "well, eren wants to go more than me. i wouldn't have minded staying here if he wanted too, but i guess he wants to see some people."

'hm, are you going to see some people?" she wiggled her shoulders in a taunting manner, and you chuckled in response.

"nope, just gonna chill."

"well... don't get too drunk or anything. i want my babies safe...” she looked at you with large eyes, curiousity present on her face. “are you seeing someone?" she asked abruptly.

you were slightly caught off-guard by the question, but were a little glad carla felt so comfortable basking in your private life. "we won't, don't worry. but um, no i'm not."

"i see... is eren? anything he's not telling me?" you pondered, not wanting to tell too much about eren's own personal relationships despite it being his mom. i mean— would you want someone telling your mom about you breaking girls hearts? you decided to enlighten her a little bit, make her feel like she was somewhat apart of eren's romantic life.

"he doesn't tell me much either, to be honest. i guess he's just trying his luck with girls. he has no problem catching their attention anyways, so i don't think you have to worry much about that."

carla looked at you, an unreadable expression visible on her face through the small moment of silence. she let go of your hand, putting hers back in her lap. "i'm glad you know it too." she half joked, looking to her lap. "... trying his luck?"

you shrugged your shoulders, feeling a tad bit uncomfortable, letting your hand come up to scratch at your jaw. "something like that... i don't know, he's just doing his own thing."

carla's eyes darted back and forth between you and her legs, trying to find something to say, mouth opening and closing every time she thought she had came up with the right words. "_____, i really like you, and enjoy your presence you know. you're really great to eren, i appreciate that. i want you to keep looking out for him, i want the best for him. whatever he has going on, help him figure it out, be the best version of himself as possible."

your words were so vague but you felt like she saw right through them. her words were so vague and you had trouble deciphering them.

"... of course, yeah, i'm looking out for him, he's my bestfriend."

"yeah... that's also true." carla sighed, and you hope she didn't notice the confusion that crossed your face for a brief moment.

saving you from the slightly awkward silence, carla turned the volume up on the television, the two of you sitting and watching whatever was present on screen.

soon enough, eren's foot steps were heard, both you and carla turning your head to see eren standing at the bottom of the steps, and irritated tired look on his face. he rubbed at his eyes, moving away some of the stray hairs in his face before slapping his palm back down to his thigh.

"what are you doing?" his voice was rumbly and deep from sleep, tone impatient.

"talking to your mom?" your response was more of a question, carla patting your thigh for you to get up.

"its six thirteen."

"i left my phone upstairs with you, grumpy." you glanced to carla. "he's always like this when he wakes up."

"i can recall." a chuckle left her lips as she shooed you away. "the two of you can get ready."

so you followed eren back upstairs, toeing behind him until you got to his room. you scurried to get your attire and products from your bag, and with your belongings in hand, you went off to the bathroom to get ready and give eren his own privacy.

soon enough you were dressed and freshened up. your strapped blush silk dress adorned with ruches up the side hugged every curve of yours, while your hair sat pretty. you sighed in content, grabbing your perfume bottle and spritzing yourself, the smell of vanilla engulfing your senses. you looked at yourself in the mirror appreciating the way you looked, your lips glossed, and your earrings dangled just above your shoulders.

from the mirror view you could see eren come in behind you, his eyes trailing down your body from your reflection in the mirror. you didn't bother facing him, only stepping slightly to the side to take a look at him as well, a plain black shirt on his upper half, accompanied by black jeans as well, and some sneakers. his pendant hung in his hand, gold watch to match on his left wrist. of course, he never did much to his hair, as it was still pulled back in the same ponytail from before his nap.

"sit down on the toilet." eren side eyed you before sitting on the lid of the toilet, you coming up in front of him to pull the hair tie out of his hair. "your hair's a mess, and i'll put the necklace on."

surprisingly, no complaints from eren arose, he sat quiet as you carded your fingers through his brown locks, pulling his hair back into a neater bun, flyaways still decorating his face in a more purposeful manner. hair tickled the back of his hair as well, but you liked the messy look. you grabbed the pendant from his rough hands, unclasping the back before putting it around his neck, him leaning forward to give you a better angle while he stared down at your feet. "better."

eren looked over you from where he sat on the toilet seat, a calm face present. "aren't you gonna get cold? or your feet might hurt." he pointed to your white heels detailed with clear.

"i'll be fine," you dusted his shoulder before he stood up, once again towering over you, seemingly more intimidating now that he stood straight up. "i have a jacket that i'll put in the car."

you and eren made your way back downstairs, your jacket and phone now in hand, eren likewise. carla practically gasped at the sight of you two, her eyes growing like saucers at your attire. "you guys look so cute!" she came over, taking your hands into hers. "all grownup."

"mom..." eren exasperated, grabbing your wrist to pull you more towards the front door, away from carla.

"eren, it's okay," you pulled out of his grip, turning back towards her. "thank you so much."

carla smiled, heading towards eren. "and my handsome boy," she swiped at his shirt, making sure there were no dust particles on it much like you had did earlier, then tugging at the key pendant on his neck, straightening the necklace. "you guys be safe, i love you."

eren placed his hand over his mom's, moving it down from the chain and back into her own vicinity. "yeah, love you too." his hand made a 'come on' gesture, and with a tilt of his head, you were following him again. "let's go."

彡

"eren, wait." he didn't hear you, still making his way around the crowd of bodies, annoyance creeping up in your veins as you tried to keep up with him. "eren!" still, no response, only him still moving forward making you groan in annoyance. you rolled your eyes for the umpteenth time, and let them land on the bar next to you. "hitch!" you called out, her and the blonde next to her turning towards the sound of her name being called, who you soon recognized as annie.

hitch waved you over excitedly, almost bouncing in her seat at the sight of you. you made your way over, sitting beside her as she pulled you into a tight hug. "____, hey! didn't really think you'd be here."

"why not?" you hummed, bartender looking your way to see if you would hint that you wanted a drink.

"not sure, i just thought you'd be chilling in your room right about now. i was just telling annie about some boys, there's a lot of cute ones here if you want to get some."

"i'm good." you peered down at her drink, clear liquid detailed with greenery, a lime sitting on the side of the glass. "what are you drinking?"

"a mojito," hitch wiggled her eyebrows as she recalled the drink in a sing song voice. "wanna try it?" she pushed it towards your lips. you shrugged your shoulders sipping at her straw without a care. the drink stung a bit, your face twisting as you shook your head.

"i'll just get a martini. what's annie drinking?"

"dunno, probably water." hitch moved a piece of her hair behind her ear, glancing at the clear liquid in front of annie. "oh, yeah. like i was saying..." her voice trailed off to you as you began to talk to the bartender, ordering yourself a martini.

you sipped on your drink, only half listening to hitch. every time she tried to confirm that you were listening by going "right, _____?" you would nod your head even if you couldn't remember the last thing she said.

"_____, _____!" a familiar raspy voice was calling your name, pulling you out of your thoughts. you, hitch and annie once again looked towards the source of the sound, sasha's hand outstretched in your direction as she came forward, dragging along connie. "hey, you're here!"

you shot sasha a smile, putting down your drink and embracing her into a side hug, waving at connie as well. "hey, sash! yeah, how'd you know?"

"i went to go find connie so he could buy me a drink, and i saw eren and asked if you were here too. he said you didn't know where you were though, but what a coincidence." sasha made herself comfortable in the seat beside you, connie staying standing as there were no more seats to the left of sasha. "what's that?" she pulled your martini forward, putting it to her lips with no hesitance, beaming at the taste. "this, what's this?"

you laughed at sasha's antics, her presence making the event at hand all the more better, you missed hanging out with her, only having night classes with her the semester before. "it's a martini."

"yeah, connie, get me this!" connie let out a sigh and went to the other side of the bar where there was seating to comfortably order and wait for sasha’s drink. "he's so nice, i literally forgot my wallet, and that would've been so tragic if they had some good food here." sasha hummed, reluctantly pushing your drink back over in front of you. "how long have you been here?"

"not for long," you responded, taking another sip of your drink. "maybe like thirty minutes or so, eren left me like as soon as we got here so i've just been sitting with hitch and annie." you gestured to the girls beside you, hitch engaging annie in more conversation who almost forcibly listened, seeming to care less, although hitch told her anyways, getting the occasional nod from the blonde.

"oh, i've been here for like an hour now, i met this really cute boy. i don't know his name but he's blonde, and cute, like really cute." she clasped her hands together at the thought of the boy. "i danced with him, he was so nice, i need to find him again tonight." when connie returned with her drink she thanked him profusely, hugging his arm dramatically before letting him go so he could return to his other friends, waving off to you once more.

"well, find out his name maybe."

"i had it, i just forgot!" she pondered. "i think it started with an m, or an n or something, i don't know." you laughed again, taking another drink of the beverage in front of you ice basically being left in the glass, sasha beginning to drink hers as well. "you should come out to the floor and dance, it's literally so fun. plus, everyone else would probably wanna see you. historia is here! jean is too, and like— some other people."

"are you gonna finish your drink first?" you had no problem going out to dance, although you rather just watch from the outside.

"i'll take it with me. is that a yes? c'mon!" sasha exclaimed, picking her drink off the table and pulling you from your seat. you and sasha made your way through the surplus of bodies until you felt the surface under your heels change. you didn't see anyone you knew but you were sure sasha did as she perked up then looking back at you. "there's the boy, look!" you followed her direction of sight a boy with a middle part, blonde strands flopping at the sides of his forehead. he was cute for sasha, and the joy that glowed on her face made you smile.

you truly did miss her, and the excitement she brought into your own life, coercing you to go out to eat with her, begging to come over after classes despite it being night, and pushing you to attend parties and events.

"can i go over to him?" sasha begged, tightening her hold on your arm before making puppy dog eyes. "look," and with her finger she pointed towards a connie, him speaking while moving back and forth to the song playing loudly, music filling your ears. "connie is over there, i'll take you over." you sighed but couldn't help but cast a smile at her, her hickory ponytail bouncing as she took you over to connie.

connie was in the midst of talking to jean, who you recognized right off the bat, his ash brown hair scaping his neck, eyebrows lifting when he saw you approach with your friend. "connie— and jean, hey, jean. look who's here." connie glanced at you, then to sasha.

"i saw her earlier." he said, pausing from talking, his movements slowing. "but, hey again, _____." connie punched your shoulder lightly in a joking manner.

"well, i didn't," jean's hand rested on his chest as he spoke before pulling you into a hug moving the drink in his hand to the side as he did so, cheesing at you. "hey, _____. when did you get here?"

"when eren got here, if you've seen him."

jean's smile disappeared, an "oh," leaving his mouth blankly. "you look nice. how's everything?"

you stepped forward, closer to jean and connie as sasha left your side to go talk to the mystery boy. you grinned at the compliment, showing your appreciation. "thanks... i'm good, how about you?" you only really heard about jean through eren and sasha, also seeing him around campus more often than not. he was good company for the times you've been around him, but you and mikasa had to constantly get him out of scuffles with eren although they were pretty good friends.

"good, that's good. i'm good too. you're just now getting on the floor?"

"yeah, thanks to sasha. why? you wanna dance with me or something?" you joked, nudging jean's shoulder, earning a small laugh from connie as well that you could barely hear.

"jean you better watch it, this my girl." connie interrupted playfully, snaking his hand around your waist and pulling you closer in spite of jean. jean glared at connie before letting his drink run down his throat again, adam's apple bobbing.

"yeah, yeah, _____, wanna dance?" you complied, connie letting go of you and off to do his own thing as you came more up to jean, moving side to side with him as you mouthed the lyrics to the song. you relished in your movements, being able to loosen up and just dance, jean fluently following your movements as well, frequently mumbling the lyrics he knew. when granted you turned around letting your back hit jean's chest, his lip upturning as he looked down at you, watching you do your own thing. his free hand came down to your side to hold you in place as you danced, feeling the song playing. he studied your face from what he could see, noticing how carefree and relaxed you look. "looks like you needed a night out." he said loudly so you could hear.

"i guess. it's just nice to be able to see all of you at once, just letting myself live a little, especially since i don't get out a lot."

"you really don't. you should talk to sash more, have her bring you to some more parties or something like you used to always come to."

you bent over slightly, only so that you were no longer pressed flush against jean, letting your rear grind against him a bit. "you miss me? you can invite me out too you know, just depends if i'm feeling it that day or not."

"so you're asking me to text you more?" jean took your movements lightly, hand still resting at your side, his own body surprisingly cool albeit your actions, continuing to drink the beverage at hand.

you snorted picking yourself back up and adjusting your dress, swaying your hips once more. "jean kirschstein; always a flirt." jean and you both laughed, and he tapped your hip before gesturing towards the bar.

"you know it— but, i'm gonna get a refill, you enjoy yourself." jean began walking away, pep in his step and you chuckled to yourself, standing around until you took it upon yourself to find someone else you knew.

you walked slowly, looking for a familiar face, sasha almost nowhere to be found. you contemplated going back to the bar to sit down with hitch and annie again, or go converse with jean again, but you spotted armin wandering around almost aimlessly in the crowd as well, your face lighting up at the sight. "armin!" you called out, and thank goodness for his sharp ears, the blonde turning around almost immediately at the sound of his name. his smile was large and he came over,

"______!"

you brought armin into a side hug, a funny look on your face. "armin, hey. you looking for someone?" you asked, referring to his walking around just seconds before you called for him. the blonde scratched the back of his neck, nodding his head with a nervous laugh. "yeah, um... annie, i was looking for annie." your mouth dropped into an 'o', eyebrows lifting up in surprise. you remember eren foreshadowing that armin would be there for annie, and it made you giggle.

"annie?" you smirked, watching his eyes dart around the club, avoiding your eyes. "well, i think she's at the bar talking to hitch. want me to come with?" you weren't planning on grabbing another drink, as you could already feel some of the alcohol buzzing through, but you of course weren't drunk, and you needed it to stay that way.

you felt a hard slap of a hand on your shoulder, whipping your head back to see sasha all bugged eye standing behind you, a concerned expression crossing your face. armin, noticing the drift of your attention gave a curt nod. "no, it's fine, i'll find her." then walking off in the direction of the small bar.

"_____, guess what, guess what!" sasha exclaimed, turning you around by your shoulder, her cheeks high from smiling hard, face flushed from the countless drinks you assumed she must've had since you saw her, another one present in her hand as you spoke. you could only wonder who bought her it.

"hi, yes sash, what's up?"

"the guy— he's literally so cute, and guess what!" she repeated, eager to have you try to guess her next statement.

"um what? you got his number?"

she profusely shook her head, bangs whipping back and forth as she stabled herself on your shoulder, pulling down the dress she was wearing before leaning into your ear. "he can cook too, he told me he's a chef, i mean can you believe that? i don't even know if i want to take him home." she giggled before pulling away, eyes going up to the ceiling in thought. "i should probably get his number too, shouldn't i?"

"well if you're not gonna take him home then you should probably get that now."

"oh, no," her hand paused on your chest while she took a swig of the alcohol in hand. "i'm taking him home for sure, i just got to get the number too, he's so sweet!"

sasha's energy was a lot, her eyes darting around once more. "look, eren's coming over," she pointed with her drink behind you and you turned back to indeed see eren heading over to the two of you, his eyes pointed down at his feet as he watched his step around the excess bodies of sweaty people clashing around him, careful not to step on any feet. "i'm gonna go use the bathroom because i really have to pee, then i'm gonna get his number, ok?" sasha said, you saying an "okay," as she stumbled away to find the bathrooms.

just as she stepped away, eren stepped forward, him placing his hand on your lower back to push you more towards him and get you away from other people. "hey," he said in a louder tone for you to hear.

"hey." your feet moved with eren's as you noticed he was side stepping in an effort to dance less awkwardly, making you hold back a laugh.

"are you enjoying the party?"

"yeah, its nice. i've seen a lot of people so far."

eren peered down at you, eyeing you with another indecipherable look, his tongue sliding over his bottom lip and his eyes squinting slightly. he moved his hand to your side in effort to turn you around, leaning down to your ear. "enjoy yourself a little more, dance with me, i haven't seen you all night."

you looked at eren, his head near your ear causing the deviate hairs on the side of his head to tickle you. "i am... and that's your fault, you left me almost as soon as we got here."

eren ignored your last statement, pressing his palm to the dimples of your back. "lower." he droned, curiosity crossing his face as he wondered if you would comply or not, although he was just messing around.

"eren!" you slapped his arm, another foreign feeling coursing your skin as he tittered in your ear before pulling back.

"what? you're my bestfriend, i'm just messing, plus you'd be at like— my legs anyways." eren gave you a testing gaze, watching you lift a brow up at his slick words. with courage, you challenged eren, pushing back on him a little more, letting your backside brush against him in the slightest playfully. eren's hand stiffened on your side before he turned you back around.

"did you feel that in your legs?" you didn't think eren would take you seriously. you could play around with each other like that, and sometimes you did.

"woah, stop..." he let out a shaky laugh, it sounding more like a huff of breath. "uh, i'm gonna go head over for another drink... do you want one too? i'll pay." his voice came out almost in a pleading manner, but you shook your head brushing him off.

"it's cool, one of us has to stay sober— i wouldn't want you crashing zeke's car either, he'd kill you."

"whatever... but, you sure?"

"yes, i'm sure... i'm gonna go find somewhere to sit anyways, i'm kind of sick of standing."

"i told you your feet were gonna hurt."

"i didn't say they hurt, i said i was sick of standing, stupid. go get your drink." you pushed eren forward a little bit, him looking over you one more time before letting you go, heading in the direction of the same bar almost everyone you had encountered had sat at at least once today.

you wanted to find somewhere to sit, and it wasn't too hard, a broad seating area with small lounge couches and seating in the corner of the club, and sitting one of the couches was pieck, surveying the area, a peaceful expression on her face as she sat with porco. you mentally high fived yourself for spotting another one of your acquaintances, striding over, watching pieck's face practically glow at your arrival, porco not caring much. "pieck," you held your hands out, gesturing to the dark haired girl. "comes to a party, and lays down with porco for half of it."

"so you finally found me." was the first thing she said, intertwining one of her hands with yours and pulling you down to sit with her, laughing at you. "i was out there earlier, and now i'm drinking. pock here wouldn't even let me be out there for too long if i wanted too."

"and let those filthy hands touch you? damn right." he grumbled, arm swung around the back of the seat the three of you were seated on.

"see? pock; forever the life of the party." pieck mimics your earlier tone, using her hands to gesture out like you before the two of you burst into fits of laughter. "but, i saw you being the life of the party and dancing out there."

you scoffed. "barely, i danced with only a couple people, that's all."

"sasha, jean, eren." she leaned forward, bumping you with her hand that held her drink.

"why'd you say eren like that?"

pieck looked to porco, almost snorting at your obliviousness before looking back at you. "he was watching you when you were getting down with jean, then you kind of... got down with him too." her eyes got wide mockingly, before she giggled at her own words, downing some of her alcohol.

"barely," you said again. "i'm just friend's with both of them— and jean is just naturally flirty i guess. i'm just chilling, like you."

porco looked over at your last sentence, eyeing pieck with a muddled guise, her catching on before lightly rubbing his hand that sat on his thigh in security. "not chilling like that, pock, she means i'm just sitting around."

"i'm not stupid, i knew that."

another burst of short lived laughter from you and pieck, porco rolling his eyes at the two of your antics. "well eren and jean are over there now."

you glanced over at the direction of pieck's gaze, spotting eren seated beside armin and annie, and a new face you didn't even see all night, historia talking to eren with a black haired girl next to her, arms crossed. jean stood on the other side of them, leaning on the counter seeming to be listening intently. something seemed off about the conversation but eren seemed to be nonchalant about it so you didn't think twice. "so annie was still at the bar? i guess hitch left her." you said mostly to yourself, recalling when you told armin where the stoic girl was earlier that evening.

"yeah," pieck still heard you. "look at annie and armin," she used her drink to gesture towards the two.

"cute, almost makes me want to get in a relationship, surrounded by all these lovebirds." you said jokingly, specifically aiming your sentence to pieck and porco next to you, and not so much annie and armin as you weren't even sure if they dated.

"i could pluck a couple candidates for you."

"who?"

"i don't think you'd like my answer."

you shook your head at pieck, only letting the comment linger on your mind for a bit before letting your eyes wander back to historia and eren. they seemed to be having a heated conversation from the distance you were at, historia's drink in hand as she spoke to eren, her hands flailing at the same time while eren drank his own, seemingly half-listening. "was historia always here?"

pieck looked ahead to the bar as well. "i'm assuming you mean the blondie from this afternoon? i remember her, but i don't recall seeing her until probably just a couple minutes ago, why? you're gonna go over and say hi?"

"nah, she's a sweetheart though; she'd be happy to see me regardless, but, i think she might be a little annoyed with me because of what happened between her and eren. if i pass her later then yeah."

historia frowned as both her and you, despite your distance watched eren turn around to armin and jean, saying something that made jean burst out laughing and armin and the raven haired girl next to historia's jaw drop. what jean said after was inaudible from where you sat, but you could just see the words "eren," formed on armin's lip. your eyes widened as when eren turned back around historia's hand flew forward, drink wrapped around her fingers letting the contents inside of the cup spill forward onto eren's shirt, the red shade of the liquid seeping into it.

you gasped and pieck did too, her moving her hair out of her face to make sure the events that were splayed out were really happening. "oh my gosh," you muttered, standing up and taking long strides over to the bar.

armin's hand wrapped around eren's wrist, tugging him back before he could lose his temper on the small girl in front of him. "eren, leave it!" you could hear armin say, worry in his tone as eren shook out of his grip. but before he could do anything else in response you were in front of him, your eyebrows furrowed and your hands placed on the front of eren's shirt, avoiding the wet spots as you pushed him backwards a little.

"eren, hey, eren, stop!" you raised your voice slightly, his eyes still trained on historia who you stepped in front of, her stepping back, with the other girl, who you could now tell was mina, but you could only remember her so vaguely, hearing about her from eren more than seeing her more often than not.

eren looked down at you, his expression softening only a tad bit when he saw your own angered one as you tried to calm him down. you twisted your neck back to look at historia with a disappointed look, her looking almost surprised to see you here as well, as if she genuinely didn't know you'd be here. "historia..." you sighed more so to yourself before looking at eren's shirt again.

"_____, i can take him to the bathroom to help him." armin proposed, coming up beside you and examining eren's shirt as well. luckily because of the dark color it only looked like a water stain, but you knew it was irritating eren nonetheless.

"it's fine, i'll take him, thank you arm—"

"no, let's go, get your stuff." eren interrupted you, turning towards the barstool he was sitting on previously to grab his phone. his tone was low and domineering, almost telling you that yes, you were leaving right now, not that you had any complaints; you were already getting tired, hence why you took a seat with pieck.

"um, i left my stuff in the car, and i have my phone." you felt your chest to make sure your device was still tucked away, and it was, eren grabbing your upper arm and for the thousandth time that day, tugging you away. you could only look back with a sorry gaze at armin, noticing jean's still shocked expression, and realization dawning on historia's own face. you would have to shoot pieck a text later that night as well, as you could no longer see her as eren dragged you out the club.

once you took step outside the cold breeze hit your arm, but one of your arm's were still held captive so you couldn't rub your limbs to try and soothe the aching cold, getting annoyed by the way eren was pulling you along with him. "eren, let go." you pulled your arm back, and easier than you thought, your arm slipped out of his grip as the two of you reached the car. this time he didn't open the car door for you, both of you getting into your designated sides simultaneously, eren starting his brother's car again.

"what happened?" you asked almost immediately, eyes still looking down to the splotch of alcohol on his black top. you knew it would turn into a stain without the proper care of the material.

eren basically ignored you, looking over to your side once before beginning to drive off letting silence fall over the two of you. you huffed and looked out the window, resting your head on your palm and just letting eren's temper wash away with the car ride. you'd coerce him to tell you when the two of you got back to carla's house.

彡

eren unlocked the front door, letting you get inside first. all the lights were shut, his mom most likely sleeping, yet the two of you were still quiet.

eren almost immediately began stripping off his shirt, first starting by placing both of his keys on the counter, alongside his phone, while you placed your own belongings beside his. he took off his tee, pendant slapping against his chest once the shirt was off. you used your right foot to kick off your left heel and did the same with the reciprocating leg.

before he could toss his shirt onto the table chair you reached out, grabbing it and going to flip on the kitchen light, heading over to the sink. eren studied your movements slightly surprised by your immediate efforts to help him, which to him should be no shock; you were always willing to help eren, always one step ahead of him before he could make mistakes, always rushing after him before his mistakes as well.

he came over beside you as you studied the stain, your delicate hands stretching out the fabric to examine it further. "what was she drinking?"

eren looked up from his shirt to your face, you too concentrated on the shirt to notice. "how am i supposed to know?" you gave him a browbeaten stare, him shifting uncomfortably before speaking again. "i don't know... it was something red i think."

"i'm gonna hand wash it and put it in the dryer. next time you wash clothes you can wash it too." you murmured, turning on the sink water before drizzling dish soap onto the black material. eren watched you silently, almost in awe at your domestic movements, your hands moving faintly yet firmly when you scrubbed at his shirt. he decided to break the silence instead of continuing to watch you.

"... i was just talking to armin and jean, and then she came over with her friend."

you immediately scoffed, breathing air through your nose at his last words, not even looking back at eren. "her friend? you know her name eren, i know you do."

eren stared at his shoes, tapping his fingers against the counter he leaned against. "yeah, mina. well they came over, and she was just talking to me like normal—"

"eren." your tone was almost threatening— like a mothers warning. you were glad he finally felt the need to tell you about the events that your mind was pondering on, but the way he sounded like he was attempting to dumb down the story itched you wrong. eren could tell by the tone of your voice that you were slightly upset, and he decided not to push any further.

"well she started talking to me about everything, her and mina were like... interrogating me about the situation, how i... played them," the words felt almost foreign coming from eren's mouth. you could almost see him visibly cringing from the angle he was at beside you. "and then i said something that she took the wrong way, i said it to jean and armin, then she threw her drink at me." the more he talked the lower his voice got until it was merely above a whisper, almost as if the embarrassment was only just dawning on him.

you let the quiet simmer for a little longer, ringing out the fabric in your hand before rolling up the material and making your way to the laundry room, eren following behind like a lost puppy. you brushed your hand against the laundry room door, turning to eren for confirmation that it was the right room if you could remember, and he nodded his head. with a sigh you threw the garment into the dryer, setting it to dry for only twenty minutes then letting the dryer run.

eren once again let his eyes follow you as you stepped in front of him crossing your arms, your brows coming together creating a crease between them, and your eyes squinted at him. "so why'd you do it?"

no response, only emeralds darting around the room to avoid your own strong gaze. you weren't angry, no, as cliché as it is you were merely disappointed— maybe even irritated, and of course confused.

"hm? what'd you get out of hurting them?" you stepped closer, eren making no attempt to step back.

"... i dont know, i—"

"you don't know? you just doing this for fun? cause it's not fun for them, and it's not fun for me when random girls always come up to me, like historia; telling me about what you did." you pointed an accusing finger at his chest. "like, i just don't get it eren." your hand came up to your face as you pinched the bridge of your nose.

eren was almost at loss for words, only being able to listen to you speak, and only able to observe the array of motions that came and went on your face in a single minute, observe how you tapped your foot against the hardwood floor, or the way you tucked your lip between your teeth in frustration every time you took a pause in telling him off.

"eren... i'm not saying she was right for throwing that drink on you, because she's not, but you," another brief pause, and your eyes meeting eren’s, a sympathetic look on them. okay, yeah you weren't mad, you just wanted to know what was going on through eren's head. "you can't keep just doing them girls like that, thinking that nobody's gonna bite back."

"______, i'm sorry..." he didn't want you to be disappointed, he didn't want you to be upset with him. it was some kind of heavy guilt that turned his stomach. he took it upon himself to grab one of your hands, and surprisingly you didn't pull away, his fingers rubbing your knuckles in an attempt to soothe your nerves. "'m sorry,"

"eren, you're apologizing to the wrong person." eren genuinely didn't know what to say, he knew you weren't the person to apologize to but he wanted your forgiveness as well. you let go of his hand moving it to the key around his neck, fiddling with it between your fingers as a mere distraction. he watched your soft fingers move, and it gave him a sense of comfort and fidelity, a warmness in his chest.

"i know..." his tone was filled with culpability, and it made you feel bad despite the position he put your friend in.

"you know, your mom talked to me earlier." you unconsciously slid your hand up his chest to his shoulder. your touch, your touch was enticing to him whether you knew it or not. "she said she wanted me to help you out and help you be the best version of yourself as possible." your other hand went on your hip to steady yourself further, but eren pulled it away and brought it to his other shoulder, you giving them a squeeze that made his stomach flip. "so that's what i'm trying to do, because that's what she wants, and because i love you."

eren practically choked when the words left your lips. not that he's never heard it from you before, no, being his best friend for so long it was such a casual thing to say 'i love you', and it was actually repeated more often than not. but now, why did it feel any different now? "i love you too..." he said hesitantly, bringing his own hands to your forearms, massaging the skin much like he did your thigh the previous morning. "you're not mad right?"

"no, if you can do better for me i won't be." truth being, he'd do anything for you. you let your hands glide up until you were cupping his face, giving his cheek a playful pat to show you weren't mad at him, then coming back down to tug at his chain, like his mom did earlier. "c'mon, let's go get changed."

and it hit him— he was awestruck.

it all made sense, fleeting touches he would give you, the way he relished in your skin on his, wanting you to be in his presence— better yet in his arms. the way your own touch on his; like you putting his necklace on for him, or you fixing his hair, how he would look at you in awe as you did so, how it gave him a sense of calmness. you were always looking out for him, and he didn't realize he was looking out for you too, always a protective grip on you, pulling him along with you, watching you from afar when he had the chance, searching for you when you've been away for too long. and you, when you would check on him, fix his attire, fix his necklace, taking after what you've learned from his mom just showed the mutual bond the two of you had, but the longer the bond stayed cordial, the longer he longed for you more. so when your hand slipped from his necklace and you began to walk around him he couldn't help but whine your name lowly and tug you back towards him, abruptly spinning you back around and letting his hands hold your jaw as he pressed his lips against yours, not considering the impact of the action in that brief moment.

you were caught off guard, the feeling of his full lips on yours felt oddly good, but it wasn't right— no it wasn't right at all to you, but to eren it felt completely right, like you were made for him, his other hand pulling you closer by your waist, the silk material of your dress underneath his hand making him squeeze tighter as if his hand would slip away.

you tried pulling away, and eren could feel it, your reluctance and your hands trying to push him away, but just a little longer, a little more, a little bit more time for his lips to engulf yours, until you both had to pull back for air, your nails leaving crescent moons on his chest from your efforts to push him away from you. he heaved, a croak of your name coming out as you shook your head despite the feeling of the kiss you shared sending the butterflies in your stomach abroad. "eren, no... i can't, you‚"

"no," he was desperate, his voice having that same pleading tone from when he asked you to get a drink with him at the bar. "it's not like that, this is different!"

your eyebrows pointed upwards, something in you did want to believe him but you couldn't. but then again, what would make him want to do that? when did he ever start finding you appealing? was it the kiss just now that made you realize that this wasn't the eren you always tried to take care of? that this wasn't eren jaeger whos ears would get red when his mom would tug on them, or who convinced her to paint his walls an ugly green, or the eren that'd kick you out of his room? this was eren, who grew his hair out to his shoulders, who joined a sports team and gained abs that rippled under his shirt which you finally noticed, eren who would make small sexual innuendos that probably had more lying underneath it than you thought.

this was eren that kissed you, and you kind of wanted to kiss him back.

"i promise." his lips were flushed, much like his face, small wispy hairs from the bun that would never stay put for too long swimming around his face. his palm still lingered on your waist but his other hand was now gripping one of your wrists on his chest. he never knew how to keep his hands to his self, and that only increased now. you didn't even realize he was inching closer, practically begging for more contact. "my mom would kill me if i played you anyways."

and so you let his lips collide with yours again, your mouths moving in synchronization this time around. eren's hands fumbled for the laundry room light before he tapped your thigh signaling you to wrap your legs around his waist. you knew his intentions but you still obliged. he shut the door and you wrapped your arms around his neck as he carried you to the kitchen light, doing the same as the previous room, him carrying you carefully in the dark, taking his time to get upstairs quietly with you in his arms until you both were in his room, him finally settling you down on the bed and turning on a dim lamp on his desk.

"shit," he mumbled watching you splay out in front of him, although your knees were touching as you laid back to hide yourself slightly while eren fumbled taking his shoes off. your dress was sliding up your thighs, and if you opened your legs you were sure eren would get a clear view of the cotton underwear you changed into that morning.

eren didn't want to be too hasty, he wanted to show you that this was gonna be about you and your pleasure, to show you that this wasn't another one of his flings and that you were important, you meant something to him but he just couldn't see it until now. so he towered over you, watching the way you bit your lip anxiously and it made his heart skip a beat, you were so cute, and he always knew so but the thought only audibly hit him now. he massaged your knees, one of his favorite soothing actions to do to you, until he slowly pulled them apart, feeling you tense up. "it's okay..."

so you moved along with him, and likewise, your dress slid up some more, eren pushing it up to your stomach, you lifting your hips to help him do so. he eyed you, making sure you were comfortable, and he couldn't help but lean down to kiss your lips once more, before pushing you further up the bed so he could lean over you. "you want this too, right?"

you nodded your head, letting out a shaky breath as his kisses trailed down your neck, eren using his arms to support himself as he leaned between your legs. you could feel the denim of his black jeans pressing up against you slightly and you clenched, your knees hitting eren's sides. "you gonna let me treat you right, make you feel good?" more kisses down your sternum, until they reached the cleavage of your breasts, eren looking up at you with those recognizable doe eyes, and you pulled his head back up, fingers brushing against his ears.

"yes, eren." his name, his name on your lips never sounded so nice.

eren turned his head sideways to kiss your palm before giving you a boyish smile then tugging at the straps of your dress. "want me to take this off?" he was so verbal, it made you feel so safe and secure. when you nodded your head he began to slowly pull the fabric off of you. he took his time, feeling every inch of your body, every curve beneath his hands, the softness of your flesh against his knuckles. he almost groaned out seeing your body almost bare in front of him. you were so pretty, it almost wasn't fair that it took him this much time to take action. "pretty." he spoke under his breath, but you heard it, and your hand slowly went to your mouth to hide your smile, your other one wrapping around your own waist to hide yourself, and eren caught on, moving your hands. "stop hiding, beautiful."

the compliments went right up your spine, your eyes fluttering as he skipped over your bra and let his kisses head down south, peppering your stomach in them. he let his fingers run up against your sides, eyes looking up to you for a second to make sure you were comfortable to where his hands and mouth were headed. eren's fingers dusted the waistband of your underwear, his teeth grazing the material as well before he pulled back, letting them snap against your skin, you hissing in response. "eren," you whined, feeling yourself grow even slicker from his onslaught.

"yes?" he said almost tauntingly. you could feel his hot breath over your lower abdomen, and you felt like you were being tickled. he decided to be a little slower, moving his hands to your thighs instead, rubbing at them, his fingers ghosting over your skin the closer he got to your heat, and when your mouth dropped open, the smallest moan came out of your mouth when he let his palm rest over you, he couldn't help but rut his length onto your thigh a little through his jeans.

when your legs spread more between him, he took it upon himself to go back down to the same position he was in, holding one of your legs apart by your knee while the other one attempted to pull your panties over your legs. eren was growing excited watching your hips lift up and your underwear fly across the room. his eyes were dark, hungry almost as he watched you try to close your legs again, but his hand was still holding them open as he stared at your glistening cunt. "damn," he breathed out shakily, jade eyes swapping between the view of your face staring at the ceiling in slight nervousness, and your pussy, sitting pretty in front of him, for him. "let me taste you."

you nodded your head almost too fast, and that urged eren on, him settling himself in between your legs. "you're so sexy," his thumb gave your clit a few test rubs watching your hips buck up slightly, and you could feel yourself pulse, aching for more contact, but eren was being painfully slow. he let his thumb drop down lower until it slide between your folds, gathering your slick on the digit, pride filling his body at how much coated his thumb. "you're so wet because of me." way to fill his ego. you rolled your eyes with a small chuckle that made him reciprocate, the childish smile returning on his face.

"stop..." you said, letting your hand fall to your stomach, the small moment of laughter making you a tad bit more comfortable. eren closed his eyes, pressing his tongue against your clit before flipping it and dragging it down to your entrance. before you could even buck your hips up his hand flew to your side, his fingers pressing into your skin, holding your hips in place, a whine leaving your lips that egged eren on. "fuck," the new sensation of his tongue on you, simply sitting on your hole had you wriggling underneath him. he opened his eyes to watch you, your head thrown back on your pillow, mouth agape your hand now kneading at your breast, bra pulled down around you waist, and eren couldn't help but smirk against your throbbing heat.

"you like that?" his lips moved against you and you visibly shuddered, causing eren to chuckle.

"yeah..."

eren pressed a kiss to your clit before finally letting his tongue slip into your hole, a small gasp eliciting from you as you felt yourself clench around the wet muscle. he audibly groaned, the way you tasted and felt around him making him tighten in his pants. he pushed his tongue in and out, relishing in each of your gasps and the moans you tried to hide. he pulled back for a brief moment, bringing his fingers up to spread your lips. "don't hold back, i wanna hear you." and he slid his tongue up your slit before sliding it back in, essentially tongue fucking you, your back arching as much as possible under his restraint.

"eren, fuck— more," you hissed. it felt almost teasing, you needed something bigger, something to fill you up and fuck you good, and the thought alone along with eren's tongue venturing inside of you made you even wetter, and eren could feel it, slurping at your juices. the vibrations made you yelp out, his grip on one side of your hips tightening while he readjusted his fingers in a v-shape to hold your lips apart.

eren gave you a small break, pulling back for a brief moment to let you calm down before gently sucking on your clit. he let his tongue sit on it then went back down, this time taking his index and sliding it into you, a drawled out moan leaving you. your eyes squeezed shut, and no— no, it still wasn't enough, but it felt so good.

eren smiled to himself, seeing you shaking in pleasure, knowing it was him doing so, and let his fingers do some work, kissing up your thighs then nibbling on the skin slightly, your other leg sliding up and down on the bed and your toes curling. he pecked kisses back down your thigh until his lips met your clit again, lapping at it lightly and letting the cold air hit it before pressing his open mouth against it and sucking, small hums of content leaving him.

"i can't," you could feel yourself throb as eren pumped his finger in and out of you, curling them to hit that sweet spot inside of you and you almost cried out, that familiar feeling of an overload of pleasure creeping up on you. "i'm gonna come," and god, did he want to feel you cream all on his mouth.

"gonna come for me?" eren added another finger, feeling you squeeze around him as he continued to thrust them into you, letting his lips come back to lick at your heat as he fingered you faster while his other hand trailed up and down your sides instead of holding them down. you let one of your hands come back down into eren's hair, finding a grip on the brown locks and pushing his head down further, eren humming in content, sucking harder for your pleasure.

"yes, eren, yes!" you blabbered, the heat in your lower abdomen twisting around as you grind against eren's face until your orgasm tumbled over you, your hips stuttering, back arching while eren slipped his fingers out, taking both of your thighs on either side of his head and helping you come down from your climax while he licked at you until you were back calm yet your breathing uneven.

eren pulled off of you with a pop, his eyes meeting yours, but you only looked for a split second before you let them go down to his lips, covered in your wetness, and he smiled, his tongue slipping over his top and bottom lip. "you taste good, that was good..." he climbed over top of you until his fingers were prodding at your lips, asking for entrance so he could have you taste yourself, and you complied, lips parting and his digits slipping in while your tongue swirled around them. he curved his fingers, pushing them further down your throat as far as possible before slipping them out and coming down to kiss you, the taste of you even more apparent as your mouths met. he slipped his tongue in, grabbing your jaw and kissing you fervently, tongues dancing together for a bit before he reluctantly pulled away, pressing his forehead against yours. "good job."

your hands made quick work of pulling off your bra completely despite the ache from keeping your legs apart while eren shifted backwards off the bed as you watched him unzip his jeans, pulling down his pants until he was left in grey boxers. he pulled those down too, his cock slapping against his lower abdomen without shame and you nearly drooled when he took it in his hand, rubbing up and down the length while coming back over to his bed. you grabbed eren's hand, trying to keep your eyes off of his length making him let out a low laugh. "you scared?" he joked as you brought him down next to you.

"shut up— no, i'm not." your hands moved to his chest pushing him down to his pillows but eren sat back up, placing his own hands over yours.

"woah, it's okay, you don't have to." he realized you wanted to suck him off, but he didn't want to make it about him tonight as to not give you any ideas that any of this was temporary. he wanted to take it easy and pleasure you like he just did, make you feel good, and make you cry out his name, not vice versa. "you lay down." eren flipped the two of you, until you were back underneath him, and he took it upon himself to rub your breast, letting his thumb and index twirl one of your nipples between his fingers. his mouth came in contact with your other boob, talented tongue going to work at your reciprocating nipple for a brief moment before pulling back. "i don't know if i have a condom."

you glance up at eren, a frown forming on your face. you knew he messed around a lot and that somewhat worried you. "you don't have condoms here or something?" your eyes darted around his room.

"it's my mom's house, no i don't have condoms." eren was growing impatient, precum visibly leaking out his tip so he took it upon himself to smooth it down his length while he thought. "i'm clean though, i swear." he added. "i haven't had sex in a couple weeks either." you gave eren a wary look. "i'm not lying."

with a roll of your eyes you nodded your head and shifted around, but eren stopped you halfway, hand pulling your hip back down to the bed. "nah, i want to see your face, gorgeous." just as fast as he slipped out of his alluring mood, he slipped back into it and your lip twitched as his hand ran down your side until it was back at your thigh, eren pulling your leg further from the other. he looked down to position himself in front of you, mouth in an 'o' shape at the sight in front of him. he was about to fuck you, and fuck you so good. "you ready?"

"mhm."

so eren slid himself inside of you, both of you groaning simultaneously until he was buried at the hilt— and this is what you longed for. you felt so full and it felt so nice, the way he stretched you out was indescribable and your mouth hung open, small gasps coming out as your hand gripped at eren's forearm near your head. "fuck, you okay?"

albeit your eyes being squeezed shut and eren feeling like he was splitting you open, you nodded your head hastily, nails digging more into his skin. it had been awhile since you had sex yourself, so the feeling almost felt like your first again. "yeah... you're just, so— big..." you managed to breathe out. you should've kept your mouth shut, you could practically see eren's ego inflate, his lip twitching trying to suppress his smile.

he brought his palm to your face, smoothing over the skin with his thumb. "yeah? well you're so tight," eren pushed a little further until his tip was brushing your cervix, then his body coming back a little bit until his head was a distance above your pussy, collecting spit in the front of his mouth before letting it slowly drop down onto your clit, rubbing it in to soothe you further as he pulled out a bit, tantalizingly slow. "i'll go slow at first."

eren pushed in and out slowly like he promised, but it didn't last for long, his pace quickening fast, but luckily he continued to rub you in circular motions to help ease the pain until it melted into pleasure. "can't believe you're letting me fuck this pretty pussy of yours." he groaned out, his hips rocking against yours.

the way you wrapped around him, squeezing him impossibly tight wasn't fair. you felt exactly how he thought you would, maybe even better, and every thrust of him inside you had him holding back more and more. "shit, _____." his voice came out in a whimper, and his elbows were brought down to the bed while your legs wrapped around his waist in an attempt to pull him closer.

for you, the sensation was incredible, the way he pulled out just before he was no longer inside of you, then pushed in until you could feel him against your cervix, every time he hit it pleasure shooting up inside of you. it had your skin feeling tingly and your hands flying to grip at the sheets, small wails of pure euphoria coming out of you and edging eren on. "eren," you cried as his teeth began to nibble on your neck, sucking on it as well in efforts to mark you. his necklace sat cold against your chest as he sucked on your neck and increased your pleasure.

"yeah, i love hearing my name from you like that, say it again." he almost demanded, pumping into you harder, your body rocking on top of the bed with every time eren slammed his hips into yours, your wetness collecting on his pelvis. "again," he popped off from your neck watching the skin slowly darken, and he knew there'd be a hickey soon enough.

"eren!" you whimpered, rolling your own hips down into his, eren supporting himself on his arms again, bringing one up to wrap around your neck, giving a test squeeze. "fuck..." you choked out as he tightened his grip, almost surprised at the fact that you weren't trying to push his hand away. his fingers tapped against your neck before he pressed harder, coming down to kiss you again, tongue licking at your bottom lip, your breathing shortening from the lack of oxygen coming in or out. he pulled at your lip before making every thrust of his powerful, pulling out slow then coming back in strong.

"so you like when i choke you like that?" he mumbled against your lips before pressing his against your jaw. "you're so dirty... never thought you'd be like that." and finally he let you take in air, palm moving from your neck to your breast, giving it a nice squeeze.

eren lift your hips up a little bit so he could find that spot inside of you— and when he finally hit it you all but screamed, his hand slapping over your mouth and eren's eyes widening. "shut the fuck up!" his tone serious, as you forgot that his mom was only rooms over. you gave him a sympathetic look in apologies as he slid his hand from your mouth.

"'m sorry, but you feel so good..." you pouted trying to kiss him up in excuse. it had to have worked the way eren leaned forward so he could brush against your sweet spot again, this time you gasping.

"yeah? i feel so good?" he repeated.

"yeah."

"'atta girl," you were consumed in ecstasy, the praise, the stimulation, the feeling of his pendant against your skin, everything was surrounding you and that familiar feeling of your orgasm approaching began climbing again, you just needed a little more. "taking this dick like that— and liking it too." eren unwrapped your legs from his waist, his pace speeding up again. "i bet you want me to fuck you like this more often."

you groaned, your hand snaking down to rub at your clit again, and only after a couple rubs were you seeing stars, your back arching again, every nerve in your body being pinched as you came all over eren. a cry of his name came out over and over again and your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

he didn't stop, no, he was close himself, and the way you were pulsing around him as if you were trying to milk him was helping him to his end. your body went almost limp as you let eren finish. "fuck, fuck, i'm almost there too," he bucked his hips into you a few more times before pulling out and letting his hand finish him off, rubbing himself profusely until spurts of white came out flying onto your chest and stomach. "shit." he panted, and you were too, your breathing unstable, chest rising up and down after your orgasm. "shit."

eren rolled over until he was laid down beside you, your eyes struggling to stay open. eren let his rake over you, from the mark on your neck, to his cum splattered on your midsection, to the small sheen of sweat that covered yours and his body, causing some of his flyaways to stick to his forehead. he sighed in content before getting up to go grab a rag to clean you up.

"don't go to sleep yet." he said as he wiped and cleaned you up with a damp rag, cleaning himself off as well.

"why?" you mumbled with your eyes closed as you turned around so your face smushed against eren's pillow.

eren grabbed his boxers slipping them back on and contemplated handing you your underwear as well or letting you stay comfortable. seeing you wake up bare would cause a problem for him that he didn't want to deal with so he grabbed your underwear and helped slipped them on you, then rummaging through his bag for one of his shirts. "come on, let me put this on you." you reluctantly obliged, picking yourself up from his pillow and lifting your arms so he could slip his shirt over your head before climbing into his bed next to you, pulling you flush against him.

"you okay... was that okay?" there he went, checking up on you.

"yeah, you okay?" and there you went, doing the same.

"yeah... that was real good," eren kissed the top of your head. "i meant it when i said this is different." he rubbed your back, pulling you even closer, his legs tangling with yours as the two of you cuddled under the covers. it didn't feel as wrong to you anymore. a little weird? yes, but his words were reassuring. "i want something with you... i do. you do so much for me, we're always together, my mom loves you— i love you... i don't know, i just wanna be with you."

your heart was pounding in your chest, even through your tiredness. "can you show me you can be better first? work for me?" you didn't want to just hand yourself to eren that easy. "i want you to show me how much you love and care for me. get yourself together, settle down, then i guess you can settle down with me later."

"later?" it pang eren's heart a bit that he wouldn't be able to call you his just yet, but he was determined to do what it would take to get you.

"later."

彡

"_____, wake up, my mom made breakfast." your eyes opened slowly at the sound of eren's voice. you turned over to see him dressed, sweatpants and a shirt on his body, hair slightly damp from what appeared to be a recent shower. "get ready, i'll wait."

with hesitance, you got up and got yourself cleaned up and ready. you threw on some leggings and a sweatshirt as you didn't recall any plans with eren nor his mom that evening, and with that you and eren head downstairs, eren's hand holding yours as he pulled you down, but he didn't drop contact with you when the two of you got into the kitchen. instead of holding your hand, he hopped up on the kitchen counter pulling you between his legs where you stood.

"good morning, when did you two come home last night?" carla asked from her position at the stove, flipping a pancake before grabbing three plates from the cabinet next to her and then turning around to face the two of you. neither you or eren missed the suspicious glance she gave you when she saw your stances, holding back her question so you could answer hers.

"probably around twelve... we left early." you said.

"i thought so, i heard something last night but i remembered it was probably just the two of you so i went back to sleep." carla slipped the last pancake onto the stack then handed eren the three plates to place on the kitchen table. "am i missing something?" she said giving you two a one over as she gave him the plates.

"no. there's three people and three plates." eren said as he placed them onto the table, and you rolled your eyes at his stupidity.

"no, like... you guys seem comfortable today." realization hit him as he turned around to his mom trying to hide his stupid grin, which told you to not let him speak.

"uh, me and eren talked yesterday." carla raised an eyebrow at you as she walked past you to put the stack of pancakes on the table, you following behind her to take a seat.

"about?"

eren glanced at you then to his mom as she brought over a container of syrup and some forks and knives. "i'm trying to make _____ my girlfriend." he said blatanly, watching his mom freeze up as she put a fork and knife beside your plate.

"really?"

"yeah... he is." you couldn't decipher her reaction, until a small smile appeared on her face as she pat your shoulder and took a seat with you and eren.

"i'm glad." she hummed. "it took you guys long enough... but why is he trying?"

you avoided carla's eyes, concentrating on pulling a pancake to your plate as eren seemed nonchalant about the whole ordeal. it was his mom, so of course he'd be less nervous about it than you.

"i told him i wanted him to get some things together first."

carla nodded in understanding as she began cutting her pancakes. "i see. that's good, just let me know if anything okay?"

"okay." you and eren said the same time causing carla to giggle.

"i'm talking to _____ not you." her tone had a hint of excitement to it.

she was happy, and something inside you was too.

you weren't sure if eren getting a drink spilled on him was karma or luck.

#eren yeager x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren x reader #eren jaeger #eren jaeger smut #eren yeager smut #eren yeager fluff #eren smut #eren aot #attack on titan #eren fluff #eren x reader smut #eren jaeger x reader smut

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no-droids · 4 years ago

Text

Whenever You Want

Part Fourteen of the Rough Day Series

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 11.2K

Warnings: Listen there is some dirty smut in this one yall okay like I was blushing when I wrote it, it has a very stark beginning and theres a pagebreak afterwards if you would prefer to skip over it. Smut includes oral sex (female receiving) rough sex, sensory deprivation, butt stuff (ass to mouth, anal fingering/penetration) so PLEASE LOOK OUT FOR IT PLEASE. Also there is jealous/possessive mando in this, season 1 Karga makes another appearance, and some angst/fluff towards the end

A/N: Nothing much today yoditos just love you all

***

Din said he’d meet you here.

You’re currently sitting across from Greef Karga in a cantina on Nevarro, a closed shield next to you and a blaster tucked into the back of your waistband, hidden underneath your shirt. You’re barely even looking at him, though—your eyes are attached to the door by an invisible string, forcing your gaze back to it no matter how much it bounces around the room.

You don’t know where Din is, you haven’t seen him in hours. But you do know that when he left, he was moving slower than you’re used to. You don’t think anyone else would notice, but you sure did. Not that he was obvious about it—you only picked up on very subtle hints. Leaning up against things just a bit more than he usually does. Taking slightly longer exiting the ramp of the Crest than his normal strides would carry him.

He didn’t say what he was going to do—just that he needed to find someone before meeting with Karga, and you accepted it. But truthfully, you didn’t want to. You were worried about him—still are, actually. But for all intents and purposes, he was speaking and acting like himself, showing no real signs of exhaustion other than the smallest instances you described before, so you didn’t really have a leg to stand on. He’s been through way worse, and you know it. You just… find yourself worrying about him so much more than you used to, and you need to learn how to gain some control over that part of you.

The kid was still passed out from healing him and you remember Din carefully setting four pucks down in the sleeping baby’s sphere and giving his ears a gentle rub between leather fingers. He turned back to you and told you to meet him at the cantina in three hours, but if it ended up taking him too long for any reason, to try your best to see if Karga will let you exchange on his behalf.

Admittedly, he didn’t sound too confident about it—the instructions were delivered with a tone that implied a doubtful, just-in-case scenario he wasn’t foreseeing happening. Or maybe he just doubted the likelihood of Karga agreeing to do business with you, you’re not entirely sure. All you know is that when he left, you were almost certain he wouldn’t be late, but you also took the time to grab the smallest blaster from his armory before heading out just in case.

Yet—here you are, three and a half hours later, eyes flicking between the door and Karga as you attempt to keep up polite conversation. After turning down his offer of alcohol for the fifth time and still not seeing any glimpse of beskar coming to your rescue, you figure this may be as good a time as any to start the exchange.

During an extended break in the small talk, you slowly reach over to the corner of your booth and press a button on the face of the kid’s shield. It hisses open and you completely miss the way Karga’s hand raises while three of his guards automatically reach for their hips. The little green monster is still snoozing comfortably while you pull out the four glowing pucks Din left you and set them on the table one by one.

They scrape along the top of it as you slowly push them over to him, before sitting back in the booth and clearing your throat, flicking your eyes between Karga and his guards. To you, nobody appears to have moved, so you muster a polite smile at him.

Karga smiles back, but makes no move to gather or inspect the offerings in front of him.

“Um…” you say after a moment, suddenly feeling your heart start to beat a little faster. “Mando… Mando gave me permission to exchange on his behalf.”

“I believe you,” he drawls out in response, but the pucks still sit untouched in front of him as he leans back in the booth and studies you. “Mando has always had a… let’s say, a frustrating penchant for disregarding the pillars of our code. My apologies, young lady, but I’m afraid that I cannot accept these from you.”

Your voice comes out quieter than you’d like it to sound. “Why not?”

“It is… unlawful,” he answers after a moment. “Our organization operates under strict rules.”

Does it? You blink. No, it doesn’t. You’re nothing to the Guild and you’ve sat next to Din quite a few times while Karga talked, listening to him drunkenly boast about return rates and out members by name. You’re not sure why he’s barring you like this, but you’re also not self-assured enough to put practically any spine into it whatsoever. “I’m… afraid I don’t understand.”

“I cannot legally do guild business with individuals not recognized as members in an official capacity,” he sighs, sounding grave and almost apologetic about it, but you don’t know him well enough to know if he’s a good actor or not. “There’s nothing I can do for you besides provide you with my company, not until Mando decides to show.”

Well now that doesn’t make any sense, and you’re starting to worry that for some reason or another, he isn’t going to show. Though it was incredibly well concealed, you’re well aware that Din was still lingering in the final recovery stages when he left the Crest earlier and all you have to go on is his word that he’d be here. Something could’ve happened. Something could be happening right now, you need to push.

“People pick up bounties for extra credits all the time,” you mumble, still way too fucking quiet about it. Maker, you’re not even sure if he could hear that over the sound of the cantina. Speak up, speak up.

“Yes, but those quarry are listed on the New Republic’s most wanted database,” Karga acknowledges diplomatically, educating more than he is arguing, before uncorking the bottle of glowing blue alcohol in front of him and beginning to pour himself another shot. “They’re fodder. Up for grabs—names, last known locations, and biometrics published for the entire galaxy to read.” He tilts his head down at the four metal pucks on the table without removing his gaze from the gradually filling glass. “Those pucks are different, they’re commissions. Tied specifically to Guild contracts.” Karga clunks the bottle back down again and corks it, pinning you with a stare. “For all I know, you could’ve murdered a member of our ranks and come to collect payment for his bounties. Can’t have that.”

Your blood suddenly turns to ice at the implication, eyes wide and your heartbeat rocketing as you look from Karga to the three guards casually stationed behind him. “You—You think I murdered Mando?”

“No,” he says, easily and in the very same breath, before throwing the shot back and wiping his mouth with a grimace. “Not sure I’d care too much if you did. It’s not my rule, but I am required to follow it or risk losing my position in the Guild.”

Shit. Shit. What do you do?

You’re blank, left quiet and feeling increasingly unsure of how to proceed. Karga, however, seems completely unbothered and even appears to be enjoying himself and your company. He gives you another smile, this one a lot friendlier and more genuine than the one earlier, before setting his elbows on the table and leaning forward.

“Look, I want to help you,” he admits, keeping his tone light, “but my hands are tied. Just relax and share a drink with me until he gets here, it’s not a problem.”

Fuck, you don’t like this, and a quick look around brings another reminder of Din’s continued absence. Your chest feels tight, the anxiety starting to compound and make you jumpy. It’s been too long—it’s been at least forty minutes or so of waiting by now and something just feels wrong about this. Not having him next to you feels wrong enough on its own, but when he specifically told you he’d be here?

You clench your jaw and try to work up your nerve. Karga is a nice guy, right? He knows you by name, he knows who you are to Mando. And while you never really thought about the bounty hunter’s omnipresent protection as being anything other than metaphorical, you suddenly realize that… it might be literal, too. How much sway do you actually have here, you wonder? You’re not stupid, you’re not going to try anything stupid, but maybe just another question won’t hurt?

“Well, um… how do you become a member, then?” You ask him, and you watch as he leans back in the booth, raising both eyebrows at you.

“Excuse me?” He asks, though there’s a genuine amusement in his voice. Stunned that you’d even say the words aloud.

“I have four bodies,” you tell him shortly. You’re still quiet about it, but his thoroughly entertained astonishment is beginning to rub you the wrong way. You don’t want to be part of the Guild, you don’t want to be here, you’re doing this out of growing necessity. “One of which I dragged through a blizzard on Hoth by its ankles and put into carbonite myself, so please just tell me what I have to do to get you to take them.”

“I can’t,” he repeats, shaking his head like you’re just not getting it. “New members are only accepted if they bring in an S-level criminal from the database or if they complete a commission that was granted to them by someone of my station—neither of which apply to you. If you cannot present me with any sort of reasonable argument for which they could, then I’m afraid this is not a favor I can swing.”

“I was sitting right here,” you return, suddenly finding your voice. If Karga wants an argument from you to get this to happen, then you’ll do it. You just need to finish this exchange, go back to the Crest, and scan around for Din’s signal. “When you first gave the pucks to Mando, I sat right here and you pushed them over to this side of the table—I was present for the commission and now I’m here to complete it.”

He shakes his head. “But I didn’t give them to you, I gave them to Mando—”

“Yes, but you only wanted to give him three,” you immediately point out. “The last one, the one I told you I put into carbonite—you said you threw it in because you liked me, it could’ve been for me.”

Karga suddenly stops and blinks at you for a few seconds, and you bite your lip, wondering if the logic will hold. It’s flimsy as fuck and you know he could very easily rip it apart if he wanted to. It could’ve been for you but it wasn’t, he gave it to Mando. You also purposefully leave out the fact that you’re also the reason Mando only gave him three bodies in the first place; your only goal here is to complete this transaction as quickly as possible and leave. You don’t like the fact that it’s taking Din so long, and you also don’t like the fact that Karga seems so keen on keeping you here with him, no matter how many reassurances he provides. He said he wants to help you? This can be his chance to prove it.

After a few extended moments of consideration, Karga finally shrugs like he really couldn’t care less before reaching across the table for the pucks and beginning to stack them in his palm.

“What is your last name?” He asks, turning behind him to gesture for one of his men with a jerk of his head. The bodyguard exits the cantina without another word and your eyes flick back to Karga’s.

“Why does it matter?” You ask uncertainly, watching another guard approach with a holopad as he shrugs once more.

“It doesn’t, but we need something for our records,” Karga explains, grabbing the device as it’s tapped against his shoulder without removing his gaze from yours. “I can just use Doe if you don’t feel like sharing—most of our members tend to prefer anonymity, including your companion.”

Your eyebrows furrow even as your heart continues to pound, wondering how they can afford to be so lax about some things but take others so seriously. “You have him down as John Doe?”

“First name Man,” Karga grunts in response, finally breaking eye contact to begin navigating through pages on the holopad.

“Ah,” you say shortly, knowing you’d probably find the joke funny in other circumstances. You’re not out of the trenches yet, you still feel the worry tugging hard at your chest.

“Very well,” Karga announces with a sigh, pocketing the pucks in his leather overcoat and then handing the holopad back to one of the men flanking him after a moment. “Someone is collecting the carbonite plaques from your vessel as we speak.”

You give him a nod, taking a deep breath that you hope is slow and subtle enough to not give your anxiety away. He helped you out, you’re halfway through this. Now comes the exchange. Now it’s his turn to give you the credits and four more pucks, that’s how this should go.

Only, Karga leans back in his seat and cocks his head at you. “Unfortunately, I believe we have found ourselves in the midst of yet another predicament.”

Your heart continues to slam, praying you haven’t somehow majorly fucked things up by getting this far. Din still isn’t here, why is he so fucking late? He nearly froze to death and you handled a dead body just to make this meeting on time, where the fuck is he?

You raise an eyebrow at him, willing the building panic not to show on your face. “Have we?”

“You’re lucky credits are attached to commissions instead of rank within the Guild,” he prefaces, pulling out a large handful of them to begin counting, and your eyes flick around the cantina while you know he isn’t looking, “or else you’d be getting about half of what I’d normally give him.”

Heart galloping when you still don’t see any sign of him, you just decide to keep extra quiet as you watch Karga divvy out a sizable stack of credits, hoping your prolonged silence will protect you somehow.

“The question now becomes…” he lifts an eyebrow at you while sliding them across the table to you, “how many pucks do I give you in return, hm?”

Fuck, you don’t like this, you’re trying to make it crystal fucking clear that your intentions do not extend beyond the perimeter of this table. There’s no you to be found in this deal, you’re just an emergency proxy in Din’s absence and you only inserted yourself in the situation to accomplish that task. “I told you I’m only here to exchange on Mando’s behalf, that’s it.”

“Be that as it may…” Karga glances around the cantina like he’s thinking extra hard about it. This is a made-up problem, you both know there’s no predicament here. He knows you didn’t kill Mando, he knows there’s no real reason to be giving you such a hard time about this, and you clench your jaw as he still seems to take his time considering it. “Tell you what, young lady,” he finally turns back to you. “Do me the honor of sharing one sip of this fine spotchka with me and I’ll give you four pucks to pass along to Mando.”

Okay. Okay, you can do that, if he really cares that much. Karga gestures for the closest droid to come by with a glass for you, but you just grab the bottle in front of him and uncork it without thinking too much, balancing the glowing blue liquid with two hands and diligently taking a small sip of it before setting it down again. Appearing satisfied with your demonstration of upholding your end of the bargain, Karga grins and reaches into another pocket.

“Four for Mando,” he pushes four pucks across the table, “same rate and return as last time, as promised.” You nearly deflate in relief as you quickly gather them up and begin dropping them into the snoozing baby’s shield along with the credits, but then Karga reaches back and pulls out another puck, pushing it over to you. “And one for you.”

You blink at him, frozen in place.

“Lowest level, lowest pay. Not even a criminal by New Republic standards, just a missing person,” he goes on to say, but then quite suddenly…

Quite suddenly you’re absolutely fucking horrified.

You don’t want it. Everything inside you surges up to scream that you do not want that puck. It’s a waste of time, even if it’s an extra job—it’s too much trouble, too much fuel for such a small reward. You already know good and well that Din won’t want to bother, getting this extra puck would be considered a detriment to him.

“What if I don’t want it?” You ask, sounding nervous and vaguely out of breath as you look down at it.

Karga scoffs. “Of course you don’t. Nobody wants these, why do you think I’m trying so hard to pawn one off on you?”

Shit. This is not at all how you expected any of this would go. You know he’s not really asking, even if his tone and continued courtesy implies it’s only a request. There’s an expectation attached to this, and it appears you take too long pondering an offer that isn’t actually voluntary. Karga stares at you and your clear apprehension for just a few seconds more, before finally giving you an ultimatum. “You said you’re here on his behalf. You either take all five pucks now or Mando only gets three next time, your choice.”

Oh. Oh, no. This is a lose-lose; three pucks means more fuel and less credits, five pucks means more fuel and less credits. It’s not like you have any real bargaining power here—almost everything he’s done for you today has been a favor of some sort and you’re well aware that things can always get worse.

Still, you take a deep breath and try your best to throw around whatever weight you have left in one final agreement.

“Give me your word you’ll go back to giving him four from now on, no more hassling or hard time constraints and we’ll take it just this once,” you tell him, trying to conjure and put power behind your words even though you’re unsure if they’ll stick.

“Deal,” Karga readily agrees with a smile, reaching his hand across the table. You have no choice but to meet him in the middle and clasp it, unable to feel anywhere close to good about your performance here. It was clunky and insecure and even though you just barely succeeded in making the exchange overall, you’re massively disappointed in the specifics.

But then Karga’s eyes quickly flick over your shoulder.

“Ah, Mando!” He suddenly calls out, and your hand nearly snatches away from his while your body goes rigid.

Oh, this isn’t good, this is not good. Well, it’s good that he’s here but it also really fucking isn’t. You don’t even turn your head; you sit completely straight and still while the cantina falls to a hush and heavy footsteps begin to approach behind you. You fucked up—you fucked up, you didn’t wait long enough and you feel the sharp regret instantly twist in your stomach. He said he’d be here, why didn’t you trust him? Your anxiety and stress compounded and spurned you to act too quickly, you made the deal a few fucking seconds before he showed up.

And, as Din eventually comes into your peripheral, taking his time leaning his rifle up against the table, you immediately realize that you should not have worried. Recovery isn’t even a word in his vocabulary right now—he’s more intimidating than he’s ever been, more powerful and certain and dangerous while he lowers himself into the seat next to you than he’s ever felt to you before. Everything is so quiet now that he’s here; you feel like even just swallowing against the sudden dryness in your throat turns into an audible gulp. The man sitting across from you may own this cantina and every material good under its roof, but the one sitting by your side feels like he steals the literal air from the room just by walking inside it.

Yet, in spite of the daunting presence of the Mandalorian, Karga beams and tips his glass at him. “I believe you’ve arrived just in time for your favorite part of the conversation, friend. The farewells.”

You stare wide-eyed down at the table as Din leans back into the booth and very slowly extends his arm behind your shoulders, saying nothing at all to him.

The testosterone is radiating from him to the point of near suffocation, you can taste the alpha in the air. Your heart slams in your chest at the unspoken claim he just made with a subtle movement, and though you’ve never been one for masculine displays, this one weirdly feels… good right now. You know it’s primitive and crude and you’re not a piece of meat to be fought over, but it doesn’t feel like that at all. It’s the immediate feeling of security that serves to heat your cheeks, the fact that you’ve been a nervous mess trying to be extra brave this whole interaction and then suddenly you have the backup of an entire army contained within one single suit of armor next to you.

If you weren’t internally panicking at how badly you screwed this shit up, you’d probably be going fucking feral for him right now.

Karga says your name and your gaze snaps to his, feeling like you can’t breathe. “My associate has collected the plaques, nothing keeps you here any longer. It was a pleasure doing business with you.”

Still, nobody at the table moves.

After a moment, you carefully glance up and to the side at the sharp, metallic profile of his helmet. Maker, you can’t explain it—it’s like you feel terrified but not really for yourself, if that makes sense. You’re upset with yourself for not having enough trust in his word, absolutely, but something in Din’s demeanor tells you that he’s going to be considerably less understanding of how Karga handled this situation than the way you did.

The helmet slowly turns down to look at you, and you bite your lip while carefully placing your hand on his thigh brace under the table, letting him feel your fingers brush against the bend of his knee.

He turns back to Karga after a few seconds, still not saying a single word, until eventually Din’s arm is lifted from behind your shoulders and you feel his leather fingers gently clasp your hand, before he starts to rise from the booth and pull you along next to him. You both stand, and he silently presses a button on his vambrace without dropping your grip, urging the kid’s shield to follow along behind him.

“Um, goodbye,” you just barely remember to tell Karga as Din begins leading you away, apparently not waiting for the polite farewells he arrived in time for.

“Wait!” A voice calls out just before you can make your exit, and Din pauses just in time for Karga to extend that damned fifth puck out for you to grab. Right in fucking front of him. “Can’t forget this!”

Fuck. Great. Thanks.

Blood rushes to your face while you go to reach for it, taking the puck and then placing it in the open shield along with four others in a way that you hope is casual but you know isn’t. You close the lid on it and then squeeze Din’s hand slightly, but he stays rooted to the spot for a few more seconds, having watched the entire exchange play out. Though you obviously wouldn’t be able to read his facial expressions even if you could lift your head to look up at him, you can’t will yourself to do so right now. You’re too disappointed in yourself and nervous—you just stand there silently as he looks back at Karga, staring at your feet and praying he doesn’t do anything brash.

After too many moments of uncertainty, you squeeze his hand again and slowly begin to pull on it. Without needing much pressure at all, he goes where you go, and you end up being the one to lead Din out of the cantina by the hand still tangled with yours.

***

The walk back to the Crest lasts an eternity.

Neither one of you say anything at all to each other the entire way there, and you know he’s not mad at you yet, but you’re worried. You feel incredibly self-critical right now and it’s really not helping that he seems even quieter and more wound up than usual. You don’t know if it’s because he already figured out that you just handed him extra work or if it’s because whatever made him late to the cantina also altered his mood, hit a reset button and reminded him of the way he used to be, the armor he’s wearing. Was there a confrontation, you wonder? Is he okay? He seems like he’s… extra Mandalorian right now, there’s not really a better way to describe it.

He doesn’t drop your hand, though. As you pass through the markets and shanty huts lining the streets, Din holds onto you. Shoulders tense and strides heavy, but his fingers stay tangled in yours.

Regardless, you keep your mouth shut and eventually the Crest comes into view. The ramp drops to the ground and the three of you make your way up, and you have enough foresight to carefully drop Din’s hand and lead the baby’s shield over to the unused cot built into the hull walls, closing him in a safe quiet place to sleep and continue building up his strength again.

You turn around to see Din press another button on his vambrace. He stays with his back to you as the ramp slowly closes, but as soon as it latches up against the hull and locks into place, he nearly whips around and suddenly he’s right in front of you, gloves cupping your face.

“What happened?” He asks sharply, the helmet looking you up and down. “Are you alright? Why did you look so scared?”

You reach up to rest your hands on his, blinking up at him and not knowing what to say. How are you going to tell him? He’s gotta waste extra fuel and time on a bullshit quarry because of you, what are you going to say? You don’t even know if it’s last known location is nearby; he might have to fly to some remote, desolate corner of the galaxy just for a handful of credits because you couldn’t wait a fucking hour for him.

“I, uh… I-I’m sorry, I just…” But it’s nearly impossible to form a coherent thought when he’s this close to you and sounding fucking sincere, genuinely concerned about you while you’re stuck worrying about how to break the bad news to him. “Oh, stars, um…”

“Did Karga fuck with you?” He asks in that same sharp tone when you don’t finish your thought, but you’re so absorbed in your own conflict that you barely even hear him. “Because I can go back right now, the cantina is just—”

“Okay wait, please—” You suddenly speak up, “before I tell you, just… please keep in mind that I did save your life two days ago, so…”

“Sweet girl,” Din rumbles slowly, a subtle warning for you to hurry up and spit it out. His fingers tighten just slightly on your cheeks, still so gentle but needing you to communicate with him right now.

Tell him, you just need to tell him. If he gets mad, then he gets mad, but at least he’ll know at that point and you won’t just be springing it on him out of nowhere.

“I fucked up,” you breathe out, eyebrows pulling up in the middle as you tighten your own grip on his hands. “I’m so sorry, I fucked up and you were late and I got nervous and I didn’t wait long enough and I tried to make the exchange like you asked me to but then I had to take a fifth puck and I didn’t want to but Karga threatened to short change you next time around unless I agreed to take an extra one for the lowest pay just this once and I didn’t have any bargaining power and you showed up right after I agreed to the deal and I’m so so sorry—”

You cut yourself off with your own ragged gasp, not having paused once to breathe throughout the entire thing while your expression twisted up with regret more and more the longer he allowed you to speak.

Din stands there in front of you and doesn’t move, hands still attached to your face.

“Okay,” he eventually tells you. Stunted words, like he’s trying extra hard to find them when yours just fell out of your mouth in a complete mess. “It’s okay. You did… good.”

The silence is tense and you’re becoming more and more anxious the longer he takes to speak. He’s lying for your benefit, he must be. When he drops his hands from your face and takes a full step back, you take the gesture as symbolic and nearly launch into panic.

“Maker, I’m so sorry I didn’t wait for—” You start to say, but Din cuts you off.

“Did he make you…” His back suddenly goes a little straighter, voice finding a quiet edge through the modulator as his fingers subtly twitch at his sides, “…Uncomfortable?”

You pull back at the sudden change in subject and furrow your eyebrows.

“Who, Karga?” You have to think about it. Did he make you uncomfortable, or were you just uncomfortable already? You might’ve just been scared because you were making it scarier than it really was, you can admit that’s a valid possibility. “Um… no? I don’t know, not… not really, I don’t think.”

“No?” He asks, taking a small step forward. “You don’t know? Or not really… you don’t think?”

You know you can only see the blade of his visor, but something makes you feel like you’re looking right in his eyes. You even go back and forth between where you’re pretty confident each one is, trying to read his intentions right now. It’s like he’s purposefully trying to keep space between you even though he looks like he wants to move closer, fisting his hands at his sides when he looks like he wants to touch you.

“No, he just… lowballed me towards the end of it and I got intimidated, but I’m also not…” Your expression narrows in concentration while you try to find the words to explain yourself, wanting to be as honest as possible with him. “I don’t know, I’m not like you. I’m not that strong, but I’m trying to get better. I think he was probably just being normal. He did offer me alcohol a bunch, but I’m pretty sure he also did that last time, so—”

“And I didn’t like it the last time he did it,” Din says quietly, taking another small step forward.

You blink up at him, completely dumb. This is what’s bothering him? Is he really not upset with you at all for giving him more work? It’s like the major fuckup on your behalf just went in one side of the helmet and out the other, he barely even acknowledged it other than the role Karga played. He said it’s okay and you did good, which are like… five of the most common words in Galactic Basic, a Wookiee could probably find a way to say them. How are you supposed to take that? Were you just overthinking this whole thing from the very beginning? You know anxiety tends to be irrational by definition, but has none of your panic from the past hour been justified whatsoever?

“Why were you so late?” You ask him, but it’s not accusatory in the slightest. It’s… concerned, worried about his well-being without having a real reason. He’s clearly more than fine right now, he’s like a hurricane enclosed in metal and holding still in front of you. Too much potential energy just waiting for a reason to be released, too much tension held tight and ready to snap.

“I’m sorry.” He quickly reaches out to grab your hand and squeeze it, before dropping it just as quickly. Fucking lightning quick, you’ll never understand how he can be so damn quick with all that extra weight strapped to him. “It took longer than I thought it would and she’s not really someone you can rush.” His response, ironically, feels very rushed, like he’s trying to address the tangent but also keep things on track, but something in the answer he gives catches your direct attention. “Did he flirt with you?”

“Who is she and what can’t be rushed?” You blurt at the same time, not even taking a split second to think about it.

Din stops short at the blunt question, staring at you in a silence that feels like it’s vaguely taken aback.

After a few moments of that… strangeness, of the two of you realizing that you’re both feeling slightly possessive over each other for absolutely no reason whatsoever, you start to feel… warm. In another weirdly stupid, primitive way. You know that letting those kinds of thoughts have their day in a relationship isn’t a good thing, but you can’t explain it. Some deep-seated, prehistoric instinct inside you just goes fucking nuts whenever he gets in either provider or protector mode. Now you understand exactly why he wanted to get you alone after you admitted to being jealous once before. You totally fucking get it, you’re right there with him right now. He hasn’t said anything, but you think he feels it, too.

“She makes things,” Din finally answers you, careful with his words and somehow managing to address your question while also sidestepping it, leaving you with only the smallest bit of information to go off of. “Did he flirt with you?”

“I don’t know,” you tell him honestly. “Maybe. He could’ve just been trying to be friendly. What did she make for you?”

“She made it for you,” he responds, again not really answering the question but continuing to juggle two separate conversations for your benefit. “Did he scare you?”

“For me?” You ask, eyebrows shooting upwards. Provider, that stupid cavewoman DNA whispers to your lower body, making your voice go a little breathless. “You asked her to make something for me?”

“Did he scare you?” Din repeats sternly, grabbing your hand and giving it a firm squeeze. “Because I can go back, I swear—”

Protector, it whispers this time, and your knees nearly buckle.

“Everything is scary when I don’t know where you are,” you admit to him, knowing it’s the truth regardless of how self-deprecating it sounds. The only times you’ve ever truly been brave was because of him or the kid. Stabbing a Corellian and then immediately flying the Crest out to him afterwards, walking through a pitch black forest believing a dangerous criminal was hiding in it, dragging a dead body through snow and shoving it into carbonite, standing up for yourself and pushing a deal through when odds were stacked against you. Though it’s nothing to him, it’s nothing, it’s leaps for you. You’re slowly learning to find a backbone, and he’s the one inspiring it.

Din holds there for a moment, unmoving with his hand still clutching yours. You can’t get a read on him but you know how you feel right now. Achy. Hot. Needy. Wanting him to come closer.

“Will you do something for me?” He asks you after a prolonged silence. His voice is quiet, but… incredibly restrained. Controlled chaos—his body is rigid and he’s flexing muscles that aren’t necessary for just standing, feeling like a sprinter holding still on the starting blocks.

“Of course,” you breathe out.

Din lets go of your hand and tilts his helmet over at the corner of the hull behind you. “Go turn around and face that wall.”

You freeze, immediately recognizing the undertone in his voice. Heat ladles deep into the pit of your tummy, sends warmth pooling downwards. He wants to do this here? Right now?

“We’re—” you look around the enclosed hull, “Mando, we’re not in hyperspace, we haven’t even left the surface yet…”

He looks around too, taking a second to blankly take in his stagnant surroundings like he had absolutely fucking no idea, before turning back to you and not saying a word. Maker, everything below your waist is already stirring, twisting hot and deep inside, but you’re trying to be the voice of reason for a second.

“What if somebody hears us?” You whisper, and Din cocks his head to the other side.

“I can help you stay quiet,” he murmurs, and… fuck. You don’t know what it means, but you immediately imagine his hand held tight over your mouth while he takes some of this stress out on you and you already feel yourself wilting at the thought. Okay.

“Okay,” you breathe without needing anything else at all, before spinning around and standing exactly where he told you to. It’s just a corner near the back of the hull, nothing else here to look at besides two metal panels meeting at a right angle, but that’s admittedly what makes your heart start beating quicker. You can’t see him come up behind you but you can feel it. Slow, measured, but so restrained.

But then he stops almost immediately, before the back of your shirt is suddenly being yanked upwards and you remember at the very last second.

Din carefully grips his blaster and then eases it out of your waistband, the metal sliding warm along your skin from pressing against it for so long. You never told him you took it with you, and he’s so fucking quiet behind you. You have no idea how he’s reacting to that piece of information you originally didn’t think twice about.

“Do you like carrying my gun around?” Din’s voice murmurs soft through the modulator to you, but then the blaster is tossed uselessly to the side, skittering loudly across the floor of the hull.

“Yes,” you reply, beginning to shyly turn your head back to look at him, hoping to gauge his response.

“Don’t turn around,” he quickly interrupts you, pushing your shoulder back into position and keeping you facing the corner. You blink at the metal walls in a bit of a daze but follow instructions regardless, feeling your heart pound at the sudden display of dominance from him. He has a very valid reason for it and you don’t realize what it is until a few seconds later, but even if he didn’t and he was just telling you what to do for the fun of it… you’d still like it.

But then his helmet is carefully being lowered over your head and you shudder as your vision is replaced with a familiar black abyss. Fuck, his helmet, why does he like it so much when you wear this? Admittedly, you don’t have much time to contemplate—as soon as it’s fitted and secure, he spins you around and you have to just do your best to maintain your balance, not having any visual to help.

“Can you hear me?” Din asks, and your clothes start to be ripped off of you. Your shoulders tip sideways with how quick he is about it, feeling him pull the fabric off and hearing the soft sound it makes landing on the floor.

“Yes,” you tell him, but he doesn’t respond, continuing to strip you completely naked in the hull. Once your upper body is bare and he’s yanking your pants and underwear down your legs, you try saying it again as you step out of them, louder for him this time.

“I can’t hear you,” his voice grunts after a moment. You know he’s in front of you but you can’t really tell where, now that he’s not touching you. “Scream.”

You take a second, not having hard evidence anymore but still very well aware that you’re parked close to a marketplace on Nevarro and multiple people are nearby while you’re wearing his helmet. This is dangerous for him, and not sure if you should, but then an arm is wrapping around your back and a large leather palm rests directly over your chest. Din repeats his last word very slowly and clearly for you, waiting to feel it under his hands.

Your sternum lifts while it rises with your deep breath and then collapses as you diligently yell as loud as you can into the helmet, feeling like you might deafen yourself with the trapped sound.

“Good,” he growls, suddenly spinning you around and pushing you back into the metal paneling. “I can’t hear you, be as loud as you need. Hit me or something, put up a fight if you want me to stop, alright?”

Arousal rockets through you and you let out a moan already, taking advantage of the noise suppression and beyond turned on at this point. You feel like you’re buzzing with it, lit up with excitement and wondering with bated breath what he’s planning to do to you.

“Alright?” Comes his voice from behind you once more, and you quickly jerk the heavy helmet in a nod for him. You can put up a fight and you know he’ll stop, you don’t have any problem with that and the fact that he specifically made sure to wait until he knew you understood him makes you start to pant inside the hollow beskar.

But then you feel him flick a small switch at the base of the helmet and then everything abruptly cuts out and goes dead silent.

Nothing. Nothing. You’re standing in a pitch black room where no other sound exists besides your own labored breathing. Just like the waterfall on Naboo, but you can’t speak this time. Temporarily making you blind, deaf, and putting a proverbial gag over your mouth all with one powerful piece of armor.

You shudder and he kicks your legs apart before you can do much else, yanking your hips back while you just try your best to cling to the wall for stability. You don’t know what he’s going to do, you’re completely isolated in here and the only way you can even tell he dropped to his knees is the hot glide of his tongue through your pussy from behind.

Oh fuck—you arch into position as best you can while hands wrap around your ankles to pull them apart, trying to make the angle better. His tongue licks softly over your clit and each time is like an electric shock jolting through your body, making you twitch back and up for him, stretching and begging him to do it again. You can’t see anything right now so your mind readily imagines the visuals instead, providing you with a third party view. Din, fully clothed and face shielded by your thighs, eating you out from behind while you brace yourself against the wall, completely naked and at his mercy, head tilted down from the weight of his helmet and living for the moments he decides to drag his tongue across your clit.

Without warning, a sudden burst of sensation ripples along your backside and causes you to lift the beskar in surprise, but without being able to hear anything, it takes you a second to figure out that he just smacked your ass. The realization comes more or less at the exact time he decides to flatten his tongue and follow the curve of you back and up.

You gasp into the pitch black and there’s a moment where you just hold utterly still for him, experiencing and processing the sensation for the very first time. His mouth is soft and warm as he tastes you here, his fingers digging into the swell of your cheeks to spread you open. You’re glad your face is hidden so he can’t see the shock in your expression, the way your mouth drops and your eyes close as you let him explore you this way.

His gloved hands leave you for just a moment while he continues gliding his tongue against you, along every single bit of skin he can reach, and then you feel a bare hand reach up between your legs and begin to rub slow circles around your clit. His other arm pushes against your lower back and you’re forced into the corner even more, your naked breasts pressing hard against cool metal and feeling his hot mouth and strong fingers work you closer to the edge from behind.

You’re panting into the helmet, your hips arching back to feel that stimulation on your clit better, and as his fingers move over it slow and strong, you feel a soft vibration against your skin and you realize he’s moaning into you. The knowledge sparks a different kind of heat through you and makes you suddenly go still and tense right here. If he stays just like this for even just a few more seconds, you’re going to cum.

“Din, I’m gonna cum,” your voice warbles inside the enclosed steel—just as his touch decides to abandon your body. You groan loudly in distress, completely alone without his hands or mouth on you anymore, but all he likely hears is the silence of the hull and the way your palm smacks against the wall with it. You were so close, everything feels like it’s pulled up so tight and painful and it hurts—

A hand clutches your hip and then a thick cock is suddenly pushing up against your soaking wet entrance, going to alleviate that twisting discomfort. Your eyes roll back and your whole body goes limp as he slowly eases forward and breaks you open, fitting himself deep inside where you love to feel him most. Your hands claw down the walls with a swell of bliss as he pulls out and then starts thrusting—and fuck, you love this. You love the way he’s trapping you up against the corner and making you see stars at the same time, the way he’s supporting your weight but crushing down into you, too. It makes you go boneless and want to riot simultaneously, groaning loud into the quiet abyss as he gives you what you both desperately needed.

One of his hands sinks down between your legs to play with your clit again, while a slick finger presses up against your ass and you gasp as he slowly penetrates you there, too. Din’s hips work steady and powerful behind you, pushing you into the wall with every desperate thrust, using the arm shoved between your legs to support you as well as stimulate, and you just feel yourself move into a different place. You don’t have a name for it but it feels like hyperspace. Silence so loud it feels suppressing, faster than anything light can touch, nowhere and everywhere, hurtling towards something you can’t see but know lies in the distance. You can tell he’s still fucking the tension out of his body, you can feel him working another wet finger inside you and stretching the virgin muscles back there, but every sensation begins to slowly blur together in a wicked uprising of ecstasy.

You don’t know where you are anymore, just that his fingers keep rubbing your clit and you think he's trying to ease a third into you when your destination abruptly arrives.

You nearly collapse when you cum, contracting so hard around his cock and fingers that you cry out unexpectedly—and because of the helmet, you think it’s just as unexpected for him. He stops moving—everything stops moving besides you. Your hips stutter backwards into his stationary body, dragging your clit back and forth against the tips of his unmoving fingers and fucking him as best you can. It shatters white hot and goes straight through to your soul, wringing pleasure and wetness between your legs in waves.

Your knees are knocking against each other when Din pulls out, his cock still deliciously hard and now soaking wet with your cum, and then they just suddenly decide to give up without warning. You don’t fall necessarily, but you do slowly slide down the wall like a slug and Din follows you to the floor instead of holding you up any longer. His sternum moves quick and heavy against your back as he breathes and then suddenly the same switch at the base of his helmet is flicked, and sound bursts into existence all at once.

He’s panting. Harsh breaths behind you that match the rapid pace of his chest, and the ambient noise of the rest of the hull.

“Can you hear me?” He gasps, sounding fucking wrecked, and you nod the helmet against the wall while gravity and exhaustion and his beskar chestplate squishes you into it. “P-Put up a fight if you want me t-to stop, p-please—” he rasps out, almost the entire thing air and so close to cumming, and then his knees lift just slightly and the blunt head of his cock presses against your other entrance.

And, if you wanted, you absolutely could. He’s got you boxed into the corner but he’s not constricting your movements, he’s given you every ability to struggle. You could easily throw an elbow back against his side, push against the wall to shove him away, smack at his arms or even just flail against his body in panic—you could do one or all of those things to signal him to stop and you know he’d do it immediately, he’s asking you to. You could struggle. If you wanted.

Instead, you just grab hold of the beskar strapped to his thigh and drop the helmet to your chest, nearly vibrating with the thrill and preparing yourself for it. You know he’s gotta be inches away from orgasm, you know from the tone of his voice that he’s right there on the edge and it’s not like it’s going to last a long time. Thanks to him, you also feel like you’re just as slick and wet back there as you are between your legs, stretched open by his fingers while you came all over him. You want nothing more than to give this to him, to let him be the only person in the universe that knows how you feel this way.

When you pointedly do not put up a fight and even go so far as to arch your lower back for him in presentation, Din curses and his fingers begin jerking back and forth over your sensitive clit once more. It might normally be too much for you, but your body is sparking with lust and quickly acclimates to the stimulation, learning to burn and ache for it, too. Fuck, it feels so good, you tense and melt into it at the same time, letting him ease you back up to that peak once more.

He pushes up against the tight ring of skin and you can’t fucking explain it—his fingers keep rubbing your clit and he’s slowly pushing into your ass and—

“I—I think I’m—” you suddenly lift the helmet to gasp out in surprise, forgetting he can’t hear you, “ngh—D-Din, I think I’m gonna c—”

He’s just barely able to breach the tight entrance and fit the head inside before he freezes—and even though everything happens consecutively, it’s all so rapid that it feels simultaneous.

Your hips could go forward, but they don’t. Your body decides to send you backwards into him, pushing him inside nearly halfway all at once as your muscles lock down and just fucking strangle his cock. Your piercing scream gets trapped in the silence of his helmet as you cum once more—painfully, madly and with every fucking part of you for him. There’s maybe one or two mind shattering pulses of ecstasy before the rest of your body catches up and starts convulsing, and by then Din is already gasping and fumbling behind you, suddenly realizing what’s happening without hearing the sound of your ragged warnings and then ripping himself away just in time.

He punches out your name when he cums like you just fucking snapped him in half—his body hunches and the beskar digs hard into your back as warmth starts splattering along your skin. You crumple while he shoves his hips up against your spine, riding and working the orgasm out of himself while yours just fucking obliterates you. You think you whine his name—or a curse word or something, but it gets strained and your lungs lose air every time his powerful armored body humps you into the wall of his ship.

Finally he eases up and you just lay there and listen to the ringing in your ears. Blissfully empty, still pulsing from cumming so hard and feeling like your bones just decided to stop existing and the rest of you was okay with it since you were already on the floor anyways. You feel him shudder and twitch behind you, letting go of that last bit of tension until he too allows gravity to slouch his heavy torso over onto you.

You both stay like that for a while, until your eyes close and your everything below your waist goes numb. Eventually you feel him shift and your head bobbles as the helmet is slowly removed, but a large palm cradles your chin to stop your face from slamming into the wall in exhaustion once it’s off. You just continue to melt into the paneling like you’re nothing more than goo of a human being while he trades it back to its rightful place on his shoulders and tucks his cock back into his pants, before wrapping his arms around you and lifting you both up. The floor and metal walls, once feeling like you and them were one, suddenly decide to disappear entirely as you’re hauled up into Din’s powerful arms.

He slowly carries your naked, fucked senseless body over to the fresher, and you squint your eyes open over his shoulder to see… he’s still got his rifle slung around his back while his cum is dripping down yours. Not a single thing on him is out of place and you’re, well… a mess is a word that works. Limp and doll-like, carried like your weight is practically nothing to him after years of having the densest armor known to the galaxy strapped to his body.

Setting you down is a mess, too. At some point you think he just gives up and decides to return you to your humble floor abode with a patience and care unexpected from someone who just defiled you so thoroughly. You hear the fresher door open and the faucet squeak, before he turns back around and crouches to your level.

“Stay here,” Din tells you lowly, his modulated voice coming gentle and warm through the sounds of water raining down against metal. You don’t feel his touch directly, but your hair moves away from your face. “I’ll be right back, okay—just stay here.”

Can do. Easy. He waits until you murmur a soft mhm to him before he leaves the tiny compartment, and then you soon hear his heavy footsteps ascending the ladder to the cockpit.

***

You don’t think you fall asleep, but the powering up of the Crest’s thrusters make you realize your eyes were closed. Opening them barely qualifies as a squint though; you look around to see steam slowly filling the fresher, the water already running hot and welcoming in the small room.

You know you need to shower but you’re so fucking exhausted, you feel like you can’t even move your body. You also know you can just do the same exact thing in there as you’re doing in here, you just need to muster up the energy necessary to get inside it and then fall back asleep. He set you down in the small little space outside the shower door and then got everything set up for you, you can at least stand up and take a few steps.

Unfortunately, you might pick just about the worst time possible to plant your hands on the ground and work to struggle upright on all fours like a newborn animal. The steady rise through Nevarro’s atmosphere pushes gravity down harder than you’re expecting—is he trying to fly quickly or are you just that dead-limbed?—and then of course, by the time you do manage to fight it and successfully get on two wobbly legs to hold yourself up, the subtle shift of the hyperdrive kicking in nearly knocks you back down again. You stumble and grab the walls, bracing yourself against them and looking down at your knees in exasperation. Come on, work. Move forward. Come on.

You’re glad he’s not here to witness this monstrosity, honestly. Just opening the door and taking a few steps into the fresher is a feat—while you’re not in any pain and he didn’t leave any marks on you, you just feel… steamrolled. Ran over by a truck. Only having the strength to keep your feet beneath you as you finally move under the water and close the door behind you.

Oh, but this is wonderful. This was such a good idea, he’s so fucking smart. The shower falls warm and lovely against your body, wetting your hair and immediately heating you down to your bones. You don’t move really at all—you kinda just stand there and slouch, closing your eyes against the spray and slowly breathing the mist into your lungs. It feels so nice—not really restorative even though you like that word, it would imply the water provides you with any energy whatsoever. It just feels like a comfort, a relief and sedative for your already wildly fatigued body.

You haven’t been in here for more than a minute or two when knuckles tap gently against the metal walls of the fresher, before the natural bass of Din’s unmodulated voice murmurs from somewhere beyond it. “Hey. Keep your eyes closed.”

How did he know? You figured you’d be way ahead of him. You’re standing but slumped over, wanting nothing more than to just say fuck gravity and pass out right here. The walls are too cold to lean against now that you’re all toasty from the heat and steam, so you’re just unconsciously swaying on your feet, trying to balance the precedence of sleeping versus not falling over. You don’t even comprehend the sudden flip of the light switch overhead beyond the fact that it makes it easier to snooze without being so bright behind your eyelids.

The door eventually opens at the very same time you realize you never answered him, but you just commit to the silence at this point. It’s easy, you like it. Soon you feel warm hands touch your shoulders, slowly spinning you around while you follow and hang your head, your neck not wanting to support it any longer, and then suddenly a bare chest is pressing up against you and powerful arms are wrapping around your body, and you can just lean all of your weight into him while your head rests right here on his shoulder.

He holds you without moving for a long time, keeping you just like this—your ear pressed against his skin while water rains hot and comfortable down your back. Knowing you’re facing one of the walls, you crack your heavy lids just the slightest bit and finally notice the tiny compartment is dim and shrouded—the only light source is a single one coming from somewhere in the hull beyond the partially closed doorway. It’s dark and quiet and you can barely see anything besides the metallic fresher walls and unfocused droplets chasing each other down Din’s naked skin. Just you and him, flowing water with a sheet metal backdrop.

You think you spend an eternity like that and yet you still find yourself wanting another when he finally shifts, reaching over you to grab a bar of his generic soap but making sure to use the arm whose shoulder you’re not currently resting against.

It glides slow and hypnotic down your back, dragging up over your sides and then back down the curve of your spine. He’s so sturdy and he doesn’t say a word while he does it, lathering it along your body and rubbing it into your skin. His bar of soap, not yours. They started out almost the same since you picked them up at the same vendor, but there’s just a slightly bolder and sharper scent to his that you recognize. How the bar is far larger than yours because of how often he’s gone away.

Your eyes droop and you feel the water trail over your lips, dripping down your chin and pooling the dip of his collarbone. The only other time you two shared this fresher was terrifying and he’s rewriting the memories right now, whether consciously or not. Hot water, not freezing cold. Standing upright and supporting you. Heart beating strong under your ear, taking care of you this time until you can care for yourself.

You… you just worry so much more now, it’s becoming an issue. You didn’t realize how much until you nearly lost him, and you know in your heart that he’s just going to go away again. Throw himself into more danger, tempt death as always, risk his life for mere credits while all you can provide in return is this. Skin to skin contact. Someone to hold. Someone who knows him, who knows the way he struggles between reaching out for a softness that life has always denied him and clinging to what is rough and familiar. Someone to remind him that there’s still gentle and forgiving things in this galaxy that won’t disappear when he’s gone, and that he can always come home to them, as long as he can manage to find his way back.

Something sad tugs hard at your chest. You want to tell him not to leave. Again, again—you want nothing more than to beg him to stay. You don’t have anything better to offer instead; if he asked you how it would work, how you imagine your lives would go if he wasn’t hunting quarry on a constant timetable, you’d be hard-pressed. You don’t know. But you know what you want to say, because it’s two words you shouldn’t say but always find yourself needing to say regardless.

Don’t go.

But, instead of two words, you give him three.

Instead of asking him not to leave you again… in the haze and comfort of his arms, you think you just tell him that you love him.

And… you also don’t think the water falling down on the two of you is loud enough to cover it up this time.

It’s not ideal, you know. You know. From his point of view, he just got finished releasing all sorts of pent up tension on you, overwhelming your body with the strength and power of his in a way that normal people wouldn’t take as an expression of affection. But you know him. You know that he finds it much easier to express the things he feels in a physical way, which is why there’s a bar of soap against your back right now instead of his voice in your ear, telling you all the things you’ve always wanted to hear from him in return. You know that sex is how this all began and it’s likely just the closest link between roughness and sweetness that he can really put his hands on, something that can fit him equally as well as it fits you. Love is different, it’s thrilling and scary. Even to someone like him, who lives everyday of his life surrounded by thrilling and scary things, who’s seen more bloodshed and suffering and pain than you can ever even imagine, you know that it’s scary.

Din doesn’t say anything back to your confession, and truthfully, not a single part of you was expecting him to. It wasn’t said so he could say it back. It just is. Some things don’t need explanations, they just are. You’re okay with that.

But, you eventually come to realize that he always waits until you’re just on the very edges of sleep, holding out until your blurry vision and fading consciousness can trick you into thinking you only imagined it. You won’t ever figure out if it’s purposeful or if he just needs that long to find what he wants to say.

Another soft, lilting sentence in a language you wouldn’t be able to translate, even if you could pick out a single word. It sounds so beautiful though, regardless of how mysterious and far away its meaning feels. There’s something hidden underneath. You ache to know what it is.

But you’re so tired. You just whine softly against his shoulder, not being able to transform the thoughts into sentences anymore but hoping he understands regardless. He can’t just resort to bearing his soul in Mando’a all the time now, especially when you’re always on the verge of sleep when he chooses to do so.

But at some point, his arms subtly tighten around you and the pressure is one of the only things that’s keeping you awake anymore.

“I won’t ever ask you to,” he says to you, the quietness of his baritone getting lost in the gentle spray and your looming slumber. “I’m… not allowed to ask. I can’t.”

Your expression twitches just the slightest bit against his shoulder in confusion, wondering distantly what word or sentence you must’ve missed from before that would make him make sense. Was that a translation? Or a continuation?

But then your wet hair is slowly moved away from your nape and his head tilts down, face pressing into your neck and voice lowering until it’s nothing more than a breath against your skin, nothing more than a confession that he couldn’t ever say out loud with his full chest. It’s a secret he only ever wants you to know, a truth he’s choosing to admit to even though you could ruin him with it. You have no idea how much, you won’t know for a long time just how much power he’s giving you by telling you this one very simple thing.

“But whenever you want to look,” Din finally whispers, the only version of I love you too that a Mandalorian knows. “You can.”

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin #fanfic #reader-insert #rough day #no-droids #smut

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elysianslove · 4 years ago

Note

tobio and practice kissing😩😩 indulge me a bit pls babes😋

yes ma'am i'd love to 😼

"what's kissing like?"

your scrolling on your phone halts, and you twist your head to face your friend on his bed, who's scowling so much you're genuinely scared his face will permanently stick like that. with a soft laugh, you ask, "why're you asking?"

his scowling softens, but only to allow him to curiously raise an eyebrow at you, as if asking you if were stupid. it's a common facial expression of his. "because i don't know?" he replies, like it's the most obvious reasoning there is. you suppose that's fair, even though it doesn't answer your question all too well.

locking your phone, you toss it aside, and shift to sit cross legged right before him. awkwardly, he shifts too, and keeps his eyes looking anywhere but at you. you don’t say anything, unsure of what exactly to say, and instead, you wait for him to speak up. thankfully, he does.

“can you show me?”

it’s quite literally the last thing you’re expecting, but you really, really, really don’t want to freak him out. so instead of widening your eyes and faltering, you steel yourself and clear your throat. “how do you want me to show you?” you carefully ask, observing him curiously.

his eyes hesitantly meet yours, and he shrugs nervously. “you’ve kissed— people before.”

“yeah, i’ve kissed people before,” you repeat after him, trying to encourage him to continue.

“can you kiss— can you teach me?”

this time, you can’t prevent your eyes from widening. “teach you how to kiss?” you echo, as if to make sure. or to process. he nods, and your jaw slackens. “you want me to kiss you?”

kageyama shuts his eyes, breathes deeply, and nods.

“tobio, this isn’t something you give to anyone,” you attempt, and he sits up straighter in response, his hands interlocked tightly.

“i know,” he reassures you, eyes focused. “it’s why i’m asking you.”

it’s how you find yourself, ten minutes later, sitting all too close to him on your knees. he’s cross legged before you, hands resting on and gripping his knees as he patiently waits for you to initiate anything. his eyes scan your face: the widening of your pupils, the nervous and slow flutter of your lashes as you blink, the cherry redness of your lips. it’s almost as if you were the one being kissed for the first time.

“okay, just— i’ll just go for it,” you announce, and he nods firmly, sitting up straighter. “and stop me at any time, yeah? like push me away if you have to. i won’t take it personal. also tell me if you want me to like chew gum or brush my teeth— shit should i? i already did before i came here but—“

you hear your name once, just as your hand lifts up to your face self consciously, and suddenly kageyama’s own, shaky hands are featherlight on your wrists. “just do it.”

“don’t nike slogan me—“

he pushes himself closer, till his face is inches away from yours, and repeats your name. “kiss me,” he pleads, and so, with a sigh, you oblige.

as tentatively and as gently as you can, you lean forward, and lightly press your lips to his. it’s slow and cautious, and you can barely feel his lips against yours. but you don’t rush, not for a moment. he’s not responding too much, mostly letting you kiss him while he barely kisses back, but that’s alright too. when his hands lower your own down to between your laps, you shift on your knees, and shuffle closer, pressing your lips a little harder against his. the feel of your lips so firm against his elicits a gasp from him, and he stumbles back, mouth falling open.

no matter the twist of your stomach and the drop of your heart begging you to continue, you pause, and momentarily pull back. you’re a little surprised to find yourself lifted slightly on your knees, but you’re pleased to see that kageyama’s face is flushed red, and his eyes are a little dewy, like he’s in complete awe.

“you okay?” you wonder, a hand lifting to cup his face endearingly.

he clears his throat, and nods, simply humming. “was that— was that it?”

you tilt your head in question, carefully asking, “do you want more?”

he seems to think it over, for a second or two, before he’s nodding again, a careful hand reaching out for your waist. “yeah, more,” he tells you, and with a gentle okay, you’re kissing him again.

this time, he seems a bit more prepared, and you’re a little less nervous that you’ll break him. he meets you halfway, a little awkwardly, and kisses you. he’s inexperienced and it’s obvious in that he doesn’t know what to do, whether to kiss you back or even how to kiss you back, so you pull apart with and breathlessly whisper, “relax, my love,” before leaning into him once more. he tries his best, and as the seconds pass, he eases into the kiss, the hand on your waist squeezing lightly as you tilt your head more to kiss him better. his lips are soft and sweet and inviting and god you could kiss him all day.

you pull him closer, push yourself closer, pressing your lips harsher and harder against his like he’ll disappear in the blink of an eye and he mewls. it’s a soft moan, a whimper, really, and this time, you’re the one pulling back with a gasp, lips a little swollen with how hard you’d been pressing your lips to his. you meet his wide, desperate eyes with your own fascinated ones before you’re all too quickly pulling him to you with both hands cupping his cheeks and a fire in your veins unlike any other. he moans and moans and moans, and he whimpers and mewls and gasps and pants so cutely that you feel every inch of self control trickle out of you with every second that passes.

“more,” he begs, the moment you pull back to breathe, and you don’t waste a second in catching your breath before you’re kissing him again.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #kageyama x reader #kageyama headcanons #kageyama tobio x reader #kageyama tobio headcanons #sal's fluff tag <3

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golbrocklovely · 3 years ago

Text

never needed // colby brock

A/N: so fun fact about this fic is that i came up with it last year back in november. it was around the time me and my ex best friend stopped being friends. i was really in such a rough headspace, and i think the concept shows it. i just finished writing it today and wow... i still feel this way to some extent, but not fully (thank god). also i literally cried while writing it today so there’s that. hope yall enjoy this one. i'm trying to post a bunch of fics since this coming week is my bday (the 14th). no guarantees, but i'm trying my best to put out at least six things. let me know what you think of this one. see yall later :)

prompt: colby has been ghosting you for a while, just when things were starting to get good between you two. after a week of ignoring you, he’s finally ready to talk. || fem!reader x colby brock

trigger warning: angst, cursing, heartache, crying, honestly this one is really sad so sorry about that, happy ending tho

word count: 2331

~~~~~~~

"Are you fucking kidding me?" I groaned to myself, staring at my phone.

Colby was still ignoring me, something I had grown accustomed to this week. He had ghosted my calls and my texts. He turned his read notifications off too, so I had no clue whether or not he had even seen my messages at all.

Everything had been going great between us. We had met a couple years back and hit it off as friends right away. I always thought he was attractive, and our friendship was always really flirty; so much so that fans thought we were together. And then finally, something clicked a couple months back. I wasn't sure if it was the accidental drunken kiss we shared, or just a built up of feelings, but we finally decided that maybe we should test out an actual relationship.

We promised each other we would take it slow, both of us still heartbroken from our previous relationships and our general trust issues. But these past two months, we went into overdrive, actually taking the time to feel each other out as boyfriend and girlfriend.

And for the first time, I felt happy. Genuinely happy.

A week ago, we had even gone on a cute little date, something we had started doing regularly. We were in the middle of our conversation; I remember I laughed hard at something he said. It was loud enough that some of the patrons in the restaurant stared at us. And when he tried to shush me jokingly, a silence had fallen over us.

His face dropped suddenly, he became super serious and quiet, and then he asked if we could go home.

He told me the next day that he thought he got food poisoning and it just hit him in the restaurant. I didn't think anything of it and was fine with going home early.

But now, I wonder if he was lying.

I looked back down at my phone, reading over my messages from the past week to him.

Was I taking this too far? He could have just been busy. I don't wanna come across as clingy.

"Ugh, fuck that." I muttered out loud to myself, rolling out of my bed to get a drink.

I didn't care if I came across as clingy. I had a right to know why he was ignoring me. If it was work related, he would have told me. He had done that in the past before.

This was different, I just knew it.

Tomorrow, I planned to go over and see him. I would have done it tonight, but I knew he wasn't home. He was out with some friends at Saddle Ranch. Like a fan, I had to watch his stories on Insta, since that was the only way I knew where he was.

"Don't expect too much from him." Sam said.

I shook my head at that memory. When we got together, everyone was happy for us. But I could feel a certain tension in the room, a certain caveat that wasn't being mentioned. Later that night, Sam and I were by ourselves, and he asked me if Colby and I had really made our relationship official. I told him we hadn't gone all the way, but that we were taking it one step at a time.

"I'm happy for you guys, really. I just wonder..." His voice trailed off.

I cocked my head. "Wonder what?"

"Look, I love you both, but I don't know if Colby is really ready for a relationship. There's a lot of things he still needs to work through." He stated.

"We're not that serious." I laughed.

"Yeah, yet. If you plan to be, I just don't want you to get your heart broken because he wasn't ready." Sam admitted.

I patted his shoulder lightly, smiling. "Relax, Samuel. Everything will be fine."

"Alright. Just... don't expect too much from him, okay?" He mentioned, his eyes narrowing on mine.

That had been two months ago and... I think I should have heeded his warning.

A loud knock at my front door brought me out of my thoughts, scaring me. I grabbed a knife from my kitchen, striding over to the door. I glance through the peephole to see who was there.

Colby's face stared back.

"Y/N, it's me. Can you open the door?" He called.

I scowled at him through the peephole. "Sorry she's not home right now. Maybe you should try responding to her texts.”

“Look I'm sorry, but that's why I came over. I wanted to talk in person.” He replied.

“Damn, that’s a shame. Too bad she’s not home!” I exclaimed angrily.

“C’mon now, don’t be childish.” He remarked.

I swung the door open, holding back from yelling into my hallway. “Childish?!”

He smirked at me. “I knew that would get you to open the door.”

“You’re not funny.” I deadpanned, glaring at him.

“Can you please let me in? I seriously want to talk.” Colby responded, his eyes landing on mine.

“No, Colby. It’s one o’clock in the morning, I don’t feel like talking, and you’re drunk.” I jeered, resting my hands on my hips.

He scrunched up his face dramatically. “No, I’m not. I only had like two drinks.”

“Oh my mistake. I figured a person that randomly comes over to talk at the ass-crack of night is usually drunk,” I quipped. “Don’t you have better things to do, like be at Saddle Ranch?”

He stepped back, raising an eyebrow. “How��d you know I was at Saddle Ranch?”

I could feel my cheeks heat up. “Because… I watched your stories.”

“Nice to know you pay attention to me,” he uttered under his breath. “Please let me in.”

“No. Fuck off, Colby.” I hissed.

He rolled his eyes at my comment. “If you don’t let me in, I’m just gonna make noise out here in the hallway until you do.”

“Bet.” I huffed.

“What was your favorite movie again… ‘10 Things I Hate About You’?” He questioned, stepping back further into the hallway.

I blinked. “Yeah, so what?”

He looked up at me, giving me a devilish smile. “…You’re just too good to be true.”

My face dropped at his voice. “Colby.”

“Can’t take my eyes off of you.” He sang, pointing at me.

“Are you really-” I started.

He cut me off, running his hands down his body. “You’d be like heaven to touch.”

I hushed. “Seriously stop-”

“I wanna hold you so much.” He closed his eyes, wrapping his arms around himself.

I grunted, smacking my hand towards him. “Colby, it’s one in the morn-”

“At long last, love has arrived.” He opened his arms wide.

“Shut the fuck up!” I whisper-shouted.

“And I thank God I'm alive.” Colby praised up towards the ceiling.

I retorted. “You’re fucking embarrass-”

He spun in a circle slowly. “You're just too good to be true.”

“I knew giving you the code to my apartment was a bad idea.” I grumbled.

“Can't take my eyes off of you.” He winked, pointing at me again.

Colby took a big inhale, ready to start singing the music, but I grabbed his arm and pulled him into my apartment.

I slammed my door shut, locking it quickly. “Next time you do something like that, I’m gonna kill you.”

“That’s not very- why do you have a knife?” He motioned toward the knife sitting on my side table.

“What-? Oh, I thought you were an intruder.” I explained.

He lightly smiled, his dimples appearing. “You think an intruder would knock?”

I snapped, annoyed. “Aren’t you here to apologize?”

“Right, right,” he cleared his throat, his demeanor changing. “Y/N, I’m deeply sorry.”

“Sure.” I narrowed my eyes, walking towards my kitchen.

He followed me. “I know what I did was fucked up. I should have responded to you.”

“You completely ignored me for over a week.” I informed him, resting my back against the counter.

He nodded. “I know. I shouldn’t have done that.”

I crossed my arms uncomfortably. “…were you busy?”

“No, not really.” He divulged, dropping his head.

“So, you purposefully ignored my calls and text…” I could feel my hands shake against my arms.

“You make it sound bad-” He mumbled.

“It is that bad.” I emphasized, stopping him. “Colby, you wanna talk about being childish? That shit was childish.”

He agreed. “I know it was.”

“Obviously not since you keep joking about it.” I argued.

“I’m not trying to joke,” he protested, running his hands through his hair. “Do you wanna know the honest to God truth?”

“Of course I do.” I answered, furrowing my eyebrows.

He exhaled, glancing at me. “When we first got together, even though we were taking it slow, I was terrified to date you.”

“Terrified?” I puzzled.

He swallowed hard. “Yes. Scared shitless.”

“Why?” I questioned.

“I thought it was because I didn’t want to ruin our friendship. But then… at dinner,” his voice lowered, his shoulders dropping. “I realized it was more than that.”

I shook my head, confused. “What are you ta-”

“I’m falling in love with you, Y/N.” He confessed.

His words made me step back, my breath hitching in my throat.

I choked. “What?”

“When you laughed really hard, and did that cute snort thing you do, I remember we looked at each other… and all I saw was you,” his eyes bore into mine, causing goosebumps to rise all over my skin. “No one else in that restaurant existed. And in that moment, I wanted to tell you I love you.”

I stammered out words, unable to think clearly. “S-so… you-”

“When I felt it, I knew I had to go home. Because I was just so shocked at the feeling. I haven’t felt that way for anyone in a long time.” He sighed exhaustingly, “and… I apologize that I ignored you. Every time I saw your messages, I knew I should have responded. But my body, my mind, wouldn’t let me.”

I frowned. “Because you love me?”

“Because… I’m scared to love you.” He admitted.

A heavy silence fell over the apartment. I shuddered out an exhale, not even noticing I had been holding my breath in for so long. Colby closed his eyes, twisting up his face, and turned his back to me.

“Why are you scared to love me?” I gulped, scared of his answer.

His shoulders tensed as he gripped the counter. “The last time you felt heartbroken… did it leave you feeling empty? Because that’s how I felt… for so long. It’s not even the empty feeling that bothered me. It was the fact that I knew something used to be there… and now it’s gone. I miss who I was before.”

I opened my mouth, but no words escaped.

“I have this deep, guttural feeling that you’re gonna realize I’m not worth loving, and that there is someone else out there that is, and you’re gonna leave me.” His voice trembled as he spoke, “everyone… always leaves me.”

I gasped quietly. “Colby-”

He turned back to me, his face becoming red. “I just feel like no one ever needs me, you know? Like some people only keep me around because they don’t have the heart to just tell me they don’t care anymore. Even Sam has someone else.

I consoled. “That’s not-”

“And I know it’s selfish to want everyone around me to only want me. I don’t really feel that way. I just… don’t feel like anyone really needs me as much as I need them,” his chest quaked as his breathing began to speed up. “And when you realize it too… I don’t think I can live through that fall out again. I don’t think I’m gonna survive it.”

“Wait, Col-” I murmured.

“At that dinner, I had this gut-wrenching anxiety come over me; a voice in my head that said ‘she’s gonna leave you too’ and… I’m just so sorry.” He panted, his eyes welling up.

I wrapped my arms around him tightly, pressing his body into mine as hard as I could. He buried his face into my neck, his body almost going limp against mine.

I couldn’t help my own tears spill as they landed on his shirt. “Baby, why didn’t you tell me you were feeling this way before?”

“I was ashamed. I should be stronger than this.” He fumed through his tears.

I rubbed his face lovingly. “Who said that? You are strong. Expressing your emotions is strong.”

He nodded, croaking. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. Can you forgive me?”

“Of course. How about tonight you stay over, and then in the morning, we’ll talk about this more? Okay?” I suggested, resting my hands on his forearms.

“Yeah.” He whimpered.

I smiled brokenly. “Come on, let’s go to bed.”

I lightly grasped Colby’s hand, pulling him slowly into my bedroom. He stumbled along, his head remaining down.

I sat him down on the bed and slid off his jacket, placing it on my dresser. I cupped his face, tracing his jaw with my fingers. His eyes finally landed on mine as I tilted his head up.

I leaned down and kissed his lips, resting my forehead against his.

“I’m not gonna leave you, Colby.” I stated, gazing into his eyes.

He begged in a hushed tone. “Please don’t.”

“I won’t. I promise.” I reassured, kissing his forehead.

I walked over to the other side of my bed and laid down. Colby kicked off his shoes, taking his belt off and pulling his jeans down. After getting undressed, he slid into bed with me, laying his head down softly on my chest. Wrapping his arms around me, he buried his head into my neck again, sighing against my skin. I ran my fingers through his hair, a light hum falling from his lips. I ran my other hand up and down his spine, feeling him shiver under my touch.

“We’ll be okay, Colby.” I whispered.

#colby brock #colby brock fanfic #colby brock fic #colby brock fanfiction #colby brock oneshot #colby brock x reader #colby brock one shot #colby brock angst

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limitlessgojo · 4 years ago

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Going to a Private Onsen with Gojo

NSFW Gojo Satoru x F!Reader, established relationship

Type: One shot. This is around almost 4k words.

Warnings: 18+ NSFW content, Voyeurism, exhibitionism, daddy kink, squirting, overstimulation, praising, dom!Gojo, breeding kink, slightly manipulative/ Yandere Gojo, degradation

Notes: finally got to finish this fic, my motivation just dropped halfway lmao. The inn house has rooms with private hot springs. Not shared like the communal ones in public bath houses. This is half fluff half smut.

The private hot springs per room are separated by bamboo trees and wooden walls. (With holes. So you know what's gonna go down👀💦💦💦)

You and Satoru finally get the chance to have a 2 day 1 night short break from work. He takes you to an inn, checking in a tatami room with a private hot spring (onsen) included. The place smelled fresh, and you could smell the flowers outside.

"We can see the hot springs from here love. What do you think? It's gorgeous isn't it?" Satoru wiggled his eyebrows at you. You both set your luggage down, making yourselves at home. The sun is still high up, it is only 2:00pm and the hot spring is steaming, the sunlight making the water shine and glitter.

"It's not bad at all; the room is quite big as well." You smiled. Despite knowing that you're only stroking his ego, you let it go for once. Just this once because it is a special break after all. He internally pats himself on the back, beaming at you. “Glad you like it. Let’s take a walk around the area and then come back for dinner.”

“Fine with me”. Both of you changed into traditional clothing first. Gojo into a Yukata and you into your kimono. He helped you tie your obi and do your hair up. "Look how pretty my kitten is." He practically purred out as he cinched your waist beneath his large hands. His hands felt like fire on your waist.

You flushed, softly calling out his name. "N-not now." You stared at his profile. All lean and muscular. Knowing his physique hidden under the blue fabric did nothing to help.

"Not now." He agreed. But the glint in his eyes said otherwise. Still he held himself back.

So you both set out, exploring the town. The stalls were bustling with people. You both bought souvenirs for the students as well as omamori (charms) for various purposes.

You visited the temple and just tried to relieve the pent up stress from the last few weeks. “The air is so cool and it smells really nice here.” The flowers were all in bloom, as it was spring as of now. Satoru, however, kept his eyes on you for most of the time instead of the scenery around him.

“Yeah, it’s real pretty isn’t it? Wanna take some photos?”

“Good idea! I need a new lock screen pic of us Toru!” you smiled. Your smile unfortunately dimmed upon noticing other women staring at Satoru and batting their eyelashes at him (ignoring the fact that you were right beside him).

You’ve always known that he was a gorgeous person, just thanking your lucky stars that he actually came around to reciprocate your feelings. “Hey”, Satoru cupped your face and turned it to face him. He was pouting. “Focus on me love. This trip is just for us.”

You gave him a weak smile. “Yeah, sorry about that. AH! I wanna have a picture by that Sakura tree~”. You tried to be more enthusiastic and engaging, blocking out any jealous and negative thoughts.

Seriously, it's not like you didn't trust him. Just that your insecurity gets to you sometimes. You quickly bat the thoughts away. Your thoughts came to a halt when you felt something soft on the corner of your lips.

"Love you." Satoru murmured against your cheek. You turned to see his eyes under his drooping sunglasses just an inch away from yours. You couldn't help but sigh in admiration. Of course he knows how you feel. "I love you more Toruu~ Now let's go." You gave him a genuine and bright smile. Walking over to a shaded area near the lake, surrounded by tall grass.

He leaned down to press his cheek against the top of your head and placed one arm around you. His other hand was holding up his phone for a selfie. After you took some pretty and funny photos, he surprised you by bringing out a polaroid.

"Eh?! Since when did you bring that with you?" You asked him. Satoru gave a sneaky smirk, "Well. Since you talked non stop about loving the vintage aesthetic recently, I thought it would be good to make a small scrapbook or photo album of this trip."

".... who are you and what have you done with my husband..."

"Hey! That's rude. I'm always nice and sweet." He pouted and widened his eyes, using a finger to push down his shades. "I knowww~ Just kidding Toru, I love your ideas. I'll help you with it then."

"Of course you will pumpkin." He squeezed you against his side, not caring about anyone who might be looking at both of you being overly affectionate in public.

He took pictures using the polaroid camera every now and then. Taking your hand and leading you around, Satoru did not give your thoughts a chance to move away from him. He didn't hesitate to tickle you when your guard was down and poked at your cheeks with the most annoying grin.

After that it was just you and him. Enjoying your precious time together, undisturbed by anyone else. By the time the sun was setting, you dragged him over to an Izakaya. "Should we have dinner here?" You asked him.

"Ooooh! Looks like they have good meat and eel. That's fine with me." He replied. You both enjoyed dinner and had a bit of sake. Satoru always looked cute with flushed red cheeks and that big stupid smile of his. "Well you look cuter than me for once Hun." He quipped back.

You smiled as you wiped that teriyaki sauce off the corner of his mouth for him. It was a really peaceful day.

Walking back to the inn, you noticed a shadow moving quickly just by the corner of your eye. This is why you don't think about work during your free time. Feeling chills run up your spine, you turned to see a curse, staring straight back at you. "Ah shit I left my sword back in the inn."

Not even having finished your sentence, you watched as Satoru flicked his wrist and took down the 2nd grade curse in an instant. "I told you not to worry darling. I'm not going to let anything hurt you." He tutted and booped your nose playfully, eyes shining.

"Heehh~" you pretended not to be impressed but by the look on his face, you knew you didn't do a good job of hiding it. He just chuckled and wrapped his arms around you. "Toru I can't walk like this."

It was like trying to lug a 190cm tall clingy infant. "I'll protect you with my infinity from all sides love." He looked really happy, just prancing around with you in his arms as you both made your way back to the inn.

💜💜💜

You both settled back in and got ready to take a bath. It was a really good day and everything went smoother than you thought it would, knowing your chaotic and unorthodox doof of a husband.

"Dinner was so good. This was a great idea Toru, thank you." You smiled up at him. He smiled back, so soft and gentle with you. The way he never is and never will be with anyone else.

"Now then, I'll be taking my payment from you." You looked up at him, confusion evident on your face. Your husband of 5 years still confuses you until this day. "I'm sorry?" you felt affronted as you asked the question. You had no problem paying your share of the bills, heck you earn a lot as a 1st grade Jujutsu sorcerer yourself.

But Satoru spent about over a month pestering you about wanting to treat you to a short staycation with him. "Yes", he replied slowly making his way towards you, towering over your shorter frame. You stood your ground and craned to look up at him.

"Thank you for the meal sweetheart. You will be my dessert." He removed his glasses and threw them aside to showcase his bright blue eyes. You shivered from the intensity, and his lips turned up in a smirk. His words were somewhat funny, but his tone was dead serious.

He wasted no time, leaning down to suck down on the juncture of your neck and shoulder, after he pulled one side of your kimono off your shoulder. "Sa-Satoru!!, hah- ", his grip on you was way too tight.

"Baby, I am so sorry I can't wait any longer. Won't you be good for me?" Satoru asked as he took a step back and cupped your cheeks in his hands.

It's true that this man has no self-control, always palming your ass down the hallways at Tokyo Jujutsu High. But you rarely see him as desperate as he is now, that it was actually endearing to you. So you relented, earning a grin from the man.

He helped you out of your kimono, littering small kisses on your forehead and cheeks, before he started biting on one ear.

Unclasping your bra, he reached down to grope your breasts. You stared at him as he suckled on one nipple while toying with the other. His eyes opened to meet yours, and you could feel the growing wetness between your legs.

You also reached up to pull his Yukata off, undoing the tie on his waist. "I love it when you hair is done up darling. I can bite as much of your neck as I want." He growled out against your shoulder, biting and sucking wherever he can.

Your mouth watered upon seeing the outline of his hard-on straining against his boxers. On the other hand, Satoru stared unashamedly as you pulled down your panties, keeping your legs together to keep your slick from dripping down your legs.

Impatiently, you reached up and ran your fingers through his locks. "Satoru~" you whined. He only smirked in response. In one quick movement, he gathered you into his arms and brought you over to the small washing area with the soap and shower-head.

He was still in his boxers however. You just stared at it, drawing closer to press your hand and rub the outline. He let out a long moan, which led to you to quickly look up and snap out a hush. "The neighbours might hear us Toru." You whined.

"Tch, Let them hear. They can't touch or experience us anyways. And I want to show off my lovely little wife." He leered down at you, finally removing his wet boxers and throwing it onto the ground.

His hard cock sprang up and slapped against his abs. As if moving by some force, you immediately dropped to your knees. Rubbing soap onto his waist, thighs, and finally pumping his cock with your soapy hands. You looked up to him as you "cleaned" him off with innocent eyes.

Satoru wasn't impressed. "Don't tease me baby or you'll regret it." He pulled you up and brought you into a deep kiss. You both gathered more soap and started washing each other off.

With his hands moving slowly down the sides, Satoru didn't hold himself back from touching every nook and cranny of your body. From your neck, to your shoulders, down your breasts, going to your thighs and legs. His hands were rubbing at your skin, inching nearer and nearer to your cunt. Until he suddenly pulled away, making you cry out at the loss of contact.

"Be good for me and let me clean you first kitten." He whispered.

No other words were shared as you both rinsed and washed each other off before moving to the onsen.

"You know, I've always wanted to fuck you in a hot spring." Satoru smirked as you both dipped into the water. You sat on his lap and clasped your hands behind his neck, straddling him. His hands gripping either side of you waist tightly.

"No I don't know." You turned away from him as you rested your head against his chest. He hummed. Both of you resting for a bit. You were both in the same state, antsy for action, but trying to enjoy the hot springs at the same time.

For a while you both just stayed soaking in the hot water. Until you started grinding down against him. He just stared down at your figure. Breasts spilling against his chest, the slope of your s line with your ass under the water. But you refused to meet his eyes.

Satoru didn't really like that very much. He pinched your thigh hard. "Ow!,' you yelped. "Toru what was-" you finally turned to look up at him, but faltered and stopped moving. His eyes were bright and his expression dark. "I thought my baby was going to be good for me tonight. You don't wanna beg me later just to come right? Or does daddy have to make you do just that?"

As soon as he said the word daddy you felt your insides clench around nothing, thighs quivering. He looked down towards your body, grinning at your response. He pulled you out of the water, sitting down on the ground beside it.

"Suck me off baby and I'll consider making you cum."

You crawled over on all fours towards him. You kissed him first, then trailed downwards, licking off the water and sweat on Satoru's abs and the outlines of his hard muscles. He groans while staring at you, pupils blown so wide his bright blue eyes actually look dark for once.

You can see the carnal lust raging behind him as you squeeze your breasts together while kneeling and licking his abs. You leave small butterfly kisses as you slowly make your way down to his aching member.

But, he groans as you skip past it and suck love marks into his lower thighs. "Pumpkin, please -UNGH, p-please don't tease so much." Satoru groaned. You smirked up at him, meeting his eyes while sticking your tongue out and licking one of his balls. Sucking it into your mouth and covering it with your spit.

He reached down to lift your chin up, thumbing your lips as he watched the saliva trickle down down side of your mouth to his fingers. The current sight of you is so lewd and dirty that Satoru almost came on the spot right there.

You decide to humor him and move to licking the head of his dick, while grabbing a hold of the base and slowly pumping it up and down. Satoru threw his head back. He looked up, seeing the night sky and the stars twinkling while feeling hot pleasure run through his body. He felt like he was floating.

You tried deepthroating all of him in one go, but he was just too big. "Baby, your mouth is too small for daddy's cock isn't it?". You whimpered in response. Trying to swallow as much of him as you can while using your hand for the remainder of his length.

Quiet mewls escaped the sides of your mouth as you opened your aching jaws wider. Tears started running down your face. You didn't stop as you relaxed your jaw and took more of him, swallowing what you can while pumping. He bucked up without warning, causing your gag reflex to react. Then he pulled you off.

"That's enough for now. I wanna make sure I stuff every bit of cum I have inside of your pussy baby." He pulled you up over him, this time with his back to the floor as he spoke.

"Lemme eat you out, I've been waiting for this all day." He was salivating at the sight of your pussy, positioned in front of his face. You lowered yourself onto him slowly. Impatiently, he tugged you waist down, smashing your lower lips against his mouth. You let out a loud yelp followed by heavy breaths and mewls as he ate you out.

Thrusting his tongue in and out of your walls. He loved the taste of you, always thirsty for more. You tried to grind your pussy against his face. But he held your legs in place with one arm, wrapping around your behind. The other hand was playing with your clit.

In no time at all you were sobbing and cumming all over his face. Satoru didn't spare you one second of rest. He pulled away and lined himself up, pushing into you during your orgasm.

He immediately started fucking into you earnestly, grabbing a hold of your waist and lifting it to pull you on and off his cock. "Toru, it's too much for me, I can't-" You could barely get the words out of your mouth as you slurred them out with your eyes shut.

"Yes you can. I know you can. Because you're made for me and only you can do a good job for me like this love." Satoru grunted as he pumped into you like there was no tomorrow.

He loved it when your walls clenched and squeezed against him tightly. Especially when your whole body shook during an orgasm. Whenever you open your eyes all you can see are the stars blurring due to your movements. You both came like that, with your backs arching. His cock stayed hard, twitching as it spurted and filled you up.

He suddenly felt the sensation of eyes on him. As the user of six eyes, his senses were wide alert at ALL times. He looked to the side of the wooden wall, and saw dark eyes staring back at him.

He didn't stop thrusting. You whined and mewled as you ground your hips against his. "Fuck, such a slut for me. Love it when you cry and make those noises babe. Just look at me. I won't look at any other person, man or woman. I'm yours as long as you're mine." He growled out.

He pulled out to reposition you. Dragging your body on top of his. Your back against his chest. "Daddy, I want you. I want more!" You whined out. You positioned his cock at your entrance.

"Daddy will give his baby what she wants. You've been so good to me after all love." He smirked inwardly pushed back upwards into you, thrusting at a fast pace. (Satoru chose the position because he knew you were both being watched. He loves to make other men so jealous of him having you).

You could only squeal and try to hold yourself up against him, putting your palms against the floor. But it was no use. He grabbed your thighs and kept fucking up harder and harder, making it hard for you to hold onto anything.

"Yes just like that baby. You're so good to me. You don't need to think. I'll make it so that you don't have to do anything else. You only need to feel my cock yeah? My doll is the best when she is crying on my cock." He moaned out.

The man on the other side of the wall was joined by a few other men. Satoru used his ability to see through the wall following the movement of their cursed energy and saw that they were touching themselves to you.

"Daddy, please more. Daddyyy~" you were slipping further into subspace. Soon you couldn't speak clearly anymore. Just babbling nonsense while bouncing on Satoru's lap and staring hazily up at the sky.

"I think we have company." He laughed out. You snapped out of your haze to see peeking eyes behind the bamboo sticks. Satoru just thrusted harder. "Let's give them a show of their lifetime hmm? I spy old men wanting some action. But they won't be able to touch you baby."

He reached up with one hand to grope your breast and the other stayed below to play with your clit. Sex to him was almost like an art form. He knew exactly how to play with your body to bring you to your strongest orgasms.

You tried to cover your body up but he pulled your arms away. "Don't run away baby, daddy's here to protect you. It will be okay."

At the end of the day you trusted him and his six eyes, so you let go. Pussy clenching harder at the thought of being watched by unknown strangers.

"That's it, my angel. So good for me. You're leaking far more than normal slut. You like it when people watch you get fucked?"

He reached up with his cum stained hand to spit into it. Then shoved his fingers in your mouth. You obediently suckled on and cleaned his fingers for him. He continued to grope you as he pounded away.

Satoru wasn't too worried about the spectators next door. He can see them clearly. Several middle aged men (probably sharing a larger room) messily jerking off to both of you. He saw the way their eyes travelled across your breasts and cunt, which was oozing with his cum.

He hit a hard deep spot inside of you which caused you to squirt hard, a large amount of liquid spraying out. Satoru quickly put his hands over your clit and furiously rubbed at it, wanting to prolong your squirting. You were crying out loud at this point. It was just music to his ears.

One man groaned out, causing you to tense and tighten and Satoru to moan out.

"You love putting a show on huh baby? We should do this more often if it gets you tighter and wetter around me." He snarked out while you drooled and asked for more.

He didn't stop thrusting until he came a few more times inside of you, changing positions.

The men watched as you rode him, your breasts bouncing up and down, while you placed your palms flat on Satoru's chest. They stared at the cum flowing out of your pussy, being fucked back into you by Satoru. The way you both groaned as you clamped down tight and milked his cock.

Soon you found yourself laying on your side with one leg up with Satoru spooning you from behind. What was frightening was his stamina and power.

His thrusts never lost strength and soon you just felt like his cock was drilling a space inside of you, just for it. You felt so boneless in his hands when you both finished, laying down on your sides.

"Babe…. You okay? We need to clean up." Satoru whispered against your shoulder.

You could only mumble incoherent noises. Squeezing around his softening length, still plugged inside of you to keep his cum inside.

Satoru gave out a soft sigh. Then gathered you into his arms and took you away from prying eyes. He just turned and smirked at them as he walked away with you, butt naked.

The watchers were disappointed that the show was over. Satoru then cleaned you both with the shower head in the washing area and wiped you down with soft towels.

You stayed silent the whole time. Your head felt like it was in the clouds. Just letting Satoru do his way with you like a doll. "You were really good for me tonight angel. Nobody else can touch you but me." He chuckled darkly.

You just listened to his simple commands such as putting your arms up when he dressed you in your nightgown. 'I always love fucking her dumb.' He smiled to himself as he settled you into his arms in bed.

"Next time I'll be fucking you in the water." He whispered. He brought you closer to him, tucking your head against his neck. Kissing your forehead and patting you to put you to sleep.

🎇🎇🎇

The next morning you were absolutely horrified to see people staring at you, when you both left your room to check out. 'I bet they heard us last night. And who were the ones peaking at us?!?!' you frightfully thought to yourself.

Satoru didn't really care. Smiling brightly at the attendants and thanking them for your amazing stay at the inn.

"Toru I really enjoyed my stay, but it's hard to be happy now knowing that we did it at the expense of our neighbours stay." You whispered, hitting him. "Darling I'm pretty sure they enjoyed the show." He winked at you, shameless as ever.

Suffice to say, you decided not return to said hot springs for a while out of shame.

End notes: 🙈 this fic started because I just thought of Satoru's abs wet with steam and sweat but it evolved during the last edit. Hope you guys enjoyed! Reblogs and comments are very much appreciated 💜

#gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru #gojo smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo x y/n #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk fic #gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo x reader #jjk x y/n #gojo fluff #jjk fluff

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dissociativesworld · 3 years ago

Text

Patience

Pairing: Wrecker x reader

Tags: little bit of angst, dom!Wrecker, cock warming, sex in the pilot seat (sorry tech), overstimulation, implied squirting, probably some other stuff I'm not thinking of

A/N: I had no idea how to end this so it's a little hasty at the end hope ya'll don't mind. Also no idea if I'm tagging people correctly

Taglist: @4rosydreams @kesshou-otome @cobiwanbanobi

NSFW below the cut

A shower had never felt so good. You didn’t even care that it was cold, after months on that godforsaken planet you were finally home. As one of the few females on base, you got your own room but you also knew that more than likely Wrecker would probably be passed out on your bed once you opened the ‘fresher door.

He hadn’t followed you to your room after the mission like he normally did. Hopefully, it was just because he wanted a shower just as badly as you did. But you also couldn’t help but think it probably had to do with your behavior on the mission which you still needed to genuinely apologize for. You’d lost your temper when he made a risky decision, not following the plan.

“Why can’t you be patient for once?!” You’d shouted at him.

In the few years, you’d known the Batch, you’d never raised your voice to any of them. And definitely not Wrecker even in the past year you’d been dating. It was out of character for you and it startled the entire team. Even Crosshair was shocked. And the look your boyfriend gave you broke your heart. But you didn’t want to admit you were in the wrong in front of them. You just wanted them to be safe and if they thought they’d piss you off by doing stupid shit, then you’d be the bad guy.

You turned the water off before wrapping yourself in a towel, the standard-issue military towel almost too small to cover you properly. Walking through your room to grab your blacks you were disappointed to see that Wrecker wasn’t there. Well, you needed sleep anyway. As you crawled into bed, it felt wrong. Too empty without being snuggled up to the large trooper. Maybe things would be back to normal in the morning.

~~~

The next morning you wandered down the halls of Kamino looking for your squad. Peeking into their barracks you were disappointed to see all of them, minus Wrecker.

“If you’re looking for Wrecker he slept in the Marauder last night.” Crosshair all but growled at you.

You made a face, “what? Why?”

“You really have to ask?” He scowled at you, normally he was pretty neutral toward you but he obviously didn’t appreciate that you hurt his brother’s feeling.

Sighing you doubled back to the hangar. You could see him sitting in the cockpit, a pout on his lips as he stared into space. You walked quietly onto the ship, quiet enough that he didn’t look up as you walked up behind him.

“Is it okay if I join you?” You asked, putting a hand on his shoulder.

Wrecker glanced up, suddenly having his trademark smile on his face. “Mesh’la, I was just thinking about you.”

He pulled you down into his lap, his half-hard erection emphasizing his words.

“I came to apologize.” You smiled up at him.

He chuckled darkly, “I have a way you can make it up to me.”

You quirked an eyebrow, wondering where he was going with this. His sudden change in attitude with your appearance had you wondering what he was thinking. Granted his smile was a welcome change.

“What did you have in mind handsome?” You asked.

Wrecker pulled you back against him, his cock hard against your ass. He kissed your neck, the other hand pulling your shirt up.

“You realize that anyone can walk into the hangar and see us?” You whispered, now wanting to admit that the thought went straight to your core.

He just hummed in response, his wandering hand moving up to your breasts, squeezing your breast none too gently. You gasped in response, grinding yourself against him.

“I’m going to test your patience sweet girl.” He growled low in your ear.

Your heart was in your throat. Wrecker was one of the most kind-hearted people you knew but since getting to know him a little more intimately you’d learned he wasn’t all soft and sweet. And since he learned you weren’t as fragile as you seemed, he’d enjoyed pushing your limits quite a bit.

“I was plenty patient during that mission mesh’la, considering I wanted nothing more than to lean you over the closest surface and fuck you.” His voice was a low grumble.

You whimpered in response, you could feel your slick soaking your panties.

“Look at you all quiet now, where’s my angry girl?” Wrecker asked as he nibbled on your ear.

Your face was uncomfortably flushed, your cunt was throbbing. Not thinking you moved your hand down to touch yourself through your blacks. Wrecker hooked his chin over your shoulder, watching your movements for a moment before putting his hand over your own.

“I haven’t even started yet cyare, are you sure I’m the impatient one?” His hot breath fanned down your neck before kissing your pulse point.

“Maybe not.” You murmured, leaning back allowing the hand up your shirt to pull it up over your head.

“No bra mesh’la? Naughty girl.” He chuckled, pulling his own shirt off before pulling your back against his chest.

Despite being together for so long you’d never get tired of feeling his muscle-bound body against yours. You could feel every movement against you as he wrapped his arms around you, pinning your arms to your sides, a hand dipping between your legs. His touch was teasingly light, kissing your bare shoulders before biting down on the junction of your shoulder and neck, sucking a bruise there.

You whimpered again, squirming in his lap, desperate for more friction.

Wrecker paused his actions. “Don’t draw too much attention to us cyare, you don’t want anyone to see us do you?”

Instead of responding you ground your ass against his cock earning a growl from him.

“Or maybe you do, naughty girl. You want one of my vod to see how riled up I get you? See how good I fuck you?” He bit another spot on your shoulder.

“Please Wrecker.” You whined.

“Pants off, now.” Wrecker all but pushed you off his lap roughly, pulling the waistband of his pants down enough for his cock to spring free.

You pulled your pants down, you’d just barely gotten it below your ass when Wrecker pull you back down onto his lap.

“Giving the rest of them a show mesh’la? Why not just walk the halls naked?” Wrecker growled, hand grabbing your thighs roughly, pulling them apart so that they were hooked over his own.

He pushed your shoulders forward so that your ass lifted off of his lap, with his other hand grabbing his cock and rubbing its head through your folds. You knew you were dripping already, his quiet moans indicating he was enjoying the sight. He pulled you down onto his cock, the thick length spreading you open.

“Take it cyare, such a good girl.” His voice was deep as he reached around you to wrap a hand around your neck just below your chin.

He filled you more than you’d ever been before, you couldn’t move without his cock pressing against a sensitive spot inside you. His free hand went down to your clit rubbing lazy circles. You moved your hips, wanting movement but he stopped you, the grip on your neck tightening and pulling you back roughly. When you swallowed you could feel the strength of his hold.

Again you started squirming, the full feeling of his cock inside you building tension especially as he applies more pressure to your clit. He again tightened his grip, this time pulling your head back to his shoulder.

“I can sit here buried in your pussy all day cyare. I don’t think you deserve to cum after the attitude you gave me on that mission.” His voice was low but you could detect a smirk from him before he kissed your cheek before tilting your mouth to press against his.

“Please Wrecker. I want to feel you cum inside me.” You begged.

“Nice try mesh’la.” He chuckled, fingers against your clit pressing against you roughly.

The building tension was threatening to snap, arched your back, pressing yourself into his hand desperate for release. Wet heat radiated from inside your cunt, you could feel your wetness dripped down his cock and thighs as pleasure shook your core.

“Look at that cyare, squirting everywhere making a mess. You like my fingers and cock that much?” He teased. “Let’s see if you can do that again.”

His hand returned to your clit, now even more tender than before. The crescendo of pleasure building quickly again still riding on the pleasure of your last orgasm.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You whimpered a chant under your breath as you felt yourself tighten around his cock again.

“That a girl, let go.” He moaned, kissing your neck.

Your second orgasm was more intense than the first, your vision blurring as pleasure flooded your body with the snap. Wrecker’s hips thrust into you with a few shallow thrusts before he moaned loudly, his cock twitching inside you as he came.

You stood on shaky legs to lean against the control panel, needing to get away from the stimulation but unable to stand on your own.

“You okay mesh’la?” Wrecker asked, concern evident in his voice as he gently touched your thigh.

You laughed, trying to brush off his concern. “Yeah, that was just a lot.”

You could hear him shifting behind you, assumably pulling his pants back up.

“C’mere cyare, let me hold you.” He murmured, pulling you back onto his lap, gentler this time.

You snuggled against him, his warm body gone from rigid to soft and comforting. His arms wrapped around you, cradling you to his chest. You two stayed like that for a few moments before you dressed and both of you made your way back to your room before you both passed out in each other’s arms.

#tbb wrecker #wrecker x reader #tbb wrecker x reader #wrecker x you #tbb wrecker x you #bad batch imagine #bad batch smut

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beann-e · 4 years ago

Text

Haikyuu! Characters reacting to their s/o Fighting for them

Also i’m taking request !! go put something in the box :4

Tendou

he would enjoy it so much like he’d have a full on conversation while your doing it. He’d even start hyping you up In the back because he knows that’s all it takes to fuel your fire.

Only for you to find out the person who was hitting on him wasn’t talking about him but was talking about another guy and tendou only made it seem like they were so he could piss you off because he finds it so hot when your upset

Your eyes went pointed to the scene in front of you when you walked down from the bleachers. Feet heavy on the ground as you tried to contain your anger.

How did this chick get down here faster than you and why the hell was she talking to your boyfriend once again faster than you ?

You steps slowed as you walked up to them hoping to hear a little bit of the conversation “ yeah I thought it was really hot and I just wanted to say wow up close and personal y’know “

Your eyes widened hot ?

what the hell did she think was hot ?

“ I was uh I was up in the stands and I was honestly a little bit intimidated to come down here and talk to anyone actually —in the first place “ she laughed clutching her bag a little tighter when your boyfriend licked his lips before his teeth came down to nibble on his bottom one lightly, eyes feigning innocence as he listened to her “ especially you so this is like a big milestone for me “

you watched as your boyfriend smiled softly “ yeah I get it — really i’d be the exact same way with a crush I wouldn’t know how to act or even how to talk to them i’ve actually been there before so “

good good you thought praising tendou in your head at the fact that he was trying to slowly bring up the fact that he had a s/o. clapping for him in your head for trying to let the girl in front of him down easily

your body darting to hide behind a group of teenagers when you saw your boyfriends eyes lift up from the girl and look around as if he was checking for someone he must have been wondering where you were. breathing out a sigh of relief that he turned to look over your way too slowly only missing you by a second

“ oh really I assumed that— “

“ no no your good i’m not saying it in that way “

your face dropped ‘in what way ? ‘

“ I understand the fear of talking to your crush but trust me “ he nodded his head towards the girl In front him before he took a sip of water and smiled down on her “ you’ve got no reason to be nervous i’m right her—“

“ hi “ you waved steps quick on the floor beneath you and voice loud to show your presence “ yes y— yes you do “ you laughed reaching your hand out to shake the girls own in front of you

“ i’m y/n — the s/o— of 3 years —is there ? is there anything wrong did something happen to where he needed an emergency check up or something ? “

the sarcasm in your voice making your boyfriend smirk to himself at the way you just jumped into the situation all to protect your relationship it made him feel secure, happy even

it made him in a way feel greedy

your head coming up to look at tendou as you snaked an arm around his waist like he’d done to you in similar situations. Your other one moving to place itself on his chest “ babe are you ok ? are you hurt ? how badly to call a stranger over here ? “

“ baby no nothing like that she just wanted to congratulate me“ he locked eyes with you the slight smirk he still wore ignored by you due to anger at the drama unfolding before you and his next statement. His words coming out soft and sweet though they were meant to encourage his evil agenda “ before you “

“i’m sorry I wasn’t down here to congratulate him on his win so he must have looked lonely “

you shook your head in sadness at the girl “ and open but “ you smiled “ no he’s not—I understand the confusion you must be going through right now but its just miscommunication from your classmates—which leads me to wonder—please tell me what’s your name ? i’ve never seen you before and I bet your not aware of who I am either so introductions could help both of us out here “

“ oh uh i’m niccolo” the girl shook her head softly and wearily as you pulled back quickly

“ mm niccolo— niccolo “ you spoke rubbing the same hand youd just shook niccolos with down your shirt causing your boyfriend to smile to himself and his eyebrows to raise at all the knowing looks from his teammates about the shit storm he’d just put into motion as he planted a small innocent kiss to your forehead while winking to his teammates behind you

“ never heard of it you must be a first year ? “ your boyfriends head shook slightly as he looked to the floor thinking about how that might have been a little bit rude considering she was just a young girl maybe 16 at most.

His mind rolling with thoughts of maybe cutting the game he was playing short because of her age only for him to side eye you and take a sip from his water bottle again ‘ nah they’ve got it ‘

“ oh y-yes i’m new here—i’ve taken the phrase first year a bit too literal “ she joked smile seeming to be forced her hands twitching in nervousness

“ mm — I never would’ve thought “ you spoke sarcastically. Almost every first year knew not to talk to tendou after a game not unless you were down there already.

The both of you had established that as soon as the game is over your the only person who gets to say congratulations to him first since he explained that it means more to him to know that you’ll always be there no matter what he does

no matter if he wins or loses he’ll get to walk off that court and the first thing he sees is the person he loves most with their hands out waiting for a hug. he’s told you that in the moment he wants to feel like your the only one watching because it’s a private game played for you because he believes your so lucky to get to see your smoking hot boyfriend do blocks.

“ oh thank you no ones ever told me that I look older before may I ask why you thin— “

“ because your dum— “

“ haha um “ tendou stretched before speaking again “ because your just really pretty for a first year “ your body went rigid you almost felt like you couldn’t feel anything not even the heat that was radiating off your body

“ aw thank you so much that means a lot y/n was it? “ she smiled genuinely before laughing “ tendous so nice i’m really glad I came down here first before y’know all the fangirls came down “

she shook her head “ y’know I actually got scared because I thought you were one — I was like ahhhh here comes one of those scary stalker girls “ she laughed “ tendou was telling me not to be afraid since he knew you but I was telling him to be careful when talking to people like you —- once again I thought you were a fan girl so I mean you can’t blame me right?”

Yeah she was screwed this had went too far he was too late

“ y/n “ his voice was warning but you waved him off listening to the girl in front of you her voice sounding so confident and honest believing in everything she was saying. Voice pouring through and mouth still moving almost as if she had no filter

she looked to her feet “I doubt any of them would even have a chance with tendou though because— “

your body roared as she explained her reasoning.

You were only feeling this angry at her words because not only did she call you a tendou fangirl but she explained that even if you were one you would have no chance with him even though that’s actually how you two started dating.

Then for her to turn around and rub it in your face how she got downstairs before you oh god you were gonna have a field day with this little twerp if you didn’t find a way to put her in her place respectfully

“ hey um tendou do you think me and my fellow fan girl here can have some alone time just a small chat “

“ oh wow i’ve never had one of those before “ she smiled as tendou stood still wondering if he’d done the right thing by encouraging all of this or if he should just drop it or maybe even sit down and enjoy it

looking down at you cautiously a slight smirk on his face thinking about your face when he would get the chance to you the truth of the situation but only for it to drop as the girl across from him stole his attention away from you causing him to perk up a bit honestly surprised that she spoke again

Was she suicidal or ?

“ I think he may not be leaving because he isn’t comfortable with you yet—he told me earlier that we could be best friends so , he may listen to me more “ she smiled “ tendou I wanna talk to um —y/n so could you maybe give us some time alone —“ her smiling wider almost as if happy to call him her friend —before speaking “ I wanted to help you out “

‘ holy shit she’s testing my patience’

tendous loud laugh ripped through the gym as he grabbed goshiki and turned the both of them around to walk off words heavy and holding meaning “ yeah I know em’ —I know em’ real well physically and mentally trust me your going to have a bestie number two soon enough “

you watched as your boyfriend went to sit on the bench talking softly with goshiki as he put his hands in his pants pockets not paying attention to you two anymore

“ so wha— “

“ look “ you smiled “ i’m gonna be real sweet about this so we can tie this up in a neat little bow “ you pointed towards tendou

“ ‘m not a fan anymore he’s my boyfriend — we’ve been dating for 3 years now ever since we were first years. I met him through a fan club because he saw the art I drew for their game posters and enjoyed it. I told him I liked how passionate he was about something and how he had his own thing and did it in his own unique way that worked for him and then boom we ended up getting closer—closer then need be sometimes “

you sighed as you moved to close the conversation out “ look just please — I understand your a first year you may not know and that’s ok but ; me and my boyfriend like for me to be the first one who gives him a congratulations at the end of a match he never talks to anyone except his team until I do it — he says it’s like reassurance tht he’s doing good he’s had some stuff happen in the past that just — he needs praise and reminders that he’s doing good with his sport and I supply that he doesn’t want it from anyone else and I don’t want anyone else to give it “

you looked to the girl with sympathy in your eyes hoping you didn’t hurt her feelings she really was just a young kid “ it’s ok to have a crush I had one we all do at a point in our lives but right now your hitting on someone in a secure relationship ok ? start asking first please just to be safe in your future years “

her eyes went wide as she moved to speak “ mm I guess I was wrong “

you shook your head “ wrong ? excuse me for not understanding but wrong how“

“ I uh I assumed you weren’t one of those fan girls and I was wrong I did not mean to get in between your weird obsession just please do not harm him or anything like you guys tend to do “

your body blazed eyes lit up in a hard stare at everyone who now turned to face you hearing the girls loud words

“ again with the fan shit “

“ that is what you guys are called I will not call you his s/o if he does not know you “

“ HES MY BOYFRIEND YOU ASSHOLE “

“ wh— “

“ I tried to be nice to you but your not accepting it it’s like you want me to scream at you “

“ yeah babe she totally does “ tendous smile spreading slowly across his face at the way your hips moved to work with your mouth in showing off your evident pissed off mood

“ I know “ you screamed “ she just wants to make this harder for me “

“ duh “ his tongue coming out to swipe across his bottom lip eyes falling down to your hands that were clenched so tightly in anger waving around widely your pissed off expression sending heat traveling across his body

“ you have a child’s crush on him and I keep telling you I don’t mind but I explained to you to just be respectful and then you go and disrespect me again“

“ they are very lenient when it comes to crushes on me “

“ thank you baby —I try not to be rude because I myself was once a fan in a club for the team so trust me I understand but everyone is usually respectful I don’t understand how you “

“ she’s just a first year babe you have to explain it to her more “ he smiled thinking up a new way to see how far you would go for him “ like in depth “

“ I DID “

“ no baby you gotta get rough with her “

you turned with your eyebrows furrowed “ like fight “

he smirked at you body shaking at the way you whimpered out the words but moved to put your hair up anyways yet, again putting him first and your cloudy anger ridden mind second

god you were so hot whenever you showed everyone you’d do anything for him “ fuck — yeah baby your doing the right thing —don’t think about it too much “

you shook your head softly as you battled through it in your head tendou always knew how to get a rise out of you and how to make you do what he wanted you to more so for fun.

It didn’t take much for you to listen to him especially when you couldn’t think clearly because he was the only person there who cared for you and anything he did you knew would only be for his own entertainment purposes he’d never have you do anything bad or that put your safety at risk.

when you were angry —and had someone hyping you up and adding fuel onto the fire it was only 10x worse and tendou knew this

“ here y/n baby—let’s take this outside I don’t want you to get hurt by fighting in here come on you can do it out there “

“ tendou you asshole quit encouraging this shit“ semi whispered

“ I do not understand what is going on —i find myself with a loss of knowledge in this situation but I do feel as though tendou is in the wrong it is only a gut feeling “

the girl in front of you trembled at ushijimas voice—before looking to goshiki who held wide eyes as he waved to the girl hesitantly her eyes darting away and back to him eyebrows coming together as she looked around the gym embarrassed “ but he — he didn’t say anything about you—I didn’t know he didnt tell me “

“ wh—what babe — liar I call liar she’s lying baby — pleas— ow “

your head finally clearing up as you listened to his team talk about how much of a prick he was you reaching out and grabbing the top of his ear and bringing it down to your height while he screamed out in pain “ BECAUSE HES AN ASSHOLE “

“ hey baby I’m sorry i’m sorry but that’s — thats “ his hair went down to cover his face as he looked at you “ thats not cool “

“ I — I didn’t know “

“ but I told you twice “

“ and I — I haven’t had the best experienc— “ her bottom lip trembled before she took off crying when she met the young boys eyes behind her.

Goshiki shaking softly eyes lit up in confusion before he shook his head and pulled himself away from the embarrassing situation to run after her your boyfriend moving to wrap his arms around your waist from the back “ your so hot “

“ but I “

“ you were wrong though so I see looks don’t always pair up with smarts “

“ huh “

“ she wasn’t hitting on me “

“ but she “

“ she has a crush on goshiki this is her first time attending a volley’ game and she accidentally came down the wrong way so it landed her down here faster than everyone else”

your body stiffened “ she only ended up talking to me because I was going into the hallway towards the locker rooms when she for some reason was coming down the opposite way crying to me about how she was lost “

“ then you — you two were talking abo— “

“ she’s a bit fragile —- and she was explaining it and I saw how we were the same because she’s had a hard past too so she’s a bit wary around others—and hates confrontation due to drama at ‘er old school and she doesn’t know much of the people here because she’s a first year also she doesn’t talk much which kinda threw me off when she started having full conversations with you and trying her best to connect with you“ he shrugged “ must’ve thought you were cool —wanted to be your friend or some shit”

he smiled proudly at the fact that you could make people other than himself feel that comfortable around you him peppering kisses all around your face “ she was telling me how she thought goshiki was hot and when I brought up that I was his amazingly beautiful senpai she just wanted me to introduce her to him — she said she’s afraid of people and fangirls because she hasn’t had the best experiences with them she explained one time in middle school she got a bento box thrown at her because a guy from the volleyball team said hi to her “

your body immediately dropped “ you knew her whole life story and then some and let me embarrass myself “

“ well honestly you both did you just a bit more than her “

oikawa

he would praise you so much the whole time. He has fangirls and he loves when you show him why your more important than them. he loves for you to stop him and put them in their place while showing him his own.

He knows it’s not right to flirt with other girls but the excitement and pure happiness he gets when he watches you fight for him with such passion similar to his own for volley he loves it

“ oikawa ~~” A small voice called out before tucking a strand of hair behind their ear “ can we maybe get some photos ? “

holy shit it’s like everyday at this point

“ baby can I ? “

“ just go “ his eyes darted to the group before he looked back at you “ really —swear i’ll be right behind you pretty boy “

He smiled before running off to the group grabbing the pen someone held out for him and writing all over the billions of notepads girls waved in front of his face.

You knew it looked wrong for him to have a s/o and still entertain other girls or guys for that matter but, you knew oikawa. You knew exactly how he felt about them it wasn’t that he was interested or liked them it was that he liked their comments

he liked the attention.

He was someone who needed constant praise to feel like he was doing his best. Hearing all the cheers , all of the shouts of his name, seeing the signs and people that would come to games specifically for him only made him feel like he was human like he was real and talented—appreciated

You would never take that away from him you could never, when you two started dating you explained to him you knew how important his fans were to him and as long as he kept a certain line that couldn’t be crossed— that he would always come back to you. Everything would be ok.

You slowly walked up behind him leaving space for people to have a hard time differentiating if you were apart of the crowd or with him but you were still close enough to hear the whispers of how hot he was and honestly he was.

He had the muscles—the beautifully glowing skin that others around you two dreamed of and to put a topping on the cake he was still sporting his ruffled hair from his earlier game. He was your dream man and you were lucky to even be able to stare at him behind closed doors or at least that’s what he told you whenever you walked into his room.

“ oikawa-san “

“hmm “ he spoke staring down on the girl that reached out to grab his arm as he was turning to leave

“ could I talk to you please “

his eyes darted to find yours locking on them when he finally found them. His mouth now moving to mouth a question as you shook your head lightly you’d give him five more minutes he deserved it and you wanted him to feel like he’d done a good job at his game today ,which he really did do, him only going back to the girl in front of you two

“ oh well I really wanna — i’m supposed to —“ he sighed out before he collected himself “ I want to take my s/o home before it gets too late I don’t want them walking alone at night “

“ oh s/o “ her voice dropped as he shook his head up and down “ correct of 2 years “

“ oh my um congratulations— to many more to many more with many more “ she rushed out quickly reaching in her backpack

“ thank you our anniver— “

“ could we get a picture “

he sighed before his smile spread only growing into a fake one lips going tight on his face “ yes of course just one i’d like to get on the ro— “

His breathing stopped as he felt the girl next to him lay her lips on his. The click of the camera making his eyes go wide as he shook. Oikawa to most wasnt one who was as submissive as he was with you. He was a bit more ‘ manly ‘ to other people but around you he always fell into submission especially when he knew he fucked up

His eyes slowly moved to find yours that flaming as you stared down the girl in front of him . You leaning against the wall only making him feel a shiver move down his spine.

Had he fucked up that badly that you weren’t even moving.

He kept looking between you and the girl in front of him eyes trying to convey his thoughts as they screamed

‘ look y/n she’s still talking to me — at this point she’s fucking with me not the other way around ‘

His mind went blank as you walked over your face made up into a stoic one voice coming out monotoned devoid of annoyance or any feeling at all “ your lips must be magnets or some shit“

“ excuse me “

“ oh no it’s just that Insee you’ve put your lips on my boyfriend“ your eyes creased at the girl before looking up and down in curiosity “ so I was just wondering if your big mouth was hiding a magnet or something — anything really to explain why you would put your dirty ass mouth on my rather pristine boyfriend “

Pristine ? his body went upright standing a bit taller ‘ hell yeah i’m pristine keep em coming babe ‘

“ are you not going to apologize ? “

“ I uh “ her eyes went up into sadness and fear as the courage that once swirled through her left upon seeing your emotionless stare. She’d just kissed your boyfriend and you looked like you were walking dogs or doing an everyday house chore “ i’m sor—sorry “

“ oh not to me “ you let out a small head nod over to oikawa “ I meant him “

“ oh oh um yes “ she coughed before she made eye contact with oikawa whos eyes were creasing as he stared down on the frail girl before him

“ i’m sorry “

“ no go on take your time “

“ i apologize that “

“ really I know it’s hard to apologize to someone as pristine as me“ your boyfriend moved to nudge you softly “ isn’t that right y/n“ he spoke as he tried and failed to wink down at you

“ uh yeah babe um “ you shook your head as your eyebrows furrowed before you returned to your earlier self “ wait what oikawa stop playing and fix this shit “

“ oh uh “ he straightened himself up at your words “ what were you suppose to be saying again “

“ oh I just wanted to um “ she turned to make eye contact with you before jumping a bit and turning away squeaking out her words “ i’m sorry for hitting on you knowing that you had a s/o “

“ oh ok that’s it? ” his body sulked as he looked to the floor

“ that’s it ? — you don’t care that she hit on you asshole“ you slapping his arm harshly before he whimpered at the contact

“ what’s wrong baby “ your hand came up to rub his back and arm while he pouted turning away from the both of you

“ I just wanted her to she was sorry “

“ ‘kawa she did we can go home now “

“ no she didn’t say it the way I wanted her to “

your hands fell from him as you let out a huff of air before turning to the girl in front of you and moving to whisper in her ear as she sat confused unmoving In her spot before smiling softly and speaking uncomfortably and regretting her decision to ask the male out

“ oikawa “ she coughed his eyes looking over at her while still holding up his dramatic show “ I just wanted to say i’m sorry for hitting on your s/o’s “

Her eyebrows furrowed before she looked to you who was mouthing the words and shaking her head in an ok motion “ pretty boy —“ he perked up at the words “I will never hit on someone of your elegantly pure , flawlessly clean , stature ever again “

Yes he made her embarrass herself by asking for more kind uplifting words more so to make himself feel better than for you. All the while he enjoyed the praise he received from not only the person he loved but the person he didn’t.

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