#good to see you mocha | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

st4rbwrry · 3 months ago

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𝒟𝒜𝒩𝒢𝐸𝑅𝒪𝒰𝒮𝐿𝒴 𝐼𝒩 𝐿𝒪𝒱𝐸.

꒰ forbidden love with a southern boy sounds fun. a pastor for a father, and living in a small town with god-fearing, gossipy folk was not. ꒱

🫧 𐀔 . . . 16.8k. fem!reader, lowercase intended, farmer!eren + bluecollar!eren, domesticity, established relationship, talks of religion, small mention of abuse and alcoholism, forbidden love, sneaking around, age difference + time skip, lotssss of arguments, oral sex ꒰ f + m ꒱, quiet sex (they try ;3), fingering, spanking, lots of kisses, eren’s rlly affectionate, foreplay, rough sex, size difference, spitting in mouth vv briefly, sub/dom dynamic, lots of dirty talk, multiple orgasms + overstim. minors do not interact. reblogs & comments are greatly appreciated. ♡

꒰ theme songz + mocha’s note ! ꒱ . . . i’ll be by edwin mccain + movie by avenoir. . . i rlly like this plot, didn’t mean for it to be so long srry. but it’s good so ;) very notebook themed.

getting married in secrecy was every family’s worst nightmare. the opportunity to see their creation speak soul-written vows to their lovers and part ways into unity. to laugh and dance together, snap photos, share cuisines and three-tiered intricately crafted fondant cake. helping their daughter pick out a dress, and their son a tux. all of those memories are delicate and forever cherished. to be ridden of that felt cruel. but, what family deserves that when they don’t accept who you're giving your love to? when they find the person you’re marrying selfish, undeserving of your love, and rude? those are the words people used to describe eren, your husband.

the sun beats down upon the quaint southern town of georgia, casting long shadows across the freshly cut lawns and pegasus-painted houses. a gentle breeze rustles the leaves of the ancient oak trees lining the streets, their gnarled branches stretching towards the cloudless sky. in the heart of this idyllic community, nestled between the town square and the bustling main street, stands a modest yet stately residence. this is where you resided years ago with your father, the reverend pastor kain. the house exudes warmth and tradition, its wraparound porch adorned with rocking chairs and potted azaleas. a white picket fence encircles the property, symbolizing the tight-knit neighborhood and the values upheld within these walls.

inside, the air is thick with the scent of pot roast bubbling within the choral blue dutchoven and the soft hum of gospel hymns drifting from the living room in soft symphonies from your sickly mother. diagnosed with kidney failure yet always ensuring the three of you had the warmest days. the cool interior provides a welcome respite from the summer heat. the polished hardwood floors creak beneath your feet, leading you past a formal dining room with a sturdy oak table and matching chairs. family photographs line the mantel above the fireplace, capturing moments of joy and love.

your father's study lies at the end of the hall, the door slightly ajar. through the crack, you catch a glimpse of his desk, cluttered with stacks of paperwork, sermons, and bibles. the faint aroma of pipe tobacco wafts out, mingling with the musty smell of aged books. despite the comforting atmosphere, an undercurrent of tension hangs in the air, a palpable reminder of the forbidden nature of your love and the stern disapproval of your father, the man of god who once guided you with unwavering devotion.

you’ll never forget the intensity of your heart racing as you held eren’s hand within your own and stood before your father proclaiming your love. the look of disappointment on his face with furrowed brows, smile lines deep as he frowned and stared unwavering. the stern posture he’d taken by leaning up in his chair and hearing the nonsense coming from both of you. the bickering between him and eren while he held your hand the entire time, silently telling you he’d protect you while you shut out the aggressive sound of your father’s voice.

your love blossomed in stolen moments, snatched between the cracks of duty and expectation. in the hushed whispers of late-night phone calls, the furtive glances exchanged across crowded rooms, and the fleeting touches that set your skin ablaze with longing. the two of you would meet in secret, hidden away from prying eyes and ignorant tongues. in the shadows of the park, where the crickets sang their serenade and the stars twinkled overhead. or in the cozy confines of his pickup truck, parked along lonely stretches of highway, miles from home.

there, in those intimate spaces, you’d lose yourselves in each other. lips meeting in passionate kisses, hands roaming freely, exploring the curves and contours of your bodies. you’d talk with him for hours, sharing hopes and fears, dreaming of a future where you wouldn’t have to hide your love.

you met on a warm evening on your way to the farmers market, finding him churning butter with broad muscles, naked from his upper body and inked out over his neck and dominant forearm. there’s a slit in his right eyebrow that also held a piercing. slightly wavy brown hair pulled into a bun with baby blue overalls clinging to his skin.

when he locked eyes with you while you pushed a cute green grocery cart, your heart immediately bloomed. those slanted grayish-green eyes with long, brown lashes of his stealing your strength. his movie star smile with a toothpick lodged between his teeth as he finally caught your gaze. the sun shone down on him, casting a golden glow on his tanned skin and ricocheting off the silver dog tag around his neck making him look even more attractive.

the man gave you a wink before returning to his task, a sly smile playing on his lips. his arms flexed as he churned a bit harder, obviously showing off now that he knew he had your full attention. shyly, you pull your eyes away from him and pretend you don’t notice him staring as you inspect the vegetables before you. once he had finished, he wiped his hands off on a cloth and strode over to you, his overalls hanging from his hips now after he popped them free in front of you, sweat clinging to his skin. he stood in front of you, a cocky smile plastered on his face as he crossed his arms over his chest, a few beauty marks littered across his skin.

he waited for a moment before speaking up, his voice low. “you know, you’re not very good at pretending you don’t notice me.” he chuckled as he spoke. “i can see you stealin’ glances at me from the corner of your eye.”

goddamn, you nearly short circuit from hearing his voice. it’s deep and slightly raspy. the smell of him is almost natural and sweet. you caught a whiff of apple. or maybe butter given he’d been working on it for the past three hours.

“and if i was?”

eren’s smirk widened at your snarky response. he took a step closer to you, his body now mere inches away from yours as he looked down at you, tilting his head slightly. “then i’d say you have a thing for hot and sweaty country boys.”

“yuck, that was so corny,” you giggle in his face.

he rubbed his forehead with his palm, feigning disappointment at your response, but he was secretly enjoying the playful banter between the two of you. “mhm, yeah. it was, wasn’t it? sorry, i’m not good with talkin’ to pretty girls.”

you hum. “mhm, i bet you say that to all the girls. it’s a small town, and you’re attractive. i hear lies.”

“y’know, a liar doesn’t usually apologize for his bad pickup lines. unless . . . ” his voice was a low, sultry murmur now, and his eyes held an intensity that made you feel as if he was peering into your soul. the heat from his body felt like it was seeping into your own, and the air around you seemed to crackle with electricity as he spoke. “he means it. and you aren't calling me a liar are you, darlin’?”

the way he looked at you made your heart thump hard in your chest, and the fact that he was so close made it difficult to think straight. there’s no doubt that this man was the most beautiful person you’d ever seen, in real time at least.

“you’re staring awful hard, like what you see?”

“maybe i do.”

“only maybe?”

“i do,” you playfully roll your eyes.

“geez, w’na marry me already,” he jokes, and of course you laugh like a lovesick teen. “i like your laugh, it’s cute. teehee.”

listening to him mocking you made you gasp and lightly hit his arm. “stopp, i don’t sound like that!”

“do so,” he slowly licks his lips, scanning you from head to toe. “i’d like to get to know you, if you don’t mind.”

you nearly choked at the suggestion. me? he wants . . me? no way. “uh, you don’t even know me. didn’t even ask if i had a boyfriend.”

“are you tryin' to say you have a boyfriend?”

“no, i don’t. but, i'm not allowed to.”

a frown briefly tugged at his lips as he heard what you said, the meaning behind your words sinking in. not allowed to? “how come? strict parents? celibacy? . . nun?”

“okay, asshole,” you scoff.

eren throws his hands up in defense. “sorry, just honestly askin’.”

you began to fidget at the thought of telling him about it. what if he ran away because he wanted nothing to deal with it? he notices your reluctance, and almost says something to dismiss the conversation for your sake. “my father’s extremely religious, well known in this town, actually. pastor kain.”

“oh,” eren nods, understanding clearly now. he tried to be as considerate as possible, even though part of him didn’t care. if he wanted you, he’d have you. “so you’re the daughter. funny, me seeing you only now. he’s that strict he don’t let you come out or sum?”

“ ‘the daughter’. why do you say that as if i have some type of rumor about me going around?”

“no, no, it’s nothing too serious. maybe a little insensitive, but . . i’ve just heard people whispering about your family and whatnot. things like your father being up his own ass or you being a . . i’ll dial it down to prude ‘cause i find other shit said derogatory, and i'm sure untrue.”

pursing your lips, you hum at the things being spoken behind your back. it’s not surprising. “thank you for telling me that. i’m sure a lot of people have opinions about me and my family. my dad can be a bit of a hard ass. and i surely wouldn’t call myself a prude. just because my family is religious doesn’t necessarily make me feel the same.”

“you’re not christian?” he asks.

“no, not at all. i mean, i believe in something. i pray, i talk to someone, but i don’t consider them god. personally, i call them my fairy godmother,” you smile sweetly, thinking that sounded kind of silly. “sorry, that must sound childish.”

“it doesn’t, it’s cute,” he chuckles. “i feel the same. agnostic is the term for me. plus, i’m more of a spiritual person. crystals and shit.”

your brows raise. “wow, that’s rare to hear a man say that, at least here. it’s refreshing.”

"why's that? you not from here?"

"nah, me and my mother are from the city. philly. he ended up moving us here after getting the deed to his grandfather's house. we've been here since i was ten."

eren shifts where he stands, removing the hair tie from his hair that cascaded down to his shoulders. tucking a strand behind one of his ears and shoving his hands into his pockets. “so does he have you on lockdown for the summer?”

“pretty much. he’s got me set on studying for college. any other distraction in my path he throws a fit. i usually have free time whenever my mom needs something, like groceries for instance. i have friends and shit, i promise.”

eren rolls his tongue and plants another toothpick in his mouth, chewing on it and watching as you curiously observe. to do the honors, he answers before you ask. “cigarette addiction. tryna cut back.”

“makes sense.”

“how’s about we keep it a secret?"

his tone was firm yet determined as he spoke. he knew it wouldn’t be easy to keep a relationship a secret from the pastor, especially with how overprotective the man was of his daughter. but he was willing to do it, to give you a chance to be happy and not live the way your father demanded. life’s too short, and you’re young and pretty. the thought of sneaking around with you, being your dirty little secret, made his heart thump in excitement. he was never one to play by the rules anyway.

“you mean like . . sneak around?”

“yeah. with your permission, of course.”

for some reason, his intentions felt sexual. maybe he had heard the rumors and wanted to see what you were like and change that. you’re not a virgin, luckily the person who took it moved out of town therefore it remained a secret from everyone. he’s pretty to look at, nice on the eyes, fairly polite, and a flirt. but, you couldn’t put your finger on it. and if this was going to be a waste of your time, you surely didn’t want to risk your father finding out.

so, you decline. “i gotta go, i’m sorry. it was nice meeting you though.”

eren couldn’t help the slight grimace that appeared on his face when you extract your hand to give him a handshake. it felt so formal and . . cold. your dismissive tone and gesture made it seem like you were done, like you were giving up on the possibility of even interacting with him again. he wanted to question you further, but didn’t want to come off as pushy.

“yeah, same to you.”

while flashing a final smile, you push your cart around him to head for the check out counter.

“when can i see you again?!” he shouts across the open market, hands cuffed around his mouth so you hear him loud and clear.

“around!”

eren felt a small ache of disappointment at your vague response, but couldn’t help but smile at the frantic pace you left him at. he knew he’d see you again, he’d make sure of it. two weeks passed and the city’s fair was bustling with the townships' people. one they held every year right before halloween. you’d volunteer to help your mom with her candy apple stand, taking any opportunity not to be stuck home studying.

the county area was picturesque, a perfect example of the serene beauty of rural life. the fields stretched out as far as the eye could see, rolling hills dotted with occasional trees breaking up the endless stretches of greenery. cows and sheep could be seen grazing in the distance, their peaceful presence adding to the tranquility of the setting. the air was clean and crisp, carrying the scent of grass and wildflowers as the sun set into the night. the fair being held was a hive of activity. children running around laughing and excited chatter adding to the general din of the crowds. the smell of food wafted through the air, the scent of funnel cakes and other fried goods mingling with the underlying aroma of hay and dirt. bull rides and horse races occurring.

eren found himself wandering through the fair, his thoughts preoccupied as he looked around. he didn’t really feel like playing games or participating in activities right now, he just wanted to clear his mind. but as he strolled past the laughing crowds of people, he paused, noticing a familiar figure nearby. his heart skipped a beat as he recognized you, and a small jolt of excitement coursed through him. your dressed in dark blue low rise affliction jeans that were flared towards the bottom along with a matching vest top and black western boots. a plain black cowboy hat atop of your head. your hairstyle changed completely the last time he saw you. it’s longer, reaching the middle of your back in soft, curly bora bora braids. you looked beautiful. straight out of a dream. a magazine even.

the wind blows roughly, and from where he stood he could smell the gourmand of your perfume. he stopped only a few feet from you, shoving his hands in his pockets in an attempt to look casual. despite the outward appearance of coolness, his heart was beating fast against his chest, a mixture of anticipation and nervousness coursing through his veins. he hoped you’d be happy to see him again, but he also couldn’t shake the fear that you might reject him. . . again.

you were stationed at a small booth, an array of freshly made candy apples neatly lined up for sale. the aroma of sweet, sticky apples mixed with the sugary coating filled the air. a woman who stood beside you who stole your entire face, or more-like you stole hers, taking orders from customers, dipping each apple into the thick, red coating before handing it over with a smile. as he drew closer to you, he plastered a careless smile on his face, trying to appear nonchalant. he raised a hand in greeting, waving at you casually.

“hey, what a coincidence.”

catching his attention, the glint in your eyes reads more than your face does, discreetly giving flirty while your smile is faint. you’re stunned to see him, in fact. briefly eyeing your mother before speaking. “oh, hi! um. . . didn’t catch your name before.”

“oh, uh. it’s eren. yeager. eren yeager.”

he felt a slight flush of embarrassment as he said his name. he couldn’t believe he’d forgotten to even introduce himself when he’d first met you. he’d been so eager to get to know you, to convince you to give him a chance, that he’d completely forgotten to mention his own name.

“right, how are you?”

“uh, good. yeah, i'm good.”

“are you here with family?”

“nah, i’m here with some friends. they’re wandering off somewhere,” he says. “are you? is your father here?”

“he isn’t, actually. i just volunteered to help my mom out with her stand!”

eren’s smile grew just a fraction bigger at your response. he was silently grateful to whatever divine entity was watching over him for keeping your father from being here. it gave him a chance to talk to you freely.

“is that so? so you’re not being watched over right now?”

“i’m twenty, i don’t need to be watched.”

“point taken,” he purses his lips, eyes trailing over to your mother who was clearly ear-hustling. eren decides to introduce himself. “how you doin’, ma’am. it’s a pleasure meeting you.”

“oh, hello!” your mother smiled back, turning her body fully to take in his sudden attention. she’s just a smaller version of you, same pretty face now slowly wrinkling with time. gray kinky curly hair that grazes her shoulders. she’s dressed in a long navy blue dress painted with yellow daises, a white apron draped around her neck. she smiles at eren’s charming demeanor. “are you a friend of my daughter's?”

he gave a small nod. "yes, that's right.”

you could tell your mother scrutinized him for a moment, taking in his appearance. she could tell he was well-groomed and well-spoken, but she also had a watchful eye for any potential troublemakers. she glanced over at you, noting the way you were watching the interaction between the two of them, and then glanced back at eren.

“well it’s nice to meet you. i don’t believe you gave me your name,” she nodded in acknowledgment, her gaze still appraising him.

“apologies. i’m eren yeager, ma’am.”

she took in his name and the way he presented himself, weighing him silently in her mind. she was clearly being protective, trying to figure out if he was a suitable friend for you or not. you sigh deeply, twirling your fingers anxiously. eren notices.

“ah, so you’re the eren i’ve heard about. the troublemaker.”

“ma. .” you eye her, as if telling her not to start.

he smiled innocently, a small hint of embarrassment coloring his expression. he didn't think he was quite as bad as the rumors might’ve made him out to be, but he also knew that he wasn't exactly the most picture-perfect person.

“troublemaker, huh? didn’t know i was known for that. i can tell you that i'm the sweetest person you’ll know if that eases you.”

“hm,” your mother squints suspiciously, a small giggle, surprising to you at least, coming from her. you blink at her, brows furrowing. does she find him sweet? “aren’t you charming. i hope you stand by your word.”

this was becoming awkward for you. given the way you were raised and the household you grew up in, your mother was always the sweet one. stern when needed, but for the most part she let you be your own person. she still had heavy concerns for the people you chose to surround yourself with. and a man wasn’t exactly something she’d be ecstatic with. but with her sickness, and unknowing of the time she had left, she’d let her guard down to see you happy. if he were to break your heart, it’d only be a lesson you’d have to learn on your own.

you remove your sight off of the pretty boy before you, the stand quieting down from attraction to hold her shoulder endearingly. “mama, would it be okay if i stepped away for a bit? just to talk.”

“just for a bit, alright? and make sure you’re only talking,” she says, throwing eren a warning glare. you groan, titling your head annoyingly.

eren nodded in understanding, silently vowing not to do anything that would give your mother a reason to get between you two. the last thing he needed was a scolding from a protective parent, especially one as dedicated as yours. he already had to potentially worry about your father. he gave your mother a reassuring smile, hoping to ease her worry just a bit. “don’t worry, ma'am. we’re just going to head to the hoedown for a dance.”

you shoot him a look, dancing sounds different from talking. he smirks.

“alright, fine. but you be back before ten, okay? no funny business.”

shaking your head, you give her a peck on the cheek. “promise mama. thank you.”

“mhm hmm.”

she watches eren step aside as you remove your apron, maneuvering around the stand as he elongates his arm with a gentle ‘after you’, the two of you strolling away, but not before you turn to look back, giving her a grateful yet giddy smile. your mother chuckles, waving and smiling back, her heart warming at the sight of eren reaching to hold your hand that you hesitated to take before giving in. she couldn’t help but think this was going to be trouble.

“she seems nice,” eren mutters, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

you can’t help but roll your eyes. “yeah, she’s very sweet. just can be a bit overprotective.”

“it’s good you have parents that care for you like that,” he replied, an almost sad tone in his voice.

"yeah, they. . they're cool," you say, faltering slightly as you try to find the right words. “what about yours?”

you look up at eren, trying to catch his eyes, but he's staring straight ahead, his jaw set and his expression closed off. it’s clear that he doesn't want to dive too deep into it, but you can't help but wonder what could've happened to make him react like this. he clears his throat uncomfortably, protectively holding you close as he guides you through the crowd. it makes your heart jump.

“dad isn’t the best.”

“. . oh.”

the ranch slowly comes into view, the sounds of music thrumming louder as you approach. there’s a large, open space filled with people dressed in their best western attire, a sense of excitement and nervousness overtaking you. eren leads you through to make your way towards the center of the ranch, where the dancing and festivities are already in full swing. the music is lively and upbeat, couples twirling and spinning across the makeshift dance floor. others chugging down drinks at the bar.

“you w’na show me how you move?” there’s a certain look in his eye, something else that you can't quite identify. his confidence is infectious.

the crowds contagious, and it’s clear that everyone is having a great time. but you can’t help but fidget at the thought of dancing with someone you’re extremely attracted to. who smelt like patchouli, dressed in all black with tan, slightly roughed up cowboy boots. who’s smile is as bright as the moon, chocolate long hair making him look like the prettiest prince. it felt like a date. and technically, this would be your very first one. which, now that you’re thinking about it, is probably why your mom looked at you the way she did.

you cower, biting your lip. “um, i . . can’t dance. at least the way they are.”

eren raises his brow at your declaration. “really? hm.”

you swallow when eren’s hand pulls you a little closer by your hip, gently resting there to guide you into position. "don't worry. i’ll lead, and you just follow. it’s not rocket science, right?"

“okay.”

he starts to move, slowly guiding you into a basic step. despite your lack of knowledge, you try your best to keep up with him, your eyes glancing down at your feet every now and then out of fear of tripping. eren notices your hesitation and gives a small laugh. he keeps his arm around your waist, making sure you don't falter.

"relax. you’re doing fine. stop looking at your feet so much. you’re going to fall if you keep it up.”

“sorry,” you giggle, your initial nerves starting to fall off as you let him guide you.

he spins you around gracefully, his hand still firmly holding you in place. you're starting to get the hang of it, your body slowly moving in time to the music. the expression on eren’s face is a mix of amusement and pride; it's clear he's enjoying teaching you to dance. as the music changes to a slightly faster beat, he picks up the pace a bit, twirling you around with practiced ease. his steps are confident, his grip firm yet comfortable. you find yourself actually enjoying the experience, laughing at your own clumsy attempts to keep up with him. his smile widens, his eyes shining with a playful glint as he watches you. amused by your honest attempts of catching up.

the music slows down eventually, and now plays a soft melody that has couples pulling each other closer to slow dance romantically. rolling your lips inward, you beam up at him with a soft chuckle. i’ll be by edwin mccain playing, and it happened to be one of your favorite songs. the moment becomes intimate, and eren makes a move to rest both hands on your lower back to pull you even closer so your chest touches his. the warmth from his body onto yours gives you goosebumps. it gets more romantic when he places your arms on his shoulder, your hands interlocking while his eyes lock onto yours. bodies swaying slowly with the melodious tune.

“don’t know if i told you how pretty you are.”

you can feel a flutter in your chest at the unexpected compliment. you turn your eyes away from him, a small smile playing on your lips as you try and hide your reaction. you can feel the warmth rising in your face, and you have a feeling he notices it too. “and i told you that you say that to all the girls.”

you’re unsure what switched, but his face grows calm, studying your face intently, hugging you closer as if you’d slip away. that makes you alert. “so . . your mother thinks i’m trouble. i’m not sure what you’ve heard about me. we do live in a small town so shit gets around, including rumors. but, what i’m worried about is how you perceive me.”

the tone in his voice catches you off guard, his eyes fixed on yours with an almost vulnerable expression. “um, i haven’t heard anything about you to be honest. i don’t really stick my nose in drama, or the bullshit older folks gossip about. clearly, my mom knows, and i’ve heard something minor about your father. . i just — don’t want things like that to cloud my judgment of you. i’d wanna get to know you from you.”

he swallows, trying to contain his thankfulness. “seriously?”

“yeah, i mean . .” you shrug shyly. “people don’t necessarily have many nice things to say about me or my family apparently. i guess you could say we’re two peas in a pod.”

“outcasts,” eren prys in a small joke.

“complicated, whatever. misconceptions everyone makes when they don’t know shit. if i get to know you, and get what i think we want to get from each other, and it turns out to be great or goes completely to shit? then that’s for me to decide when i’m ready.”

“you’re absolutely right,” he sighs. “i fuckin’ hate this town sometimes. i’m twenty-three ‘n i feel like i'm stuck here. i just wanna run away and start a new life.”

“i feel the same,” you weakly smile, thoughts flashing around in your head. “this doesn’t feel like home anymore. the community is perfect exterior-wise, but deep down everyone’s a little demented. and believe it or not, my life is miserable. my father’s too overbearing, my mom's sick. they have these high expectations of me, like going to college and honoring the family’s name. but, i’m starting to realize it’s not what i want anymore. i’m only doing it to please them. my father legit made me take a year off just to make sure i’m fully prepared for college.”

“has your father always been strict like that?” eren switches with you as more people make way on the floor, facing south now. the star lights hung on the ceiling setting the mood as more love music played.

“since i was a kid, yeah. he’s always had these values he believed we should uphold. ‘keeping’ the families guidance, child’ he would say,” eren watches you chuckle dryly, his jaw clenching. “often times i wonder why my mother married someone like him when she’s the complete opposite. i’m guessing he was different when they were younger. sometimes i think i ruined their love.”

“don’t think that, ꒰♡꒱,” hearing your name come from him made you squeeze his hand tighter, oddly feeling comforted. “whatever problems they have aren’t because of you. they decided to bring you into this world, therefore it’s their job to raise you to be the best you can be. and i think you’re great, and you can think for yourself and do whatever you want with your life.”

“thank you, eren.”

“mhm,” eren searches your face continuously, memorizing every detail of expression. for future notes. “do you think he’s so hard on you because he never got the opportunities you have? or ‘cause, you know, you’re his only girl?” eren asks.

instantly, you nod. “yeah, that’s definitely it. he’s afraid to make a mistake. granted, he’s made a few already. no parent is perfect, but it’d be nice if he’d see me as the adult i am now and not just his baby girl. or perceive me as this sweet little church girl whose only values in life are to please her parents and have awards to hang in the house to boast about when we get visitors.”

“that’s gotta be hard, i’m sorry.”

“it’s okay. i’d also be the first in my family to attend college. i got offered a scholarship to brown, which is why he has me studying till i bleed. figuratively, of course.”

“wow, an ivy league. that’s big.”

“thanks, i’m a genius,” you roll your eyes sarcastically. your hands drop from his neck, entwining your right hand with his left, eren wrapping his arm around your waist as you two dance that way. “your hands are really soft.”

“all that butter i be churnin’,” he cackles. his face grows serious once more, and yet again you’re unable to read him. “listen, so . . i w’na tell you that i really am drawn to you. i like you, ‘n i’d like to get to know you. who knows, maybe one day we can run away together from our lives here, some cliché shit like that.”

“i . . yeah. i really wanna get to know you, too.”

“ooh, you likin’ me?” he flirts.

you can't help but give him a small smile, your cheeks flushing slightly. this lovesick feeling you get around him was something you’d only read about in novels hauled up in your bedroom to escape reality. it felt nice.

"maybe i am. what if i am?"

"i like the sound of that," he replies, his voice a soft murmur just above your ear. "i like it a lot, actually."

you can feel the heat radiating from his body, the closeness making your heartbeat quicken. you try to tell yourself that it's just the dance, just the music, that's making you feel this way, but deep down, you know it's more than that. something about eren, something about the way he's looking at you right now, is stirring up feelings you haven't felt before.

“you know," he says, his voice low and intimate, "would it be too early for me to ask to kiss you?”

and that followed up with more forbidden kisses. the two of you tried to see each other four days out of the week, of course, sunday’s being off limits. you’d run to the market for your mother and spend most of your time at eren’s farm feeding the animals and helping him work. making up an excuse when your mother asked why you took so long. the two of you decided it was best to keep your relationship private from both your mother and father until the time was right. there are nights when you would sneak out when your parents were sleeping to make out in the back of his pickup truck under the stars.

play fighting in the lake, writing each other love letters, running into his arms whenever you saw him while he spun you around and held you tight. every moment spent with him felt like a novel. every kiss feels like a risk, every touch like a secret act of rebellion. living a double life pretending to be just friends. the intimacy of stolen moments you share is like a secret language, a bond forged by the very secrecy that threatens to keep you apart. a month into the relationship, eren surprised you with a date at the same ranch where you shared your first dance. decorating the back of his truck with blankets, pillows, and tons of snacks for a drive-in movie casting on the back of the ranch. he made love to you for the first time that night.

pastor kain and most of the god-fearing parents in this town knew that eren had a reputation for being rowdy and a sweet talker with the girls. he’s not necessarily someone they’d see their daughter for. and eren will admit he’s made some poor decisions in life, but that didn’t make up for who he was deep inside. nobody knew him. they only knew the surface level of what was spoken of him and his family. the yeager's. eren practically runs the farm that’s in his mother’s name, working his ass off every day while his father wastes himself in heavy liquor on the living room couch. he could’ve left a long time ago, but his attachment to his mother and what she built refused to let him pull away.

his father made a few public appearances that tarnished their family name further. altercations with good people in town for giving him dirty looks or speaking with ill intent on his son. a father forever, but a horrible dad through and through. his reputation already ruined eren’s. a lot of people assumed he’d be exactly like his father; a drunk, and an abuser. his mother going without peace in a horrible fight between the two causing her heart attack. eren hates that he can’t let him go, having a few nasty fist fights himself. maybe he’s hoping he’d get better one day and be someone. but that was far from what will happen.

eventually, you and eren sneaking around had to end when word got out about it through your father’s church; an older woman calling you a slut and stating that you’ll be no good dealing with a yeager. it’s clear they were truly disliked in this town full of idiots and sinners themselves. ‘holier than thou, up their asses, pretentious dicks!’ is what eren had to say about it. you and your father had one of the worst arguments of your life. a total scream fest when he found out.

eren sat outside in his truck, anxiously bouncing his leg, eventually exiting to pace around on your porch. you come out with tears streaming down your face, eyes red and puffy. eren falls apart, cooing ‘awe, baby’ before embracing you into a tight hug, his strong arms burying your face into the warmth of his chest.

“he just doesn’t understand. i don’t get why he doesn’t understand,” you choke on your sobs, eren brushing a hand down the back of your head, kissing it after.

“let me talk to him,” eren suggests, and instantly you’re disagreeing, backing away and trembling.

“no, eren. i told you, nothing we can say will get through to him. he’s fuckin’ hopeless!”

“kain, stop it!” your mother’s frantic voice could be heard shouting at your father from inside, glass being thrown out of anger.

the blood flows through eren’s veins viscerally, an intense feeling settling within him, bringing back memories of his own mother. the booming voices of his father and items being tossed, knocked down, or torn. without another word, he’s rushing into your home intending to set things straight. you panic, following his lead, unaware of what he is capable of when angry. you’ve never seen him on that level before. you knew him well enough to know that he wouldn’t put his hands on your parent, and he was respectful to show proper communication.

“eren!” your voice croaks, tailgating him as he approaches your father’s office where the commotion ensues.

“he’s corrupting our child! why can’t you see that?!”

eren stands tall, pulling you behind him protectively as he meets pastor kain’s accusing glare with unwavering determination.

“who told you to step foot into my home, boy?” pastor kain grits, your mother standing idly beside him, pain wretched over her face. your lips begin to tremble, hating seeing her that way. you never wanted this to be the outcome. you just wanted to love this man. why should you be punished for that?

“corrupting her?” eren chooses to ignore his statement and cut to the main issue. “sir, with all due respect, it’s not your decision to say who she can ‘n cannot be with. i have no intent to hurt her, which is exactly what you’re doing right now. we've made choices based on what's best for us, for our future. ‘n while those choices may differ from what you had planned, they are ours to make.”

“and who gave you permission to include yourself into my daughter's plans?” the man snarled, eyeing you as you sob behind eren aggressively. your cries paining eren’s heart. you were too broken to stand up for yourself right now. feeling like you’ve been doing that for your entire existence. it felt safe to have eren handle things for you.

“she did, because she’s an adult and i will marry her whether you give us your blessing or not,” his voice rises, tinged with a hint of defiance. the word marriage drives your father into madness. “i will never apologize for loving your daughter, for wanting to build a life with her. if that makes me a bad decision in your eyes, then so be it. but i refuse to let you dictate the course of our happiness.”

his gaze shifted towards you, his eyes filled with a mixture of sorrow and disappointment. the tension hung heavy in the air, the weight of their disagreement pressing down upon them. yet amidst the conflict, there was an undercurrent of love and concern, a testament to the complex bond that existed between father and daughter. your father holds a hand to his heart as if it’s torn, strolling around his brown desk to take a seat.

“you’re going to let him speak for you, ꒰♡꒱. speak to me like this? there’s no respect for me anymore?”

your sniffles are loud, removing your face from the middle of eren’s broad back to stand your ground, elevating your head and clutching his hand tighter. “i truly don’t know what else i can say to you, daddy. i’m not fond of the life you have planned for me. i will always be your daughter, but i can’t and will not be this little girl you want to have control over. i am an adult, therefore you have to treat me as such. i no longer want to attend college because of my own decision. it was always your dream, not mine. eren had nothing to do with these transitions. i am allowed to love whomever i please.”

the room falls silent as your parents stare at you, your mother placing her hands over her chest with loving despair. she herself has made multiple attempts to try and change her husband's point of view, but nothing surpasses. eren glances at you, eyes shining with adoration and protectiveness.

“it’s not that i won’t let you live your life. it’s that i don’t approve of who you’re trying to give your life to. what can he do for you?”

eren feels a sense of inferiority. “i may not come from wealth, but i am not a man of indolence. your daughter is a remarkable woman who deserves everything she wishes for. she knows her own mind ‘n heart, ‘n she's chosen me. ‘n i love her for that. i’m not belittling your concerns, but i can not, in good conscience, abandon the woman i love’ needs. we may not fit the mold you've envisioned, but i love her and will continue to whether you disapprove or not. i will provide for her, take care of her. she never has to lift a finger while with me.”

pastor kain’s face contorted in anguish, his shoulders slumping as if the weight of the world bore down upon him. he looked at you, then at eren, his eyes searching for some glimmer of understanding, some shred of compromise.

“oh lord, have mercy on us all,” with a heavy sigh, he turned away, his voice barely audible as he spoke. “you’ve made your choice clear, ꒰♡꒱. you’re choosing to leave the only home you've ever known, turnin' your back on the only family you've ever had. and for what? a fleeting romance with a man who can't even provide you with a stable future? someone rowdy with a poor excuse of a father? a flirt who can’t handle his greed for women? you want me to be happy for you? for this? he ain’t good for you, baby girl. and i will stand by that for as long as i breathe.”

that’s when all of you equally realized that no matter what was said, his opinion will remain one sided. admitting defeat as a whole. anything that was said completely flew over his head, and only his view mattered. it’s narcissistic, and bizarre. eren was baffled, in fact.

the waves of pain crash down on you, wishing he would just understand you, and be happy for you. to approve and give his blessings. to tell you that the man you’re in love with is good for you. eren holds you as your body grows weak, almost falling over. it’s clear the effect this had on you, and he fucking hated it.

“i just want you to . . you don’t even k-know him.”

he shook his head, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “i fear for your soul, my dear.”

i fear for your soul. that haunted your dreams like nothing else ever had. it was by far the vilest thing you’d ever heard your father say to you. it made you cry for days on end. breaking your heart over and over again. weakening since the moment you’d packed your suitcase and said goodbye to your mother. you no longer saw your father as family. giving her a heartfelt embrace and kissing your home goodbye. four months later, your mother passed away. regret ached at you for not seeing her as much after you left with eren. you’d seen her only a few times after the horrible fight, spending the day with her as she gave eren an extreme apology as well as her approval. she prayed you’d forgive your father, to give him grace.

the last time you saw your father was at your mother’s funeral. and the look on his face remained the same towards eren; disgust. you still loved your father a great deal, but the respect no longer resides. you’d comfort him, check on him occasionally, but keep your distance to protect your peace. after your mother received a beautiful burial, you continued your future with eren. marrying in secrecy two months later. in the aftermath of loss, the two of you found solace in each other. amidst the grief and chaos, your love became a beacon of hope, a reminder that even in the darkest times, there could still be beauty. so, in a quiet ceremony surrounded by close friends, you vowed to spend the rest of your lives together.

as you exchanged rings and sealed your union with a kiss, the weight of the world seemed to lift from your shoulders. for a moment, nothing else mattered except the love you shared, the future you would build together. a good thing that came out of this was eren’s father getting clean and giving him a letter from his mother he’d kept hidden on his own accord. a title for land she’d purchased just for him to do what he pleased. eren’s father held down the farm while eren decided to build your dream home on the new land. and he stood by his word.

it was hard for eren to forgive his father, but he appreciated that he wanted to be better. it’d never bring his mother back, nor heal the bruises on his heart, but it was something. once he built this home for the two of you, he’d never have to see him again. it seemed like both of you were running away from your father’s. it was scary how somewhat similar your situations were. you became acquainted with his father out of respect, helping with the farm to pass time as eren focused on building the house with his friends. it helped you clear your mind surprisingly, always adoring animals and gardening. it’s something you wanted to do once the house was ready as a hobby.

some days were really hard, grieving not only the death of your mother but the separation from your father. you felt bad for the many nights you cried in eren’s arms about it. luckily he didn’t invalidate your feelings. he constantly reassured you that everything you felt was natural, and he had no problem comforting you on your lowest days. and that if anyone understood the pain of losing a mother, it’d be him. he truly was your angel. who would’ve thought a man you’d met at a market one random day would be the one you’d spend the rest of your life with.

eren spent an entire year and a half building a charming little cottage nestled in a scenic countryside setting out of town, about an hour. it’s a cozy, quaint structure with a warm, homey feeling. the exterior is made of white wood, front adorned by a wrap-around porch, blue shutters, and a few flowers in pots. the windows are large and welcoming, bringing in natural light and a lovely view of the surrounding landscape. he’d built your dream kitchen, tall windows overlooking the garden. a bathroom with a clawfoot tub and double sinks. and a library so you could read and write. he did it all.

you stood beside him, hand resting on the small of his back as you surveyed your new home.

"this is perfect," you whispered, voice filled with emotion as tears well in your eyes. “it’s everything i’ve ever wanted, eren. thank you.”

eren turned to you, his eyes shining with love and pride. he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. the scent of your perfume mingled with the earthy aroma of nature filling his senses with comfort.

“i meant what i said, i'd do anything to make you happy,” he murmured, breath tickling your skin. he tilts your chin up, gaze locking with yours as he brushes a stray curl behind your ear, the tears falling down your brown cheeks. “you’re the most important thing in my life, and now we get to share this space, these memories, everything. together."

‎‎ 𐦍

a storm is raging outside on the day of your anniversary, and it only raises your anxiety for your husband currently working in this weather. you’d set up the dining area to surprise eren, spending hours in the kitchen to perfect the tastiest meal. you’d always be sure to welcome him home with a good meal after hard labor. talks of the storm have been on a loop, playing on the living room tv repeatedly. one of your worst fears was a natural disaster. for it to possibly happen today of all days felt like a big joke.

you’ve been trying to keep your mind off it, praying for eren’s safety while anxiously nibbling at your cross necklace. you’ve tried to contact him a few times, but gotten no response. assuming he was busy, you left it alone, knowing he’d get back to you as soon as he was available. service was probably terrible out there. within the next moment, as you set the oven to three sixty-five and placed the round cake pan in, the sound of the front door swinging open alerts you. you hear that familiar sound of house keys jangling, and your heart nearly combusts at the realization that your husband made it home.

the oven mitts come off, and immediately you’re bolting towards the living room; a sweet scent of roses wafting up from the extreme wind blowing into the house and the bouquet in his hand. “where you at, baby? i’m home!”

his voice calling out to you makes you giggle, echoing through the warm house. a few seconds later, you emerged from the archway, a smile beaming on your pretty face as you ran into his arms, eren chuckling as he caught you and your legs wrapped around his waist. kissing at his face in relief.

“baby, i was so, so nervous. the storms gettin’ worse by the day. i thought you were stuck somewhere. you weren’t answering your phone ‘n i got so scareddd,” you bury your face in the crook of his tatted neck, nearly sobbing as you clutch him tight.

it’s true, the weather was horrible. trees knocking down, power going out, roads blocked. it happened out of the blue. they’re saying a hurricane is a high possibility. why you’re finding out last minute? who fucking knows. unfortunately, he was on the clock today working at the plant, his highlighted yellow vest adorned on his shoulders as he stepped himself out of his dirty timberlands. luckily they were collectively told to head home early for safety reasons.

“oh, darlin’, i’m alright. my body’s intact,” he kisses your cheek. “i told you to stop watchin’ the news. it makes you more sensitive.”

he sets you down slowly, your bare feet hitting the ground while you pout up at him. your curls were tousled as if you'd just rolled out of bed, but you looked beautiful, breath catching in his throat actually. especially dressed up in this dark red two-piece set. cute ruffled shorts and a skimpy bra accentuating your every curve in a way that left little to the imagination. the swell of your ass, hips, and thickness of your thighs that touch swallows the material salaciously. your skin is smooth, always. scented with dewberries and magnolia.

“fuck, baby,” he breathed, voice low and husky as his hand slips down to grip your ass, spanking you hard as you squeak. “i like this on you. you look pretty.”

“thank you, baby,” your eyes sparkle with affection. “i wanted today to be special. i made dinner and all. but the storm had me shittin’ myself.”

“that’s why i gotcha these before the flower shop closed. well, i ordered ‘em ahead of time ‘n miss valerie let me pick ‘em up,” eren hands you the assortment of flowers in his hand, blooming red roses and cream calla lilies swarmed in black wrapping paper. you take them, adoringly jutting out your lower lip more. “happy anniversary, sweetheart.”

“you’re such a sweetie, rennie,” you lay your chin on his chest, leaning into him while looking up at him with puppy eyes. “thank you.”

“mhm hmm,” eren loses focus already, clutching the side of your face before leveling his neck lower to capture your lips in a searing kiss, bottom lip dropping to enclose your mouth with his.

the kiss is slow and filled with passion, eyes shutting in sync as you moan from his taste. he smelt like he’d done hard labor and the musk of his cologne he’d spritzed at six in the morning, but you loved it. every time. your fantasies just get more disgusting as you age. the heavy toolbelt that’s sliding down his hips, the white crewneck, slightly stained with patches of oil almost eating up his muscles, showcasing his tatted right arm and neck. wedding band around his finger as he holds your face to aggressively kiss your smaller frame. he’s forever hot.

the savory aroma of dinner wafted up from the oven, momentarily breaking the spell. with a groan, he reluctantly pulled back, eyes never leaving yours. "i smell food.”

"well, since you've gone through all that trouble, i showed my appreciation properly."

as you drag him towards the dining room, his gaze falls upon the beautifully set table, the flickering candlelight casting a romantic glow across the darkly lit room. confetti littered the surface, a whimsical touch that added to the celebratory atmosphere. a chilled bottle of wine sat in a silver bucket. he watched you slip on your oven mitts to retrieve the food you were keeping warm. eren surveys the spread, the tantalizing aroma of perfectly steamed lobster claws glistened with butter, while the filet mignon looked pink and juicy. his stomach growls with anticipation, only eating the lunch you packed for him earlier in the day containing birria ramen and pork dumplings.

“damn, you always do so well. good job, baby,” he marveled, heart swelling with admiration for your thoughtfulness. his praises making your face heat up. he does it so much you’re not sure if he realizes how it makes you feel. "everything looks so good. let me jus’ shower real quick ‘n we can dig in, yeah?”

“noo,” you protest. eren arches a brow. with a flourish, you poured two glasses, the rich red liquid swirling seductively in the crystal bowls. “love you like this.”

eren cracks a smirk, sucking his teeth in amusement. “you’re so dirty, girl.”

"you like it,” you raise your glass in a silent salute. “come eat. i need you thick.”

“shut it.”

you scream as he hits your ass playfully, sneaking behind you to kiss your cheek while you snort, eren pulling out your chair like a gentleman so you can sit, soon taking his adjacent to you. for the next hour the two of you enjoyed each other's company, laughing in faces, getting tipsy, love bites and sensual touching . . the usual. eren thanked you repeatedly for how good the food was, soothing old-school rnb playing soundly low in the background while he washed the dishes as you spread chocolate icing on the cake you baked. it was a moment of simple domesticity, a glimpse into the everyday life you’d built together. once the last plate was put away, your husband dried his hands and turned to face you, a mischievous grin spreading across his face as he watched you sip your wine while you spread the icing spatula over the cake, humming to the tune.

slowly, he approaches you, coming behind you and planting kisses along your neck, your hand dropping the spatula while your eyes falter shut. his kisses are filthy, his hands groping you to push your ass back onto the outline of his dick now hard in his jeans for a while. he slowly trails a hand up your throat to clutch, pushing you against the counter nearly bending you over fully.

you moan, rubbing your ass back on him as his hands roam over your body, a wine glass in your hand as you close your eyes and rest your head on his shoulder. you reached beside yourself, fingers trailing lightly down his forearm where his hand slips in between your thighs, groaning on your skin as he rocks his erection against the shape of your ass. a delicate gasp falls from you, setting your wine glass down and hooking your arm behind yourself to hold his head in place.

“c’mere,” eren licks his lips, your skin prickling with heat as he guides you closer to him by your abdomen, spreading your thighs further apart to slot his fingers into your ruffled bloomers.

his teeth nip at your earlobe while he grunts and rolls the pads of his rough fingers against your clit, a cute sound emitting from your mouth. your jaw is agape, eren hissing when you tug at his hair the minute he’s sliding his middle fingers into your pussy, stretching you open as his thumb strums your clit, tugging your bloomers down to your knees with the hook of his thumb. instantly, you’re falling apart. moans breaking out in short whimpers and high gasps, grinding into his palm. eren arches over you, free hand palming the countertop which your hand rests over to grab for leverage, wedding bands touching, his breath heavy on your flushed skin.

"there we go, take it baby,” he murmurs, his voice heavy with desire and encouragement. he leans in to capture your lips in a slow, sensual kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth to mingle with yours.

“babyy,” you’re whimpering, his fingers long and entirely deep inside of you. the loud squelch of your pussy fueling him.

eren’s fingers scissor and curl to hit that perfect spot inside you, your moans growing louder, hips rocking to match his rhythm. the dual stimulation of his fingers fucking you while he thumbs at your clit has your body trembling with anticipation, the wine in both of your systems heightening every feeling. the desperate clench around his fingers only increases his efforts, pumping his fingers faster and applying more pressure to your sensitive bud.

the sudden insistent knocking at the door shattered the intimate mood. you froze, heart pounding in your chest as your eyes shot open to glance at him, a mix of annoyance and concern etched on his features as you watch his jaw clench. he wants to ignore it, but the worry on your face tells him not to. he’s groaning.

“the hell could that be?" he muttered under his breath, your mind racing with possibilities. it wasn't uncommon for neighbors to stop by, but during a severe storm? you’d think everyone would be hauled up at home.

groaning yourself, you fix yourself up, scrunching your face from the uncomfortable feeling of wetness sticking between your thighs. wanting to stomp in irritation, you go to grab a soapy towelette as eren’s too busy licking you clean off his fingers while shaking your head and wiping his hand.

“do you think it could be the county police? maybe they’re checking to see if everyone’s safe,” you say, going to search for one of eren’s oversized hoodies to toss over your head and cover your body appropriately.

“could be. i heard a few people’s had their power knocked out. i’m hoping we won’t have to evacuate.”

eren takes a deep breath, steeling himself for whatever interruption awaited. with a reluctant sigh, he strode towards the front door once you were ready. as he unlocked it, he made sure to securely have a tight grip on it since the wind was ridiculous out. the last thing the two of you expected was to see a familiar face awaiting, going into shock as you see your father standing on the other side, his gaze sweeping over eren before settling onto you.

“pastor,” eren greeted him curtly, trying to keep his tone neutral despite the annoyance simmering beneath the surface. he steps aside, letting the man inside so he wouldn’t get knocked over by the raging winds. “come in if you must.”

eren shuts the door, standing tall next to you. he’s confused why he’s here, hoping his visit wasn’t a thinly veiled attempt to criticize his relationship with you once again. then again, it’s been three years since he’s personally seen him. of course you kept him in your life, just extremely briefly. you stand beside eren, feeling his tension and bracing yourself for an uncomfortable confrontation. pastor kain’s presence fills the room with an awkward heaviness, and you can almost sense the disapproval radiating off him in palpable waves.

“daddy, what are you doing here?" you ask softly, worry and curiosity inked in your voice.

as pastor kain stepped further into the house, his eyes roamed the space, taking in the evidence of you and your husband’s shared life together. the cozy living room, adorned with photos of you two, hinted at the love and connection you’d built. the faint scent of the dinner you had not long ago, a reminder of the domestic bliss you’d created.

“i was in the neighborhood and wanted to see my daughter. the storm’s really bad, and i got worried. hopefully i'm not interrupting anything.”

your eyes soften, smiling faintly. "thank you for doing that. i’m glad you stopped by. but you should be home. why were you out in this weather?”

“had to drop cherry off at the vet, she ain’t doing too good,” your father frowned, the mention of the dog he’d gotten a while after your mother passed makes you sympathize.

“oh, i’m sorry to hear that. she gon’ be okay?”

“can’t say for sure. she been havin’ a lot of stomach problems, uh . .” he quickly clears his throat as if to cover up his pain. you weakly smile, rubbing his arm.

“hey, no need to explain. i’m prayin’ she’ll be okay. it’s nice to see you, um . . eren and i were just celebrating our anniversary. would you like to join us for dessert?” you gesture towards the kitchen where a decadent chocolate on chocolate cake sits on the counter.

eren watched pastor kain’s expression closely, gauging his reaction to the invitation. when he hesitated, eren couldn't help but feel a flicker of irritation.

“sure, why not?" pastor kain replied gruffly, his gaze lingering on the cake before meeting eren’s eyes. "but just a slice, i shouldn't impose."

eren bit back a retort, choosing instead to lead the way to the kitchen. he motions for the two of you to take a seat at the dining table while he cuts a generous portion for each of you. it's silent until he comes back.

“here you go, sir,” eren says, handing him a plate with a warm smile.

“ ‘preciate you.”

eren nods formally, leaning against the counter, observing the interaction between you and your father with a mix of curiosity and caution.

“how’ve you been? i know last time i saw you, you were attending therapy. is that going well?” you ask.

“it’s been . . difficult," pastor kain admitted, his voice cracking slightly as he set his fork down. he rubbed the back of his neck, a sign of discomfort or perhaps guilt. "losing your mother was a blow, and then dealing with your decision to . . leave home. .”

he trailed off, gaze drifting to you before returning to meet eren’s eyes. there was a depth of sorrow in his eyes that he hadn't seen before, and for a moment, eren almost felt sorry for the man. the topic of your mother is still hard for you, eren coming over to sit beside you to entwine his fingers with yours to give you comfort.

“i miss her every day," pastor kain continued, his voice barely above a whisper. your heart aches to hear your father's admission, and you reach out instinctively to lay a comforting hand on his. despite your differences, you know the pain of losing your mother is something you share deeply.

"i miss her too, daddy," you say softly, voice thick with emotion. "every single day. but, she would want us all to be happy, and live life to the fullest. she told me so after . . everything.”

the thought of the altercation makes you all shift uncomfortably, hating that night. “we both care about you very much. i know things haven't always been easy between us, but . . i hope we can find a way to mend those bridges."

“that’s another thing i’ve been discussing with my therapist,” he sighs. “we talk about that night often, and somehow it still stirs something . . awful in me. though time has passed, i still don't approve of you disappearing with this man while giving me the short end of the stick with only minimal check-ins."

that makes eren flinch, feeling a sting of defensiveness rise within him. clenching his jaw, he stares intently at your father. just waiting for him to really try it. at this point in time, he gave no fucks about respect. eren knows you can stand up for yourself, but he won’t hesitate to set him straight.

"leaving wasn't easy for me, you know that, as i’ve said before. i loved mom so much, and i didn't want to abandon you. but i also needed to follow my heart and build a life with someone who accepts me for who i am. you’re still upset about us eloping, alright. but that doesn't mean our love is any less real. i mean, of all days, you really chose to do this today?”

“i’m not saying your love isn’t real,” pastor kain said, his tone softening slightly as he realized he was already upsetting you. it’s something he’s trying to work on. he sighed heavily, running a hand through his gray hair. “i just miss my little girl. the one who used to sit on my lap during sermons, who helped me prepare for sunday mornings. you grew up too fast, baby girl. left me behind. for this man i barely know.”

your heart clenches at the raw emotion in your father's voice, and you feel tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, getting irritated by your sensitivity. his words still sting, a painful reminder of the distance that has grown between you over the years. eren doesn’t appreciate the way he’s making you feel, easily getting triggered.

“forgive me for intruding, but i don’t appreciate the disrespect you have towards me or my wife.” eren budges in, his intervention catching you off guard. you face him with wide eyes, silently urging him to tread carefully. while you appreciate his protectiveness, you don't want him to further alienate your father.

"it’s okay, eren," you murmur, placing a calming hand on his chest. he looks at you, his expression unreadable for a moment before crossing his arms over his broad chest.

“no, it’s not okay, ꒰♡꒱,” eren stops you. “i've grown tired of being disrespected 'n judged based on your father's misconceptions of me. you don’t know me because you haven’t tried to get to.”

a challenge simmers in the dark depths of his eyes as he stares at your father. “if you truly care about your daughter's happiness, then you should be supporting her choices, not tryin’ to tear them down with your outdated beliefs.”

“with all do respect, eren, she’s still my daughter.”

“actually, no,” eren jumps back in, his jaw clenching, a hint of steel underlying his words. “this is my wife, and this is our house. if you choose not to respect it then you can kindly see yourself outta that door. i don’t understand your mindset when it comes to knockin’ down your daughter's happiness, nor do i understand holdin’ me accountable for shit i did as a stupid kid.”

“that doesn't change the fact that you stole my daughter from me and married her outside of her faith. it goes against everything I've taught her. and you aren't even a christian, it’s not according to god’s plan."

“where is this even coming from?” you scrunch up your face in disgust, eyes piercing at him. “why are you still being like this after all these years?”

“i’m not tryin’ to cause an argument. i talked to god and realized i should come forward with issues that are bothering me, and find solace. and that’s what i’m doin’.”

“by still hurting me?”

“i’ll say it again,” eren cuts back in. “she’s my wife. put aside your religious beliefs and respect that as a man,” eren scoffs. “we may not have married under oath, but it happened. so deal with it.”

“i would respect you a lot more if you gave my daughter the proper marriage with her family. especially after her mother died. maybe i’d forgive all your other sins. this goes against her family’s unity,” pastor kain snarls.

“dad, enough,” your eyes squeeze tight. he’s ruining your day. “this is getting out of hand now. .”

eren pinches the bridge of his nose, ready to swing at this point. "pastor kain, i understand that my past mistakes have given you a reason to doubt me. but i'm not that same reckless kid anymore, clearly. i've worked hard to build this home for us ‘n keep it. everything i’ve done from the moment i met her to now, has been for her. so here’s what’s gon’ happen. you either start respecting your daughter’s choices and accepting me as part of this family, or you can kindly remove yourself from her life. because i won’t tolerate disrespect towards her, especially not in my home.”

as eren speaks, you instinctively reach out and intertwine your fingers with his, feeling the warmth and solidity of his touch. pastor kain’s expression remains stoic, but you sense a crack in the armor of his rigid beliefs. perhaps, just perhaps, eren’s sincerity and your own steadfastness are beginning to chip away at the walls of resistance.

“and if you can’t accept me, then maybe it’s time for you to reexamine your own faith and values. because the way you’re treating your daughter, i wouldn’t say it’s christian of you at all. so i implore you, for her sake, let go of your preconceived notions.”

the air goes quiet for a while, eren staring at your father blankly while you gather your thoughts and caress his hand. it doesn’t take long for your father to push back his chair, the wood slightly scraping the floor as he rises up.

“i apologize, to both of you. truly,” he swallows, bowing his head. “i’ve made plenty of mistakes i’m not proud of. the biggest one running my daughter away from home. i am trying to do better, i am. my old habits seep out unexpectedly. i think deep down my blessings were always with you two, i just have selfish tendencies. i am deeply sorry, eren.”

eren isn’t sure if this is a facade, or if the man is being genuine. his lips are pressed into a straight line, nodding once but having no more words. he’d accept it, but the matter of if he was willing to change and show proof remained.

“right,” he smiles weakly. “and i'm sorry to you, ꒰♡꒱. i’ve never meant to hurt you, granted i have many times. i will continue to repent for my sins. and i hope one day you can forgive me. i will let you two enjoy the rest of your day, i'm sorry to intrude.”

pastor kain gives one more smile to you both before turning his back away and heading towards the front door. you’re frozen in your spot, your heart telling you to bring him back because it wasn’t safe.

“we can’t let him go,” you turn to eren, anxiousness written all over your face. “eren, it’s really dangerous out there. what if something happens to him?”

eren sighs, leaning in to kiss your forehead before standing to follow behind him. his hand is on the nozzle of the door before eren’s speaking up, clearing his throat to rid the still pent up animosity.

“you can stay the night. i won’t let you travel in that storm.”

pastor kain breathed in. “no, no. it’s completely fine. i’ve already overstayed my wel—”

“i insist,” eren finalizes, blinking slowly. “꒰♡꒱ will lose her shit if you drivin’ in that. you know she’s terrified of storms.”

a few minutes pass and your father sits on the living room couch with eren making conversation, surprisingly. you can tell your father is trying to get to know him, and being respectful. you zone out for the most part, this day feeling long and getting to you. you decide to fix him a plate of leftover food you had and making everyone hot chocolate to ease the stress. it’s getting extremely late now, almost near midnight and your father grows tired.

“we can take the sofa. you head upstairs and get comfortable,” you smile at your father, eren glaring down at you as you hook your arm with his.

eren’s jaw tightens slightly at the suggestion, but he quickly masks his irritation with a polite smile. he knows it's the right thing to offer your father the bed, despite his own desires to share a more intimate space with you. the house was built specifically for both of your comfortability since the two of you had long decided kids weren’t for you, being satisfied without.

"that’s very kind of you, darlin’," eren says, his voice smooth and measured. “i think your father will appreciate that, huh?”

“mhm hmm,” you nod sheepishly. “there are clean towels and washcloths in the closet by the bathroom. we’ll be down here if you need anything.”

“think i’ll manage, baby girl. thank you.”

your father gives you a sweet hug and a delicate forehead kiss before smiling at eren and giving him a handshake. “thank you.”

“no problem.”

eren sighs deeply once he’s fully upstairs, grumbling, ‘gotta take a piss’ before he’s heading to the second bathroom around the hall. you gather extra blankets from the coat closet, cutting off the lights while snuggling into the pillow soft couch watching adult cartoons. it’s been a hell of a day, and you wanted nothing more than to ignore the horrible weather outside and sleep next to your man. the white noise of the staticky television nearly has you drifting off to sleep, that is until thirty minutes later you’re woken up by eren sliding next to you.

as the two of you settle in for the night, eren pulls you close on the cloud white couch, his strong arms enveloping you in a comforting embrace. despite the less-than-ideal circumstances, he whispers softly into your ear, “you alright, sweetheart?”

you can smell the body wash on his skin, his hair pulled back into a bun as he kisses your cheek and hums, bear hugging you. sighing deeply, you nuzzle your face into his neck, trying to block out the raging rain outside that’s stressing you out on top of current events. “i’m okay. today was really a lot. i’m sorry about that.”

eren furrows his brows. “now you know you shouldn’t be apologizing for him. he can’t control himself, n’ that’s not your priority. i meant what i said by protecting you from any n’ everybody that brings you negativity. i’m not with that. he needs to respect you, especially in this house.”

“as well as you,” you bat your lashes up at him, rubbing his chin. “i hate that he talked to you like that. after all this time, i thought he’d change. i knew deep down he still felt some way since he never brings you up when i visit. doesn’t ask me about us . . nothing. i guess it’s a start that he apologized? and made conversation? but to come here saying you w’na check on me, then proceed to disrespect us?”

eren sighs. “unfortunately, you can’t ever fully change a person. i’ll take the apology, but it’s g’na take a lot more than that for me to even consider him a father in law.”

you stare longingly at his face. “i am grateful that you stood your ground and protected us. that’s very attractive.”

eren grins. “you’re my wife, ꒰♡꒱. forever. ima always make sure you come first.”

graciously, you smile, leaning in to give him a chaste kiss on the lips. “thank you, baby. truly. you’ve been the most beautiful, kindest, loving person in my life. i love that you protect me, take care of me, provide and support me. i love you dearly.”

“of course, baby. i love you too,” he replies, smudging his nose against yours. “my sweetheart. you mean everything to me. you saved me.”

“stop,” you frown. “you’re gonna make me cry. yuck.”

eren nudges his knuckles against your chin with a click of his tongue. “cut that. you’re a strong girl.”

you hum, turning your head to look outside the window that faces the garden out back, the rain pouring heavier; clouds completely gray in the midnight. it was terrifying, especially hearing the wind beat against the shutters. you squeeze eren closer to you, your nerves getting to you more, goosebumps on your arms.

“what a helluva anniversary, huh?” eren speaks to distract you, leveling his face over yours to block your view of the outside. you smile at him, knowing he was aware of your fear.

you tsk, rolling your eyes. “man, from this scary ass weather, to my father’s bullshit . . i’m over it.”

“hm, over it? already?”

you pucker your lips questionably. “yeah?”

“it’s not over,” his voice barely becomes a whisper as he leans into you more, lips pressing against yours deeply.

“eren, i really want to, but we can’t. my dad's upstairs,” you giggle, pushing your face away only for him to grab you and pull you closer to his chest, throwing your left leg over his waist.

“i don’t care. fuck me.”

you gasp with a laugh, eyes bulging when you feel his dick hard and heavy on your thigh. “mister yeager, are you naked?”

“had no choice. my drawls upstairs and i ain’t puttin’ the dirty ones back on.”

“only ‘cause you wanna touch my coochie,” you laugh, gasping when his fingers begin tugging at your shorts, ass almost slipping out while the rest of his fingers delicately brush along your clothed clit. “w-wait. what if he hears. that’s g’na be so embarrassing.”

“ain’t he a heavy sleeper?”

“well, yeah, but—”

“guess you’ll have to train yourself to keep quiet,” he smooches your cheek, smacking your ass hard to tease you, and you lose immediately, moaning loud. he chuckles, your thighs parting to welcome him, mouth agape from the warmth his palms bring, igniting your skin. the blood rushes through you as heat encases your face the instant his hand wraps around your throat, bringing your face closer.

"didn’t get to finish touchin’ you earlier,” eren breathes heavily, his nose pressing against your neck as his lips glide to your collarbone. “it pissed me off."

“m-me too,” you whine when his thick tongue aggressively licks at your collarbone, a kiss following suit and continuing all over your neck.

"your pussy felt so good on my fingers," eren's hands massage over your thighs, purposely avoiding where you need him most. fingers swallowing the thickness of your thighs and the plush of your ass, smacking to get another reaction out of you.

"you're teasing," you whimper, rolling your head back while your eyes scroll. “fuck, you know how wet that makes me”.

" ‘fuckin ‘course i do,” his breath hitches again, moving his face to the other side of your neck, your hand gripping his bicep while grinding your hips to inch closer to his fingers. he tastes your skin again, and it’s lewd, and loud. knowing how sensitive you were there, any intimate sound setting you off.

"stop. teasing."

eren’s pulling the blankets back, dragging you to stand up and firmly pressing your backside to his chest, just like the position he had you in earlier. staring down at you, he admires the deep red of the set you wore for him. it complements your brown skin perfectly, drawing attention to the fullness of your breasts and the swell of your hips. your thick, curly hair tumbling down your back in soft waves, framing your heart-shaped face and accentuating your plump, inviting lips. he pulls the bloomers completely off, your painted toes stepping out of them, twitching from any touch he gives you.

“you’re so perfect,” eren whispers, guiding your head back to lie on his chest so you can look up at him, his mouth enclosing around yours to kiss you upside down. his chin holding you still. “you turn me on so bad.”

you bite your lip, looking up at him with hooded eyes as he holds you in place, a strong arm wrapped around you to keep you pinned to his firm chest. the heat of his skin seeps into yours, igniting a fresh spark of desire within you. you can feel his dick pressed against your lower back, evidence of how much he wants you. you shift slightly, grinding yourself subtly back in a silent invitation. your nipples harden under the sheer fabric of the bralette when his hand comes to play with them, straining towards his touch. you part your lips, letting him deepen the kiss as his tongue dances with yours. the taste of you mingles together, a heady aphrodisiac that makes you crave more. you moan softly into his mouth, surrendering yourself completely to the moment and to him.

turning slightly to the side, you detach your lips to spit into your hand, kissing him again as you stroke his dick beside your thigh, his hands embedded into your hips. his dark brows knit, your hand twisting to his liking as he holds your entire face with both hands, groaning low while brushing his lips amongst your own. his teeth go to pull down the strap of your top, latching his mouth onto the skin of your soft tits, jaw widening to suck on the flesh with tenacity.

"can't get over how good this looks on you," eren hums, keeping the other strap on your shoulder for appearance. he spanks your ass again, and you stand up straighter, turning to face him.

“you really like it?” you ask shyly.

his gaze roams over your body with undisguised hunger. “baby, i fuckin’ love it."

it makes your face hotter, slowly twisting in your spot to try to keep your composure. you hated when you felt intimidated by him as if he was some sort of stranger.

“don’t get shy on me now,” he noticed instantly, cupping your chin before kissing you. “show me that bad girl i know.”

a coy smile twitches at your lips, eren urging you to hurry with a hand smoothing onto the top of your head as you lower to your knees. he grips your hair dominantly, forcing you to keep your eyes on his. the sight is undeniably godly. he looks almost worn out, shoulders hunched under the weight of a long day's labor, and the marital instinct inside of you wants to make him feel better. his dark hair is mussed, easily falling from the hair tie wrapped in the follicles. there's a rugged attractiveness to his features; the strong jawline, the piercing gaze, the hint of stubble along his chin, the desire in his eyes. scattered across eren’s right arm and neck is a plethora of dark ink, artistically gothic, straight out of a fantasy novel. none of his tattoos had deep meanings. he liked what he wanted and that was all, using his skin strictly as an artist’s canvas. the only one that meant a lot to him was your name tatted across his wrist.

"tell me to open my mouth."

eren grunts, your sudden lead stirring something within his abdomen. usually, he’s the one telling you what to do. "open your mouth. now."

your lips part, obeying without hesitation. "stick your fingers in."

eren lays two fingers on your soft tongue, slowly stroking until he’s reaching the back of your throat to build up more saliva. you moan in approval, eyes watering but still maintaining eye contact. eren’s brows are knitted, dick hanging from the weight of it. he’s bending forward, spitting on your tongue and prepping your mouth, groaning gravely. you pull your mouth back from his fingers, salvia dripping down your chin.

“you always do that,” he chuckles, the roughness of it making you squeeze your thighs.

“ ‘cause you’re nasty,” you smirk, rolling your eyes. eren playfully does the same. “take my head and put my mouth where you want it."

“fuck, you’re so good at that,” eren comments, gripping your chin to give you a chaste kiss. “talkin’ so pretty.”

he keeps a firm hold on your scalp, curls tangled within his rough hands as he steadily guides you toward his dick, eyeing you darkly, back slightly bent so he can catch the view of your nose touching his stomach. you make sure to keep your eyes attached to his, dying to watch him submerge into ecstasy. he enjoys the control he has over you. you gag around him, and when he whimpers from the sensation, you can't help but grind in your position, the neediness itching at you. trailing your dominant hand between your thighs, you use two of your fingers to spread your lower lips apart to collect your juices before sinking them into your soaked opening.

"oh my god," he notices instantly, choking on a moan as your nails dug into his thigh, moaning around him. he's breathing heavily, your teary eyes the trigger. pressure builds inside him now. he evokes a low growl, and his pace picks up even more, and so do your fingers. shifting your hips quicker. “i’m so proud of you, mama. you doin’ me so fuckin’ good right now.”

eren loses himself in the raw act of claiming your mouth, each brutal thrust forces a corresponding squelch from your stuffed lips, saliva and precum mingling in a lewd display of submission. you continue sucking, your moans vibrating around his shaft as you fuck yourself open for him, juices flowing freely down your thighs. eren's thrusts become more urgent, his grasp on your hair tightening.

“fuck, baby gimme your throat," he whispers, his hips driving forward aggressively. “take it real deep.”

with a deep thrust, eren hits the back of your throat and holds it there, the pressure building at the base of his dick. your eyes water, tears streaming down your cheeks as you hold your breath, never breaking eye contact, silently urging him on. your eyes roll back, overwhelmed by the sheer size of eren's dick fucking your throat. you gag as he fucks your face steadily with his head tossed back, and through it all, you find yourself getting wetter at the depravity of it all. eren's neediness is arousing, his hips rocking into your mouth with so much lust. you can feel his balls slapping against your chin with each thrust, the sound echoing obscenely in the almost quiet room. the tv luckily drowned out most sounds. suddenly, eren's entire dick pulses and throbs within your throat, hot jets of cum erupting directly onto your tongue. you swallow, like he likes, gulping down every drop as he rides out his orgasm, finally stilling to catch his breath.

“fuck,” he wheezed, hips jerking as he carefully pulls his toned hips back to let you breathe, dick twitching and jumping, still hard and needing more. groaning when you kiss the tip and after, his happy trail. “that felt too good, sweetheart. c’mere.”

eren’s gaze locks onto your face, drinking in the sight of your gratified expression as he picks you up, sitting you on the couch as he lowers his head between your thighs. your knees are hiked up to your chest, your thumb hanging on the corner of your mouth as you stare down at him in bliss. his brain rewires every time he sees her; puffy, warm, and soaking just for him. the anklet you have shimmers as you chew at your thumb and gyrate your hips, waiting for him to touch you with a pleading whine.

he slides two fingers knuckle-deep into your dripping pussy, pumping them carefully as he lowers his face to suckle your clit into his mouth. your quiet moans and cries spur him on, your hand going atop his head to guide him as he eats you out. your hips buck against his face, your body trembling beneath him, back arched and toes curled as he devours you. he's relentless, tongue flattening across your clit as he moves his head to apply pressure, lips kissing and swallowing your clit while his fingers twist and fuck into you. you're panting now, fingers tangled in his hair, tugging him closer while your face screws up in pleasure, hating that you couldn’t scream the way you wanted.

"mmm, look at that pussy, baby. look,” eren’s grabbing the back of your neck to connect your forehead with his, forcing your gaze to look at the way his fingers move inside of you, soft tummy molding. “fuckk, she’s so sweet. clenching too tight. give her t’me. make it easy.”

sobbing, you nod your head against his, covering your mouth to muffle your moans as tears well. he curls his fingers just right, hitting that elusive spot far inside that makes your toes curl. grunting, he lowers his face back, burying it into your cunt feeling the scruff of his facial hair creating delicious friction against your sensitive skin. he’s opening and encasing his lips around your clit in iterations, sucking and licking hard, spanking your outer thigh while slicking his face up and down, your wetness lewdly known.

“ooo, f-fuckk, ba—by, agh!” the pressure builds, coiling tighter in your belly until you can't hold back anymore. you cry out, fisting at his hair and the fabric of the couch as you roll your hips harder on his mouth.

“you’re making such a mess, girl,” he talks against your pussy, swallowing down every drop you give him. spanking you repetitively, the act and vibration causing your thighs to clamp around his ears as your orgasm crashes over you. pleasure rippling through your body, your juices flooding eren's mouth as he laps at you greedily, prolonging your bliss.

the shivers come from every part of you, your legs, your arms, and the breath on your lips. wanting to cry from how good it felt along with the frustration of not being able to scream. eren comes up to kiss you, muttering ‘go ‘head’ to let you scream into his mouth, grunting and moaning altogether from the intensity. your legs unable to stop shaking. he’s giving you open mouth kisses, your sounds stirring something sinister within his dick as you suck on his tongue, tasting yourself and groping at his waist to bring him closer to you.

“atta girl,” he pecks your lips one more time before pulling you to stand again.

eren turns you around, bending you forward as your thighs press tight together, holding your body up by your forearms pulled back. your upper body hangs, tits threatening to spill from your bralette. eren’s hair is long in his face now, positioning his hips so his dick can slide easily into you without the extra support. a low groan rumbles in his throat when his wish is granted, and you take him full. a ring of white shadowing around his dick with your cream, breathlessly whispering ‘yeah, fuck’ under his breath. feeling his dick makes you whine, shifting your ass back, greedy for more. this feeling never gets old.

“fuck, yes. squeeze me just like that,” he rasps, pulling nearly all the way out before snapping his hips forward. you gasp from his roughness, tilting your pelvis to take him fully. the tightness making eren blow a raspberry before throwing his head back. “goddamn, mama.”

“p-please,” you beg, moving your ass back as much as you could, not having much power over strength at the moment. “need it, baby. fuck me.”

there was no need for that since he already had the intention of fucking you numb. shifting hips waist, he's rolling into you with ease, your ass clapping back onto his abdomen as he lets out a disgruntled noise that's loud enough to wake the entire house. you squeak, his thrusts rough and steady, fucking you good while keeping you still. heaving, your body falls back into his weakly, having no control over how he wants to use you. thighs adding pressure onto your clit as you mindlessly bounce back on his dick that's splitting you open.

"b-baby. . . too loud," a small panic drawls out, leveling your head to avoid blood rushing to it. eren scoffs, slowing himself momentarily to bring his face by yours.

“i don’t give a fuck, this my house,” he rasps, trailing open-mouthed kisses along the column of your jawline. “do you want me to make you cum or not?”

he assumed you crying was the answer, responding with ‘mhm’ as a ‘that’s what i thought’. his dick twitches inside of you, eren doing his best to keep his composure, but you make it nearly impossible. he's pistoning in and out, watching you coat his dick sweetly, voice laced with lust as you spasm around him and cum unexpectedly. he groans while listening to your cries that ripple brokenly, pounding depravedly as pleasure courses through both your veins.

“it feel good cummin’ on my dick?”

“yess, ‘ren. c-can’t stop cummin’, baby.”

“gimme some more.”

you bite your lip hard to stifle the scream threatening to spill, fingers curling into fists as you fight to maintain restraint. sweat beads on your brow from the exertion of keeping yourself still and silent under his relentless onslaught. the coil of tension in your core winds tighter and tighter, orgasm just out of reach. just when you think you can't hold back any longer, eren shifts slightly, changing the angle of his thrusts. now, the head of his dick is kissing that sweet spot within you with every mean, intended stroke. a strangled gasp escapes you unbidden as that warm feeling bursts once more, convulsing helplessly in his hold, muscles clenching wildly around his dick as you struggle to muffle your cries behind clenched teeth. your hand pushes at his waist as a signal for some form of relief, moving your body forward.

“where you goin’,” eren’s yanking you back the moment you try to escape, locking your wrists in his one hand, the other gripping your waist to continue fucking you back onto him.

“erenn,” your voice cracks, your vision blurring from the intensity. a hiccup falls, your head hanging low as he grounds his dick all up in you. you hear yourself squelch, his sharp hips interacting with the softness of your ass that recoils back. your hands struggle in his hold, crying at the deadlock. but it felt so, so damn good. “f-fuck you. oh my god, fuck you, baby.”

eren tongues his inner cheek with a snarky chuckle. “that just makes me w’na fuck you harder.”

the stamina he has gives you a headache sometimes, unknowing of when you end up flat on your stomach lying on the sectional part of the sofa. eren notches the head of his dick between your folds to gather more of your slick before sinking back in, sheathing himself entirely, balls flattening on the curve of your ass. the solid warmth of his body blanketing yours, wrapping his bicep around your neck while he grabs onto the armrest before you two, rolling his hips and dropping his dick into you.

“no one’s ever g’na do the shit i do to you,” he sloppily french kisses behind your ear, voice growing weak, panting heavier.

“mhm mm,” you agree without words, breaking out to follow the rhythm of his hips.

“your so pretty. say it. tell me you're my pretty girl.”

tears prick at the corners of your eyes, face flushed, and arousal coiling hot and heavy in your belly, responding greedily to his every action.

"i’m your pretty girl,” you gasp weakly, voice barely audible. your nails dig into the cushion as you writhe helplessly, full with his heavy dick and held immobile by his superior strength. every ruthless drive of his hips forces the air from your lungs, making you feel floaty.

a choked sob escapes him as he sinks everything into you, your fingers clawing frantically at the upholstery. you try to bury your face in the cushions to muffle your noises as he splits you open, each powerful thrust getting a singular sound from you, but eren had other plans. his big hand covers your mouth, continuously french kissing your neck as he grunts by your ear and rambles the filthiest things. your body does what it’s trained to; react. you cry in his palm, pussy fluttering around him as you cum for what seems like the tenth time, squeezing his dick like a vise. trembling violently beneath him and it takes every ounce of self-control he possesses not to let loose the feral growl building in his throat, knowing it would alert your father of your illicit activities. instead, he grits his teeth and redoubles his efforts, fucking into you his hardest to pursue his own release.

“eren,” even in your lightheaded state you begin to worry. his skin clashing obscenely loud with yours makes it hard for you not to scream after every nasty pound. you can feel him in your stomach, eyes rolling back into your skull as your mouth drops open, gasping in fragments.

“shut that shit up, ꒰♡꒱.”

whining pathetically, you let him use you as he pleases simply ‘cause there’s no room for bickering. all coherent thoughts flee, leaving only primal instinct and the desperate need for release. with a muffled grunt, he buries himself to the hilt and cums inside you, his grip on your hip tightening almost painfully as he thrusts out every hot drop, shuddering while grinding against your ass to prolong the sensations.

"holy fuck," his voice cracks, rumbling as he hits your ass again and again.

eren slumps heavily atop you, both of you panting and twitching in the aftermath. he rolls to the side, pulling you with him so you're draped across his chest rather than crushed beneath his weight. one large hand strokes lazily up and down your spine as the other tangles in your wild curls, holding you close as he tries to catch his breath.

"you did so well, love," he praises softly, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head and rubbing on you soothingly. "you're a good girl, i love you so much.”

his voice is warm and approving, filled with the kind of affection that makes your heart swell with happiness. in this moment, cocooned in his strong arms and basking in the afterglow, nothing else matters. this anniversary was just one of many. you were worn out, drifting off to sleep without responding, but he knew you felt the same. eren managed to clean you up in your sleep, dressing you with his hoodie again and snuggling under the warm blankets for the rest of the night.

the following morning, you awake to the smell of brewed coffee and pancakes. wiping your eyes and yawning as you make your way towards the brightly lit kitchen, needing to soak in the bath since you can barely walk. finding your father and eren cooking together while listening to the radio broadcasts. it was the most shocking sight seeing them bond. your father flipping buttery flapjacks and your husband fixing the garbage disposal since something got caught in it. your heart blossomed nonetheless, thinking that this is all you wanted all along. this was the best gift.

2K notes · View notes

reshinless · 4 months ago

Text

sylus is a girl dad.

sylus whose daughter loves telling everyone hi, with a wave and a cheeky smile (in hopes to find a mom and a wife for her papa)

she, who bumps into you while running around the candy isle.

"oh sweetheart, are you okay?" she immediately gets up to see who she bumped into-

"oh wow.. you're so pretty, lady!" she cheers as you pick her up. "mmhm? where's your parents, honey?" you search signs for any parents.bmaybe she was just wandering?

no no, a kid with this type of fashion would not just 'be roaming around'. she had a necklace with her own name on it.

"my daddy would like you." the small white-haired little girl looked at you with awe. playing with your hair as she leaned onto your chest, as if she was ready to call you mom.

you started to walk around the store, asking around if they'd seen her parents. but every stranger you met- to no avail did you get to find any clue. let alone the man himself.

"sweetheart, do you know what you're papa looked like?" tucking in one of her stray strands of hair behind her ears as she nods her head. "yeah, handsome and very nice. he is very tall too! and.. ummm... he has my hair!" huh.. you couldn't find anyone else that seemed to have similar hair to hers.

"ah, there you are scarlett. don't roam around aimlessly. you heard a low voice coming from behind you. oh this must be her father.

oh- wow. he was definitely a lot more different than expected. you expected an appearance similar to the way his little girl had dressed. "papa! look i found pretty woman!" she pulled on your collar, asking you to get closer.

'you.. you're her dad?" you looked back at the little pearl you had in your arms, she was wearing all pink and a dash of white. and compared it to the man in front of you's look. a black suit paired with a few touches of red here and there.

you chuckled at first, getting to converse a little deeper with the tall man, although he looked scary, he was not as unfriendly as he seemed.

"you're good with kids, hmm?" the white-haired male hummed, looking into your e/c eyes, he definitely could hold it. "I suppose!" you cheer as you watch the small girl run back and forth, grabbing unhealthiness off the shelves.

"miss! can you pretty please buy this for me?" she grinned, oh what a cute little smile! sylus suddenly stopped you by your shoulder; "I'm really sorry for her behavior, she doesn't usually act like this. scarlett, go put it back." the last of his sentence almost sounded nice, but a twinge of anger in it. well, understandably..

"don't worry, i can buy it for her. which one did you want again?" you stepped closer, kneeling down to her level, watching her point out what chocolate bar she wanted.

he had to marry you.

after a quick trip to the counter, the small girl happily munched on her candy, smiling a teethy grin at you. bits of chocolate over her mouth. "hey, careful now, chocolate can stain easily.." you walked to her, wiping her mouth with a part of your clothing.

"hey- you didn't have to do that." sylus was too late to stop you, the mocha already stained onto your shirt. "huh? oh it's nothing much really, I'm fine. they're just clothes anyway."

"let me repay you."

"no, no need really!"

"let me."

"no! it's fine!"

he grabbed your hand not too roughly, but places what looked like at least one-thousand dollars?!

by the time you looked up from counting the money, he had already gone. oh, what's this? a note?

"call me XXXX-XXX-XXX when you find something." huh. his number? now that's interesting!

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oreo-creampie · 1 year ago

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𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢, 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮, 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮, 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨, 𝐒𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚; 𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐡𝐨𝐠 𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐥𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐧 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: cam girl!!reader, gangbang, bondage, fingering, face fucking, dacryphilia, choking you with their cocks, light anal with a tip dragon’s tongue, taking nude pictures, degradation/praise/light mocking, pain kink, biting, toji slaps your face with his cock, begging, bdsm

oreo: couldn't stop thinking about this idea of them finding out reader is a cam girl and filming with her, I’m thinking of making this a mini series of them filing various acts with the reader, y’all down for that?

The dark red rope binding your wrists to your ankles, strapped and held apart by a short bar. Looping over your shoulders forcing your back into an arch, keeping your head up. You're vulnerable and small surrounded by five massive men.

He glances at the stream's rising numbers, two hundred becoming five becoming one thousand. “Damn these people are fast n' horny, did y’all miss your -what is it-" he smirks, "Princess Buttercup that much?”

Glancing at the chat, gushing in their excitement already suggesting various things for the group to do to you. Toji reads aloud, “Thought she filmed alone only? Release the princess at once?" Wiggling his phone at the camera. "The fuck is this bullshit? I'm cummin' in her cunt and then again on her face 'cause fuck you.” Slapping your ass, tossing his phone onto the middle of the bed.

"More!" Your body lurches forward with the force of Toji's next slap. Crying Satoru stuffs his veiny cock deep into your mouth, choking you. Quickly pumping his hips, his balls hitting your chin.

Satoru croons “Ya'll hear that? Our demanding bratty Princess wants more.” Gliding his cock out. "Tell everyone in chat what you want us to do to you.” Stroking his cock, coaxing out thick pre cum he smears on your lips.

Licking the pre-cum off your lips, looking up at Satoru. "Anything ya'll want, fuck whatever hole you want! Please I wanna be y’all’s cum dump!" Sticking your tongue out, moaning when he stuffs his veiny cock deep into your mouth.

Choso slides two thick fingers along your lips, wetting his fingers. “Let the audience know our safe word, and color system to ease anyone’s worry.” Smearing your slick onto your puffy, sensitive clit. Gently swirling his thumb around your tight hole.

Satoru loudly moans, fucking your mouth with deep, quick strokes. His balls hit your chin. "Nnn fuckin' slut, your mouth is so fucking wet and hot. Your lips are so damn beautiful wrapped around my cock. Nn that's it, beautiful slut." Groaning on his cock, another warm fatter cockhead nudges your cheek smearing pre-cum.

Satoru slips his cock out with a loud pop. "It's mocha to start aftercare, red for a break, yellow for slow down, green for good." Turning your head, mouth open, tongue out, eager to suck on the cock next to you. Taking Sukuna's thicker cock with a moan, his thick cock muffling the sound. A puffy vein glides along your soft tongue with each quick rough thrust.

Choso gently nudging past your lips. You'd moan from the pleasure of his thick fingers filling you up. "Good girl, your cunt's so tight n soft 'round my fingers." Gradually pumping his fingers faster, curling them. Your cunt clenching when he brushes your sweet spot.

Sukuna glides his cock out; you don't have time to catch your breath before Satoru stuffs his cock in. Your computer reads out. "Cumguzzler3 donates 600: white haired one moans like a whore, what's his channel. Or will this become a group channel, I'd pay to see ya'll using her as the house’s glory hole."

Followed by; "Dopedaddy42069 donated 1k: Any1 who cums in her ass gets 2k. She started experimenting with her ass. She has several drawers full of toys; u can find something." You hear a few drawers open.

Suguru wonders, "What should be the first thing we stuff up her ass?" The bed shifts when Toji gets up, joining Suguru by your large drawer. He pulls out a part of a dragon's mouth. Open with its long thick tongue slimming down to a small point. Ridges on the bottom offer another challenge besides the tongue's thickness.

Holding it up between Suguru and himself. "What 'bout this thing? Wonder how deep our pretty whore can take it." Suguru grabs the lube, squirting a generous amount onto the tongue's small tip. Toji smears it down its thickening length, walking over back to where you're hogtied at the edge of your bed.

Satoru and Sukuna are taking turns with fucking your mouth. Choso is restlessly stroking your sweet spot. Trembling, unable to close to legs or twist your hips away. You haven't even cummed yet the pleasure is too intense.

Suguru grabs the camera off its stand, "We have to take turns holding the camrea, I want to be able to jerk off to this later without ya'lls pale ass cheeks getting in the way from it being on a stand still." Your eyes are burning with tears when Satoru pulls his cock out.

You're gasping for air, your lungs burning, a few tears trickling down your cheeks. Sukuna fists his cock faster, your cunt clenching from the slick sound. “Aw our slut is cryin’ already!” He glides his thumb over his head, smearing pre-cum over his head. Sticking your tongue out for Sukuna to easily fuck your mouth.

Satoru suggests, "Let's take a few pictures, I want to change out my Home Screen and background. " He gets his phone, passing Sukuna's to him. He grabs a handful of your hair, holding your head still forcing his thick, veiny cock deep into your mouth.

Holding still with his cock stuffed deep, your nose touching the short dark patch of hair above his cock. Flashes go off as Satoru and Sukuna take pictures. "Dommymommy09 donated 600: post the pictures I'll pay more for them."

You’re getting off on how their taking pictures as you’re cumming on Choso’s thick fingers, with your mouth stuffed full of Sukuna’s cock. So many people are watching, touching themselves, wishing they could be you in between five beautiful, horny, muscular men.

Choso slips his phone out of his gym shorts. Recording the mess of your beautiful cunt getting sloppier. "She's gonna be on the verge of passing out when we are done with her." Choso roughly bites your cheek, groaning when you cry around Sukuna's cock.

Kissing the sharply stinging when before fully pulling away. Slapping your ass, Sukuna glides his cock out, the soft ridge of his head dragging along your tongue. Swirling your tongue around him when he pauses. “Fuck that’s it, cock hungry slut suckin’ on me like that.” Loosening his hold on your hair, letting you bob your head. Spit dripping down your chin.

Choso glides his fingers out, sticking them in his mouth sucking them clean. Suguru gets behind you, giving everyone a close up of your sloppy cunt. Spreading your lips apart. “Look at her poor little cunt clenching nothing.” Choso takes the camera from Suguru, wrapping his hand around his cock.

Smearing his pre cum with thumb, Choso bites his bottom lip trying to keep from moaning right next to the mic. Holding the camera steady, recording the mess Toji, Suguru, Satoru and Sukuna are making of you.

Suguru lines his cock up, slamming his thick, veiny cock into your sensitive, tight cunt. Groaning, taking the toy from Toji, nudging the tip of the dragon’s tongue into your ass.

Sukuna glides his cock out, letting Toji take his place in front. Toji slaps you across the face with his fat cock. Moaning with your tongue stuck out for Toji to use your mouth. “Looks like I’m cumming on ya face first, before I stuff your pretty little ass.” Stuffing his cock into your sore mouth, stuffing his head in deep.

"Lovefatpussy7 donated 300: seeing her play with herself makes my cock hard but I want to see her get treated like the whore she is."

"Spookygothybitchy69 donated 900: first time taking a cock on camera and it's a group, get it girl, i'm dripping wet n’ wishing I was you”

oreo creampie's m.list

Cam girl!reader x group m.list

4K notes · View notes

ariestrxsh · 17 days ago

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shy!sub!chris x babysitter!reader

˚₊ · »-♡→ content warning: smut, mommy kink, age gap (Chris is 22 & reader is 28), innocence corruption, virginity loss, size kink, oral (m & f!receiving)

˚₊ · »-♡→ summary: chris runs into his old childhood babysitter, and their innocent reunion takes a turn when the two can't deny the sexual tension between them.

If the age gap or the fact that the reader used to babysit Chris bothers you, then don't read this fic ! The ones that get it, get it, and the ones that don't, dont.

Part 1 | Part 2 (final part)

Baby Sitter (part two)

"I have your shirt, Chris. See? Can't even tell it had coffee on it," you remarked, handing over his white tee as you stood on his doorstep.

"Wow, that's amazing," Chris gasped, holding it up and searching for the remnants of the mocha he'd spilled down the front of it, but there was no evidence of it having happened at all. "Thanks!" Chris replied, tossing the shirt over his shoulder.

"Dishsoap and white vinegar," you casually mentioned. "Good to know," Chris responded, leaning up against the door frame. "Whatcha got there?" He motioned towards the brown, paper bag you had clutched in your arm.

"I got you a couple of apartment warming gifts!" You announced, pulling out a fancy bottle of avocado oil from it. He gave you an inquisitive look as you passed it off. "You cook with it," you giggled, sensing his confusion.

"Right," Chris replied, pointing the bottle at you as if you said the words that were sitting at the tip of his tongue. "Thank you!" He added. "That's not all," you relayed, grabbing another fancy bottle from your shopping bag.

"Oh, I know what to do with this one," he chuckled, taking the rosé from you. "Yeah, I got you a big bottle. So you could share it with someone if you wanted," you suggested, nibbling on your bottom lip and flickering your gaze between his eyes and his mouth. He shrugged his shoulder.

"I-I don't know who I would share it with," he admitted, holding a bottle in each hand as he read the label on the avocado oil. You jokingly looked around as if you were about to volunteer a stranger from off the street, and then finally said, "I'm free. Maybe we could split it over dinner."

"Oh. Cool. Yeah. I don't have anything to eat here, though," he continued staring at the label, still completely oblivious to the fact that you were hoping he'd invite you into his apartment.

"Don't worry, Chris. I remember my first apartment. You're probably mostly living off of ramen and takeout. I figured you might like a home-cooked meal," you replied, gesturing towards your paper bag.

"Oh, that's nice of you," he said, staring at you like a deer in the headlights. "So. Can I come in, baby?" You finally asked, cocking your head to the side and batting your lashes in his direction.

"Yes. Please. Of course," he eagerly nodded, finally stepping to the side to let you in. He silently kicked himself as he slowly realized that's what you'd been alluding to with your body language the whole time you'd been standing on his door step.

You didn't mind, though. You found his social awkwardness endearing.

You entered his apartment, placing the bag on his marble countertop. "Hey, you cleaned. It looks really nice in here," you observed, smiling in his direction as you started to take off your fur coat.

"Thanks for noticing," Chris nervously replied, his eyes dropping to the low neck line of your powder blue top and the short hem of your tight, black skirt.

"Is spaghetti still your favorite, baby?" You asked him, slinging your coat over the back of a chair and pulling out the contents of the brown paper bag.

"It is. I haven't had homemade spaghetti in such a long time," Chris responded, unable to conceal his excitement, a smile spreading across his lips.

You rummaged through his cabinets, retrieving a pot, filling it with water, and bringing it to a boil on the stove. "Would you grab us some glasses for the wine?" You requested from the blue-eyed boy.

"Will red solo cups work?" Chris asked, opening his cabinet. You laughed. "Look in the bag. I came prepared," you responded, uncorking the wine. He reached into the bag, revealing two neatly wrapped glasses.

"You thought of everything, didn't you?" He asked, placing them delicately on the counter side-by-side. "The only thing I forgot is a condom. But I don't mind if you don't mind," you leaned in, softly purring into his ear. Chris nearly fell to his knees at your words.

"I-I don't mind," he stammered, wiping his sweaty hands off on the front of his sweatpants. You smirked, pouring a big glass for each of you.

"You ever had rosé before?" You inquired, corking the bottle back up. "No, I've never had wine before," he admitted, swirling the pink liquid around in the clear glass. You held your glass up, and he followed your lead.

"To all the firsts you're going to experience tonight," you seductively said as your glass softly clinked against his. He swallowed hard, his palms beginning to sweat again. You took a swig of your wine while you held your gaze on Chris, waiting for his reaction.

He hesitantly took a drink, but he was pleasantly surprised when he did. "It's sweet," he commented, nodding his head in approval.

"You like it?" You asked. "I do, actually," he told you before taking another sip. "You shaved," you observed, running the back of your hand over his soft face.

"I did. You noticed," he quietly replied, reaching up and touching his flushed cheek as a smile spread across his lips. He loved how attentive you were, pointing out all the things that most people missed.

"You know, I've missed you these past few days. I haven't been able to stop thinking about you," you admitted, taking his glass and setting it down on the counter next to yours. You placed your hand on his chest and leaned in to kiss his neck.

He bit back a moan, gently rolling his hips forward and pressing his erection against your hip. "I haven't been able to stop thinking about you either," he returned the sentiment, his shakey hand wandering to the small of your back.

You bit down and gently sucked on his soft flesh right above his collarbone as he melted into you. "You know, I brought dessert, too," you told him, your voice taking on a suggestive tone.

"What did you bring?" He eagerly asked, trying to glimpse into your bag as you kissed his neck. "It's not in there, silly boy," you teased him, lightly tapping the tip of his nose with your finger. "Where is it?" He smirked at you.

"It's right.." you started to say, gently grabbing his wrist. "Here," you cooed, putting his hand up your skirt. You rested his palm on your heat, his fingers grazing your clit as his breath caught in his throat.

"You're not wearing any panties," he observed in a low whisper as he looked into your eyes, feeling the warmth radiating off of you. "Oops. I guess I forgot them," you smugly responded, your lips curling into a devious smile.

He started slowly running his middle finger up and down your slit. "It's getting so wet," he whimpered, his breath growing shallow.

"Are you excited to eat it?" You purred, running your manicured fingernails along his jawline. He nodded and dropped to his knees in front of you, leaning in to taste you, but you stopped him.

"No, baby. Not yet. You're gonna spoil your dinner," you taunted him, running your thumb softly along his jawline. "But I wanna eat my dessert now, mommy" he pleaded with you, staring up your skirt. You shook your head.

"Just one little taste.." he whispered, rubbing your clit in small circles. "Christopher Owen," you scolded him, lightly swatting him in the face and gently tightening your grip on his jaw. "Be a good boy and listen to mommy."

His desperate, blue eyes gazed back at yours, and he slowly nodded as he stood back up. He was completely under your spell.

He wiped some sweat from his brow with the back of his trembling hand and picked up his glass of wine, lifting it to his lips and taking a sip to distract himself. He felt the buzz coming on, but he couldn't tell if it was the alcohol or if it was all the blood rushing to his dick that was leaving him feeling lightheaded.

"You wanna know the trick to keeping your noodles from sticking together?" You asked him as you turned your attention back to the now boiling pot. He could barely focus on what you were saying over how hard you made him, so he just weakly nodded in response.

"Add salt to the water right before you put the pasta in," you replied, gathering all your seasonings. You added a few shakes of salt into the rumbling, hot water, and then you emptied the box of angel hair noodles into it.

"Then we wanna keep stirring it around every couple of minutes until it's soft enough to eat," you taught him, taking your wooden spoon and agitating the pot. All he could think about was how you weren't wearing any underwear beneath your short skirt.

"Here. Take this. You keep stirring while I prepare the meat," you directed him, your fingertips lightly brushing against his as you passed off the utensil to him. He felt a current of energy passing through his body as you grazed him, and you felt it, too.

He did as you said, stirring the pasta as you splashed a bit of avocado oil into the hot pan on the front left burner and started to brown the ground beef. You shook some salt, pepper, garlic powder, onion powder, and Italian seasoning into the meat and started cooking it.

His blue eyes fell to your figure as he wet his lips. He was almost certain you were going to try to sleep with him tonight, and while he was excited to finally lose his virginity, especially to you, he was nervous to lose it, especially to you.

His heart pounded in his ears, and thoughts raced through his mind, imagining how you'd taste, what you'd sound like, what you'd feel like.

"Did you hear me?" You asked, nudging him in the arm. "Huh?" He replied, realizing your lips had been moving the whole time, but he'd been too busy having dirty thoughts about you to register what you were saying.

You peered down at the tent in his sweats and smirked back up at him. "Whatcha thinking about?" You cooed as if you hadn't just teased him relentlessly while standing in his kitchen without any panties on.

He blushed and let out a laugh. "I'm sorry. I get hard so easily," Chris nervously apologized, nibbling on his lip and trying to hide his erection. "I don't mind," you smirked at him.

The two of you finished making food, made your plates, and sat down to eat. You teased him throughout dinner, running your foot up his leg and making flirtatious comments as you made eyes at him in the glow of the candlelight.

You poured yourself a second glass of wine and then another one. Before you knew it, you and Chris had nearly finished off the bottle, and the sexual tension between the two of you was growing.

"You don't mind if I stay the night here, do you? I've had a lot of wine," you asked him, slightly slurring your words as you twirled your noodles around your fork. "No, I don't mind at all," he replied nervously, taking the last bite of his spaghetti.

"You still get nightmares?" You wondered, taking a sip of your wine. He let out a small chuckle. "What's so funny?" You asked.

"I hate to break this to you, but I never really had an issue with nightmares, not since I was really little," he nervously confessed, fidgeting with the base of his glass.

"What? What about all those bad dreams you used to have when I babysat you?" You inquired, looking puzzled. "I was faking," he said, biting back a grin.

"Christopher," you replied sharply, glaring in his direction and slugging him in the arm. There was a bit of real anger behind your tone.

You'd spent many nights worrying about Chris and his bad dreams. So much to the point that it had cut into your own sleep on many occasions and caused issues in your relationship, which didn't matter in hindsight, considering how much an asshole your boyfriend at the time was.

Chris, on the other hand, loved how genuinely you cared for him, and the way you'd always drop everything to lull him back to sleep with your warm, inviting voice and the soft caress of your hand against his cheek.

You couldn't stay mad at him, though. In a lot of ways you found it endearing how much he wanted to be around you, but you were still trying to wrap your head around the fact that an eleven-year-old had come up with such an elaborate scheme.

"I know, I know. I just wanted you in my bed," he smirked. "Naughty boy," you rolled your eyes. "Maybe I'll pretend to have one tonight, so you'll have to come to bed with me and help me back to sleep," he lustfully responded. "Yeah? I bet I know how to tire you out," you flirted back.

His cock strained at the cotton fabric of his pants as you stared into his eyes, wetting your lips and parting your legs to give Chris another glimpse at what you had between them. He nibbled on his bottom lip, his sparkling eyes traveling to your glistening folds.

"Can I eat my dessert now, mommy?" He sweetly asked, but you slammed your legs shut and gave him a mischevious look.

Now what? He thought to himself, wondering what hoop you were going to make him jump through next before giving him what he wanted.

"I want mine first," you snickered, kneeling down in front of him and tugging at his sweats. He swallowed hard, looking down at you wide-eyed, but he listened, lifting his hips and allowing you to pull them down just enough for his cock to spring out of them.

You could sense how tense and nervous he was, literally sitting on the edge of his seat and his breath growing shallow and irregular.

"You're so hard," you observed, wrapping your fingers around his thickness and stroking it up and down. "All for me?" You cooed, watching a bit of precum gather at his tip.

"Yes, mommy," Chris said in a gravelly whisper. "All for you," he eagerly nodded, waiting in anticipation for what you were about to do next.

You leaned in, planting a kiss on his swollen head and slurping up the clear liquid from his slit. His cock twitched in response. You felt his whole body relax beneath you.

He slowly sunk back into his chair as he gave himself over to the wonderful feeling of your tongue fluttering around on all his sensitive nerve endings. "No one's ever done that to me before," he admitted in a timid voice as you wrapped your lips around his swollen tip and gently suckled on it.

"You like it, don't you?" You cooed before licking a long stripe from the base of his shaft all the way up his length and slipping him back into your mouth again.

"Mhmm," he whined, nodding as his hands found their way to your shoulders. He gently dug his fingernails into your back as you combined the two techniques, swirling your tongue around on his tip while you created a bit of suction.

He had always fantasized about getting head, but he didn't know it could feel this magical. He adored every subtle motion as you learned what he liked best.

His hand tenderly grazed the back of your head as he silently encouraged you to take more of him. You smirked, sliding down his length, feeling every vein with your tongue and swallowing him inch-by-inch until your nose was pressed up against his lower abdomen.

"Oh, yes. Just like that mommy," Chris pathetically whimpered as you hummed against the base of his cock. He slid down further into his chair, his eyes locked on the way your lips stretched around him.

You started bobbing your head up and down, eliciting a few soft gagging noises from you. The sound of you lightly choking on his dick drove Chris crazy.

He brushed a stray hair out of your face and placed both his hands on your ears as he tossed his head back and let out a strangled moan. He lifted his hips, driving his cock further into your throat. You could feel him quivering against your tongue as you slid back up his length, pulling your mouth off of him with a pop.

His lips curled into a smile as he peered back down at you. "Mommy. I was so close," he whimpered, his chest rising and falling with his labored breath.

"I know, pretty boy, but we gotta clean the kitchen before you can cum," you taunted him, climbing to your feet.

He licked his pouty lips as he let out a defeated sigh and pulled his sweats back on over his hard cock. He followed you to the kitchen, dragging his feet and silently throwing a fit about not being able to finish.

You put away the leftovers while Chris did the dishes, the whole time his cock aching at the absence of your mouth.

His erection was pinned between his stomach and the lip of the counter, and as he squeezed the excess water out of the sponge, he found himself rutting his hips forward and gently grinding against the marble finish.

You hoisted yourself up onto the countertop beside him and whispered in his ear, "Easy. You better not cum in your pants or mommy's gonna be really mad at you."

A pained whine drifted to your ears as he caught his bottom lip between his teeth and nodded. He went back to the dishes, trying to ignore his raging boner and trying to keep himself from rubbing up against the furniture like a dog in heat.

As he finished up drying off the last plate, you hiked up your skirt and flashed him your pussy again. His eyes widened, and his tongue darted out and slithered over his lips.

"Please, mommy. Can I have my dessert now?" He begged you, his voice saturated with lust and his eyebrows furrowed together in a look of desperation. "Yes, pretty boy. Come eat it," you nodded, spreading your labia open with two of your fingers.

He kneeled down in front of you, nervously leaning in to close the distance between his mouth and your cunt. You felt his warm breath first and the tickle of his smooth cheek grazing the inside of your thigh. He planted a delicate kiss on your pussy, causing you to grip his soft hair and gently tug on it.

He moaned against your sensitive bundle of nerves before gripping your legs and pulling you closer to him. Your mouth curled into a smile as he placed his hands on the insides of your thighs, pushing them as far apart as they could go. He gently nuzzled your clit before his pretty blue eyes flicked backed up at you, silently asking for your validation.

"Good boy. You're doing a perfect job. You're a natural," you praised him, running your fingers through his brown locks. That was all he needed to boost his confidence.

His kisses became more deliberate and more passionate as he drooled all over your cunt, periodically slurping up the mixture of his saliva and your wetness. You squirmed and squealed beneath him, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your thighs while he kissed, licked, and sucked on your sensitive area.

"Mommy, you taste so sweet," he complimented you, coming up for air for a moment. He lapped away, his tongue swirling around on your delicate folds as you started to tremble beneath him. "Chris.." you hissed, your body tightening.

Your head fell back against the wooden cabinet behind you as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. He couldn't tell if he was wine drunk or pussy drunk, but a warm, fuzzy sensation overpowered him as he lost himself in you, forgetting the boundary between his mouth and your heat.

He almost couldn't believe that he was making you feel that good, but the way your body was reacting to him seemed genuine. A few loud moans fell from your lips as you shivered, finishing onto his velvet tongue.

"Wow," you whispered, panting as you tried to regain your composure. "Was that your first time eating pussy?" You asked him, still gently combing through his hair with your fingers. He peered up at you, timidly nodding.

"That was the best head I've ever gotten, Chris. Your tongue is every girl's dream," you giggled, reaching for the hem of Chris' shirt. He loved the way you showered him in compliments. "Please. Take this off, and put your big cock in me."

"Big?" He whispered, looking into your eyes. "What? Does that surprise you, baby? That you're big?" You asked him, helping him take off his shirt. He slowly nodded, pulling his dick back out of his sweats and peering down at it as he lined it up with your entrance.

"You gotta be gentle with me at first because of how big it is, okay?" You cooed, biting back a smirk. You knew you could handle it, but you knew your words were like music to his ears.

"Okay," he replied, gently tapping it against your clit before slipping the tip into your hole. It felt better than he ever could have imagined. He gingerly rocked his hips back and forth, allowing you to get used to his size as he firmly placed his hands on your hips.

His jaw fell slack, and a look of pleasure seeped into his expression. It took everything in him to go slow and gentle, trying so hard not to get carried away. A couple faint whines unfurled from your lips, and Chris immediately stopped, glancing up at you.

"Are you okay? Am I hurting you?" He sweetly asked, concerned that the noises you were making were out of pain. "No, baby. I'm making those sounds because it feels really good. Go deeper," you whispered, tenderly cradling his face.

"Yes, mommy," he whimpered, fucking you a little deeper and a little faster. He leaned in to kiss you, your lips locking with his as you pushed your tongue into his mouth. His shaky hand slid up the hem of your shirt, and he gently squeezed your breast, noting to himself that you also hadn't worn a bra.

The soft clicking sounds of your mouth filled the space between you. You could taste the rosé mixed with the flavor of your pussy on his tongue as you pulled him deeper into the kiss. He felt completely intoxicated - drunk off of the wine and drunk off of you.

Once he pulled back, his eyes wandered between your legs. He took in the lovely sight of your pussy expanding around his girth.

"Harder, baby. Fuck me harder," you ordered him, resting your hand on his chest and feeling his sped up heart rate. You heard his breath quicken as he picked up the pace.

He pushed up your pretty, blue top, exposing your tits. He was immediately enamored with them, gently pinching your nipples between his fingers and listening to the pretty sounds that left your mouth as he played with you.

"Suck on them, baby," you directed him, and he nodded, leaning in to take each one into his mouth as he squeezed each one in each hand.

"Such a good boy," you purred, petting the back of his head and massaging his scalp with your manicured nails. He whimpered against your breast, the vibration sending pleasure through your nipple and causing you to clench around his cock.

"Faster, Chris. Faster," you demanded, feeling yourself getting closer and closer. "Fuck," Chris muttered, stopping abruptly. You felt his cock pulsating inside of you. He was afraid if he moved at all, it would send him over the edge before he could finish you off.

"What's the matter, baby? Hmm? Why'd you stop?" You cooed, cradling his head and pushing his face into your breasts. "So close, mommy," he whimpered, holding his body still and using every last ounce of willpower to keep from drilling into you and letting his orgasm run its course.

"Fuck. I can't," he whined, pulling out of you and waiting for the feeling to subside. "It's okay, baby. Yes, you can. Take a breather," you encouraged him, placing a hand on either side of his head with his nose just inches from yours as you peered into his beautiful, blue eyes. He nodded, taking a few deep breaths.

After a few moments of fending off his climax, he slid it back in, letting it go in all the way before pulling out again. He watched in awe at the way you stretched so perfectly around him as he plunged into you with his thick cock over and over again.

"I wanna turn you around so bad," he whispered, peering into your eyes as he pulled out again. You hoisted yourself off of the counter, spinning around, and propping your leg up on the edge of the marble cuntertop.

"Give it to me, pretty boy. Fuck me as hard and as fast as you can," you instructed him. "Yes, mommy," he answered, pushing up your tight skirt and slipping his length into your cunt from the back. He loved being told what to do by you.

"Good boy," you moaned as he started pistoning his hips forward, driving his cock deep into your drooling pussy as he reached around and grabbed a handful of your breast.

You could feel his hot breath against your ear and hear his pretty moans as he fucked you with all his strength. "Oh, Chris.. so big.. gonna cum.. gonna cum all over your big cock," you babbled as you shook violently.

Your orgasm hit your system, feeling like a series of explosions going off in your body. You tightly gripped the edge of the cool, marble counter as you clenched around him again, finishing all over his rod. Your juices flowed down the sides of his dick as he railed you, extracting your climax from you.

"Good boy. You made me cum all over it," you breathlessly whimpered, trying to catch your breath. A satisfied smile started in the corner of his lip as he realized he'd made you finish. "Fill me up, Chris," you demanded, letting your head fall back against his chest as he pounded into you.

He couldn't take it anymore. The feeling of your pussy convulsing around him and your words encouraging him to shoot his load inside of you, it was all too much.

He delivered a few more powerful thrusts, jerking his hips forward and triggering his own orgasm. His strokes slowed to a stop as he filled you to the brim, pumping you full of his liquid.

Pleasure coursed through him, leaving him feeling completely drained after, but in the best way, like he'd just finished running a marathon and had won first place.

He finally pulled out of you, nearly collapsing onto the floor and having to steady himself on the counter as all the blood rushed back to the rest of his body.

You spun back around, hoisting yourself back up onto the marble counter and spreading your legs and your puffy lips open for him again.

"Look at how much you came," you smirked, putting yourself on display for him as his thick, sticky fluid leaked from your cunt. He focused his blurry vision on the way it gushed out of you every time you clenched around nothing.

"Oh my god. It looks perfect," he responded, admiring the mess he made before slumping over and nestling his nose in the crook of your neck. A wave of embarrassment overcame him, wondering if he'd done a good job or if he was too awkward or shy about it all.

"Was I o-okay?" He nervously asked, his voice becoming small and shakey. "Chris. I can't feel my legs," you chuckled back in response. "Is th-that a good thing?" He timidly asked. "It's a great thing, Chris. You give the best dick. Best I've ever had in my life."

Your praises had blood rushing back to his cock, and it sprung to life once more.

"Oh, don't tell me that. You're gonna make me wanna give it to you again," Chris whispered as you felt his erection poking you in the thigh. You chuckled, surprised by his stamina.

"Give it to me again, baby. I promise. I can take it."

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littleslaywrites · 26 days ago

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serendipity | spencer reid x reader

summary: five times spencer doesn’t listen to the signs telling him to approach you + one time he does

word count: 4.7k

cw: f!reader, slow burn, fluff, 5+1, invisible string theory, a little bit of angst

Three minutes. That’s how long Spencer has to get in his car and start driving to be at work on time. He calculated the time that morning, when he had woken up earlier than usual and decided on a whim to try the coffee shop that had just opened.

He doesn’t know what makes him turn around. Maybe it was his training, forcing him to be aware of his surroundings at all times. Maybe it was your voice. “One iced mocha with an extra shot of espresso,” you say. Maybe it was fate.

Whatever it was, it made him pause dumping the packet of sugar into his to-go cup and face the back of your head as you dug through your purse to find your wallet. He keeps his eyes trained on you, putting the lid back on the cup.

When you turn, he forgets about the time he was wasting as he stops and stares. He forgets about how many sugars he’d used already. He even forgets his own name for a second. And he never forgets anything.

But something about the way the morning sun brushes its golden touch across your face has him brainless. His thoughts only came back to him when your eyes flitted up and met his.

In that moment, he wants to approach you, tell you that you might be the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen. Even more so when your lips pull into a tiny smile. He’d been a profiler long enough to know that the way your eyes ran from his was a sign that you were probably waiting for him to approach.

Just when we goes to grab his cup and walk up to you, he catches a glimpse of his watch. Ten seconds. He’d run out of time. He considered his options, choosing timeliness over what he might have with you.

You watch him leave, a little surprised. You were sure he was going to introduce himself. Brushing it off, you determine it’s not meant to be, a mantra you repeat every time something slips away from you.

Pulling into the parking garage, Spencer feels a pang of regret. He really didn’t need to be on time. Morgan had made a habit of being five minutes late. As long as there wasn’t an urgent case, he probably could’ve afforded the time it would take to get your number.

Paperwork gives him a solace from his thoughts, distracting him as he gets lost in reports. He almost forgets you. Almost.

Two weeks later, Spencer is wandering the walls of books, looking for some new reading material. He’s finished everything he’d had in his apartment, and was now holding a stack that’d last at least five days.

Scanning the shelves, he finds one that catches his eye. When he goes to reach up, his fingers brush against someone else’s hand. His immediate reaction is to fight a small freak-out, not wanting the stranger to contaminate him.

Pulling his hand back, he looks over to see someone else doing the same. Not someone. You.

He recognizes you instantly, memories of the café coming back to him.

“Sorry,” you say, hand returning to clutch your own stack of books.

He’s frozen in place. You’ve stunned him. Not because of the usual reasons of germs or stranger danger, but because it’s you. He realizes he’s frozen in place, which makes his internal panic worse.

In the seconds where he’s staring, you realize where you’d seen him before. It was coffee shop boy, as you’d nicknamed him when you’d texted your friends about how you’d just seen the cutest boy at that new café down the road.

Your heart skips a beat, and you try to fight off the blush you’re sure is currently invading your cheeks.

Say something, you think, trying to fix the uncomfortable moment.

“You’ve got good taste,” you force out, awkwardly trying to make some kind of conversation.

Her eyes are prettier up close, he thinks, hand involuntarily clenching from the brief touch.

He knows he should say something to you. He really does. It’s just that he can’t. He gives you a subtle nod, then escapes in between another aisle. He meant to find at least twice the amount of books he ended up with, but you had sent him into such a panic that he ended up checking out and walking out before he realized what he was doing.

You were left slightly stunned by the interaction, partially confused by the way he hurried out. You chalked it up to him being some kind of introvert, not wanting to talk to you. You could only hope that he didn’t find you repulsive or something, mind going to the worse places. Just like in the coffee shop, you let it go, assuring yourself you’d see more cute boys in bookstores in the future. Hopefully some that had as good of a taste in books as coffee shop boy.

Closing the door to his apartment behind him, Spencer realizes how he’s acting. He feels like a kid again, the same awkward schoolboy who was too young to be like the boys who had a girl on their arm as they walked through the halls. Setting the books down on his coffee table, he tries to not think about how he never truly learned to ask someone out. One day, he thinks, one day I’ll find the courage.

Rain has pelted the ground all afternoon, defying the forecast that called for sunny skies. Spencer, in his usual preparedness, had brought an umbrella to work just in case.

The past week, Prentiss told him about an exhibit in D.C. that she thought he’d want to see. It was a museum he frequented, so he set out on Friday afternoon to make a quick trip to the city.

When he got on the metro, he pulled out a book to pass the time. He hardly looked up when he got lost in a book, only listening for the announcement that he’d reached his intended stop.

Something drew his eyes up, though, just like the morning in the coffee shop.

It was you again, this time soaking wet. You’d gotten caught in the rain, trusting the forecast. You just have to get home, you keep telling yourself as you shiver on the plastic seat.

Sensing someone looking at you, you glance up. Spencer brings his eyes back to his book, looking but not reading.

There he is again. Coffee shop boy. He doesn’t usually take this train, you think. Maybe that means something.

As soon as that thought crosses your mind, you remember the bookstore, the way he ran from you. Your friends had reassured you, telling you to stop catastrophizing. You hoped that he was simply antisocial, but part of you still was stuck on the possibility that he hated you for some reason, sent from universe to humble you.

So you don’t move closer to him. Besides, you could only imagine that you don’t look your best, already feeling the way your hair is frizzing up.

Spencer’s heart is currently beating so hard that he thinks it’s trying to break out of his chest. Even after you’ve been caught in the rain, you’re stunning. He remembers the past two interactions, suddenly embarrassed by the way he acted. He couldn't just go up to you, especially after the way he ran at the bookstore.

When he reaches his stop, you move to get up. Dread mixes with hope inside you both as you realize you’re walking out together.

You keep trying to lose him, but your steps are sinking up. Climbing the stairs, you sigh at the sight of rain.

Spencer thinks to offer you his umbrella, to walk you wherever you’re going. It’d make up for his other two mistakes, giving him an in to start a conversation with you.

Approaching the mouth of the station, you can only hope your bag is watertight enough to keep your laptop dry. A more romantic part of you hopes coffee shop boy will stop you before you reach the end of the steps.

Spencer hesitates, takes too long to decide if he’ll approach you, and you turn to walk the opposite direction before he can say a word. Opening the umbrella, he turns to watch you walk away, sympathy creeping in as you hug yourself in the cold.

Cowardly. That’s the only word he can think of to describe his behavior. He’s embarrassed. It’s not gentlemanly, letting you walk away in the rain when offering the umbrella would’ve been easy.

When he makes it to the museum, he’s hardly in the mood to enjoy the exhibit. This time, he can’t seem to push you out of his mind.

Fall turned to winter quickly, the rain turning to snow. Spencer was thankful, since he thought of you every time it rained. He thought of the way you shivered down the street, alone as the droplets accosted your beautiful face. He thought of the way he acted, not even telling his mother that he’d seen you again. He’d written about you the first two times, but couldn’t bear to describe your third meeting. He knew all too well that his mother would have something to say about his lack of courage.

He was a worrier, the incident in the rain being no exception. His imagination even went so far as to picture you getting deathly ill from the cold, Pride and Prejudice style.

He pictured walking you home. Maybe you’d invite him inside, offering a cup of coffee to warm both of you up. Then he pictured you alone, stepping into your apartment in your damp clothes. He wished the former was the reality.

Spencer changed his routine, something he usually despised, simply to wake up earlier to get a morning coffee in hopes of seeing you there. This incited comments from the team, telling him the office coffee couldn’t be so bad that he needed to stop somewhere before work.

“It’s just a way to clear my head,” he said.

“Sure,” Morgan replied, knowing he’d been slightly distracted the first morning he’d visited the shop.

After three weeks of frequenting the shop, he finally saw you again. He’d almost given up, assuming he’d never make it up to you.

Walking out the door, the wind chill hits him, hands warmed by the coffee in this hand. He's looking down, studying the crunch of the snow under his boots.

You’re late, usually grabbing your coffee much earlier. It reminds you of the first time you came to this shop. That reminds you of that boy you saw that day. And two other times. Heart leaping, you brush it off, mind focussed on getting in and out before traffic gets worse.

The snow isn’t too bad, but the wind is stealing the feeling from your fingers. You reach into your bag, pulling out the pair of gloves you’d stashed inside on your way out the door.

You regret looking down when you feel yourself run into someone walking the opposite way. The gloves fall from your hands, and you crouch to pick them up.

Before you can grab them, the person you collided with is handing them to you.

“Thank-“ you begin, words stolen by the realization that the person is no stranger.

It’s him again, you think. Thankfully, you’re already flushed from the cold, protecting you from any outward reaction to him.

It’s her again, Spencer thinks, holding the gloves out to you. He prays the trembles away as your hands brush against his.

The image is comical, two people crouched in the middle of a busy sidewalk as it snows. You’re frozen, gloves in your hand but not pulling them away just yet.

Realizing this is his chance, Spencer tries to think of something clever to say to you. Something Morgan would say.

“It’s cold,” he says.

Fuck.

“Yeah,” you half speak, half giggle.

Is that really the best you can do?

He releases the gloves as you both stand up. There’s a brief hesitation, eyes finding each other and smiles creep onto your faces.

You’re still late, you realize, ending the moment. You look down simultaneously, walking past each other shyly.

What the fuck, Spencer? he asks himself. He beats himself up all the way to Quantico, feeling like he blew what could be his final chance with you.

You, on the other hand, are giddy. It was the most he’d ever said to you. Even when your boss gives you a talking to for your tardiness, you're fighting a smile. Coffee shop boy didn’t hate you, not at all. He was awkward, sure, but he didn’t hate you. That’s all you could ask for.

Spencer tried the café for about two weeks after your encounter, but gave up when you didn’t return, even after he waited three minutes past his usual allotted time.

The team was at dinner after returning from a particularly exhausting case. At least Spencer’s mind had something else to focus on. With time, he’d forget you. At least as much as Spencer Reid could forget a person.

You walked into the restaurant, two of your girlfriends in tow. One of them recounted the tale of her last date, a story juicy enough to require a sit-down meal for the official debrief.

As the host is walking you to your table, you stop in your tracks when you see him.

“Don’t look now,” you whisper, “but that’s coffee shop boy at that big table.”

“You’re joking,” one of your friends says.

“Which one,” the other whispers.

“The one with the glasses,” you say as you all slowly walk by, slow enough to look but fast enough to not arouse suspicion.

“Oh, the nerd?” your friend asks, causing you all to break into laughter as you scurry away to catch up with the host.

The sound draws Spencer’s attention, and he looks up to see you again. He looks down quickly, more than aware that he’s surrounded by profilers. Unfortunately, he’s caught by Morgan, because of course he is.

“You recognize her?” he teases.

“No,” Spencer murmurs.

“Then maybe I’ll introduce myself,” he kids, and Spencer forces a half chuckle.

He wills himself to not think about you, wanting to avoid any more commotion. He distracts himself with the team’s conversations, reminding himself that he’s made it this far without another person. Even if he feels something that’s a hybrid of regret and jealousy when his coworkers talk about their own pursuits.

At the end of the meal, the waiter brings fortune cookies for the table. Cracking it open, Spencer reads the tiny words on the paper:

“Fate gives you the ink, but you are the one who decides what to write."

Something in his mind clicks. He has to find you. He can’t let you go. There has to be a reason that you kept running into him.

“I’ll be right back,” he says, wandering toward where the host was leading you.

He looks for you, but it’s hopeless. You must’ve slipped out when he was distracted. He curses himself. You’ve escaped again, a result of Spencer’s inability to approach you. Part of him wants to run after you, follow every street until he finds you. But he knows the table is waiting for him. So he goes back to sit down, and pays his bill.

That night, he goes home to his empty apartment. The silence he always enjoyed is suddenly deafening. Five chances, and he blew all of them.

Spencer has learned to deal with disappointment. He’d learn to love the loneliness, filling his mind with knowledge, one part of him that he could keep from being empty. The emptiness always found him, though. It found him when his father left, when those kids tied him up on the football field, when the nightmares started and he’d wake up alone and afraid. And it found him tonight, when the weight of his lack of courage sank in.

Your friends drove you home, and you let them take the front seat while you sat in the back. As they talked, you felt the weight of the empty seat next to you. The two of them entertained you with their stories of romance, but it was just that— entertainment. Hell, one of them was engaged, and you hadn’t had a date since you’d moved to D.C. Maybe that’s why you were so stuck on coffee shop boy, the brush of his hands being the most romantic touch you’d felt for a while.

Suddenly, you were annoyed. Annoyed at the way your friends acted when you told them about a cute boy, excitement that you even had the semblance of a chance, a fraction of what came so easily to them. You were annoyed at yourself, alone on a Friday night in a city full of people. You were annoyed at the way coffee shop boy ignored you, meeting multiple times with less than ten words between spoken.

For all you knew, he had a girlfriend, a fiancée. Maybe that’s why he avoided you.

When your friends dropped you off at your apartment, they waited for you to get inside the doors. Nobody would be waiting inside for you. You imagined how it must feel to have a smiling face to greet you. In your fantasy, it was coffee shop boy, his brown eyes looking at you for as long as you wanted him to, his hand finding yours without pulling away.

Your bed felt a little colder that night. The universe could send you the same man five times, and you’d still end up without knowing as much as his name. You wondered where he was now, probably with the blonde he was laughing with when you were leaving the restaurant. It’s not meant to be, you repeat, not fully believing it, but letting the phrase lull you to sleep, anyway.

Another Valentine’s Day approached quickly, and you knew that it would likely be spent alone. Not alone, exactly, as you would be spending it at your best friend’s wedding in another state. You’d tried to find a plus one, scouring dating apps for any eligible bachelor that’d make you look less lonely at the ceremony. It proved futile, so here you were, alone in your hotel room.

You slipped on the mini dress, a matching color as the rest of the bridesmaids. Your best friend had chosen a bar for her bachelorette. All of you were unfamiliar with the area, making you feel a little uneasy, especially since there had been a series of murders in the area that had brought the FBI in to investigate. Luckily, they’d reported that night that the suspect was in custody, so the night out was still on.

When you walk into the bar, you know right away that it wasn’t your scene. It was loud, hectic, and slightly overwhelming, but you sucked it up for your friend’s sake. This was her night, so nothing would stop you from celebrating her.

Looking around, you find the bar is mostly filled with middle aged men who are unsuccessfully flirting with the younger girls. You probably should’ve known that this wasn’t the night you’d end up meeting anyone worthwhile. It didn’t really matter, though, as your friends are quickly on the dance floor.

Spencer didn’t necessarily love when the team went out to bars after a case was solved. It wasn’t his scene, loud music and unruly patrons. He could get over it, as long as it meant spending time with his friends.

It was windy that night, causing the jet to be delayed. Emily had been the one to suggest going out instead of sitting around on the tarmac. Everyone was at a table in the corner of the closest bar they'd found on Google maps. Spencer was observing the people around, one particular group catching his eye. On the dance floor, he saw flashes of a sash that said “Bride to Be”. He wasn't sure what about the group caught his attention, but he found himself looking up every now and then to see if the girls had escaped the dancing crowd to somewhere more open.

As his coworkers complained about the delay, Spencer realized that it was February 13th. He’d never had a Valentine before, unless you counted his mother and the candy hearts she’d buy for him every year. His friends had people to return to, people waiting when they got off the jet. He longed for a reason to complain about missing the holiday, but to Spencer, it would be just the same as any other day.

After about half an hour of dancing, you slithered between the moving bodies to find the bar. You took a seat at one of the barstools, ordering your favorite drink to cool you off from the heat of the dance floor.

Spencer sees your figure from behind, and knows right away who you are. For a second he doubts himself, not believing you were halfway across the country at the same time he was, but his memory had never failed him before.

JJ sees his eyes following you, and asks “Do you know her?”

“Yeah,” he says, standing up. “I do.”

He’d promised himself that, if he had another chance, he’d approach you. He knew he had to, regret tinting his memories.

And here you were, in some small town, serendipitously in the same place once again. He couldn’t ignore it, determining it must be fate, an idea that went against his leanings toward practicality.

He’d tried to explain it away with logical explanations. Even if it was coincidence, he thought the shared locations meant you were compatible. That’s why he was so bothered by the way you had disappeared that night in the restaurant. He’d finally had the courage to approach you, and you’d escaped.

This time was different, though. You were firmly in place at the bar. This time, nobody would pull either of you away. Not on Spencer’s watch.

“Excuse me,” he said, taking the seat next to you. “I’m sorry, I don’t want to bother you-“ he stutters.

You’re shocked. Surely, your eyes are wide, and he can tell you know who he is. Trying to cover up the way your jaw dropped, you say “We’ve met before.”

“We have,” he says. He’d planned what he’d say to you, thinking of every possible situation or smooth line that would win you over. “A few times, actually.”

“What are you doing all the way out here?” you ask, nervous at the amount of words you were exchanging. Coffee shop boy had been on your mind for six months now, and here he was, sitting beside you.

“Work,” he answers, causing you two to fall into a silence. It’s not awkward, the way you look at each other. It’s more of a studied silence, ensuring your eyes weren’t deceiving you.

Spencer is the one to break the silence. “I meant to approach you earlier, it’s just that I’m…”

“An introvert?” you finish his sentence for him.

“Yeah, I guess. I tried to find you the last time I saw you, in that restaurant, but you’d already left.”

“You tried to find me?” His confession takes you by surprise. “Honestly, I thought you hated me.”

“Of course not,” he says quickly. “I just get…. nervous.

“Yeah, I gathered that.” You giggle together. “Maybe this is weird, but I feel like I know you already.”

“You kind of do. You’ve seen me in five other places already. You could put together my routine if you really wanted to.”

Another quiet moment overtakes you. It’s comfortable, like two friends who know each other well enough to not need words.

“I’m here with my friends,” you explain, wanting him to know everything about you. “It’s her bachelorette party.”

“That’s more fun than my reason,” he says, glancing back towards his coworkers.

He explains his job, then, taking you by surprise. He didn’t strike you as the fed kind of guy, considering you know him through bookstores and coffee shops. He tells you about how he ended up in his line of work, how he finished school at an age when you hadn’t even learned to drive.

Then you explain your job. And your friends. And why you moved to D.C. And everything else you can think of. Before you know it, an hour has passed. Part of you feared that, in getting to know him, he’d lose his appeal. You’d constructed an image of him in your head, and you worried that it would be too high of an expectation for him to live up to. You were proven wrong. He exceeded the version of himself that had been created in your imagination.

He’s taken out of the conversation only by Hotch's tap on his shoulder. “The plane should be taking off soon,” he says. He nods, making plans to meet you again when you return home. He writes down his number on a receipt, and you tuck it delicately in your pocket, afraid to lose it, to lose him again.

“I forgot to ask,” you stop him before he can walk out. “What’s your name?”

“Spencer.”

And then he’s out the door. This time, his retreat doesn’t leave you with the same hurt it had the last five times. You feel fuzzy, warm, like you were right where you needed to be.

Spencer, you think. No longer coffee shop boy, he now had a name, a story. You turn his name over in your head, and it rattles around like a weight and makes your mind hazy when you join your friends again.

“Who was that?”

“You’ll never believe this, but it was coffee shop boy,” you reply.

“You’re kidding! What was he doing here?”

“Work.”

“Huh. Serendipity.”

Serendipity. Your friend threw the word out, speaking it lightly before going back to dancing. Yet, it stuck to you, grabbing on and not letting you go.

You weren’t looking for Spencer any of the times you ran into him, yet he was there. A gift waiting on days where you were otherwise preoccupied. You put a hand in your pocket, feeling the paper with his number waiting for you on it. It was material evidence of the connection you had, a piece of him left behind until you met again.

Spencer didn’t believe in fate. He hated when people said “everything happens for a reason”. It was the opposite of a comfort, and he refused to believe that the bad things in his life were destined for him.

However, something about you had planted a seed of doubt, watering it every time he ran into you again. It blossomed tonight with the ease of your conversation. You felt good, you felt right, you felt fated. If there was a destiny for him, he was sure you were part of it.

He could ignore his friends' teasing. Morgan asked him questions on the jet that he refused to answer. He pretended to be asleep, eyes closed as the vision of you overtook him. Someday, they’d find out about you. Your roots had intertwined with his already, locking your stories together. For now, though, you were his. His own personal offering from whomever sent you into his life. Even if he’d messed up the first few chances, you kept finding him, even where it was least expected.

Serendipity, he thinks. Finding something good when you’re not looking for it.

The definition swims in his head, still hazy from your encounter. He wasn’t looking for you that morning in the coffee shop, nor any other time. So he chose to believe it was fate. He allowed himself this one moment to ignore logic and everything he’d been taught. He allowed himself to suspend his disbelief and ride the flutters of his heart to you.

There had to be a reason. A reason that you kept finding each other. A reason why your conversation flowed with such ease. And, without your knowing, you gave it the same word. Yours spoken by your friend, his from a memory of an old movie his mom used to watch. You were apart, as he sat on the jet and you danced with in the bar, but your minds synced up as you both thought the same thing: Serendipity.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #mgg #mgg x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader

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