#but this was such a treat to get right before i suffer through my exams tomorrow..... | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

miekasa · 3 years

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

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nevereverlandboys · 3 years

Text

Drunken in charge

A/N: So I already posted this on wattpad a while ago. I was busy with learning for my exam, but now I finally managed to edit everything so I can post it on tumblr for those who don't read in wattpad

If you want to get tagged for my oneshots DM me ❤

Pairing: Ouat Felix x Reader

Warnings: Smut, NSFW, fingering, oral, unprotected sex, consuming of alcohol, swearing, really unrealistic sex scene lol, unprotected sex

Summary: Felix is being left in charge for the camp while Pan is absent, so games are off along with every other game. What is there else to do than drink? The second in command uses this opportunity to finally get closer to the reader after being so distant for a long time.

word count: 9968

The Island was harsh and cruel to everyone in an unfair but equal way. Even though the lost boys lived free on Neverland, they still were ruled by the mischievous leader named Peter Pan. Each of them had their own suffering they would not mention to anyone, rather feel the pain alone and the loneliness followed them with every step. But if someone caught Y/N's eye the most, it was the quiet second in command, Felix. He always stayed close to his leader and would always follow his command. His cold facade never told her a single thought, making him special in his own way. He would leave the girl alone and only joined her on missions, but even then, the second in command would remain quiet. Pan on the other hand, tormented Y/N with thousands of useless tasks, while the lost boys worked on their own duties that seemed to make way more fun. No matter how hard she tried, Y/N would never fit in the group of lost boys, their name alone excluded her. None of them treated her fair, always left her out and acted like she was their servant. At first, the boys all seemed curious, and also a little intrigued about her appearance. They wondered why the shadow brought a girl to Neverland and if she would stay forever or just for a while. Their vicious behavior scared her off the first days, keeping her distance in a small tent. There was nothing special about Y/N, and she wondered why Pan brought her here from the beginning. Soon they boys learned that as well, treating her harshly like everybody else. They mocked her for being too weak, being too emotional,- they mocked her for not being a boy. After a while Y/N stopped asking questions and simply agreed to her new life. There were many good things to mention, nothing here was all bad. No one cared about her exploring the island during the day, at least if she did not go too far. If she wanted to cook for herself, there was no one in the way, and if she wanted to read in her tent, they would not enter- also because she was definitely sure Pan forbat it. The lost boy's feared and loved their leader at the same time, the way he let them live the free life they always wanted and not even seeing how dangerous it could be had convinced them. Y/N had distanced herself from them and their cruelty, rarely appeared to any big occasion and rather traveled along the river that ran it's way through the meadow and pastures. It was a surprise when one boy asked her one day to join a game, leaving her startled and unable to answer since no one ever really attempted to talk to the girl. It woke a piece of hope inside her, some of the younger boys already liked Y/N, yet, there was always something suspicious around the older ones.

"C'mon!" The thin boy yelled excitedly and waved his hands through the air, gesturing to follow him.

"This will be fun!"

Y/N avoided the demanding boy and tilted her head while her eyes wandered through the group before they stopped at the second in command, his eyes already burning on her skin when she detected him on his log, not far. His gaze made her nervous, uncomfortable and she questioned the decision to join the game. Something inside her shook the thought off, that Felix would approach her one day for some other reason than Pan made him, or that he would ask her to join a game.

"No…" Y/N answered nervously and looked back to the lost boy, trying to ignore Felix in the back. She did not trust that boy the slightest.

"I have to clean the kitchen." She lied and dropped her gaze to the ground. The boy left as quickly as he came, not even trying to convince her further as if the interest was faked like everything else on this Island. After a while she sat alone in silence, watching the smaller boys play with sticks and some older ones preparing some meat and stickbread for the bonfire. The feeling of being watched did not let go. Y/N tried her best not to look suspicious and quickly let her eyes wander further when she found the guilty boy, Felix.

Why is he still staring at me?

She never found out. The boy stayed exactly where he was and so did Y/N. He would constantly steal a glimpse and for a moment goosebumps spread all over her body, as butterflies rumbled in her stomach. A few days went on and she had catched the second in command staring at her over and over again. Whenever she looked at him, he quickly shifted his eyes somewhere in hope not to be catched. Sitting at the dining table she would catch him, when she did the laundry or cooked in the humble kitchen. The lost boy woke some curiosity inside the girl, the urgent need to know why he would always steal a glimpse, whenever she walked by. He never slipped a nasty comment, definitely strange compared to the other lost boys and their vivid temper. He never approached her or tried to keep up a conversation either. As soon as the sun went down, Pan appeared in front of Y/N's tent, calling her to come out and get some firewood. His second in command stood not far, leaning against the bark of a tree and chewing on a toothpick. He didn't need to wait for his leader's command, already knowing he had to join her.

"Be quick." Pan ordered sternly, pressing his brows together before strutting back to the other boys. Her eyes instantly shifted over to the lanky, blonde boy, a smirk plastered on his pale face. If Pan knew that this was not a good idea? Felix turned on his heels and led the way through the trees uphill where the bushes covered the edges down to the abyss, not looking back once.

"C'mon, girlie." He said.

'Don't call me that!' She snapped back and paced up. The lost boy's camp disappeared on the ground, the higher Y/N followed the path before Felix stopped in front of a dark forest, the leaves swallowing every light before it could touch the ground.

"Princess." Felix corrected cockily, watching her step between the trees. She started to blush and was unable to say something, so she decided to simply ignore the giant boy's nickname for her, no matter how flattering his words seemed. She tried to act tough, tougher than she actually was, in hope he would recognise it.

"How in the hell should we get wood in the dark?' Y/N mumbled as she stared into the pitch black.

"Are you scared?" Felix teased and gave her a smirk. His voice was deep and rough, unsettling but still going like honey through her ears. The girl scoffed at him and rolled her eyes, then led the way with firm steps, not even seeing the ground and suddenly tripping over into a mess of wood.

"Fuck!" She hissed and held her hands to check the unbruised skin. The lost boy started to laugh darkly to himself, before he stepped closer.

"This wood is full of chunks." Felix explained and bent down to pick up the wood. Y/N rose to her feet and grabbed some wood, not saying another word. Felix remained silent as well, heading with heavy back to the camp. After a while he stopped and turned, watched if she could catch up and continued when the girl was close enough. All the time she wanted to talk to him, using the moment all alone with him, but as she hurried to follow the second in command, no single idea for a conversation came to her mind. It was like someone wiped every thought away and replaced it with the heavy drumming of her heartbeat. As soon as she reached the clearing, Felix dropped the wood onto the ground and left them for the other boys to take care of it. Her chunks landed right next to his and she paced up to catch up with the gloomy second in command, when a tight grip on the girl's wrist stopped her.

"Where do you think you're going?"

Y/N tilted her head and faced Dave, a tall chubby boy with messy brown hair, his eyes dark and soft like marbles. The lost boy looked like a bear, warm and welcoming, nevertheless it were his words that often scared her off. He only had nasty comments for Y/N, threats and if Pan wouldn't protect her for being a weak girl, the lost boy would probably harm her physically as well.

"The potatoes won't cook themselves!" Dave barked and pushed her harshly away before his eyes wandered over to the kitchen tent. Y/N bit her tongue to stop slipping a nasty comment, marched over to the humble kitchen and let out a growl when she saw the mess inside.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" She whined as her eyes wandered over the dirty pots and Pan's, knives and forks along with every spoon. At least it was not stinking and disgusting, easy to wash, yet an avoidable effort if every boy would clean after themselves. But why should they? They had Y/N. Deciding to only clean the essential goods and shoving the other things aside, she opened a little basket with potatoes in it and placed them on the little counter. Like she expected, no one came to help her during the cooking, only one boy showed up to ask if she could hurry up. The same boy did not even thank her when she finally gave them the cooked potatoes half an hour later. The selfish behaviour of these boys was the thing Y/N hated most, more reason to focus on the second in command, the only boy who had never shown her this nasty attitude. While every other boy slowly gathered around the bonfire after they ate, Felix stayed where he was. He did not dance like the others and Y/N was not even sure if he could hear what the boys claimed to hear. Pan once said, his flute was special and the girl was supposed to hear her too. None of them had an explanation, still, it did not seem like the first time for Pan, seeing something like this.

The girl's eyes darted back to Felix, his eyes already burning on her skin and she instantly moved her head to make it look less obvious. The tempting idea of walking over to him burned inside her guts, but with all those boys around, she was like being frozen in place. The second in command never talked to her when it was not necessary, not even one muscle in his face twitched when he interacted with the others. Still, something inside Y/N pulled her towards him from the beginning, as if his attempt to block her out was even more tempting. When she distanced herself from the bonfire back to her tent, Felix stayed at his seat instead of following her like she had imagined he would do. A little disappointed she went to bed and kept twirling all her thoughts around the mysterious second in command. There were so many questions about him. No one ever understood Felix, maybe not even Pan, although they were closer to each other than no one else on this whole Island.

The following days Pan left Felix in charge, going on a mission by himself. The absence of Neverland's leader made itself noticeable first, when the lost boys stopped playing their big games and went directly to their duties, almost no words slipping from their usually loud mouths as they worked in silence. The day had started boring for everyone on it, Pan was already away for a few days, so Felix was fully in charge. Games were off, along with parties and especially dances in the evening. If Y/N could tell, the dances were the most annoying thing to the second in command, the thing he hated the most. Felix did not like the idea of taking care of anybody else but himself. So it came that even after weeks, Y/N had barely exchanged some words with him. He would simply avoid her and in case of sharing a task, just stare at her in curiosity. It was a lie to say he did not make her nervous, even when it was not in a scary way. The second in command was weird in any way and whenever he built himself up in front of her, she and broad, he made her look even shorter than she actually was. A feeling almost pleasant instead of scary. It was like something pulled her towards the cold lost boy, but the lack of courage would not let her talk to him. If he felt the same?

Felix was intimidating to look at, it was like something was wrong with his face but Y/N could never tell what. His high pitched cheeks were sharp and narrow and there was an awful scar running along his left cheek up to his brows like an 'x'. The most creepy things were his eyes though, whenever she looked into them, she was willingly drowning in a cold puddle that dragged her deeper in. They pierced her, as if he knew every secret inside the girl's head. Nevertheless, he was not ugly, rather pretty to look at. When his blonde hair hung messy over his face and the way he smelled. Whenever she walked past him, she would smell pinewood and musk. Even though he was well known for his cruelty, the lost boy never raised his hand against Y/N, nor called her nasty things like the others did. She was not even sure on how to do it anyways. Felix always looked busy or like he did not want anyone to speak to him. When she thought of it, the girl could not remember one single boy really talking to the second in command except Pan, but then again,- they only talked about plans and other secrets. He was a mystery of his own, a riddle for Y/N to solve. She glanced over to him and saw that he was carving something into a piece of wood. The lanky lost boy had distanced himself from the other boys, having his seat on a log as closest to the forest as possible. Maybe she could strike a conversation about his passion for carving? He was doing that almost everyday without talking about it and when she thought about it, she had never seen the final results. After a while, courage overcame her, so she stood up and walked slowly into Felix's direction, already noticing in the corner of her eyes the disapproving and concerned looks of some boys. They started to talk quietly to each other and she instantly knew it was about her. Their eyes burned more on Y/N's skin with each step further towards Felix, making her feel nervous and jumpy. Rolling with her eyes at them, she still marched to the lanky blonde boy, stopping when she was close enough to him. The heads of the lost boys instantly shot away, as if they felt too scared to let Felix know about their curiosity when he lifted his heavy head from his broad shoulders.

Felix's eyes darted up, his mouth shut tight and his facial expression went blank like always. His look told Y/N that he was strong, but never how he felt. She tried to say something, but the words got stuck in her throat. Unable to speak, she stared with a deadpan face back at the second in command, trying to find an excuse for her behaviour. The idea with the wood seemed so dumb suddenly and she wished she could just melt into the ground or simply disappear as the lost boy stared back at her, locking their eyes and waiting for her to say something.

"Have you seen Pan?" Y/N choked out and sounded calmer than she expected to be. The blonde boy raised an eyebrow suspiciously and nodded behind him into the dark forest. Big trees hovered high up into the sky, all around the clearing, hiding every view. It was pitch black. Y/N swallowed at the sight of the dark woods and she shook her head slowly, feeling so scared of the unknown dangers. There was no reason for her to see Pan, the leader was not a pleasant person himself and the lie only made her more anxious.

"I think it wasn't important anyways." She mumbled unsure and turned around, feeling how her whole face heatened up at the fact that she talked to the mysterious second in command. Suddenly, the tall boy grabbed her by the wrist, causing her to turn and face him again.

"I'll bring you to him, if you feel scared to go alone." He said dry and rose to his feet, tall and intimidating. The girl was so small next to him, peeking up to him again as her limbs lightly started to tremble. Felix glanced down at her and again, she shook her head slowly. The girl did not know if he simply did not notice it, but when the lost boy shoved her into the pitch black, terror overcame her. What was he doing? Not daring to say a word, before the light around her vanished, she only felt the lost boy's hand on her back as he pushed her gently forwards. Her heart was pounding so hard, she feared he might feel it. Where the hell would he bring her? Where was Pan all the time?

"Don't." Y/N winced and turned on her heels, running past Felix back into the camp. The lost boy instantly jumped around and stormed after her, chasing her across the clearing towards some big trees. She tripped over one of their big roots, almost crashing down but still finding her balance. This was the moment Felix jumped at the girl, crashing down with her, his heavy weight pressing the air out of her lungs. The lost boy spun her around and pinned her arms down on the floor before she could take a sharp inhale. Y/N tried to free herself in panic, but she could not move at all, when the slender boy straddled her and held her down. The colours in Y/N's face faded away and her heart pumped wild inside her as if it were about to explode, unable to tell if she felt excited or scared. Maybe a healthy mix of both. She was sure he did not want to hurt her. Frankly, he never did.

"Why in the hell are you running from me." He asked angry, slightly confused and she thought even a bit hurt as he pressed his brows strictly together.

"Don’t hurt me." She muttered and the pale boy frowned. He loosened his grip and swiftly rose to his feet and pulled his hood back over his head, then strutted quickly away, not even giving her a last glance.

That was strange, she thought. Her heart was still beating furiously. What happened? The lost boy scared her and made her feel like burning at the same time. She took a deep breath and raised to her feet, wiping the dirt off her clothes. Felix was a strange guy and he only confused Y/N. Why did he just stand up and leave? She was not dumb and clearly could add two and two together. But it could not be that the second in command had some interest in her, why should he? The boy barely spoke to the girl, even when they had chores together. Y/N remembered one of the first days, when Pan sent them both to get some dreamshade and the tall blonde did not even let her near one of those plants, not even mentioning why. When he held the filled glasses, the boy walked a big distance between her back to camp, giving her the feeling of not being wanted. Later she had learned the dangers of it and Felix's strange behaviour now. It was an easy addition but she needed to be sure, not even knowing how to deal with this information.

If I am right.

The next day Felix clearly avoided her. Whenever he felt like she was too close, the lost boy would quickly find another place to go. She did not want to ask any of the boys about it, not wanting them to know, but it was obviously something off. They would not answer her anyways, only giving her questioning looks. After that weird situation in the evening before, the second in command completely vanished. There was no big effort to look for him and when the girl went to bed, she completely forgot about him. He had not given her any duties yet, so she took her chance and left the camp to take a shower and later gather some fruits and seeds, everything edible the Island would offer her without having to kill. She did not know how to hunt and was not sure if she could even catch an animal. Peter once told her that his best man would teach her to hunt, but Felix always seemed to be so busy that she simply never asked him to. At first she had avoided the blonde, lanky boy, not knowing his temper. He had scared her so much but now she could not stop thinking of how he had straddled her and how much she liked it. This was stupid. She barely knew Felix and still Y/N pictured herself with him in so many daydreams now. It was always easier to dream about someone and she was not crazy enough to consider anything about the rough boy. But where would he be? What is he doing right now? God, she needed to stop thinking about Felix. She was overthinking.

The time passed by and Y/N found herself at the clearing again, watching two boys fight in the distance, with a small crowd around to cheer their violence. Her eyes wandered over the whole area, searching for the second in command. He sat far away next to a few older lost boys that hollered around while drinking some rum. Since Felix would not let them do anything, the only possible solution for the boys was to drink and do stupid things that would not bother the tall scarred one. They were drinking more alcohol than any adult could ever handle. The girl's eyes shifted over the group, seeing how they stumbled and swayed around. Felix sat on a log with his own bottle of rum in his hands, he kept his distance from the other boys, observing them with a blank expression but it was visible that he was drunk, too. When he saw Y/N entering the camp, the second in command's head spun around, meeting her gaze and she could swear his face lightened up.

"Y/N!" Someone big yelled excitedly and jumped at her from the side, almost swaying her off her feet before she could even think of the name "Felix".

"Drink with us!" The chubby boy cheered with a dizzy voice. His dark, bushy eyebrows hung deep over his small eyes and he wrinkled his nose, making a nasty, slimy sound, reminding her of a mull. He was not pretty to look at, mean and vicious, sometimes insulting for no reason. He was that kind of a boy who would mock one and still complain when they did not want to be his friend.

"No, tha-"

"DRINK!" The chubby boy repeated himself more aggressively and grabbed Y/N's wrist to stop her from leaving before she could even try getting away. His fat fingers would definitely leave a mark later as she furiously tried to yank herself free.

"YOU ARE HURTING ME!" Y/N whined and buried her nails into his wrist, but the lost boy would not let go.

"It will be fun! Don't be such a lame ass." He gave back and tightened his grip. Felix, who had watched the whole scene from a distance, immediately jumped to his feet and stormed towards them, yanking the boy away and threw him violently into the mud. He gave him the most powerful kick that his anger would provoke, that the sound of the fat lost boy's scream caught everyone's attention.

"I will snap your fucking neck!" Felix threatened so calmly that the other boys would not even hear it as he pressed his jaw together, his hands forming into fists that his knuckles turned white. The chubby moonface groaned dizzy and turned onto his stomach, trying to lift himself drunkenly out of the sludge. With a closer look, Y/N understood why they all called him Piggy, instead of Mull. He turned his head confused around before he would drop back onto the ground again. The girl's eyes widened at the sight of this cruelty, even though she felt relieved and maybe a little entertained to see Piggy like this. He truly deserved it. On the other hand, she wondered why Felix came so quickly to help after he had tried his best to get out of her way. Y/N's cheeks burned up and she knew it would be the perfect moment to talk to him.

"Go." Felix said. He turned to her and shoved her gently away from the boys towards the tents. His big hand warmed her comfortably on her back, waking the butterflies in her stomach and causing her to shiver. The second in command rested one one of his arms on the girl's shoulder to keep his balance as he swayed between the tall bushes forwards between the trees.

"You should go to sleep." The lost boy said huskily, stopping in front of her tent, his grey eyes staring at the closed curtains. The excitement inside Y/N turned into disappointment when she saw where this actually went, so she stared irritated at the tent as Felix pulled his arm away and stepped away, slowly heading back.

"I am not tired!" Y/N gave back and knitted her brows together, confused why he just left her now. He could have stayed at the camp instead of joining her in the first place. Why come all this way up here? Felix's head spun around before turning back to stop right in front of the girl. He bent down to face her and made it possible to smell the alcohol in his breath as she stared into his gray eyes illuminated by the pale moonlight. The messy, ashen hair hung half over his face,- Y/N liked so many things about him and right now he was so perfect. He has never been that close before, except when he had tackled her.

"The boys aren't so well behaved," The second in command snickered. "Especially not in that state."

Y/N giggled when she thought of Felix acting like he was a good boy, after all those terrible things he did. There was a reason why he was second in command of this brutal gang and he proved it by the way he treated Piggy.

"And you're not?" She gave back quite bravely, raising an eyebrow cockily. Felix chuckled low to himself, slightly shaking his head before he gave her a smirk, showing his white palette of perfectly lined up teeth.

"If you want me to," Felix purred and wiggled with his brows. "I'll be whatever you want."

The girl felt goosebumps spread all over her body at his words and for a moment, she just stared speechless back at him, unable to say a word and wanting nothing more than kissing those pink lips. Felix was drunk, he could not think straight and definitely did not mean what he said. The lost boy's breath tickled hers and she noticed how close he was and how she just had to lean in, to steal a kiss. There was no way she would risk it, well aware that Pan loved games and she could not let the thought go, his best man would love them as well.

"Do you have any suggestions?" She asked as her nose touched his, her lips almost on his as she gently ran her hands over his chest. Felix ignored the question, moving instinctively and rough, grabbing Y/N's neck and pulling her in to close the distance between their mouths. His tongue was warm and tasted like liquor, still it did not bother her at all, when he vividly explored the inside of her mouth. Felix's hands vanished under her hair, grabbing her head and pressing the girl firmer against him while his intoxicated mind led his actions. Y/N gasped surprised into the kiss, not expecting him to do this even though it was what she wished for. Felix was way taller than her and for the moment he was forced to bend down at her height, holding her in his broad arms that pressed her tightly against his chest. When Felix’s pulled away, his eyes were still shut and he ran his thumb over Y/N's lips, licking his own and let out a gasp when he realised that he did not only imagined to do that. Then his eyes widened and she could see that he realised for the first time what just happened, what he just did.

"Sorry…" Felix mumbled unbelievingly and shook his head with widened eyes. He pushed her harshly away and rose to his feet, quickly checking full terror if someone had watched it.

"I was-" Felix spoke hoarse and slowly took a step back, then another one, a few more, until he turned on his heels and sprinted quickly away, not finishing what he tried to say.

Y/N stood there for a moment as if she were stuck in place, not able to process what just happened. With a swift movement she stormed through the curtains of her tent towards her bed to hide under the covers. She grabbed a pillow, held it against her face and screamed inside it. It was hard to tell if she felt excited or embarrassed. Felix kissed her, so why should she be worried about something? Maybe it was a test and she failed? Hell no, that would be some serious bullshit if that were the first explanation and she had seen his reaction. The way he held her and how he tasted heatened her up. Every cell inside her body craved for more.

No, what are you doing, she thought and shook her head, replaying that scenario in her head over and over again like a broken record. With a swift move she rolled onto her back and stared up at the curtain ceiling, hoping to find an answer to what her next step could be. If the lost boys would find out, they would never stop talking about it, maybe even start to think she was easy to have. Y/N gulped and squinted her eyes at the thought of them all trying to hit on her. Felix was different though. He was tall and intimidating, his cold stare would pierce through her with a burning desire and his smell intoxicated her mind. Whenever he was around, she could barely think straight, desperately wanting to figure out what laid beneath that cold facade. Never in a thousand years, she could have guessed that he liked her back. On the other hand, he was not able to make proper decisions drunkenly and maybe Y/N was encouraging herself too much. There was almost nothing she knew about the tall boy and falling for him that fast could only harm herself in the end.

Y/N closed her eyes and brought her fingers to her lips, touching them, while imaging to feel Felix's on them again and remember what they tasted like. The second in command barely spoke to her and now that? There was definitely more behind it. It had to. Her other hand slowly wandered over her stomach to pull up the dress, slipping a finger inside to play with herself. It was not the first time she thought of him while touching herself, but this time something was off. Deep inside her something stopped Y/N, no matter how aroused she already was. She needed to talk to Felix. Under no circumstances she would let him ignore her for days again. Yanking the blanket away, Y/N jumped out of the bed and eagerly left the tent, turning her head furiously around to find the tall boy. He did not sit next to the others anymore and when she walked downhill to his cabin, she could feel her heart pumping furiously inside her chest. The girl stopped in front of the wooden door to knock and when no one answered she knocked again.

"Felix!" She tried to be as loud as she could be while still not attracting someone else's attention. There was still no answer and she felt dumb for even thinking it was as easy as this to find him after the previous events. He could not be far, the lost boys still needed someone who had an eye on them before someone could get hurt. Their hollering was still audible and the bonfire in the distance let Y/N see a few of them behind the bushes. For a moment she thought of going back to the clearing again, hoping to find Felix there, but the thought of meeting Piggy alone now was no good.

"Y/N." The girl suddenly heard Felix’s raspy voice behind her and she turned dazzled around, the warmest smile sitting on her lips.

Felix swayed dizzily into her direction, closing the gap between them two while he tried to keep his balance. The lost boy's head was too high up, making it impossible to steal a kiss from him now.

"What are you doing here? I told you to sleep." He asked nervously and pulled her away from his cabin towards the trees, his head constantly turning to look if someone watched. When he placed his hand on the girl's back again, his touch sent electric waves through her spine and she wondered how his slender finger would feel on her bare skin.

"Did you drink more?" She asked, noticing how he swayed more and the second in command vividly shook his head in response, grinning like a small boy on a sunny day.

"You have."

"No."

"Yes."

"Uh-Uh."

"I can cleanly tell-"

"I am-," Felix grabbed Y/N gently by the back of her neck and pulled her in, his face coming closer again. "-Not. Drunk."

She started to laugh and leaned into his grip, bringing her own hand up to touch his scar. Felix's blue eyes melted when he felt her fingers, closing them and relaxing as her touch traced as light as a feather down his skin. He relaxed for a moment and enjoyed the touch on his scarred skin, before he suddenly woke out of trance.

"The boys better not see us." He cleared his throat and broke apart, letting go of her.

"No one saw us, Felix." His name echoed through the dark forest like honey and Y/N grabbed his hand tight- she was way smaller than his. The girl felt Felix's breath in her face, how his nose almost touched hers and before he could do anything she had already closed the gap between them two, pressing her lips against his. Felix moaned surprised into her mouth but instantly grabbed her cheeks and slid his tongue inside. She could still taste the liquor and wondered if she might have taken advantage of this situation. The tall boy's moans told her otherwise. He moved his hands slowly towards the girl's waist down to her ass, cupping it rough while her smell intoxicated his senses.

"We shouldn't." He whispered and she heard him move even though it was too dark to see. Nevertheless Felix pressed himself harder against her and she felt through his pants how hard he already was from only kissing.

"Why not." She breathed against his neck, leaving a trail of kisses.

"The boys," Felix said, his eyes rolling back with a soft moan when he felt her tongue on his throat. It was enough to convince the second in command, his fingers wandered over her delicate body, burying them inside her tender flesh. It's been a long time since someone touched Y/N and she could not resist the lost boy's demanding hands. He lifted her dress and wandered with his palm over her skin to the rim of the underwear, enjoying the small moans when his fingers wandered further to her inner thigh, drawing invisible circles on it.

"Felix…" His grip tightened when he heard the girl purr his sweet name in the most delicious way and he almost could not hold himself back to tear her clothes off right at this place. The lost boy dared to slip one of his fingers inside Y/N's panties and when she did not complain, he pushed his slender index inside of her, feeling how her soft walls tightened around him. If Felix had not realised it earlier, he knew at least by now how much she craved him when he felt how wet she already was. Y/N let out a gasp when he started to push his long finger in and out of her, causing the girl's legs to tremble and her knees to shiver in excitement. She closed her eyes, giving up trying to see something in the dark as she melted into Felix's arms, her face sliding down onto his shoulder. She found her balance by grabbing the lost boy's leg and then she realised that he was kneeling in front of her. Y/N was actually glad that the surroundings were pitch black, feeling her cheeks heating up in embarrassment from her uncontrollable sweet moans. Before she would absolutely lose her mind, the girl managed to push the lost boy slightly away from her while her hands moved down to his belt. Her fingertips ran over the leather and the lost boy instantly frowned at her touch, his whole body stiffened and he stopped moving for a second.

"W-wait." He stammered, the adrenaline pushing the dizziness of the alcohol away. "I-I… never…" he continued and stopped, his hands wrapped around Y/N's wrist, insecurities overwhelming him as he held her in a safe distance. Now she really wished to see his face, well aware that he must look like earlier when he kissed her, startled and somehow shy.

"Well," she replied after a small pause, her voice echoing clear through the night, "Neither have I."

There was an awkward silence between them two and if the lost boy would not hold her by her hips, she would probably believe he was gone by now. The second in command was embarrassed for no reason, what did he fear? Y/N had no clue how to do this and if she was honest, it was way more appealing that Felix was a virgin, too, even though she did not expect that. All the time she thought he was so confident and now he was so vulnerable to her. The lost boy still did not speak, so she bent into another kiss, hoping to catch his lips in the dark. Felix gasped when he felt her lips on his scar and pulled the girl back in. This was good, they did not need to talk- should not talk. It would only make this weird. Talking would come naturally. Felix grabbed Y/N's hands gently and brought them back to his belt for her to continue what she had started. She let her fingers trail over the leather to his buckle to open it, enjoying the moment when she opened the button of his pants and slowly pulled down his zipper. The lost boy moaned inside her mouth when she slid her hand into his pants, pumping his hardened cock as best as the tight cotton would allow her to. Felix noticed her struggle and broke apart from the kiss to lift himself up and take off his clothes. Y/N heard how each piece of clothing dropped onto the ground while she waited to be told to do the same.

"Should I keep my dress on or-"

"Keep it on." Felix ordered and chuckled to himself, then pulled her back against him, his cock pressing against her stomach. The lost boy let his hands slide under the girl's dress and pulled down her panties for more access, then kneeled naked in front of her while his fingers did their magic. They felt so long and strange, making Y/N wonder if she could even handle Felix's cock. He already felt so big in her hand when she touched him again, fully exposed and hardened. The lost boy lifted one of her legs over his broad shoulder and before Y/N could even figure out what he was doing, Felix pressed his tongue against her clit. She let out a surprised gasp and giggled at the ticklish sensation. The lost boy felt how tense her leg was and reached for the girl's hand, holding it and drawing invisible circles on her palm.

"Relax." He lifted his head and lightly squeezed her fingers, caressing it a little, then pushed his mouth against her slit, his hot breath warming her as his tongue slid over her clit. The comfort of his touch relaxed Y/N instantly as if the lost boy had enchanted her somehow. He pressed his rough tongue harder against her, burying his face between her legs as he ate her out. The girl could not control herself to keep her from moaning, but led the boy's pace with it, whenever something felt good. He buried his nails into the tender flesh of her thighs and with a swift move he pushed the girl down onto the ground, pushing his fingers faster into her. She could not tell which was tongue or fingers, the overflowing sensation spread inside her body up to her eyes as she felt how she got closer to her orgasm. When Felix’s jaw started to ache he broke apart, breathing heavily and leaving Y/N craving for more on the cold ground in the exact moment she would almost finish. Without saying a word the lost boy pulled himself up to her, placing some sloppy kisses on her mouth before placing his arms next to her, so that his weight would not be too much.

"I want you so much." He panted while he slowly let his thumb circle over her aroused clit.

"Felix-" She pressed her lips onto his and stroked his hardened dick and pulled his torso closer to lead him to her wet entrance. The lost boy let out an uncontrollable moan as he pressed his dick against her dripping slit that already craved him so hard, slowly gliding in to make the girl feel every piece of his mighty cock. He stayed in this position for a moment to adjust this feeling and Y/N felt herself tighten around him, excitement overwhelming her body along with the smell of the lost boy intoxicating her mind.

"Fuck!" Felix hissed as he started to move in a steady motion. His lips caught her once more, pulling her into a long, passionate kiss. Y/N took a sharp breath and pushed her hand against his abdomen, when the lost boy moved, feeling like getting torn apart by him. The lost boy stopped for a moment, shoving one arm under her neck to hold her while his lips softly traced over her chest. After a short moment, Felix moved again. Y/N buried her nails into his skin and rolled her eyes back as the lost boy thrusted into her core, slowly feeling herself relaxing in this position after a few strokes. The pain faded away and she melted into Felix's body as if he was meant to hold her. The sweetest words kept unsaid, too embarrassing, too emotional, still, there was something inside them both that felt more than just enjoying sex. It was Felix who took her virginity and the thought of being the one who took his let her heart skip faster. The second in command felt like a dream,- his sweaty, hot skin pressed tight against hers, his abs flexed and hardened during every move and he was just so fucking tall. Felix moved both of his hands down and cupped her naked butt, lifting Y/N up and pressing her against the bark of a tree. He buried his fingers into her tender flesh and left a trail of kisses on her neck as far as he would reach her. The lost boy held Y/N as if she weighed nothing, pressing her body tightly against his skin. She could not resist sinking her teeth into his neck, sucking on the delicate spot until she was sure he would not leave without a mark. As soon as Felix realised what she was doing, he pulled her head back by her hair. To his own surprise, she let out a light moan, feeling even more excited from his big hand in them.

"The boys can't know." Felix purred into Y/N's ear before he licked over her neck, sinking his teeth lightly into her shoulder to hold him back from letting out another moan.

"Harder!" The girl commanded for Felix's surprise, who had already thought he was already being too rough with her. The lost boy followed the order, pressing himself tighter against her before he paced up, pumping in and out. The sudden sensation flooded Y/N's body and she knew there was something building up inside her, an indescribable feeling of being high. Felix moans got higher, sometimes even stuck in his throat and she was sure he was close too and that he desperately wanted to climax. Before she could realise it, Felix swayed them back onto the ground, gripping her ankles and pressing them against his legs as she wrapped her arms around his neck to capture the lost boy in another kiss.

"I am almost-" Felix spoke in a hoarse tone. It was so dark and Y/M really wished she could see his face at this moment. Felix was so vulnerable right now and even though his moans were the most beautiful melody in her ears, just the thought of a short glimpse of his face made her feel hotter.

"Felix." She purred when he suddenly hit a spot that would not stop making her feel like being on ecstasy.

"I-." She gasped when the knot inside her stomach released and she felt her orgasm roaring through her body with thousands of tiny, electric waves. Jaw clenched and eyes pinched, Felix gave it to her in short, powerful bursts, filling her up with throbbing pumps. His abs flexed and his hands tightened around her ankles. He cursed. His body tensed, and she swore she felt his cock pulsing inside of her as he came in waves, thrusting in and out until he felt himself getting soft.

"Fuck…" Felix let her legs fall to the side as he bent to rest his head on her sweaty chest. "That was…"

She combed her fingers through his messy hair, almost out of words how incredibly good she felt. "That was something."

"Yeah." He kissed the spot between her breasts, "It was."

Felix pulled his dick out, not even seeing the mess he made but still wanting more. Neither of them wanted that night to end and for a while, Felix tried to find his clothes and Y/N thought of how she would clean herself up.

"C'mon." Felix whispered and she heard him step away.

"Wait!" Y/N called and quickly grabbed her underwear- well, the only choice right now-, cleaning herself with it, before running after the tall blonde and crashing into his back.

"Easy, love." He chuckled and grabbed her under one of his arms and strutted towards the dark in one direction, knowing this place perfectly, even drunkenly and without light.

"Where are we going?" The girl asked after what felt like an eternity for her, but in reality it was just a few minutes. The trees left some space for the moonlight now and gave her a chance to take a peak from the second in command's happy face. His cheeks were dyed a deep scarlet and his hair hung messy and full sweat down his face.

"Trust me." He said and paced a little up before he came to halt in front of a big tree, the ladder up to it vanished behind some leaves. Felix climbed up first and lifted the girl up into the tree house when reached the trap door. Felix moved towards a small night desk and lit up a candle. As soon as the light flooded the room, Y/N saw the small cot and a self-made desk under one of the closed windows.

"I built it myself." The lost boy grinned and proudly watched the awe in her face. She swirled around and looked at some little carvings that were placed on the wooden table. Some of them looked like her. When Y/N's eyes detected the little sculpture, she finally understood why she never saw the results and why he burned one earlier. The girl turned around to say something, but Felix stopped her immediately. Before she could say anything, Felix dropped down onto one knee and pulled her into a kiss. His tongue slid over her lips, begging for permission to enter. Without thinking about it, she opened her mouth and felt the lost boy's hand on her hips, pressing her against his body.

"I never thought you would like me too." Felix moaned and eagerly kissed his way down her neck, back to her face and lips, repeating the same thing on the other side and showing how hungry he still was for the girl. Felix clearly had not been touched in a while, just like Y/N, so it was quite natural that they immediately would have a moment like this sooner or later. But why Felix? What was about him that made Y/N constantly crave more, causing her to feel like an addict without his drugs, whenever his lips left hers? Her cheeks heated up and she smiled in the kiss, thinking of the previous events, how Felix's hands felt on her skin. It was special to be with him and the girl's instincts told her that it was more than just sex, that Felix wanted more, too.

"I want you again." Felix licked over his lips and looked at Y/N through half-opened eyes before he slowly melted back into another kiss, this time slow and passionate, synchronising with her while his hands moved down her hips and legs. He gently rubbed his hand against her inner thigh and wandered towards her crotch, to shove a finger inside her still wet hole. He smirked dirty when he felt his mess. Y/N wanted him so much, just like he craved her, maybe even a little more.

"I want to get naked all night long." Felix purred as he pushed his fingers inside and out of Y/N, her light moans echoing in his ears. Without further commands, the girl slipped the dress over her shoulder, letting it elegantly slide down her now exposed body. Felix's cheeks flushed up into the deepest red, his eyes admiring every sight of her that he desired for so long, and truth be told, he was in awe. When the cotton touched the floor, the lost boy grabbed for the hem of his own shirt and ripped it off, then quickly unbuttoned his pants before he crossed them with his underwear through the room. When Felix pinned her down and pulled Y/N into another kiss, he was already hard again, his hot skin burning against hers as her mind drifted off into a feeling of ecstasy. The way Felix's hands trailed down her body gave her chills once more, kept her warm and made her feel wanted.

"Pan would kill us for this." She mumbled into the kiss when the girl thought of how he protected her earlier, something he never did before and sure did not keep unnoticed to the other boys as well. It worried Y/N for a moment, thinking about how Pan always found out every secret, no matter how little it was. And this was definitely not a small secret, something that could be obvious to others. Or maybe Y/N was just paranoid.

"Relax." Felix said, frowning at her words as if the same thought had bothered him for a while now, too. "He isn't here. He won't find out."

The blonde boy rolled over onto his back, pulling the girl with him so she would straddle him. The light of the candle danced over his sharp features, letting it shine in an orange light that spread down to his muscles, constantly catching her eyes as if they were glued on him. Felix always looked beautiful in the orange light of the fire. Every night she would catch herself staring at him. He was perfect.

"You look so beautiful." Felix whispered more to himself than to her, then wiped some hair out of her face. "Unbelievable that someone like you chose someone weird like me."

Before Y/N could correct him, the second in command already captured her lips with his own, burying one hand in her hair while he kneaded one of her breasts with the other one. His words only flattered the girl and she felt the burning desire to finally be one with him again and melt into his body. Felix gasped at her touch and moaned into her mouth when she wrapped her hand around his dick, slowly pumping up and down while gently rubbing at the delicate tip. His member felt long and thick in her hands, but did not scare her off like earlier. Placing the tip at her wet entrance, she slowly slid down onto him, relieved that the lost boy did not push against back,. The stretching feeling made her feel like getting torn apart all over again and she gave herself a moment to adjust to the size. The lost boy rolled his eyes back and shut them with a loud moan when he felt her walls tightened around, rubbing his thumbs against the tender flesh of her hips, when she finally started to slowly move up and down. Seeing the ruthless second in command like this was really stunning and lovely to look at. Felix's mouth was slightly agape and the muscles on his forehead were constantly twitching, moving his eyebrows constantly around. Never had Y/N seen so much emotion in his face before. She pressed her body against the lost boy and sucked at the tender part of Felix's neck. The lost boy used that moment as a chance to turn her over, holding Y/N tight in his arm, the other one holding his weight so he would not suffocate her while he was pumping in and out. Y/N moaned in ecstasy and ran her hands over his muscular back, feeling his skin against them and how his sweat dropped onto her body. She placed her legs on each side of his, clearly noticing the height difference and feeling like a delicate doll as he embraced her. Felix paced up and she rolled her eyes back when he entered in another angle to come even deeper. She never wanted this to stop and kept feeling how the lost boy filled her with his thick manhood, smelling his scent and feeling his hot skin burning against hers. Felix kissed his way down to her chest and caught one of her nipples between his lips, lightly starting to suck on them and intensing it with each time he thrusted in. These were the final strokes that caused Y/N's legs to shiver and tense up every muscle in her body as her climax roared through her whole body, up into her eyes into the back of her head. The lost boy grabbed Y/N's shoulders and when he came, too, the light of the candles danced in his beautiful, scrunched up face. It was a lie to say she did not like that view and the squeaking sound he made when Felix felt his orgasm deep inside her with throbbing pumps. Felix rolled next to the girl, trying to catch his breath and when he did so, he grabbed a towel from the bed for her.

"We could have used the bed." Y/N broke the soothing silence after a while and Felix chuckled, then nodded in agreement.

"Next time." He grinned, pulling his boxers up and placing himself back onto the ground. His eyes did not stop looking at the girl while she grabbed her dress and pulled it back over herself. For a long time they just looked at each other, laughing and giggling, kissing each other but remaining silent. This was clearly something none of them expected to happen.

"What do you see in me?" Y/N suddenly asked, caughting the lost boy off guard, his facial expression went into full confusion. It took him a moment to think about her question before he simply smiled. His eyes would always melt at her sight and in that moment she needed no words from him to realise how much he was in love with her. The lost boy pulled Y/N closer to him and placed her head against his chest, lifted her on his arms and carried her to the bed where he would let himself fall onto the soft mattress. His legs hung over the wooden frame as he gently rubbed his hands over her back while listening to the beat of his heart.

"I would never let anyone harm you." His voice was just a warm breeze on her earlobe, tickling her like a gentle kiss.

"What about Pan?" She asked after a while and took a glimpse at his relaxed face and how her question did not seem to have woken any worries inside him now. He had brushed it off earlier.

"I think, actually, he knew way before me." Felix chuckled low and shook his head unbelieving. "He gave me a chance I got wasted."

#felix ouat #ouat felix #parker croft #ouat felix imagine #ouat felix x reader #ouat felix smut

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wandaromanova · 3 years

Text

Lost

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Warnings: mentions of cancer, death, cussing

A/N: hello! i’d like to put a disclaimer that i am not in any way knowledgeable of the medical field and all of the terminology and information used in this fic was found through research! happy reading <3

anon requested: hiiiii !! can i request like an angst into fluff natxfem!reader one shot where the reader has a really bad day and takes it out on nat and hurts her feelings and so they go to bed angry. but the reader realizes their mistake and the next morning just wakes her up by showering her with love and then takes the whole day to do cute little date things with her? like making her favorite meal or like dancing in the kitchen to their favorite song late at night or just super fluffy things? if not, that’s okay!! have a good day <3

Summary: The heavy weight of her profession gets to Y/N and she takes her anger out on her loving girlfriend; Natasha Romanoff.

Word Count: 3K | navigation

please do not repost or try and take ownership of my work. reblogs, likes, and comments are always welcome. <3

Becoming a doctor was no easy feat.

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Once high school is completed, one must receive your bachelor’s degree before taking the MCAT exam and applying to medical school. After four years of medical school, you must endure a year as an intern before being promoted to a resident.

Depending on what specialty one has selected, residency can span from three to seven years. Fellowships follow after but are typically an optional course that provides extra training.

Yes, there are a lot of necessary steps to take in order to set foot into the medical world, but somehow, the years of foreplay could never compare to being a full-fledged physician; and you knew this all too well.

You are a pediatric oncologist and your job was to diagnose and provide treatment to children and teenagers who had cancer. You specialized in hematology; the treatment of blood disorders.

You were the head of pediatric oncology in a Manhattan hospital. You dealt with a lot of patients, but a two-year-old little girl named Sarah was secretly your favorite.

Despite being diagnosed with acute myeloid leukemia, Sarah’s positivity and playful personality never faltered.

Even if she didn’t understand the circumstances because of her young age, you knew she was suffering. Regardless of it all, every session you had with her was endearing.

You met with the child once a week to administer chemotherapy. Her enthusiasm never failed to have you awestruck. Most of your patients were exhausted from the treatments, but not Sarah.

She was a hyper child who would attempt to sing Frozen songs, performing as you tried to fight a smile from taking over your features. She had a stuffed Olaf doll that she brought with her to every visit and it was heartwarming to see her hug the doll close to her chest.

Sarah would even bring you drawings every week that you would keep in your locker. You’d admire each and every one of the drawings, even if you couldn’t really tell what they were.

You’d grown fond of the little girl in the past two months you had been treating her. You were also relatively close to her parents, who were probably the kindest people you’ve ever encountered. It made sense that Sarah was the ball of sunshine she was, she obviously got it from her parents.

Most times, parents were on edge and extremely short-tempered. If parents saw you often, that meant that their child was diagnosed with some form of cancer. Understandably, they would be rather hostile whilst interacting with you, but you never took their behavior personally.

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If you were in their shoes, you were positive that you wouldn’t be very friendly either.

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You had grown fond of the beaming child. You were aware that growing emotionally attached to patients was unprofessional, but how could you not?

You adored children and for that very reason, you had chosen a specialty that allowed you to help kids as much as medicine would allow. You always had a soft spot for kids and you found joy in helping them as best as you possibly could.

Sarah had a very good chance at pulling through. With consistent treatment and her young age, her survival rate was around 68%. Those were considerably good odds in these circumstances. Not to mention, the chemotherapy seemed to be paying off. At the rate she was improving, she was predicted to be out of the woods soon enough.

However, the child had developed a bacterial infection. Since she had been receiving chemotherapy, the treatment had damaged her white blood cells which are responsible for fighting off infections.

All you could do was provide antibiotics to try and fight off the infection. You had monitored her for some time in hopes of seeing any sign of improvement, but unfortunately, it wasn’t enough. Her immune system was extremely vulnerable and there wasn’t any way to reverse the damage.

Your heart was torn to pieces when you delivered the news to her parents. They broke down in the hallway outside of Sarah’s room as you informed them of Sarah’s rapidly shortened life expectancy. It was only a matter of time before the young child would pass and honestly, this was what you hated most about your job.

You hated that you couldn’t help every single patient. You hated how cruel the world could be to take away an innocent child from their loving parents.

You allowed her parents to spend time by her bedside. They laid on either side of her bed, clinging onto her for dear life. What broke you the most was the paleness of Sarah’s once glowing skin. Her smile was still present but didn’t quite reach her eyes like it used to.

Her parents quietly sang ‘Love Is An Open Door’ to Sarah. You felt your heart clench in a bittersweet way as you silently watched. Normally, Sarah wouldn’t hesitate to join in, but her lack of breath prevented her from doing so. All she could do was close her eyes and lightly nod her head along to their voices.

Sarah passed hours later and it was an extremely somber experience. Hearing the cries of parents who lost their children wasn’t easy and it never would be. Your job had its pros and cons, and this was the biggest negative.

You fought back your own tears as you exited the room, giving the two mourning parents some privacy after you recorded Sarah’s time of death. You found the nearest restroom and allowed the tears to fall down your face.

A pure soul had been ripped away from the world, never having the chance to experience the great things life had to offer.

•❅──────────────── ‎⧗ ────────────────❅•

4 Hours Later

You trudged into your loft, immediately taking off your coat and hanging it up before tossing your keys on the small table by the front door.

Your girlfriend, Natasha, had heard your arrival and quickly exited the bedroom to greet you, a wide smile on her face. However, her smile fell when she noticed your defeated state.

Your shoulders were slumped as you slouched slightly and your eyes were dripping with sadness.

“Honey? What’s wrong?” Natasha approached you while you stood frozen in front of the door. Her hands came up to cup your cheeks as she stared at you in concern, her eyes scanning over your features.

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“I lost Sarah.”

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Natasha’s eyes widened and her heart sunk at your words. She was aware of how much you adored the two-year-old. Once a week, you would rave about the child and how adorable she was at the dinner table. You would go on and on about how Sarah would sing to you, draw pictures for you, and bring along stickers to place onto your coat.

The redhead loved how happy you looked whenever you spoke about any of your patients, but most especially Sarah. It brought Natasha some joy of her own to see you speak animatedly about Sarah; your happiness was her happiness.

So, the news hurt her almost as much as it hurt her. She knew how much you loved Sarah, despite never saying it straight out.

“Oh my god. I’m so sorry. I know how much you cared about her. Are you okay?” Natasha’s voice was oozing with sympathy. You couldn’t help but feel irritated by her question.

You tore her hands off of your cheeks and walked past her and into the kitchen, pouring yourself a glass of water as the redhead watched you intently.

“Am I okay? I’m fine! It’s not like I lost an extremely young patient today or anything. What kind of stupid fucking question is that, Natasha?” You took a sip of cold water to try and calm yourself damn, but your attempt was futile.

The redhead made her way into the kitchen, standing on the opposite side of the island as you took another sip of water, eyes burning a hole into her head over the rim of the glass.

“I know, that was a dumb question. I just want to help you, Y/N/N.” Natasha remained calm and patient as she spoke to you. She was no stranger to the loss of a person she desperately tried to save and knew all too well the sadness and anger that accompanied the tragedy. She was an Avenger, after all.

“I don’t want your help and I don’t need you!” You slammed your cup onto the counter as you raised your voice. Honestly, it was surprising that you hadn’t shattered the glass with the amount of force you exerted.

Natasha felt an ache in her chest as you yelled at her. She knew that you weren’t in the right state of mind and didn’t take it personally, but that didn’t make your words hurt any less.

“You save entire cities and I can’t even save a single fucking person!” You were turning red at this point, tears of frustration streaming down your face. The redhead hated seeing you cry, but she knew better than to approach you at this moment.

“Babe, you save so many pe-” Natasha’s tried to speak, but you quickly interjected.

“If you’re going to try and spew some philosophical bullshit to me right now, I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to hear another god damn word from your mouth.”

The redhead looked down defeatedly. She had never seen you so upset, let alone direct your frustrations towards her. Her eyes fell down to the marble counter between you both before looking up at you. You were breathing heavily, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you tried to catch your breath.

Without another word, Natasha retreated back to the bedroom, shutting the door softly behind her. You watched her until she was out of your view and let out a sigh. Your hands gripped the edges of the kitchen island, supporting your weight as you shut your eyes.

You brought a hand up to your face and pinched the bridge of your nose. After a few minutes, you made your way into the living room, chucking off your shoes before collapsing onto the couch. You didn’t feel like interacting with Natasha anymore tonight, knowing that you most likely wouldn’t be able to control your temper.

You were just so fed up with the painful losses you had to endure from your profession.

You knew that being a doctor was more dark clouds and thunder, than sunshine and rainbows, but you just wished that for once, the weather forecast would work in your favor.

The emotional day had finally caught up to you. Your body relaxed as you sunk further into the couch, eyes fluttering shut as you succumbed to a much-needed slumber.

Unbeknownst to you, Natasha was still awake. She laid flat on her back and stared up at the ceiling in thought. She was mad at you, as much as she didn’t want to be. Natasha had gone through the same thing and never lost her cool with you as you had with her.

The redhead calmed down slowly, turning on her side and facing the empty space beside her which you normally occupied. She reached one arm out, her skin colliding with cool sheets, already missing the warmth of your body.

Natasha hated sleeping without you by her side, She didn’t feel complete when you weren’t steadily sleeping next to her, your arms wrapped around her body. However, she hoped that things would improve in the morning.

And with that thought in mind, she drifted off into a dreamless sleep, clutching the sheets firmly in her hand.

•❅──────────────── ‎⧗ ────────────────❅•

The Next Morning

You awoke to a blinding light, the morning sun shining through the windows and landing directly onto your face. You let out a groan and slowly sat up, stretching out your limbs with a groan. The couch wasn’t the most comfortable place to sleep, you were aching everywhere.

You sat there for a moment as the events of the day before caught up to you. Not only had you lost Sarah, but you upset Natasha. You immediately felt guilty as you recalled the harsh words you spat at her in a fit of rage. You felt like a complete asshole, and rightfully so.

You quickly stood up and entered the kitchen, retrieving some bacon from the freezer and eggs from the refrigerator. You grabbed two separate pans and washed your hands, making sure to get the coffee pot running before you began cooking.

Your girlfriend absolutely loved bacon, eggs, and coffee. She described the combinations as a ‘party in her mouth.’ So, this was going to be an ‘i’m sorry for being a bitch last night’ apology breakfast.

You got started on the meal and by the time you finished up and had the stove off, Natasha stalked out of the bedroom slowly. She eyed you carefully as she approached, you sent a soft smile her way.

“You made breakfast,” Natasha spoke and you shyly nodded your head. You moved away from the stove and rounded the counter. The redhead stood in her spot as you wrapped your arms around her waist, her arms reflexively going around your neck.

“I was an asshole last night.” You stated and your girlfriend nodded her head in agreement. “Yeah, you were a total pain in the ass, the absolute worst.” You rolled your eyes at Natasha’s teasing tone.

“I’m sorry for how I behaved. I was just so upset about… Sarah. I didn’t mean to take it out on you and I can’t even begin to tell you how bad I feel for yelling at you when all you wanted to do was help me.”

Your voice was full of emotion, your eyes boring into her emerald irises as you poured your heart into every syllable you uttered. Natasha smile gently at you, her fingers lightly tugging on the baby hairs on the nape of your neck.

“It’s okay. I know you weren’t mad at me.” You let out a sigh of relief as the redhead stared at you softly. She let out a small chuckle at your dramatics before continuing.

‘I understand how you feel. The team and I, we try our very best to save as many civilians as we can, but sometimes it’s completely out of our control. It’s the exact same situation.”

One of Natasha’s hands found its way to your cheek, gently cupping the skin as you leaned into her touch. You were listening intently to her every word, mesmerized by the calming rasp of her voice.

“Don’t dwell on what you couldn’t do, but give yourself some credit for everything you did do. I may not know what happened, but what I do know is that you tried everything you could, no?”

Natasha questioned you and you nodded your head. “I gave her antibiotics to fight the infection, but it was too severe.” The redhead rubbed her thumb against your cheek.

“All that matters is that you did your best and that’s all anyone could ever ask for.” Natasha ended her little speech as she placed a soft kiss on the tip of your nose. You couldn’t help but smile, an overwhelming feeling of happiness taking over.

“Thank you. I love you and your… what was it?” You furrowed your eyebrows in concentration before your face lit up. Natasha raised an eyebrow at you. “Philosophical bullshit. That was the words.” The Russian let out a laugh, shaking her head from side to side at your antics.

“Seriously though, I’m so grateful for you. You’re so amazing to me even when I don’t deserve it. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” Natasha’s laughter died down as your tone turned serious. Your eyes were so full of love and adoration as you stared into her eyes deeply.

“Well, let’s hope you never have to find out.” Natasha smiled once more and you couldn’t resist pressing your lips against her plump ones. Your mouths moved in tandem at a slow pace, enjoying the rawness and love that accompanied each movement.

You broke the kiss when air became an issue. Nat’s eyes fluttered open as you wiggled your eyebrows at her playfully.

“So, are you ready for some breakfast? Maybe after we eat, we can go on top of a rooftop and I’ll serenade you with a rendition of ‘Sorry’ by Justin Bieber.”

Natasha’s head flew back as she laughed uncontrollably at your words. “What? Do you not like the Biebs? If you want, I could play ‘Baby Come Back’ by Player from a boombox and hold it over my head, instead.” The redhead continued to laugh profusely and you soon joined in. Your arms tightened around her waist as your giggles subsided.

“I think cuddling on the couch and watching the Kardashians eating ridiculously large bowls of salad will do.” You nodded your head in agreement but didn’t make a move to release Natasha from your grip. She didn’t let go either.

The two of you just stood there, basking in each other’s embrace, a comfortable silence falling over you both.

Natasha never failed to say the right things to pull you out of the dark abyss that was your mind. She was completely right, as always. There would always be bad days, patients who were progressing one day and deteriorating the next.

However, there were also good days, and you shouldn’t allow the bad to overshadow all the good you’ve done. Like with Natasha, she wasn’t always the superhero she is today. She took her dark past and turned it into a bright future.

Nat didn’t let her bad days define her and neither should you.

Of course, you would always remember every single patient you had lost, but now, you would take the pain and turn it into motivation; motivation to improve yourself, not only in your professional life but in your personal life as well.

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You would do right by the ones you’ve lost and the one who stuck by your side; Natasha Romanoff.

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nanaminokanojo · 3 years

Text

BLOOM | Sukuna X You | Part 3/3 [COMPLETED]

collection masterlist

one two three | Bloom Masterlist

“You up for it?”

You were sitting at your usual spot at Maki’s. It was still quite early so the pub wasn’t as crowded as it usually is, and it was a weekday. You were there to meet Sukuna but the owner suddenly started chatting you up like she usually does, beating around the bush for a bit before she finally asked you a favor. Apparently, they’re under-staffed and is in need of another waitress but hiring a new one was out of the question since it was a temporary post, just until the person who really works for her recovers from a broken ankle.

“It’s just from four in the afternoon to eight on weekdays, and since you’re usually hanging around here during those times, I thought of asking you. We’re just really short of hands for the next week,” she said, flashing you a rueful smile. “I asked Ieiri but she’s in the middle of her internship.”

Maki had been there for you before, talking to you when you had issues you couldn’t share with your friends and always giving you free non-alcoholic drinks during your exams, and you didn’t see anything wrong with helping her out for once. You’ll earn from it, too. “Sure. When do I begin?”

She clapped her hands excitedly which took you aback. She’s always so tough, barking orders here and there or putting rowdy customers in their proper places, that you didn’t really expect her to be all giggly and excited all of a sudden. “You’ll do it?”

“Yeah, why not?”

She hugged you then. “Oh my god, Y/N. Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

You waved her aside, chuckling. “It’s fine. It’s for a week anyway. No big deal.”

She sighed in relief. “You don’t know how much weight you’ve taken off my shoulders, so it is a big deal. Okay for you to start on Monday?”

You nodded.

“I’m giving you all the cherry blossom tea smoothie you want.” She grinned cheekily at you then. “And speaking of cherry blossoms, I noticed you and Sukuna coming here together. Are you together now?”

You felt your face heating up at the mention of the man's name but you shook your head. "Not yet."

"Yet?"

You chuckled awkwardly. "We're working it out, I guess. We're not exclusively dating though and he isn't my boyfriend..." You felt a bit uncomfortable at the thought. It's the first time you're saying it out loud, what Sukuna isn't to you, and you had to admit the notion was kinda disappointing. But the problem was with you. "Yeah...just that."

"He likes you though. I see the way he looks at you." Maki smiled knowingly at you. "Does this have something to do with your no dating policy? It's ridiculous if you ask me. Sukuna is a good man."

Ah, straightforward as always. "I know that. That's why I'm letting him have a go at changing my mind."

"And is he successful so far?"

"He's almost there." You frowned then, catching her comment about him. "You seem to know him well."

"We go way back," Maki explained. "My old man still owns the pub when he was a student and he came here all the time listening to me and that old geezer fight."

"Oh. That must have been a sight."

"Plus he's friends with my cousin, Toji."

You tilted your head in question. Sukuna never really talked about his friends, and he has never introduced you to any of them. It’s the first time you’re hearing about that side of him. “Really? What was he like back then?”

Maki snorted. “He was an idiot who had too much time in his hands. He’s smart, but had a penchant for mischief. I mean, I guess you already figured that out just looking at him. Nobody really thought he would end up to be this big-shot architect.”

You laughed. “Really?”

“Toji’s influence, I guess. That one’s a bigger idiot.” She looked deep in thought for a moment then said, “Why his wife chose him instead of Sukuna is a puzzle.”

You were confused. You did not know what she was talking exactly, and why her cousin’s wife should have chosen Sukuna was beyond you. For some reason, you didn’t have a good feeling about it, then you remembered what he told you before about dating just one person.

Could it be… “No…” You didn’t even realize you said that out loud until Maki held onto your hand, squeezing gently.

“I’m sorry. I said too much.”

“Well, don’t stop now,” you found yourself saying, unable to help it. “Is the situation what I think it is? Your cousin’s wife…He told me before that he only ever steadily dated one girl. Is it…?”

Maki nodded, grimacing. “They cheated on him six years ago.”

“So, he lost his girlfriend and best friend?” You felt your heart break at the thought. You might not have known him back then, but you couldn’t help but feel bad on his behalf.

“Yes. I’m not saying it’s his fault, but he’s hardly ever there since he was busy.”

“It’s not enough grounds for them to do that!” you stated loudly, feeling genuinely hurt for him. Damn, if he dated just one woman ever and never had a relationship again before you – for six years – then that spoke volumes of how much it affected him afterwards. You caught yourself and flashed Maki an apologetic look. “I’m sorry.”

“Understandable.” She sighed. “He went overseas and didn’t come back until just two years ago. Guess why he came back.”

“Why?”

“To attend their wedding.”

You didn’t know what was more messed up, but you also know Sukuna to be a genuinely good person. If he disappeared for that long only to come back to attend his best friend and ex’s wedding, then it only meant he totally forgave them. If he was giving another relationship a chance, particularly with you, then it also meant he has healed. How he could be so caring and affectionate towards you despite what he went through astonished you, but maybe that’s just how he really was as a person.

“Are they okay now?”

“Yes.” She laughed slightly then. “You should see how he dotes on Toji’s son.”

Maki ruffled your hair, seeing how you’ve reacted. “Just one piece of unsolicited advice, Y/N. If you decide to be with him, be certain about it and don’t ever hurt him.”

You only nodded, taking her words to heart. She was right. Just as you were afraid to be left alone, nobody deserves to be hurt like that. You wanted to be angry at the fact that his own best friend did that to him but at the same time, you were proud of him for coming out of it while maintaining a good view about the whole concept of relationships and perhaps love. It radiated in the way he treated you, and all the effort he is putting into making things work despite your hesitations.

He arrived a few moments later, showing you that crooked smile of his. You both had one beer, and over that, he asked about your day and he told you about yours. When you were finished with your drinks, he said, “Mind going out for a drive? I wanted to tell you something.”

“Okay.” You couldn’t meet his eyes after what Maki told you, and several times, he asked if you were okay to which you responded affirmatively, trying to keep your emotions at bay.

Sukuna took you to the cliffs just around the city limits, parking his car a few yards from the edge enough to have a good view of the sea of lights below. When he killed the engine, you disembarked from his Jeep, walking closer to the edge when you felt his hand on your arm.

“Not too close to the edge,” he said, looking at you with concern written all over his face, but before he could ask what was bothering you, you said, “You were going to tell me something.”

At that, he sighed as if in long-suffering. “Yes, that.” He looked at you seriously as if he was going to tell you something grave only to end up saying, “I’m going to be away for two weeks starting Monday. I’m going to London.”

Momentarily forgetting about your conversation with Maki, you blinked, not knowing whether to laugh or cry. “Why did you have to look like you’re about to tell me you’re going to be executed or something? Jesus, Sukuna.” You laughed despite yourself.

“Don’t laugh. I’m annoyed.” He pouted. “Aren’t you sad? Two weeks is a long time. I won’t get to see you, and I have to check for time zones if I want to talk to you over the phone.”

You held his hand, twining your fingers with his before raising it to plant a kiss on his knuckles. “I will miss you, but you don’t have to be so upset about it. I’ll be right here when you come back. Stop being all dramatic.”

“I’m not!”

“You’re funny.”

He rolled his eyes, but then said, “So, before that, I was planning to take you to meet my best friend and his wife on Saturday. I’ve been telling them about you…”

The rest of his words faded, the only thought registering in your head was how he mentioned his best friend and his wife. You were going to meet them. You couldn’t say no to that given that they seem to play integral parts in his life despite what happened. “Okay.”

“You’re gonna love their little boy,” he said excitedly.

“Sure…”

“But really, Y/N? You won’t have a whirlwind romance with some college brat while I’m away?”

You let go of his hand, stepping back. You didn’t like the sound of that. Not one bit. Not when he was speaking from experience. “What do you take me for?!” The words came out a little harsher than you intended, the resentment you felt for his previous relationship resurfacing.

He arched a brow at you, puzzled at your outburst. “Y/N, I was kidding.”

Not able to hold back anymore, you turned away from him as tears started flooding your vision. You didn’t even know why you were crying over the whole thing, and you just felt like an idiot as you faced him again, frantically drying your tears.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” He looked alarmed as he held onto both of your hands, stopping you from wiping harshly at your face. “Why are you crying? Is it because of what I said?”

You shook your head. “No…no. Can I hug you though?” you asked and he almost laughed as he himself drew you closer, wrapping his arms around you. “You never have to ask.”

You did the same, holding onto him tightly, hoping it was enough for you to get rid of any feeling of hurt left in him if there was any to begin with; that it was enough for him to be at ease where you were concerned when he goes away. Still, you wanted to make sure. You stayed like that until you’ve calmed down, thinking you were doing it more for yourself than for him.

“What brought this on?”

“You won’t get mad?” you asked between hiccups, looking up at him.

“Why would I?”

“Promise me first. I just don’t want to hide anything from you and it’s been bothering me.”

“Okay. I promise.” As if to emphasize his words, he pecked you on the tip of your nose. “Now what is bothering you?”

“Since you mentioned your best friend,” you began, “Toji, right?”

He eyed you, nonplussed. “How did you know?”

“Maki told me…” You started tearing up again. “She-she told me w-what happened. Everything…so I know…Please don’t get mad.”

He clucked his tongue. “That woman. Seriously.”

“I’m glad she told me and I’m sorry if I pried, but I can’t…”

“Is that why you’re crying?”

“Y-yes.”

“Why?”

“Because they hurt you.”

His expressions softened. “Silly.”

You pulled him close, wrapping your arms around him. “It’s not silly. Nobody deserves that, least of all you. You’re always so good to me, and I can’t imagine anybody doing that to you, least of all your best friend.”

Sukuna’s hug tightened a tad, placing his chin on top of your head. “No sense crying about it anymore, Y/N. I’ve forgiven and forgotten. It wasn’t their fault if they felt that way when I went away. They found common ground, I guess. Toji thought he was losing his best friend and she felt the same way.”

“Okay.”

“If it isn’t too much to ask, I want you to get to know them, too, just like I want to be close to Satoru, Suguru and Ieiri. They’re important to me.”

“Okay.”

“You mean it?”

“Yes.” You met his gaze. “If they’re important to you, then I will do that for you and meet them.”

He wiped away your tears then. “Thank you.”

“Don’t sweat it,” you mumbled, breathing in deeply. “Sorry you had to see me like this.”

“You don’t have to hide anything from me.” He shrugged then, snickering. “Maki’s timing sure is impeccable.”

And so, Saturday came and you held onto Sukuna’s hand as he helped you out of the Jeep after parking in front of a two-story house with pale yellow walls and white shutters. Before it was a small, well-tended yard surrounded with white picket fences, very much like the house you grew up in under the care of your grandfather. A small, plastic slide and swing set was placed on the grass along with a tiny bike and some toys in the sandbox.

“You okay?” he asked, interrupting your reverie. When you nodded, he said, “You’re not gonna cry, are you?” making you smack him on the arm. “Ow?”

“Serves you right.”

Just then, the door opened revealing this couple you assumed to be the Fushiguros. They looked good together, both with raven hair with their equally dark-haired little boy who looked about eighteen months old, all chubby cheeks and pudgy cuteness.

Toji was this big, hulking man with a vertical scar on the right side of his mouth which oddly added to his charm instead of marring his handsome face. He was carrying his little boy in his muscular arms, taking the edge off his tough looks. He was the first one to approach.

"Hi. Y/N, right?"

"Yes, hi." You shook his hand, smiling genuinely despite your previous notions regarding him and his wife who also stepped forward, taking your hands in hers. She was beautiful, too, and she gave you this feeling of coming home with her bright eyes and kind smile. You couldn’t blame Toji for falling for her, then again, Sukuna used to be in love with her, too.

"You're so pretty!" she said as a way of greeting. "I'm Mirai. It's nice to meet you."

Toji glanced at Sukuna, the gesture injected with meaning. "It's nice to finally meet you. Typically, he's quiet, but he won't shut up about you."

"Shut up," Sukuna muttered.

"It's nice to meet you both." You chuckled. "He isn't quiet around me either." Then your eyes shifted to their kid. You weren't exactly enamored with the idea of children, but you understood what Sukuna meant. "Hi, little angel," you couldn't help but say to the boy who was looking at you with wide, sparkly eyes framed with long lashes. "Your son is lovely."

"Thank you," Mirai returned happily, watching her son reaching for you. "Aww, Megumi likes you."

"Megumi," you repeated. "Blessing?"

"Yes," Toji said proudly and you gathered from his statement that he named the baby.

You looked towards Sukuna as if for assurance as you reached out. "May I hold him?"

"Sure." Toji handed Megumi to you and you followed after them as they led you and Sukuna into their home, marveling at how well-behaved he was, just leaning against your chest and sucking on his thumb, all warm and smelling like baby powder and everything that reminded you of happiness.

The two men went to the living room to catch up while you went to the kitchen with Mirai who was curiously asking you one thing after the other.

"Sukuna told us you're a student. What are you studying?" she asked as she stirred something in a pot.

"Comprehensive literature," you answered, untangling Megumi's hand from your hair.

"Are you sure you're okay carrying Megumi?" Mirai threw you a rueful smile.

You nodded, beaming warmly at the child. "I don't mind. He's so adorable."

Mirai smiled lovingly at her son. "Isn't he? I was so happy when I first had him and saw how much he looked like his dad."

"Yeah, he's like a mini version of Toji. He has your eyes though."

“Thank you.” She grinned. "So, how long have you known Sukuna?"

"Just almost half a year. Around that."

"Guy's whipped for you, Y/N."

"I heard that!" Sukuna called out from the living room. He suddenly entered the kitchen, plucking Megumi off your arms saying, "My turn. How's my favorite boy?"

You just snickered, your thoughts elsewhere. It got you wondering if you would even have met Sukuna if things didn't turn out the way they have. You were picturing Sukuna standing beside Mirai instead of Toji but you just couldn't and it got you contemplating that maybe things ended up the way they did because that's what's meant to be.

As opposed to your resentment to what they did to him, you were now glad, perhaps even thankful and more understanding of Sukuna's reasons for letting things go and remaining friends with them. Because if those things didn't happen, you won't have him. Because if they didn't turn out that way, you wouldn't be watching him being all silly and adorable with Megumi, giving you a picture of what kind of father he would be when he did have kids. Because then, you wouldn't be considering the possibility of a future with anyone…with him.

Then you froze as your feelings for him became clearer. Because why else would you be spending all your time with him, being close to him and getting to know him? Why were you so keen on making sure he was happy? Why were you hurting on his behalf? Why was the world suddenly a better place despite the fact that you're supposedly alone?

It was simple. You're in love with him.

"Y/N?" you heard his deep voice resonating from inside your head then louder as your vision began to focus. He was standing in front of you with Megumi in his arms.

"Huh?"

"You okay? You were spacing out."

"Just thinking." You bit your lower lip, looking apologetic.

"Getting lost in your own world again, I see?" he teased.

"Getting lost in yours is more like it."

He and Miriai looked at you at the same time, the latter giggling pretty much like Ieiri whenever you told her about Sukuna. "You two are so cute."

You brushed the comment off, approaching her. "How can I help?"

You set the table with Toji's help, listening to him talk about Megumi and Mirai with such profound fondness and pride. Just like Sukuna, his appearance was an irony to his funny and soft personality it was disconcerting.

"It's great to have guests over. We rarely do this but Sukuna comes here every Saturday, and well, he isn't a guest anymore," Mirai said as she fed Megumi.

"Thanks for having me then," you replied, still fixated on their kid who was babbling about with his mouth full while he repeatedly knocked a plastic spoon on his high chair.

The conversation was light, circling on their old days, but you knew they were trying to skirt around the ugly things. Mirai regaled you of how Toji got the scar on his mouth. Turns out he and Sukuna were street racers at some point. "Easy cash," as the former had put it. "I mean who wants a part time job if you earn thousands a night?"

"So, what do you plan to become after you graduate?" she asked you again.

"A writer, maybe?"

At that, Sukuna started telling them about your date at the fancy restaurant and how you pretty much nailed the story of the lone old woman who gave you wine. "She's amazing like that," he said fondly, absently patting you on your thigh.

"I'm sure Y/N here finds you impressive, too," Toji teased. "Right, Y/N?"

"Yeah, he smells awfully great it's making my thoughts incoherent," you sallied, "But jokes aside..." You let your voice trail off on purpose, gauging his reaction.

"What?" he prompted.

"That's for me to know," you finally stated, making the couple laugh.

"No fair!"

After lunch, you helped Mirai clean up. Megumi was asleep in his crib after his meal and the guys stood by the backdoor, enjoying some beer. You dried the plates quietly while she washed and told you about Toji.

"It's like raising two kids, really," she told you. "He doesn't pick up after himself and our Megumi is more considerate than he is."

"But you love him," you teased.

"With all that I am." Her eyes strayed to Sukuna then. "Cherish him. Don't let that one get away."

At her words, you felt the same hurt you did when you first learned what the real deal was with them from Maki. You blood boiled out of the blue as thoughts started racing in your head a hundred miles per second. How dare she say that to you when she herself let him go? How dare she hurt him like that and yet keep him as a friend?

The sound of something breaking brought you out of your trance, and you realized the plate you were wiping had fallen onto the floor. But your attention was on her, your steely eyes hard and intense as you said, "You're the last person I expect to be telling me such things."

"I..."

You stepped away from her only to be met by Sukuna's disappointed expression, but you ignored that as well as you turned away. "Excuse me,” you said, bowing slightly as you walked out of the kitchen and into the living room, grabbing your bag before walking out of the house.

The crisp autumn air blew coldly against you, ruffling your hair and your dress as you stood there, not really knowing where to go or what to do. Suddenly, you felt stupid for saying something like that to Mirai when she had been nothing but nice towards you, her and Toji. You also liked their son. And judging by how Sukuna looked at you, you had this niggling feeling that you've ruined it all, eating at you from the inside out.

Just then, the door opened and closed behind you. You didn't have to turn around to know it was Sukuna who followed you out. You've grown so accustomed to his presence that at times, he only had to look at you and you already understand what he wants to convey.

"Y/N, sweetheart, what's going on?" he asked, trying hard to keep the edge off his tone.

You didn't turn to face him, afraid of what you will see. "You heard what I said. Do I really have to explain?"

He walked around you, grabbing you by the shoulders, shaking you slightly. "I thought we're over this. I thought I already explained this to you."

That doesn't cut it, you thought but opted not to say it. He might have told you that he has forgiven and forgotten, and although you weren't involved in it, you still felt displeasure whenever you remembered it. It wasn't as if Mirai and Toji did you wrong, and it wasn't as if you had the right to say shit but she didn't have the right to tell you anything either knowing to herself what she had done. You didn't want to hear anything from her about what you ought to do and decide where Sukuna was concerned. It just didn't sit right with you.

"I know. I'm wrong. I get it," you snapped, shrugging his hands off you. "I wanna go home." You started walking away from him, but you stopped when he said, "What is wrong with you?"

You turned back, breath snagging as you let out a mirthless chuckle. "What is wrong with me?" you repeated, your voice coming out soft but with a bitter edge to it. "I know I am wrong for blurting out the things I did, and I am sorry."

"Y/N –"

"But don't strip me of my right to be angry when Mirai tells me to cherish you and not let you go as if she has any right to do it," you cut him off. "I didn't have the right to call her out on her transgressions to you, but don't tell me I can't cry or be mad at the fact that you had to go through all that because I care too damn much for you!"

Your eyes started to fill with tears as you regarded him, seeing the world come alive with blossoms dancing in the wind while in reality, the world was at its last legs, leaves falling all around you. Whenever you looked at him, you felt like everything was flourishing, filling your existence with beautiful things in an abundance of colors. "I'm so in love with you that I can't bear the thought of you getting hurt. I hate it when I know you're tired but you still smile for me anyway. I hate it when you look disappointed whenever I hesitate and couldn't make up my mind."

"I'm sorry for reacting the way I did. I was being a jerk, but that's how much I love you. I love you, Sukuna, more than I can possibly tell you. I can't pretend I don't."

"Say that again," he murmured.

"What?" you demanded gruffly, too caught up in your emotions to comprehend.

"You said you love me. Say it again." Now he looked like he was about to cry, eyes glistening even as he smiled wide with joy, drawing nearer and taking your hand in his.

You sighed in relief, feeling your chest loosen up. It felt great saying it out loud. Beyond just great. "I love you."

The moment you let go of the words, you were wrapped up in his warmth, his arms tight around you while you listened to the thundering beats of his heart. He held you at arm's length, looked deep into your eyes as he cupped your face and leaned in to claim your lips in a brief kiss. Spring has come in the middle of autumn, filling your senses and making you feel like you could fly. He held you in place, eyes closed as he touched his forehead to yours, letting out a shaky laugh.

"Do you mean that?" He opened his eyes slowly and you were lost in their depths as you nodded. "Yes."

"You haven't asked, but I happen to be just as in love with you if not more."

"I already knew that. How can I not when you show me every day? It's comforting to hear you say it out loud though." You smirked at him. "You know, when you don't think I'm asleep."

He stiffened against you. "You heard that?"

"God, it was so hard to keep my eyes closed and stop myself from reacting when you told me you're in love with me."

He clucked his tongue. "You waited this long to respond to me?"

"I told you I didn't wanna give it to you half-assed. I’m giving you my heart just as I want yours, and if you’re ready to entrust it wholly to me, I can’t just reciprocate with pieces of mine."

“You had it since the first day we met. I didn’t have to see everything else to know you’re the one who owns it.” Sukuna kissed you on the forehead, hugging you to him and just standing there with you, watching cars pass by the road, reveling in his proximity and his warmth. You didn’t need much of anything if you had him.

But then you broke out of his hold, realizing the mess you’ve made.

"What is it?"

"I have to apologize to our hosts. Stay here," you stated, walking back to the house to find the couple in the living room, standing there as if they were expecting you to come back. Without hesitation, you bowed before them. "I sincerely apologize for what I said. I should not have said that to you, Mirai. And it isn't my intention to indirectly hurt you, too, Toji. I'm sorry."

"What is this girl saying?" you heard Mirai say as she approached you and hugged you tight. "You silly girl. We deserve that and we don't deserve Sukuna. Everyone just gave us a free pass, and we were glad you were brave enough to say it to us like that. You have nothing to apologize for."

"Still..."

Toji shook his head. "No, Y/N. Thank you. For loving Sukuna and for giving us the chance to finally forgive ourselves, too."

At that, you smiled, nodding in understanding.

When it was time to leave, Megumi woke up and you had the chance to say goodbye to him, too, holding onto him until you had to get out the door.

"Visit us anytime, Y/N," Mirai said, winking. "Sukuna doesn't have to be with you."

"So, you're throwing me away cause you have Y/N now? Some friends you are," he sniped, causing another round of easy laughter.

"I'll come by soon," you promised, pecking Megumi on the cheek. "See you, angel."

***

"So, you're officially together now?" Suguru asked, helping you pack for the trip to the mountains Sukuna had planned, scheduled immediately after his return.

"Two weeks ago, but he had to go to London," you said, and in the next second, Ieiri and Satoru both brought out their wallets, handing bills to Suguru.

"I knew there was something different when he drove you home that afternoon."

"I can't believe you three are betting over my relationship with Sukuna," you muttered, zipping up your small luggage.

Suguru won fair and square though. He had been right to ask from the start when he walked in on you and Sukuna making out on the porch when the latter dropped you off. The drive then was quiet but you had the shut the guy up for teasing you about that "one hell of a confession," as he had put it. But he immediately took control, shoving you against the wall beside the door and kissing you stupid.

"What did I say about raising her on my own?" Suguru gloated, slinging an arm over your shoulder much to the annoyance of your supposed two other parents.

Satoru scoffed. "I was the one who did the hardest job of interrogating him the first time he came and brought our little girl dead drunk!"

"Yeah, he said you're intimidating," you told him, chuckling, and he positively glowed until you said, "But he said you apologized afterwards so..."

Suguru and Ieiri laughed hard at him.

"On a more serious note, Sukuna isn't gonna be as lucky the moment you get hurt, Y/N," Satoru stated calmly and the other two nodded in agreement. "Just putting it out there."

You would do the same for them, too, so you also agreed. "And if I'm the one causing him shit?"

"That's on him, too," Suguru said, ruffling your hair. "You're our princess, Y/N. It doesn't matter who's right or wrong when the time comes. You'll probably get an earful from us, too, cause we like the guy, but you will always have us first."

You clucked you tongue. "You're all being dramatic, but thanks. Much appreciated."

"It's the first time you're going steady with anyone. We're just making sure we've covered all the bases," Ieiri stated.

"Yeah, and before we forget..." Satoru took something out from under your bed, handing it to you.

You eagerly looked into the bag, thinking it was a present but you wanted to throw it at his face the moment you found out what it was.

"I got the bigger sizes cause Sukuna looks loaded in that department. Special edition, ultra-thin in – wait for it – mixed berry flavor." He winked. "Wrap it before you tap it."

"Ha ha, Satoru. You're really funny." You motioned to hit him, but laughed with him nonetheless as you rummaged through the bag. "Where the hell did you even get these?"

"Ordered them in from Amsterdam. You're welcome, princess."

"You're fucking weird for handing me rubbers, but thanks, dad." You handed the bag back to him. "You're giving them to Sukuna yourself though."

"Fine!"

And that he did when Sukuna arrived to come pick you up, strictly telling the man to open it in private much to the latter's confusion. Still, he accepted graciously.

"Don't open that thing," you said the moment you were in his car.

"That makes me want to open it now," he said.

You clucked you tongue, and shook your head. "Do that when I'm not looking." You tilted your head to have a better look at him, reaching over to make him face you. You frowned at the dark circles under his eyes. "What have you been doing in London?"

"Not sleeping enough is one of them, and I'm jetlagged." He took your hand in his and started planting butterfly kisses on your fingers. "I missed you."

"I missed you, too." You cupped the side of his face and leaned over, pecking him on the lips. "You're going to sleep the moment we get to our destination."

"But –"

"No buts." You took the key off the ignition. "And I'm driving." You got out of the car, rounding it to the driver's side, opening the door. "Scoot."

Sukuna grinned at you. "Is being bossed around what it entails to be your boyfriend, sweetheart?" he asked, swinging his legs towards the door.

You moved closer, standing between his legs. "And if I say yes? Do you want out?" you asked, flashing him a sultry smile as you drew closer to him, your breaths mingling.

"I can't say I don't like it." He kissed you, deeper than the peck you gave him earlier.

"It's safer if I drive," you spoke against his lips. "Move."

"Just this once," he acceded, moving towards the passenger side while you climbed behind the wheel, gunning the car out of the property. But opposite to his words, he was asleep not an hour into the drive.

You never really realized how long two weeks could be until you had to wait for Sukuna to come back safe and sound. Though your time had been occupied by your studies and every other thing you did, you were always distracted by your phone, waiting for his messages and calls that you had to find yet another distraction in the form of a new video game you've gotten over the mail just two days after he left. But that was just momentary as you finished it in three days of continual gaming. You even went to visit the Fushiguros the weekend prior much to Mirai's delight just to have a semblance of familiarity where Sukuna was involved but it just made you miss him more.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder, indeed. You could just laugh at yourself over the past days, thinking yourself selfish at the thought of not wanting him to go anywhere you couldn't easily reach him. But now that he was back, you are back to normal, and you knew you have to come to terms with accepting that it is a part of his job to be away from you every now and then if things are going to work out for the two of you.

You're whipped, and you know it. You've accepted that. Now, it's just a matter of not allowing yourself to become too dependent on his presence.

Sukuna woke up when you stopped for gas three hours later. Why he had to choose such a far off place to bring you to was beyond you, but you weren't complaining in that you'd go wherever he was, but it was more for the fact that he came straight out of the airport and yet he was traveling again and by car, too.

"You okay?" he asked while you munched on gummy bears, standing against the Jeep as you filled it with gas. "We can switch."

"I go on farther road trips with the boys and Ieiri every time we have the chance. Stop worrying about me."

He whined sleepily, his voice coming out thick, trapping you against the car with his body. "You're crabby today. It doesn't feel like you miss me."

"Oi, I had to order a new game just so I won't send stupid texts telling you to come back home. How dare you doubt that?"

He burst out laughing. "So you were nerding out while I was away?"

"Pretty much. Don't run away when one day, you walk into my room and find a monster holding onto my controller in the middle of pizza boxes and a whole lot of other mess. That's me needing to be brought out of my hole."

"Hey, don't do that when I go away for business trips." He looked seriously worried now. "You should do your normal routine."

"So don't say I didn't miss you because I was nearly that monster nerd I was telling you about." You popped a green gummy bear into his mouth. "And I'm still driving."

The drive continued for another two hours with you reaching the foot of the mountain at the side of the highway where you really had to switch with Sukuna since you didn't know the way.

"You didn't bring me here to murder me, did you?" you quipped, seeing how thick the forest was on the one-lane road going up the mountain. It was such green world that you almost wanted the feeling of being lost

"Probably. You're too bossy today."

"Hey, that's me being nice."

"I won't. I have other things in mind to do with you." He grinned mischievously at you, winking to which you just shook your head.

Soon enough, you reached a small, traditional village which was pretty much turned into a hot spring resort. Sukuna stopped at the largest building in the vicinity, telling you to wait in the car as he disembarked, returning very shortly later with a key dangling on his thumb. The drive continued for another twenty minutes until he parked in front of this old-style house which didn't look old at all, located at a much more secluded area of the resort. He handed you the key, telling you to go ahead while he unloads your stuff.

Yup. There was nothing old about the facilities at all with the south-facing side made entirely of glass that looked over the private hot spring and a view of the mountains beyond that. The kitchen was as modern as it could get, and judging by how Sukuna was carrying bag after bag of things into the fridge, he planned to cook during your entire stay there. You took over the job while he carried your luggage into the house. Poor thing did the shopping before coming to pick you up without telling you.

"Go shower and sleep. I can handle it from here," you told him when he entered the kitchen again, muscular arms crossed over his wide chest, eyeing you appreciatively.

Instead of doing as he was told, he came up to you, standing behind you, hands fastening onto your waist as he drew your hair to one side. He nuzzled your neck, slowly making his way up your jawline where he pressed his lips and lingered there for a bit. You smiled, reaching up with your hand to place it on his cheek.

"You need to rest, my love."

"Say that again," he whispered.

"You need to rest?" You teased, feeling him nip at your ear. "My love?"

"You keep annoying me today."

"You keep commenting about how I'm behaving today," you countered, facing him. "Come on, let me boss you around for now. You really need to get some shuteye."

"You'll let me boss you around later then?"

"Deal."

***

"Back already?"

You looked over your shoulder as you combed through your hair when you heard the sliding door open. A smile graced your lips seeing as how Sukuna looked better, more well-rested and more like himself after a long sleep, only coming to at nightfall. He took a dip in the hot spring after dinner and was returning from it.

He came in wearing that dark blue yukata provided by the resort, feeling your face grow hot when you realized you were ogling him yet again. How can you not when the garment hung loosely over his shoulder. He didn't bother tying it properly, and from the partition of the robe, you can see the broad expanse of his chest, the smattering of inked patterns following the sinews of his form.

It wasn't the first time you were seeing his tattoos, the artistic floral and tribal patterns making themselves known to you that day you woke up to him naked from the waist up. However, you did not realize they expanded all the way down the right side of his body, all the way down to the outer area of his thighs. Since he was just wearing a pair of boxers underneath the yukata, when he stepped forward, you were able to see it, and as curiosity won over you, you didn't look away even when he raised a brow at you, the ghost of amusement playing at the corners of his mouth.

You stood up, walking slowly towards him, stopping when you were less than a foot away. Your eyes shifted hesitantly between his face and that area of his anatomy silently asking for his permission to see more of it but your hands refused to move midway.

"What is it?" he asked, not exactly sure as to what you were trying to do.

Biting your lower lip. "M-may I..." You couldn't say it out loud so you pointed at his tattoos, feeling a lump forming on your throat when you realized how bold you were being.

"You don't have to ask," Sukuna whispered, taking your hand and placing it on his chest, warm and alive underneath your palm, while he drew his robe apart, eyes intent on you as you followed the expanse of skin that served as a canvass to the artfully-made representation of the four seasons in a single branch of a cherry blossom tree, meandering downwards. From his chest going down the length of his side, your hand traced over the colored patterns of smaller branches that progressed from summer to winter. Your fingers lingered over his iliac crest where new buds of the familiar pink blossoms that promised spring were immortalized on his skin.

Sukuna's breathing had deepened the moment your hand reached lower, and you relished the fact that you had that effect on him, too. You could feel heat behind your eyes as your blood rushed up to your head at the realization that you could do that to him, and even greater than that, the reality of just how much you wanted this man in front of you, how much you wanted to make him yours in every sense of the word and how much you wanted to be his and his alone.

In the dim light of the moon that was filtered by the mist rising from the springs through the open sliding doors, you looked up at Sukuna, the man you love with every single fiber of your being, leaning your head on his chest, listening to his beating heart that mirrored the thrumming in your chest.

You brushed your lips onto his bare skin, trailing kisses across his chest before looking up at him and letting yourself be devoured by those deep, hooded eyes as you stepped even closer.

"You're beautiful," you breathed out, pulling him down towards you, tears pooling in your eyes when he finally kissed you, taking your breath away.

Sukuna's large hands roamed your body as he continued to mold your mouth against his, his tongue pushing between your lips which you welcomed with your own, loving his taste, hot and wet and stirring you alive. His hands were warm and nimble as he kneaded the flesh of your hip through the fabric of your kimono, traveling lower to where the garment parted so he can slide his hand underneath. They made their way to your ass, squeezing hard before he slid lower, hooking both of his hands under your thighs. He lifted you up, urgently maneuvering your legs to wrap around his waist.

Neither of you came up for air even as he walked deeper into the room where the bed was, pawing and hungrily devouring each other, what began as a gentle kiss turning into a scorching show of dominance as you both took from each other, not quite getting enough.

"I love you," he rasped, breathless as he nipped at the shell of your ear. "I want all of you."

He then continued kissing you, seizing you at the back of your neck, roughly nibbling on your lips then progressing towards the columns of your throat, spreading the V that formed the collar of your robe. You ran your fingers through his hair, intoxicated by his scent, your toes curling as his hands travelled to outline the sides of your body possessively.

Sukuna then returned to your lips after leaving open-mouthed kisses all over your chest and collar bones, and you kissed him back just as fervently as he pressed you down against his clothed crotch, making you shiver as you felt stirrings at the pit of your stomach. You gasped at the feeling of him poking against your thigh but before you could recover, he entered his hot tongue into your mouth again, gently luring yours to mingle with his. You just let him have his way, not quite believing what was happening as you felt your skin bursting into flames wherever he touched you.

Sukuna lifted you slightly off the bed, putting you down so that you were facing away from him. From behind, he guided you towards the pillows and snaked his hands around your waist, reaching for the sash of your robe and tugging on it. When he was successful, he tossed it somewhere on the floor and reached over your shoulders, slowly feeling for the lapels of the robe, making sure his fingers brushed against your skin, sending jolts of electricity all over your body as he peeled the garment off you in deliberate and calculated slowness, coupled with his mouth following the train down your nape to your shoulders before he pushed you face down on the bed.

"Oh god," you whispered, fighting for air as he gathered your hair to your left shoulder and licked the shell of your ear. "What are you thinking about? You're too stiff. Relax," he said in that deep, sensual voice that turned your legs to jelly.

You grabbed onto the pillow, anticipating what he was gonna do next when you felt his febrile tongue making a trail on your right shoulder, the action morphing into sloppy, wet kisses going down your bare back until you could not feel your robe anywhere near your body anymore. He has already undressed you.

You were on edge and just hyper aware of everything he was doing and every single touch he left on your body made you feel like it was leaving a mark and being absorbed by every cell in your system. It felt good being this close to him, being touched by him and you wouldn’t really mind if he marked you everywhere. You wanted to be his and you wanted the world to know.

His hands travelled everywhere it could touch, pushing you to the edge and making you feel like you were burning slowly, the kind that made every corner of your body tingle with anticipation. What you didn't realize was how tight you were holding the pillow to yourself until he suddenly mentioned it.

"Y/N?"

"Hmm?" Your voice came out at a higher pitch, making you want to smack yourself. This was that you wanted and yet you were being all jittery.

He chuckled softly, stopping his ministrations. "What are you doing?"

At that, you pushed yourself off the bed a bit and turned your head sideways to meet his gaze from over your shoulder. “Sorry, I’m just…”

“Yes?”

“Overwhelmed,” you whispered, chuckling slightly. While it wasn’t your first time, everything felt new with the added sensations that your deep emotions for him were throwing into the mix. “How do you want me?”

He turned you over on your back, chuckling. "For starters, cut out the pillow hugging." He pried the thing off your arms and chucked it against the headboard. Sukuna then hovered over you, pinning your hands on either side of your head then began his assault on your neck going lower and lower until he reached your left breast and started licking and tugging on your nipple, his other hand busy kneading the other.

“You are beautiful,” he said, mouth moving against the swell of your flesh while his other hand took possession of the other hand, tentatively squeezing with his long fingers.

You let out a moan, craving for more but not certain whether you could take it or not with your heart feeling like it was going to burst out of your chest. You wanted him to touch you more and as if he read your mind, he returned to kissing you intensely until you thought you couldn't breathe, well aware of how his other hand was taking off your panties. Your heart was beating erratically in your chest as you anticipated the moment, but halfway down your thighs, he raised himself a bit and laid himself on top of you, burying his face into your hair.

“Are you sure you want this?” he asked cautiously as he raised himself slightly, looking into the depths of your eyes as if he was looking right through you.

Cupping his face, you rose slightly on your elbows, pressing your lips at the corner of his mouth. "A hundred times yes. I'm yours," you said with all the conviction you could muster in your hazy state – love drunk, kiss drunk, Sukuna drunk.

At your response, he latched his lips onto the skin of your neck, kissing lower and lower, passing over your breasts where he lingered, biting and sucking gently. You hissed as you watched him progress downward, his mouth doing all the magic from the valley of your chest down to your stomach, his hand reaching for the garment he had taken off you halfway down your legs, discarding it. The rough pads of his hands brushed over your thighs, pushing them apart as he lowered himself between them.

You let out a sharp cry when he licked a long stripe on your nether lips, his hot tongue swirling over your sensitive nub. He hummed in approval upon tasting you while he teased your folds with two of his digits. Without a warning he simultaneously pushed his fingers into you and sucked on your clit, building a rhythm that had you seeing stars with every thrust, coaxing out whimpers from your slightly parted lips. Your hips bucked towards him when you felt him reaching deep enough to touch your sweet spot again and again.

Sukuna anchored his arms around your thighs, his elbows on the mattress as he held you steady, continuing to lap at you and move his digits inside you as you felt that familiar sensation of coming undone, guiding you through it until you released so hard your juices squirted out despite his fingers still inserted in you, making a right mess of his mouth, chin and hand.

You spasmed against him but he didn't let go, continuing with his ministrations. He removed his fingers from inside you and started eating you out like a starved man, catching all of your essence from your initial orgasm and cajoling you into another one as he shoved his tongue right into you.

Your hand reached down, fingers tangling with his cherry blossom locks, not knowing whether you want to push him or keep him right where he was. He moaned as he felt your walls clenching, the vibrations caused by his voice stimulating you further, and in no time, you were releasing into his mouth again, your high hitting you like a speeding truck, slamming onto you and leaving you a shaking mess.

Your chest heaved up and down as you tried to calm down, chuckling in between each intake of breath when you felt Sukuna planting ephemeral kisses on your feverish skin, working his way up this time, worshipping your body before catching your lips in his where you tasted yourself on him.

"Can I eat you forever?" he asked with a groan. "You taste exquisite, my love."

"Alright," you panted, "But before that..." You looked him in the eye, running your hand down his chiseled abs until you reached the band of his boxers, excitement filling you as you palmed his crotch over the fabric. You snickered when his whole body seized on top of you, but you were just as out of breath feeling how massive and warm he was against your palm. You bit your lip as your hand moved, rubbing him slowly. Sukuna's eyes drooped a little as he drank in the clouded look in your eyes.

Satoru wasn't wrong about the condoms, and it further got proven to you when you pushed Sukuna’s underwear down and he rose up to his knees, finishing the job. You swore your eyes were going to pop out of their sockets when his length was released from its restraints, slapping against his stomach, thick, long and standing proud, its pink tip leaking precum that dripped down, following a prominent vein on its underside. You never wanted to put anything in your mouth as much as you wanted his dick, but the idea of it stretching you and ripping you apart from between your legs was more intriguing.

Sukuna smirked down at you. "Like what you see, sweetheart?"

"That's an understatement." You swallowed hard, taking you herculean effort to look at his face instead. "I don't just wanna look at it though."

He reached over to the nightstand, taking out that familiar bag from Satoru, quickly rummaging through it. "I'd be insulted if that's all you wanna do." He said as he took out a packet, about to rip it but you shook your head, taking it away from him.

He arched a brow at you. "You don't...Are you –"

"Stop asking me if I'm sure. I'm certain as I'll ever be." You smiled at him. "Or maybe I'll change my mind if you keep asking."

Laughing, he bent down, positioning himself between your legs as he took possession of your lips once more. You took a deep breath when you felt his tip nudging between your folds, teasing you while he busied himself with tracing the topography of your body as if committing it to memory.

Watching him now, you wished you've met him earlier in your life, loved him longer than you have at present. If you knew someone like Sukuna would come to care for you as much as he does, even in acts that are mostly governed by sheer instinct and senses, driven by need and lust, you would have combed the earth to find him. He cares so damn much for you that you knew he will find it in him to stop if you just said so even at his own expense.

"Sukuna..." his name spilled from your mouth, wanting him all for yourself, body, heart and soul. "Baby, please..." You were pleading, but for what, you didn't know exactly.

"Yes, my love?" he questioned, a smug grin playing at the corners of his mouth as he watched the mess that you are beneath him. "Tell me what you want."

"You," you whimpered, raising your hip to meet his cock, hard and burning on your skin. "I want you," you breathed out, the delicious torture in your voice coming to a crescendo when he thrust in agonizingly slow, making your wish his command.

He stretched you, gradually, gently as if he was afraid to break you, but your breath hitched for a different reason entirely. His girth left a slight burn as he pushed in, the rapturous feel of him invading your space and being wrapped in your flesh making a heated mess out of you as you grabbed everything you can get a grip on – the sheets, his shoulders, the pillow nearest to you – trying to anchor yourself from the sudden high of knowing he was inside you.

Your eyes watered at the sheer thought of being connected to him so deeply, and you found yourself falling to blissful surrender when he finally bottomed out. You felt him twitch inside you, but instead of moving as he wished, he cupped your face, delicately brushing his fingers over your flushed cheeks. He had that look of disquiet as he examined your expressions.

"You okay?"

You nodded, beaming in your state of stupor. "Please…move."

Sukuna begins to do as he was told, sliding in and out and acquainting you to his rhythm, his intense eyes hooded yet intense as he regarded you, aware of every nuance of your expressions with every single thrust. He started picking up the pace when he felt you wrap your legs around him, hitting you deeper every single time.

Pleasurable groans elicited from Sukuna's lips as he held himself up, driving his hips against yours repeatedly. "You're so tight," he rasped, his snagged breaths hot on your ears. "You feel so good."

"So good," you repeated, completely going out of it when the mere brushing of his rod against your walls drove you over the edge. You clenched tight around him and he let out a groan, eyes rounding when he realized you were close.

"Let go, baby. Cum for me," he said between pants as he pounded onto you unrelentingly.

You spoke broken syllables of his name as you came around him, riding you through your high. Acid white flashes started to flash behind your eyelids, your back arching from the bed as you keened loudly, too enraptured and absorbed in the pleasure that he was giving you.

However, before you could even recover, Sukuna lifted you off the bed, holding you against him so that your breast were rubbing against his taut chest. You wrapped your arms around him, gripping onto his shoulders while you sat astride him on your knees.

"You'll give me one more, won't you, my love?" he said, thrusting up to you whilst he gripped your waist so tight you knew you will have bruises after, making you meet every single push of his thick length.

Both your moans filled the room along with skin hitting skin, the friction between you two kept at bay by the sheen of sweat that covered your bodies. He held onto the back of your neck, roughly kissing you, your tongues dancing the lovers' minuet. Your lungs begged for air, but you were reluctant to be released from Sukuna's wild kisses while he fucked you senseless.

"Fuck," he growled through gritted teeth. "I love you," he whispered repeatedly like a mantra.

You felt him getting harder inside you as he hastened his pace, ramming into you faster and stronger, and in no time, you were screaming out his name as you came undone again with him following shortly after you did, a deep groan falling out of his mouth in a dragged out note when he spilled his seed inside of you, making you feel even fuller, your walls throbbing around his softening length.

Spent, you both fell back on the welcoming softness of the mattress with him still inside you. He landed on top of you, catching his breath while he rested his head on the crook of your neck while you wrapped your arm around him, your fingers carding through his damp locks.

“You’re amazing, Y/N,” he purred in hushed tones once he caught your breath.

Your brows furrowed in perplexity. “I didn’t do anything.”

He shook his head, pulling out and rolling away, his eyes between your thighs, watching as your mixed juices dripped down on the sheets. “I’m not just talking about your body and how you felt. That in itself is amazing, but I’m referring to everything that you are.”

You felt heat creeping up your neck, all the way to your scalp. Abashed, you covered your face with your hands. “Don’t say things like that. You’re making me a shy mess. Geez.”

“Hey, look at me.” He clucked his tongue when you didn’t move, taking your hands off of your face. When you finally did as you were told, he said, “I mean it. Sometimes, I can’t believe you’re real.”

“I should be saying that. You’re so kind to me, and I feel how much you care for me every single time you say or do something. And I’m just selfish, really.”

“No, you’re not?”

“I am, Sukuna. I want you all to myself from that time you first kissed me, but I didn’t really do much to make that happen because I’m also a wimp, so thank you for going the extra mile for me.” You smiled slightly, feeling your eyes fill with tears.

“Stop saying that.”

“But it’s true. You’re always the one putting in the effort.”

“Because I want to.” He suddenly sat up, pulling you by the arm to lift you up when you gasped, feeling a sudden jolt of pain at the base of your back and the joints on your thighs at your sudden movement. “What’s wrong?” he asked, alarmed.

You raised a finger, moving on the mattress on your own while you held onto his arm for support. “Give me a moment.”

Sukuna regarded you with wide eyes. “Did I hurt you?” He sat beside you, wrapping arm around your shoulder and soothingly rubbing your arm. “Are you aching anywhere?”

“A bit, but it’s the good kind.” You smirked at him. “You’re amazing,” you said, imitating his tone earlier when he said you’re beautiful, your eyes traveling to his crotch. “You wrecked me, my love.”

He didn’t know whether to laugh or be upset. “You say the most outrageous things and it doesn’t help that you don’t hold back either.”

“Too shocking?” you offered.

“Scandalous!” he quipped, chuckling and you joined in on the laughter, the merry sound breaking through the stillness. “Can I carry you now?”

“Sure.” You lifted your arms, latching onto his neck, letting him take you to the bathroom.

“Let’s wash up and take a dip.”

You nodded and let him have his way around you, standing on the shower stall with him as he did everything while you just held onto him, your legs still wobbly. He kissed you on the cheek, the action soft and delicate, filling you with happiness. You can’t believe he is real.

“I’m sorry if I hurt you,” he spoke against your skin.

You pulled away from him, placing your hand on either side of his face, and with a triumphant smile, you said, “I’m not. Never will be.”

“I love you.”

“I love you more. Don’t argue.” You pecked him on the lips.

Sukuna beamed at you toothily. “Alright, sweetheart.”

He carried you out of the bath and out of the sliding doors that led to the hot spring, setting you down into the water carefully as if you’d break if he didn’t take caution. The hot water felt glorious on your skin, immediately melting the knots of your muscles as you sat between his legs, both of you submerged chest-deep.

“Damn, that feels good,” you sighed, mollified as you leaned against Sukuna’s broad chest, closing your eyes in bliss. “I can stay here forever.”

“Are you talking about the hot spring?”

“Yes and no,” you said without hesitation. “The water feels nice, but it wouldn’t be complete without you holding me.”

“You’re being sweet now after bossing me around earlier?” He wrapped his arms around you, placing his chin on your shoulder. “We can always come here when we both have free time. And I’ll always hold you like this.”

“I like that.”

“I love you,” he mumbled, nuzzling on the spot below your ear and breathing in deeply. “You smell divine.”

“I know. I smell like you.”

“Thank heavens then cause that’s what seemed to lure you to me,” he kidded.

You just smiled, reaching blindly to place your palm on his cheek, trying to get a semblance of reality although it was already staring you in the face, the emotions and sensations he has making you feel very much real, but you seem to be in a dream state, unable to come to terms with the fact that spring has finally come for you in the person of the man whose arms held you tight and close to his heart.

“Sukuna…”

“Yes, my love?”

“Thanks for existing."

-THE END-

So, I made Megumi's mom's name here "Miriai." I made her an OC because I can't just keep referring to her as "she/her." It's quite confusing. I hope this doesn't bother anyone. I cringed, too, trust me.

Okay, Toji is also OOC here. Haha! I went all the way with conjuring these characteristics and since Sukuna, my love, is super soft here (he has cherry blossom tats XD), why not Toji, too?

Anyway, I would like to say thank you to everyone who read this fic! Stay tuned for more. Love you guys :)

Additional notes are available in the masterlist, particularly on the reasons why I wrote some things the way I did.

Thank you so much for reading. Likes, comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated! Hope you enjoyed it.

PHOTO/IMAGE/GIF/FANART SOURCES FULLY CREDITED TO THE RESPECTIVE OWNERS.

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djarinsbeskar · 4 years

Text

PREQUEL ARC: PART 1 - THE DAGGER

A/N: I come bearing a brainchild. One I love deeply but am unsure of how it will be received! Straight off the bat I had planned for this to be something that satisfied those Din cravings we’ve all been having through a healthy dose of smut on the regular. BUT I wanted some background? Some context?? In my head we’ll have a few interactions i.e. chapters before the events of The Mandalorian and then kick off all guns blazing. Therefore, this pilot chapter is short, slow, and not a lot happens. (I should be in sales obv) but let’s get the ball rolling and see where it takes us!

Pairing: Din Djarin/Fem!Reader

Rating: 18+ (NO Minors)

Warnings: Language, slight detail on wounds and their treatment.

Summary: You encounter Mando suffering one misfortune after another.

AO3 | Stitches Masterlist | Main Masterlist

6ABY, Derelkann, Klatooine.

The first time you met him, he’d been caught with a dagger laced with raquor’daan venom.

You had been locking up the side entrance to the voluntary medical center you spent your time at while on Klatooine when there was a resounding clatter. One of the many piles of discarded junk was toppled by an armored leg; equally armored arms braced by the side of the center while the imposing cut of the figure steadied himself. You could just about hear the labored pants, distorted by the modulator of his helmet; a sound familiar enough to you to know it wasn’t from exertion, but pain. Once you’d determined he wasn’t an immediate threat, weighing the possibilities as quickly as you could, you walked deeper down the alley towards the male. It was dark, the only light coming from the streetlight at the front of the clinic and that which was reflected from the man’s helmet but still you went.

“Are you hurt?” The helmet snapped around to stare at you and you immediately held up your hands, instinct screaming at you that to startle this man would be like cornering a cantankerous reek during mating season: a bad idea.

An even worse idea when you realized that your cornered reek was Mandalorian.

Even though you couldn’t see his eyes through the tinted t-visor, you could feel them on you; watching, calculating, assessing what danger you might pose all in a split second before he pushed himself from the wall with a grunt.

“This is a clinic?” He rasped, your eyes instantly following his left hand as it moved to grip above the dull grey tasset that protected his right hip. Trying to smother the pain with pressure, or stem blood loss. You couldn’t tell with his glove and the dark duraweave in the way.

“Well?” He bit out impatiently, jarring you back from trying to assess him from a safe distance.

“Oh, oh yes, yes this is one of the New Republic’s medical outreach centers in the Outer Rim. Please,” you indicated to the door for him to follow you but instead his visor tipped to the left and right marginally. You frowned; he was trying to avoid being seen. Was he wanted? After six months on Klatooine, you had learned to stop asking questions of your patients, so you said nothing. Neither did he as he walked towards the door you had been in the process of locking.

You kicked back into gear. Even though you had mentally unwound for the evening after a twelve-hour shift, you were quickly able to refocus your mind and sped up to keep pace with the Mandalorian. A task, he would probably hate to know, that wasn’t as difficult as it might have been if he was unharmed. His movements were stiff, and it was obvious that he was trying to force his body to walk fluidly despite the obvious pain it was putting him in.

The side door opened onto the main corridor that encircled a number of examination rooms, operating theatres and wards, all pointing inward so that the same power generator could be used for the entire clinic from where it sat in the center. A common feature of New Republic operations; efficient and cost effective if not always the best option. It explained why it was so dim, despite being an all-hours clinic. If they put the majority of the technological functions of the center to rest at night when it wasn’t busy, there were less fear of it being temperamental during the day. Or Maker forbid, a full power outage.

Opening the door to the closest examination room, you quickly pulled off your jacket and tossed it onto the nearest unused flat surface, pointing to the exam table in the corner, “Sit down before you fall down. A diagnostics droid will be here in---”

“No droids.” He hissed; his helmet once more twisting to glare at you even as he lowered himself heavily to sit on the table.

“No droids? Look, the quickest way---”

“You do it. I don’t want any of those things near me, got it?” His words were slurring slightly, and any argument died on your tongue when you realized trying to argue your case was just going to waste time. He was losing consciousness.

You knew you could treat him without the assistance of droids, it was more for convenience and time. But even still, you had spent four years as a combat medic for the Rebel Alliance on the frontline, you knew a thing or two about getting things done quickly.

“Belt. Tasset. Off. Now.” Was all you said as you got down to business and pulled one of the drawers to the side open. You pulled a pair of gloves on before you flicked the examination light on, the sudden glare hurting your eyes momentarily as you approached the large warrior on your table.

“Don’t make me tell you again.” You warned as you adjusted the settings on the light to focus itself to the optimum location for you to get a better look. The duraweave above his armor was dark, blood no doubt but it looked dry. You could feel your skin humming with the anxiety of not knowing what sort of injury was waiting for you underneath that gloved hand but knew better than to try to remove the armor yourself. You might not be a Siniteen, but you weren’t stupid either, to try remove a Mandalorian’s armor without permission.

You could hear the heavy exhales from him through his nose as he pointedly stared away from you, as if his sheer willpower alone would be enough to deter you from your demands.

“Fine.” You bit out and immediately slapped the hand covering his side, the added pressure making the man grunt and his hand instantly retract from the contact on instinct before growling at you in an unknown tongue.

You tuned him out as you lifted a side of the single tear in the duraweave to reveal an angry and inflamed cauterized laceration, the swelling alone telling you how botched the job was. But it was the faint black veins that were slowly growing from the point of contact that worried you. You’d seen this kind of wound before, on Sriluur. It was commonly used in gang warfare that had engulfed the planet since the fall of the Empire.

“Fucking hell, what idiot cauterizes a poisoned wound?” You muttered to yourself, feeling around the edges of the gash lightly and earning a shaky exhale from your patient.

“Are you calling me an idiot?” The Mandalorian bit out as he turned his helmet to look down at you again, his hands fisted at the side of the table. The jolt of pain had revived him slightly.

“If you’re the one who cauterized it, then yeah. I’m surprised you haven’t already killed yourself accidentally with this level of carelessness.”

You stood before the warrior could respond but you heard his snarl through the modulator as you quickly began grabbing the supplies you’d need.

“I’m not going to tell you this won’t hurt because honestly, it’s going to massively suck. It would have been bad enough if you’d shown up with an open wound infected with raquor’daan poison, but we’re going to have to reopen yours if we want to be able to extract the poison.” You threw a sterilized scalpel into the metal pan that hovered beside you, along with gauze, several saline syringes and bactaspray before you walked back over to him.

The armored warrior said nothing and stared at you, a flash of awareness running through you suddenly; that he could so easily kill you, wounded or not.

The silence stretched for several long seconds before the Mandalorian reached down to unbuckle the utility belt around his waist unhurriedly and dropped it beside him so that it wasn’t in either of your way. It was a blatant challenge when he leaned back on his hands, his visor staying trained on you as you narrowed your gaze; the belt could come off, but the tasset stayed on.

In another situation, the act might have been almost erotic, with his fingers unbuckling the belt deliberately slow as if daring you to speak to the contrary. Silent, yet commanding your undivided attention as he made himself comfortable on the table. But alas, the man in front of you was poisoned and that tended to skew the situation away from sexy.

You arched a single brow, picking up the scalpel as you accepted the proverbial gauntlet thrown to you.

“Buckle up, pal.”

***

You were a demon. Hell spawn sent to torment him in his dying moments, doomed to have no peace before the end.

At least, that’s what Din told himself as you set the wicked sharp blade of the scalpel against his skin. The skill with which you sliced open the recently closed wound before he could even blink was both inspiring and chilling. He didn’t know what he expected a medic on Klatooine to look like, but it certainly wasn’t you. You looked much too soft, too young but the unwavering focus in your gaze as you gently pulled the seams of the wound apart told him of an inner steel.

His inner lamentations over demonic medics and soft eyes distracted him fabulously from the pain of the wound he’d received on Sriluur while picking up a quarry up until the hellion squeezed one side of the wound, making him shout at the blend of white hot agony and surprise at which the pain came.

“Fucking hell!” he growled, shifting under your ruthless touch.

“Stop moving, Mando. The poison needs to be pulled out and since you don’t want droids we’re doing it the old fashioned way.” You didn’t raise your eyes to him, even as he glared daggers at the top of your head, a hiss of pain leaving him again as you pressed along the exposed flesh towards the edge of the wound again, his head spinning at the expelled blood, the crimson laced with inky black.

A moment of relief followed as the medic cleaned the wound with the saline solution before she wiped it down and repeated the process of squeezing the poison out followed by a clean.

“Almost there… hang in there. You’re doing great.” Din rolled his eyes behind his helmet; the generic medical praise made his stomach churn. It was obvious you had slipped into autopilot, rehashing the same comments that made most patients relax while you shifted to try get the opposite edge. This one being significantly more difficult to clean as the piece of armour that he had flatly refused to take off, was making it awkward to move around.

“Son of a druk throwing skrog!” If he wasn’t in pain, he’d have chuckled at the absolute filth coming from your mouth, putting a pirate to shame while you blew a few stray hairs that had fallen from your tie and into your face during your attempts to shift yourself to better clean the wound. As it was, he just leaned his head back and stared at the ceiling, reciting the Creed in his head to distract himself.

He couldn’t decide if you belonged fighting in a shady cantina or leading a triage camp on a battlefield. All he could determine, was that you had a mind that didn’t falter at the lack of technology or use of droids (a rarity these days), you had a mouth that’d make even Paz Vizsla blush and the spine to tell a Mandalorian to remove his armor without the least bit of hesitation. In a word; you were dangerous, and Din never saw the need to experience more danger than he already did, thank you very much.

He tilted his head when he heard you release a breath and sit back on your haunches, running the back of your hand across your forehead, eyes bright as they looked at your work. In what Din could only explain as being delusions brought on by overexposure to raquor’daan venom, a moment of attraction flashed in his mind, kindled when you looked back up at him before he wrangled the feeling away.

Dangerous. Definitely dangerous, he warned himself heatedly.

***

You let out a sigh of relief when the blood from the Mandalorians wound ran clean. It wasn’t a definitive answer to whether you had gotten all the raquor’daan venom out, but it was the majority. At least now you could sleep easy knowing some bactaspray would be able to handle the rest.

You rinsed the wound once more with saline and dried it gently with a clean pad before spraying it generously with the bacta.

“Now then, at least I can say a Mandalorian didn’t die on my watch.” You commented cheerfully, your more easy-going side surfacing now that the immediate danger had been dealt with.

The warrior was silent above you as he watched you peel open a bactapad to cover the wound for extra protection.

“Don’t cauterize it again until you’ve given the bacta at least eight hours with direct contact. That should kill off any of the poison I may have missed and will keep it sterile.” Pushed yourself to your feet, pulling off the stained gloves and throwing them into the pan to be disposed along with all the soiled gauze and pads you had used.

“You’re looking for light pink at the edges.” You told him as you continued to clear up your supplies, “If it’s still angry and swollen at the edges after twenty-four hours you’ll need to return to a medical facility. But I’ll throw in some antibiotics, so you hopefully don’t have to, raquor’daan venom is potent after all. I wouldn’t take any chances if you’re going to say you think it’s overkill.”

You smiled as he lowered his hand, having lifted it to interrupt you, no doubt. You could hear him grumble a bit while he pulled his belt back around his waist, grunting softly as the weight settled on his hip.

“How does it feel?” You probed from the sink, turning your head to look at him as you washed your hands.

“Better.” Was all you got from him but from what you could tell, he was a man of few words anyway.

You nodded and turned back to turn off the tap and started measuring out three days of antibiotics, keeping him in your peripheral as you saw him get to his feet, rolling his shoulders back and turning to look at you.

“Thank you. I appreciate the help.” He rasped awkwardly, obviously not accustomed to actually being helped in these kinds of situations. He fished out a pouch of credits when you approached him to hand him the antibiotics, causing you to frown.

“These medical centers were set up to offer free medical care to those that need it.” You mentioned as you moved out of his way to lean against the table he had been sitting on not five minutes prior.

“I… can only offer you my gratitude then.” He said, nodding to you once more before heading towards the door.

“One more thing Mando.” You called as he opened the door, the beskar helmet turning slightly to indicate he was listening,

“Try not to get yourself killed by accidentally sealing venom into your body again, yeah?”

You laughed at the indignant snort that left the man as he left without a word, his voice trailing back as he walked away,

“If I do, I know where to go.”

And with that, he disappeared back the way he came, no indication that one of the fiercest warriors in the galaxy had even been in your examination room.

He was like a tornado, arriving and disappearing in a flash, the wreckage left behind not immediately obvious but when you would look back in the years to come, you’d laugh at how naïve you had been to think you could assist a Mandalorian and still remain an insignificant player on the grand stage of the galaxy.

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violet-knox · 4 years

Note

Hi, I would like to make a request but first I would want to thank you, regardless of whether my request is accepted, It really makes me so happy how you portrait and write for Severus, it means so much to me, I don't think I can thank you enough but thank you, thank you so much and about my request, if you can I would like to request a young Severus x reader sweet smut story with lots of tender, meaningful touches and words, he deserves so much to be loved and wanted and feel good about him.

Study Break

Pairing: Young!Snape x Female!Reader

Summary: Fed up with Severus studying for your N.E.W.Ts 24/7, you decide to give Severus a well deserved study break.

Warnings: Smut. Lots of smut (Oral sex, vaginal sex, hand job, fingering, humping, implied light dom/sub)

Word Count: 6061

A/N: Oh my anon! Thank you so much for your lovely words!! 😭😭 You are too kind and your ask made me smile every single time I read it from the first day I got it! I will truly miss having it in my draft box, but I’m very honoured to finally have written your request.

I think I’m beginning to get more comfortable with smut. I definitely need more practice but considering the word count of this one shot, I’d say there is definite potential. Hopefully I’ll eventually find the write style for me and we can get to the more.. raunchy stuff 😏😏😏

You watched Severus pick up what had to be the tenth set of books that evening, placing them next to the others on the table in your own little corner of the library with a thump. You sighed and set down your quill, your eyes so strained you weren’t sure if there truly were four towers of books around you or if you were just seeing double. Severus took a seat back beside you and resumed his quest to memorize every spell, every potion and learn everything there was to know about the Wizarding world. That’s at least what you’d convinced yourself that he was doing because no one in the history of time had to have studied for their N.E.W.Ts as intensely as he was currently claiming to do. Day after day, week after week, you’d walk up to find him with a book in his hand barely eating a thing as he made his way to the library. You were beginning to feel more like his overly concerned mother than his girlfriend and that really didn’t sit well with you. You were tired of having to force him to take breaks if only to eat and sleep. His health was important to you and it hurt to see him suffering so much for a grade.

“Sev, I can’t do this anymore,” you told him with a heavy sigh, your fingers rubbing your temple as you closed your eyes to try and regain your sanity. Severus snapped his head towards you, his eyes wide as he studied your posture. His heart beat rapidly, sweat trickling down his forehead as he anticipated your next words. “I think we need a break.”

His heart broke and he felt it fall to the floor, shattered in a million pieces. He’d always feared this day would come; the day you realized you couldn’t handle him anymore, the day you realized you deserved better than him. He could sense the tension, the frustration you felt these past couple of weeks as he buried himself in his studies to distract him from the truth. He’d used it as an excuse to escape this moment and found himself in a downhill spiral of denial and avoidance.

“F-from us?” His throat was so dry, he could hardly find the courage to speak, afraid that when he did, it would truly be over. He wanted to tell you he could do better, that he hadn’t been himself these past few weeks, letting his fear of losing you cloud his judgment, but he couldn’t find the strength to do it knowing you were right to ask for a break.

“From studying!” You lightly pushed his shoulder with a chuckle, a bit taken back by his assumption. Your smile slowly faded as concern returned to your face. Had this been why he’d thrown himself into all these books? Did he want to end things with you?

“I-I know (Y/N). I know I haven’t exactly been the best boyfriend lately and I truly am sorry for that,” he said, taking the second chance the universe had granted him to try and make things right with you. By Merlin’s grace, you hadn’t broken up with him and he knew if he was that scared of losing you, he had to do something to change how he was treating you. “But these exams, they will determine our entire future! They’re important!”

“You’re important Sev! You can’t keep pushing yourself like this,” you argued back, hoping to knock some sense into him and help him let go of whatever was driving him to act this way at least long enough to unwind a bit. “You need to take a break every once in a while.”

You smirked as you moved your hand from your lap to his, slowly sliding up his leg. Severus rose a brow at you, unsure about your advances until he felt you cup him over his trousers. His eyes widened as he jumped out of his skin, quickly grabbing your wrist and pulling your hand off of him, only to be reminded you were a Slytherin for a reason. With your free hand, you slipped two fingers beneath his trousers before he tore you away from him once more.

“What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?!” he asked in a hushed voice, his face burning red, hoping no one was around to see that smirk on your face while he was holding your wrists in the air like he was just about to push you against the bookshelves and claim the entire library as your own personal make out room.

You said nothing as you pressed your lips to his, smiling as you kissed him. Severus jerked back, but you were persistent, keeping yourself interlocked with him as he kissed back and finally began to ease up on the tension he held, slowly letting go of your wrist to lean into your kiss. He turned towards you and held you by the waist as you kissed him, your own hands subtly returning to his body. You did your best to distract him, one hand pulling on his tie as the other fell down to his lap. You could tell he’d lost himself in you as he usually did when he deepened the kiss, giving you the opportunity you needed to cautiously slither your fingers over his bulge. For a brief moment, you thought Severus had finally seen it your way and taken the chance to indulge in the moment when he moaned only to be stripped away from such hope as he broke your kiss and brushed your hand away.

“Severus, relax. No one ever comes to this corner of the library.” You needed him to trust you, to let you help him take a break for once because you weren’t sure how much more strain your relationship could take if he kept pushing you away like this, claiming the exams were more important. “Trust me and just let go.”

Severus found himself enchanted by your words, sweet whispers of lust and devotion, all meant for him and him alone. His eyes softened as his shoulders dropped, letting you place your hands over his arms, your lips trailing soft, sensual kisses along his jawline. He looked over your shoulder and down the only corridor leading to your forbidden corner, his hands holding your waist as you got closer to him. His gut told him to keep watch, worried you’d get caught and banned from the library forever, but his heart, his mind were with you and how good your lips felt against his skin, sucking on his neck, leaving small love marks as your fingers lost themselves in his hair.

His breath thickened, a small whimper escaping his throat as he gave into your seduction. With one hand firmly gripping your waist, the other slid up your side, resting on the side of your breast. You moaned with delight when you felt him accepting the idea of a well deserved break and pulled on his hair just enough to encourage him to continue. Eagerly, he cupped your breast over your uniform, kneading it in his hand as you continued your quest to ease his stress. With your free hand, you slowly slid it down his chest until you’d found the outline of his cock. Severus bucked into your hand as he squeezed your tender breast, feeling a spark ignite within him. He held himself back, suppressing the need to let go as he reminded himself where you both were.

It had been so long since he’d felt like this, free from the stress, from the pressure of school. It had been so long since he’d felt this close to you. Your relationship had never been defined so physically, neither of you relying on the sexual passion between you when it came to the love you had for one another. When you’d started dating, he knew he’d never let your relationship end up that way, partially afraid of his own physical abilities and partially as a reminder of why he fell in love with you in the first place. But he’d forgotten how good it felt to trust you completely, to let himself be yours for just a brief moment. He forgot how unwinding it was to mindlessly lose himself in your caring touches, your soft kisses and tender words.

“You’re so brilliant Sev,” you whispered to him between kisses, loving how he always fell apart at the compliments you’d give him in such heated moments. “You’re the most talented Wizard I know and I’m so proud of the person you are, the achievements you’ll make.”

You spoke like you were predicting the future, knowing all Severus needed was to realize there was someone who truly believed in him. He only ever threw himself into his studies like he did the past few weeks when he was feeling discouraged and abandoned. You’d hoped when you got together that he’d never feel that way again and it was true for the first two years. But it seemed the pressure of graduation and the idea of building a future affected him more than you’d realized and you didn’t notice until he’d buried himself in books and parchment.

You’d made yourself a promise that day you’d finally shared your first kiss, one you intended to keep now until the end of your days; you’d never let Severus feel alone or unappreciated again. And indeed, you’d kept that promise today as you felt him through his trousers, his mind completely off the need to study until he passed out. You could feel his arousal growing as he tightened his hold on you, feeling as much of you as he could until you found him pushing you off him once again.

For a moment, you thought you’d completely failed and was about to grunt in frustration before you saw him quickly packing up his belongings like the library had just been set on fire. You relaxed in your chair as you watched him so eager to pack up. Crossing your legs, you made no notion of leaving, getting his attention as he stopped what he was doing to stare at you.

“We’re going somewhere private,” he stated, throwing his bag over his shoulder as he wordlessly commanded you to pack up your own belongings. A part of you wanted to tease him, to lightly protest and claim you already were in private, but your own need for him had grown sufficiently and you couldn’t wait to unbutton his shirt and watch him pull off his trousers for you.

Pushing yourself to your feet, you gathered your things and let Severus take your hand as he marched out of the library. He looked so focussed as you both made your way after what felt like an endless amount of stairs. Neither of you knew where you were going, all your past adventures usually taking place in the boy’s dorm when no one else was around, but with exams coming up, students were scattered all over Hogwarts, every corner scattered with books and endless rolls of parchment as everyone studied. Finally, you made it to a floor that wasn’t swarming with people, walking down a hallway that became less and less occupied until you began to near the end. Stopping near a tapestry that depicted the attempt of Barnabad the Barmy to teach trolls ballet, you both looked around, trying to decide where to go, Severus making his choice first and pulling you with him as he started walking down the hallway which you knew would only lead to more classrooms.

“No Sev, let’s go this way,” you told him, tugging him back as you pointed to the corner you’d never explored before. Severus however didn’t agree with your decision, pulling you back towards the hallway.

“Are you mad? We’ll be lost for days if we go down there,” he claimed. You smirked, wondering if that was really so bad. It would at the very least give you both some privacy which is what you were currently looking for and if some tragic accident were to occur to his textbooks and they were tossed out the window, perhaps he’d finally take a proper break.

“Wait Sev look!” You pulled him back and stopped to look at the wall where a door had suddenly appeared. Severus looked at you in shock, swearing it wasn’t there a moment ago. He didn’t stop you as you went to turn the knob, opening the door to what looked like a bedroom stripped straight out of the honeymoon suite at a fancy hotel. A large king-sized bed was standing in the middle of the room against the back wall surrounded by a sheer silver curtain. Candles were the only source of light in the room, floating around the ceiling, lower than the ones in the Great Hall.

Without a second though, you ran inside, dragging Severus with you, closing the door once he’d entered. You put down your bag and looked around in awe, absolutely astounded that such a room existed in the castle. It felt surreal, like the room was alive, enchanted in some way to serve you in any way you pleased. Hogwarts was such an amazing place and you’d learned long ago never to take for granted what the castle had to offer, and this was no exception.

You walked over to the bed, shedding your clothing along the way. You dropped your robes and removed your shoes and socks before you pulled back the curtains and took a seat on the bed, smirking at Severus as you removed your tie. You sighed as you got comfortable, staring him down and kneeling on the bed with legs spread wide, slowly undoing the buttons on your shirt.

“(Y/N), don’t you think this is a little too-”

“Nope!” you protested before he could even think to finish that sentence. “Severus this is absolutely perfect and after these past few weeks, we both deserve some time off, just a few hours to relax. A release from all that stress.”

You shrugged off your shirt and tossed it to join the rest of your scattered belongings. Slowly you began to crawl to the edge of the bed, Severus hesitantly dropping his own schoolbag as he walked towards you. Your smile grew as you watched him remove his robes from off his shoulders. He took a seat beside you and began removing his shoes as you snuck up behind him and placed your hands on his shoulders. Slowly, you began to massage him, Severus leaning into you as he closed his eyes, smiling at how caring your touch felt. You watched him with content as he finally seemed at peace, nothing around him to remind him of the burden he’d created for himself, nothing but your love for him to fill the room.

Slowly opening his eyes, he looked up at you, returning your smile before you gently pressed your lips to his. You took your time with this kiss, your lips completely in sync as he lost himself in your soft lips, his hand buried in your hair as yours slowed their motions and wrapped around his waist and shoulder. Without parting, he kept his hold on you as he crawled backwards onto the bed, leaning back and letting himself go as you took control, throwing your legs over him and settling atop his lap. Severus moaned as he dropped his free hand over your leg, slowly slipping it under your skirt.

You finally parted, Severus pushing himself up as you sat, happily smiling at him. Tugging on his tie, you removed it from his neck before you helped him unbutton his shirt, quickly throwing it to the side, looking forward to the struggle of finding your clothing again when it was time to get dressed. Severus pulled you in by your waist as you pushed his hair over his shoulder, grinning with content before you began to pepper him with kisses. You pressed your lips everywhere you could reach as you buried your face between the crock of his neck, one arm thrown over his shoulder, your hand in his hair. Severus pressed you into him as much as he could, merging your bodies together before unclasping your bra, needing to feel as much of you as he could.

Briefly parting from him, you happily relieved yourself of your bra, wasting no time pressing your lips to his, your bare chest against his, hands wrapped around one another so tightly. You grinned against his lips as you shifted in his lap, feeling his hard cock strained against his trousers. He definitely wasn’t thinking about those exams now.

Breaking away, you slide your hand down his chest to feel him through his trousers, Severus leaning back as he let you explore him with a smile. He watched you intently as you moved off him and undid his belt, tugging on his trousers enough to release his shaft from its clothed prison. Your fingers gently wrapped around him, his breath held in anticipation, his heart raging against his chest as you slowly moved up his length only to stop at the head. You locked eyes with him, happily watching his torment as your thumb grazed his slit, smearing precum as you made small, slow circles.

“(Y/N),” he moaned as he bucked his hips in desperation. His voice was caught in his throat, his mind barely able to form a thought as you slowly began to slide your hand down your shaft, your grip on him so loose, taking your time and twisting your wrist along the way. “Please.”

His whispered plea, was a moment you immediately committed to memory, never wanting to forget how easily undone he became from your touch. You were pleased with yourself and your mischievous spur of the moment plan to help him relax, grateful it ended like this with him squirming beneath you for your touch.

“Please what?” you whispered back, keeping your pace steady as you waited for him to make his demands, knowing full well it didn’t matter what they were. You were in control and he was all too aware of that.

“F-faster.” You could tell he was holding back the temptation to try and take mastery over you like he always did, but it was suppressed by his need to let go, something you were rather grateful to see. If this were any other time, you knew he’d tease you back or do anything in his power to keep his pride and hide the fact he’d completely submitted to you. But the stress of the last few weeks had truly gotten to him more than you knew. It was clear to you that at times, he needed someone to take control, to help him steer through life, someone to show him he was loved, that he mattered and was worthy of such a pure thing.

Instead of adhering to his request, you dipped down and pressed your lips to the head of his cock, your tongue very gently licking up precum before you wrapped your lips around him. Severus became a moaning mess as you continued to tease him, taking your time as you sucked on the end of his cock. He bucked his hips in desperation, all his energy focussed on restraining himself, but he couldn’t help his growing need as you slowly stroked him, sucking him so gently.

Satisfied with the groans of frustration he let out, you took him into your mouth as far as you could manage. Severus fell back on the bed with a thump, fisting the bed sheets beneath him as you set a slow even pace, bobbing your head and gliding your tongue on the underside of his shaft. You listened to every sound that came out of his mouth, your panties dampening at how lustful his moans were, how much pleasure was seeped off his tongue from your touches. Increasing your speed, your hand stroking what your mouth couldn’t reach, you heard him coming completely undone, doing his hardest to stay in control, but it had clearly been too long since his last release.

“I-I’m close,” he barely managed to mumble as his cock twitched in your mouth. With a pop, you pulled yourself off him and immediately, he regretted trying to warn you at all. He groaned as you sat up and leaned over him, stroking his hair as he rolled tumbled down off the edge of his climax. You felt bad for denying him his release, knowing he so badly needed it, but you couldn’t let the evening end just yet. You were just getting started and by the end of it, you were sure Severus would thank you.

“What the bloody hell did you do that for?!” he blurted out, his eyes closed shut as he felt every muscle in his body tighten, his heart pounding so hard as he tried to focus on your fingers running through his hair rather than the agony he felt in his groin.

It tore at you to hear him so upset, guilt growing in your chest from the weight of his words. You thought perhaps it was a mistake to pull away, but it was too late now. All you could do was hope to make it up to him and eventually give him the release he so very much deserved. You said nothing, fearing no words could sooth him now. You focussed your attention instead on comforting him as you continued to stroke his hair, your lips finding his jaw as you desperately kissed him. His breath slowed, his muscles relaxing as he felt you pour out your love for him. Staying in that position, you waited until he’d completely eased his hold on you without exchanging another word.

Severus had almost wished he could spend the rest of the night cuddled in your arms, a small whine of protest slipping his tongue when you pushed yourself off of him. He watched you hop off the bed and begin searching the ground of your robes, removing your wand from them before setting it on the bed and smiling at him as you pulled on the waistband of your skirt. He found himself once again enchanted by you as you pulled down your skirt and panties, leaving you completely bare standing in front of him before you stepped forward and reached down to free him of the remaining clothing he had on. He felt that lustful spark reignited itself as you crawled back on the bed and watched you cast a protection spell before seating yourself in his lap, pushing him back to meet the soft cloud like pillows.

He let out a groan of bliss, his hands sliding up and down your legs as he enjoyed the light pressure of your hands over his chest, your eyes burrowing into his. You leaned down and kissed him passionately, your tongue gliding against his bottom lip before you found yourself fighting for dominance, Severus submitting rather quickly as you explored the inside of his mouth. You knew what he was anticipating, and though the guilt from before still lingered, your mission to keep the evening as lengthy as possible remained your top priority. It seemed however, that despite Severus’ willingness to give up control, he was hoping to push your buttons enough to bypass any further teasing and give him what he wanted. As you kissed, you felt his hands exploring your body, one finding itself over your breast, squeezing and tugging while the other lay over your thigh, his thumb pressed to your clit and running circles over your dripping slit.

You moaned into his mouth and felt him smiling in satisfaction, leading you to break the kiss in retaliation, grasping the hand on your thigh as you began rocking yourself over his hard cock. You slid across his length, eliciting a moan from him as his hands immediately went to your hips, pressing into them, urging you to go faster. You held back from giggling as you regained the upper hand, controlling his needs as your pussy rubbed against his cock.

“(Y/N),” he begged in desperation, his eyes shut as he threw his head back, his brows furrowed with frustration. You loved hearing your name spoken in such a needing tone; a tone you knew he’d only speak for you. Planting your hands on either side of his head, you stopped your motion all together, Severus wide eyed as he wouldn’t dare blink and miss a second of this moment, his heart pounding with anticipation for what you would do next.

Slowly slipping one hand down, you grabbed hold of his cock and lined it up to your entrance, slowly sinking down until you were completed seated on him, Severus moaning the whole way down as you held your breath. You both panted as you adjusted to the feeling, your warm dripping wet walls tight around him, his hard length filling you up to the hilt, fitting so perfectly inside you. Without warning, you began to move your hips, grinding yourself on him without pumping his cock, knowing it would drive him mad. Nothing could ever compare to the feeling of Severus filling you up as you rubbed your clit against his pelvis, the slightest movement sending waves of pleasure through you. But the first time you’d done this, Severus had flipped you over in frustration, pounding into you with such force and clearly that same thought crept to the forefront of his mind now as you continued to tease him, leading him to believe you were ready to spend the next ten hours prioritizing your pleasure before you’d consider letting him come. You continued to grind yourself until he couldn’t take it anymore, his grip on you so tight as he groaned in annoyance.

“(Y/N), please,” he moaned for you once more, pleading for you to ride him and send him over the edge. He’d always loved your smile, but in this moment, he could truly see the mischief behind it, and it frustrated him to no end knowing you had complete control over his pleasure and his ability to feel release wash over him.

“Please what Severus? You have to tell me what you want baby,” you said almost innocently, like you had no earthly idea what he could possibly want.

“Please ride me. Let me come.” His voice was barely above a whisper as he made his demands clear. He was rarely ever so direct, his feelings hidden behind a barrier it had taken years for you to break down and you couldn’t lie, it felt good to have him beg for you like this.

“All you had to do was ask,” you whispered with a smile.

Deciding he’d suffered long enough, you removed yourself from him, slamming your hips back down hard and fast. He’d been so good for you tonight, so compliant, even dragging you out of the library for privacy, earning him a well deserved reward. You began to ride him as fast and as hard you could, your breasts bouncing with every thrust, his moans filling the room as you panted from the friction between your legs. You felt the knot in your core tighten, threatening to snap as his cock reached deeper and deeper inside you with every thrust you made.

Severus couldn’t keep his eyes off you, his mind entirely focussed on the pulses of pleasure he felt every time you slammed back down on his cock. His eyes flickered between your breasts and the sight of you taking him so fully. One hand eventually slid back up your body to grip one of your breasts, enjoying the moans you gave when he twisted and teased your nipples. He let out his own groans as his line of sight dropped back down to watch his cock appear and disappear inside you. It didn’t take long for him to feel his release building up, electing to opt out of warning you in fear you’d deny him his much needed orgasm again.

It all happened so fast, Severus stopping his motions as he held your hips still, pressing them down on him, his cock pulsating inside you as he came. You were shocked and more than a little disappointed that your ride had been over so quickly, your own needs still not fulfilled as you watched him groan, his eyes closed, his release lasting longer than you’d seen before.

“Severus!” you shouted, playfully shoving his chest, the frown on your face was the first thing he saw when he opened his eyes. You removed yourself from him and sat back as he planted his elbows behind him, looking up at you. He felt guilt and sadness seep into his chest as his high died down. He’d never felt so good in his life, the release you gave him one he was sure to remember but was it worth it if you were to be upset with him for not following the unspoken rules of the bedroom?

“I-I’m sorry,” he said, almost choking on his words, hoping you felt the sincerity in his apology. He knew it was wrong to have focused on his pleasure, neglecting yours, but in the moment, his cock begging for release, it was all he could think of. Grabbing hold of your thighs, he took you by surprise as he flipped you over, hovering over you as he stared deep into your eyes, apologizing with everything he had. “I can make it up to you.”

“You better,” you whispered, that warm look he gave you melting away any resentment you had towards him. His eyes always carried so much weight with them, reflecting a much older age than the rest of his body and you absolutely loved them. They were always the one thing that helped you decipher is emotions while charming you in times like these, coaxing forgiveness from you. Resistance was always futile, but you tried anyways, tried to remember not to let him off so easy, to make him earn forgiveness. Yet even in this moment, you found yourself completely enchanted by him, knowing if he asked to head back to the library right now, you’d oblige against your own wishes.

You carefully watched him as he slowly leaned down, his lips meeting your chest, planting a kiss between your breasts before circling each one; a kiss placed on every side. You arched your back into his touch, your hands gripping his hair as your head was thrown back, your eyes closed. A cloud of lust enveloped you as he continued his path down, leaving a hand over your breast, very gently squeezing. Severus focused his full attention on you and the sounds you offered him as his lips found your hips, a kiss placed on each of them before he planted a final one right above your clit. You moaned with desire, your hips bucking before he used his free hand to hold you down.

Severus couldn’t help but tease you as you did to him earlier, his tongue barely grazing your swollen clit as he sucked on your skin before slowly moving down. As he began to taste you, he pulled back and gave a light lick from your entrance to the end of your clit, the gasp you gave him exciting him further. Letting go of your breast, he hooked his arms beneath your thighs, lifting you up enough to give him full access as he began to lap up all the juices that had flown out of you, your moans music to his ears. Severus had only eaten you out once before, the pleasure you felt that day something you’d never forgotten, but this felt so different. He was more experienced and determined this time, he was confident as he sucked and licked your clit, his tongue teasing your entrance.

Every lick sent shivers through your body, your core aching for more when his tongue began to prod you. You felt his nose press against you, grinding into your clit as he pressed his tongue inside you. It didn’t feel nearly as fulfilling as his cock, but you loved the feeling he gave you now as he pumped his tongue in and out of you, flicking every which way as he pressed his thumb to you the nub between your folds. He ran circles in sync with his pumps and you couldn’t help but try and grind into him despite his hold on you.

“More,” you moaned desperately, feeling a knot form as he moved his lips back up to suck on your clit. He pressed two fingers to your entrance and easily slipped them in, pumping you hard and fast. You moaned with every push, every lick of his tongue sending waves of pleasure through you, his fingers long enough to reach deep inside you. Hooking them as he pulled back out, you couldn’t help but squirm beneath him, that knot you felt threatening to snap with every move he made.

Burying your fingers deeper into his hair, you gripped him tightly, eliciting moans of his own as he fastened his pace, wanting to feel you cum around his fingers, your juices spilling out of you more and more as he continued to please you. The faster he went, the more you could feel your release building up, bringing you closer to the edge, your nipples so hard, your clit throbbing from the stimulation. It only took a few more pumps to find your release, your insides exploding with pleasure as your walls collapsed around his fingers, his tongue lapping up all your juices. He slowed his pace and helped you ride out your high until your groans of satisfaction turned into soft, satisfied moans. He licked his fingers with a hum of his own, smiling as he crawled back up to you, kissing your lips and letting you taste yourself on his lips before rolling over to lay beside you.

“Have I been forgiven?” He whispered with a smirk as you rolled over to meet his eyes with yours. You smiled in return and let out a soft sigh. Once again you found yourself completely enchanted by the look he gave you, so desperately needing your approval, to know he’d done right by you and repented for his mistake.

“Always,” you whispered back to him as you brought a hand up to brush his hair away from his face. Severus gently captured your hand in his as you brought it down to his cheek, pressing it against his skin as he closed his eyes and enjoyed the afterglow surrounding you both in the magic room made just for you.

“Good,” he mumbled under his breath, unable to bear the thought of disappointing you. He was beyond happy in this moment, your relationship feeling stronger than ever before, thankful you’d pushed him to let off some steam and take a break from studying. He was so beyond lucky to have you, he couldn’t imagine living a day without you and your care for him. “I love you.”

His eyes were so soft when he opened them again, whispering those three little words to you as he gave you the first genuine smile you’d seen from him in a while. You could tell he was content, that he hadn’t regretted running away from his studies with you and wasn’t thinking about leaving any time soon. Silence fell around you as you finally found him at peace with himself, a balance struck between self-care and responsibilities. Of course, you’d always be there for him to help when the scales tipped over, but for now, you took tonight as a win, a step towards your future together.

“I love you too,” you whispered back, letting the room settle as your hand dropped to his chest. You cuddled into his side, his arms wrapped around you with so much love for you. No more doubts lay between you, nothing but trust and love remained in this room that you hoped would only be a template for your future, one where you shared a bed every night and a life every morning.

A/N: I’ve used the room of requirement before in the past for plot convenience and I really need to find new and creative ways to give them privacy 😅

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