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meyousing · 9 months

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𝔾𝕠𝕛𝕠, ℕ𝕠𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕊𝕡𝕖𝕔𝕚𝕒𝕝

𝕤𝕪𝕟𝕠𝕡𝕤𝕚𝕤: gojo is always, always getting the wrong idea when it comes to your needs, and worries that you express, but it's just so difficult to correct someone who never thinks that they can be wrong. 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕖𝕤: yandere gojo x reader, nsfw, mentions of past kidnapping/captivity, cheating and manipulation. all sexual nsfw under the cut! <3

Three docile raps against the bedroom door, surely muffled to his ears on the other side from the sheer gentleness of your knuckles, if he was even nearby to begin with. It was almost as if you didn’t want to grab his attention, but you couldn’t wait much longer, these same four walls were beginning to drive you stir-crazy, and the ugly plush toys that he provided months ago could only entertain you for so long.

“Mhm?” You heard him hum, followed by a quiet thud that you imagined coming from his leaning against the door.

You jolted softly in surprise, not expecting him to be right there so soon. But you could easily see it; his lazy posture as his torso went limp against the wood like a petulant child–he certainly portrayed the immaturity of one most days. Even as he hummed you could detect a smirk on his lips; promptly shutting your eyes to block out that mental image and how mocking it felt even without the direct intent to.

“I need to pee” you lied, picking at your fingernails and twisting the material of your nightgown nervously, hoping the falsehood would suffice and he would relieve you of the suffocating claustrophobia brought on by this unchanging environment.

Eventually, you began to understand that Gojo liked having you here as his little side piece; he saw you as nothing more than a pretty plaything, to keep only for himself, even though you were certain that he made time within his busy, busy schedule to partake in his own trysts with all kinds of other people–your thoughts were only made so much worse when he would come home smelling blatantly of another person’s fragrance, or looking a little more dishevelled than he normally should have, even after a genuinely busy, action-filled day.

You, on the other hand, were just too pretty to be shared or merely ogled at because he just knew that anyone with eyes would try and claim you for themselves–you had to stay stowed away here, with him, because that could not happen. Yet, that hadn't ever happened back when the Gojo that you knew was actually rational. Nobody had ever approached you when they could very clearly see you two walking hand-in-hand, arm-in-arm, so how could you truly grasp the likelihood of someone else ‘claiming’ you? That would have to be a possibility left entirely to mystery; a thought for you to dwell on for hours when there was nothing else to do while alone in this room.

Having at least expected a verbal response before the door opened, you stumbled back helplessly as he swung it out suddenly, pressing his weight into the grip he had on the doorknob and standing before you. Your eyes slowly moved up to his, noting the lack of eyewear and cursing the way your stomach knotted when the natural attraction of his features drew you in like a lamb. Of course, the smirk that you suspected him to have was evident–even widening as he noticed your roaming eyes and the way you paused upon the sight of him. As if he wasn’t cocky enough.

“Are you sure?” He asked mischievously–enragingly.

“Yes.” You tried to watch your tone, tried not to mutter the word in a way that portrayed how annoyed you were from this already too-long interaction that was intended to be as short as possible. But you knew that there was a semblance of snark in the way that your pronunciation of the last letter was rather sharp; a short hiss behind your teeth.

Gojo’s head tilted playfully and his eyebrows lifted, as if his face on its own was saying “I don’t think so!” while he leaned in closer to you, bent at the hips so his nose was immediately before yours without reducing his posture too much. Arrogant.

“I don’t think so,” he retorted lowly. Oh, how much better that he actually said the words too, joining the silence of his expression! You resisted the urge to snarl at him as you made the connection, growing impatient.

“I think I would know if I had to pee, Gojo.”

“Nope.” The way he popped the letter p as he said that made you cringe away, yet he was unrelenting; “I know exactly what you’re trying to do.” His smirk graduated into a grin, and he spoke oh-so confidently.

Your eyes widened only slightly. You weren’t technically doing anything wrong, at least not that badly just yet; lying to him about needing to use the bathroom when you truly didn’t. But he managed to instill guilt within you, making you feel bad for doctoring the truth. How could you go about asking him to just let you out of here for a bit without imagining him taking offence? Or being met with an immediate no, which would crush your spirit too soon. Your mind was still relatively strong even after being here for what felt like quite a while, and you wanted to hold onto that.

“You’d know ‘if you had to’ which means you don’t really need to. So… what is it? What do you really need from me?” He continued and leaned even closer, his words so playfully murmured in such near proximity to you.

He was getting the wrong idea. You knew this, but he was stubborn and thought he knew better than you at the best of times, so if you didn’t rush to convince him a bit harder without admitting the blunt truth, you’d be fucked.

“I-I need to use the bathroom, please,” you said quickly, unable to control the little stutter and immediately seeking a change in his gaze to see if he caught on.

Of course, he did, chuckling softly under his breath and closing his eyes as he did. You’d only dug yourself deeper.

He stepped forward and you stepped back, effectively trapping yourself between him and the wall behind you as he subtly kicked the bedroom door closed. You felt your throat swell as his hands slid into his pockets, the newfound silence weighing down heavily upon the two of you. Gojo couldn’t help but remedy that quickly; couldn’t help but keep talking.

“I know you too well, Y/N. I think you’re feeling something else down there that you’re a little too shy to outright ask for, aren’t you?”

No, no, no. Absolutely not.

“N-No–” You struggled to say this out loud though, and that one moment of hesitation did you in. When dealing with someone who always thought that they had the right answer to everything, there wasn’t much you could do anyway.

“Of course, you won’t admit it to me.” He threw his hands up nonchalantly as if he were just a little exasperated with your apparent reluctance. “I’ve already told you to stop acting so shy… I mean, it’s cute and all, but I like hearing it from you. Doesn’t it feel dirty to be so honest with one another?”

His arms crossed over his chest and he simpered down at you again, taking your lack of a verbal response as a sign of that alleged shyness you seemed to have.

“Ask me. I want to hear you say it.”

You remained still and your eyes stayed widely trained on him, unwavering despite your internal rage at the way he was so confidently wrong. What’s worse is how you were stuck now, and whatever would follow was inevitable. Would it be easier to just go along with it, despite the way that the mere idea of that was sickening?

“I…” you started but failed to continue when you could see how he watched you in a way that felt rhetorical, like he ‘knew’ that you would just be ‘too shy’ to get the words out. So, so annoying. This was proven further by how he could only giggle and give you no time to finish a word before chiming in once more.

“You…” He drew the word out as you paused, “...caught me in a good mood.”

Was this statement supposed to preface his decision to suddenly whisk you into his arms and escort you the short few steps to the bed? After placing you down there, he wasted no time in getting on top of you, knocking your knees open with his thighs so he could slot his body between them with enforced ease. Now he was too near. You could cope with his intimidating tilts closer while you stood inches apart without distance ever being shut all the way, but the feeling of his clothed chest rubbing against yours now was a bit much; too indicative of what you could only dread to imagine coming next. Your heart began to race, and he could feel it.

“Aw, you still can’t help but get a little nervous being with me, can you? How cute, really.”

While his tone was playful, the flash of sin that slid over his gaze didn’t go unnoticed, and sent an anxious chill down your spine. You couldn’t even find room to retort, instantly feeling your muscles go taut once his long fingers traced up your side, slipping under the material of your gown with an ease that came naturally. He felt the way that you tensed, and you felt a twinge of regret for your decision to go braless earlier when his fingertips glided over to your breast so he could tease your nipple, staring into your eyes as he did–watching for a reaction.

The sensitivity inflicted by such a tender caress made your breath catch. When envisioning your fate before; when you had been caught so soon within your lie, you knew that you were done for but you hadn’t imagined that you’d be fucked so literally–grunting softly in uncharacteristic frustration when he pulled away for a moment.

He raised an eyebrow upon hearing the sound, suppressing a chuckle as his hands moved down to grab the bottom of your gown and start pulling it off of you. You couldn’t help but assist him, keeping your gaze aside so you wouldn’t have to see the knowing look he was surely giving. It was so awful, so horrible that rather than feeling sickened by going along with it, you could only feel internal anticipation. External as well, you supposed, given your lack of hesitation with helping him get you bare. You followed along with ease, like the lost, unguided puppy that he always made you out to be.

“Rest assured, I’m all yours,” he said with a tone that you knew he intended to make sound genuine, though there was something underlying within it, like he didn’t really mean what he said at all. He would still screw around on you, fuck other people then come home and assert himself over you, disallowing you to even think about doing the same thing, to even think about other people. You felt yourself grimace as you thought about this, frowning while your nightgown was fully lifted up and off of you. He took notice of your expression, and rather than showing concern, he displayed intrigue.

“Do you not believe me, baby?” was muttered with a ridiculously babied tone that you hated when he used it.

Ugh, stop with that. No. You didn’t believe him. But what would happen if you said that? There was rarely ever room for you to be defiant, Gojo had way too much power over you in so many ways that your obedience went without question, and you didn’t want to find out what he would do if you ever deviated. But right now it felt different—you had a very, very small window of opportunity. For once, you felt compelled to take it.

“I don’t.”

He hardly raised his eyebrows, only looking mildly surprised; as if he wasn’t very surprised at all. It was unnerving… what, had he expected you to say that? He, who was so used to hearing immediate fan-girly-toned exclamations of 'Yes, Gojo!', wasn’t even a little shocked by this? He lifted himself off of you a bit, your lower bodies still mostly in contact while he supported himself with hands gripped easily upon your knees.

“Well, why not?” A finger drummed idly against your perched leg, soft reverberations resonating through your femur, making you twitch slightly as the air and room surrounding you two began to feel heavier, and more tense. His tone itself was neither heavy nor tense, yet you felt a sense of dread anyway due to the unknown. Gojo had way too much power over you in so many ways that your obedience went without question. What would happen if he didn’t like what you had to say? You figured that he would certainly dislike a hesitant response after expressing such an atypical opinion, so with that added pressure you sputtered out the first thing that came to your mind, muttered like an absolute fool:

“Y-You always come home smelling like some cheap perfume, and I’ve seen lipstick marks on you before that obviously couldn’t have been from me!” You rambled this like a little outburst, sounding like you were finally relieving yourself from the burden of a thought that’s been weighing on your consciousness.

It only made Gojo smile. Not his usual cocky grin or his knowing little smirk, but a genuine, horribly attractive smile.

“You don’t have to be jealous.”

Of fucking course. You weren’t jealous, per se, you just felt that your being kidnapped and isolated into one room of his house while he forbade you from interacting with any other person may have been a bit unfair when he, on the other hand, could come home all leisurely with extremely blatant evidence of–at the very least–some foreplay-equivalent contact with other people all over his skin and his clothes, if you were to be so presumptuous. How to say this to someone who is so selectively dense, though?

“It’s not that–”

He shut you up with a kiss, so it didn’t matter. It was a kiss that was neither messy nor rushed like his typical first resort when he wanted a quick fuck, but rather one that was too precise as he tilted his head to deepen it and eased his body back down on top of yours again. His hands slid down the tops of your thighs so he could hold you against him with the utmost affection at his fingertips. It made you shiver, you couldn’t help it. You also couldn’t help the way that you seemed to return his kiss, even as your body remained a bit wound from such an unusual situation and sensation. He pulled back slowly, intimately, almost causing you to follow his movement to prolong the moment. You weren’t dishevelled enough yet for that, but with Gojo, there was always a way for him to gain your reception eventually.

“Honesty, Y/N.” His voice was a little raspier when he spoke. It sent something hot through you, and you swallowed the sudden lump in your throat when his eyes stared into yours, so heavily lidded, yet you could still see their gorgeous hue peeking through his depigmented lashes. You couldn’t shy away this time, because he was so close and on display. You also still couldn’t find a way to deny your natural attraction to him, unable to avoid falling victim to it in every instance similar to this. But now, with his intentional tenderness, it was that much more difficult–you were so much more malleable, you could tell.

His demand for honesty made you nod in obedience. This, in turn, made him grin and bring a hand off of your leg so he could run it through your hair.

“It’s really cute, you know, how you couldn’t outright ask me for this.” His fingers caressed your cheek before gliding down to your neck with a feather-light touch. “But I’m looking forward to the day when you can.”

His hand remained light, hovering above your ever-rising pulse while he brushed his lips against yours without fully connecting them for a second time. Your breath shuddered when he did this–why did you feel such immense disappointment when he didn’t kiss you again?

You couldn’t understand what kind of influence he managed to inflict upon you this time, what was so different at this moment–how it drove you to lean up and close that gap to your liking, satisfying the suddenly dire need to feel the plush of his soft lips properly. This managed to surprise Gojo, and he chuckled against you, his hand pressing down further on your skin only so he could stroke it, not adding much pressure for now. He waited until you had your fill, kissing you back until your neck unhinged and you rested against the pillow on your own time. You were the one to pull away, accompanied by a little smooch sound once you two parted fully.

“Better.” His tone was one of satisfaction, him evidently taking this as your reception to his wish for more incentive on your part; more honesty.

His hand was faster than you expected when you felt it return to your breast, tweaking an exposed nipple with a bit more force than before, causing a whimper to catch in your throat as you subconsciously arched into the rougher touch. This flustered you, and he took advantage of your state by bringing his free hand between your legs, lifting his hips off of yours so he could slide your panties aside. You only realized this had happened once a small bit of air brushed along your growing wetness, making you shiver and look up at him in mild surprise. He could only offer a conniving grin.

“You want me to touch you here, don't you?” His question was further punctuated by the tracing of his index and middle fingers up and down your pussy lips–not touching anywhere that would stimulate you yet, even in spite of how this still made you shiver. He wanted you to say it, to admit it, to outright ask. You were unfortunate enough to be getting so worked up by mere foreplay that you could no longer find it in yourself to even try and deny him, not when he looked down at you so knowingly. Like always.

“Y-Yes” you admitted it with a quiet tone, sounding just as shy as he kept making you out to be. Maybe he was right after all, which bothered you. Feeling bothered hardly lasted though, because the immediate gratification from two of his slender fingers pushing into you made your breath catch and your thighs twitch.

“Good.”

The short replies were odd for Gojo; he who could hardly go a moment without yapping every thought bobbing around in his seemingly empty but deceptively intelligent mind. You were left to believe that such immediate responses were all he could muster while he analyzed you, taking in every bit of information that he could; your physical responses to each unique touch, the pace at which you would reply, how much mental clarity you had left–in other words, the state of malleability you were in. It seemed that you had become putty in his hands now, quite literally.

It took him no time to find your sweet spot, and his allowance for your time to adjust was minuscule once he began to stroke it with intent. Your body stiffened due to the infliction of such immediately intense pleasure, but it seemed that he was only laying it on heavy to act as a distraction. It worked, because you didn’t hear the shuffling sounds of material being slid down, and your eyes had fallen shut for a few seconds in bliss so you couldn’t see the way that he took a second to align himself with your pussy before pushing his cock in alongside his fingers. The intrusion made you gasp, your eyes shooting open to confirm the sight of him penetrating you in such a way. He caught your eyes with a chuckle and a devious little smirk, teasingly rutting his hips into you for a moment so there would be greater pressure applied now, making your body shake helplessly.

“I’d never fuck anyone else like this, you’re special to me baby.”

He failed miraculously if that was meant to act as some sort of consolation towards your earlier expressed doubts of his loyalty. But you didn’t care about having your woes consoled as much as you would if you were in a clearer mind state, because the feeling of him now pushing deeply in and out of you right now was too good, too satisfying toward the arousal he had managed to build up within, even after you had started this interaction off with no such feelings, none other than annoyance and impatience. Now, you craved more; you craved release. That was all you cared for.

He rocked his hips in a way that was so precise, the blunt tip of his cock pushed his fingers harder into you and each meaningful thrust made you feel positively numb, made your mind grow delirious as he was all you could focus on. You could only wonder how it may have felt for him, though he showed no extra indications of enjoyment aside from his breaths coming out more ragged than those he exhaled previously.

Not much time passed before you somewhat adjusted to the feeling, your thighs trembled around him yet he maintained a pace that was just enough to keep you on the cusp of a crest, each thrust he gave was accompanied by soft moans of need from your throat. He tutted after you moaned a bit louder and gave him an exasperated look; your eyes communicating a silent plea for more.

“So greedy now, maybe your change of heart wasn’t so good after all” he teased, but before you could form any response he leaned down to kiss you in that same intimate way as he did moments before, thrusting into you a little faster and groaning against your lips at the same time. His own sound of pleasure sent something down your spine, made you squeeze around him, and you didn’t resist as he went to press his tongue into your mouth. You brought shaky hands up to his shoulders, holding onto them and taking the material of his shirt within your grasp as you became more and more worked up, needing an outlet to exert your buildup of elation against.

As his mouth continued to caress yours, you gasped around his tongue when his thumb which was attached to the hand buried inside of you snuck against your clit, nudging it in time with each bump of his cock inside of you. The addition of sensations finally gave you that extra push, and as you pulled his shirt into your fists and clenched your pussy around him tightly; you finally came, hips squirming and back arching as each wave of delight washed over you. Gojo’s lips stayed on yours as you did, and he matched each writhe of your body to their fullest, maximizing how you felt with his body too. Amidst such a fuzzy state of body and mind, you could vaguely feel his hips stuttering against you before his warmth flooded into your womb, making your body feel even hotter, and forming a knot of risky excitement in your stomach as he chose to stay buried in you even as he finished too.

When you ever-so-slowly recovered from the high, unlike any you had experienced before, he too moved slowly, except for the way that he pulled back from the kiss. He did it differently than the last; the previous was intimate from start to finish, but his departure now was rushed, as if he was timing it intentionally–ensuring that you were still in that blissed-out state of mind so you wouldn’t be able to question the depth of his next words:

“Now… you can stop questioning who I see, and what I do in a day.”

You heard what he said, sure, but your primary focus was on regaining proper breaths, in and out, while your lower body still twitched and tingled in the delicious aftermaths from such a tall height of ecstasy. So, you didn’t really hear what he said. You even nodded along with him like an idiot, tossing an arm over your forehead as you favoured focusing on slowing down your rapid heartbeat. You couldn’t see it, but he smiled in satisfaction and took another moment to get a good look at you and your vulnerability. Then you felt him leaving your body, a muted whine of dismay hiding behind your lips as you felt so empty now, aside from the sensation of thick heat from his release as it pooled at your entrance, threatening to spill out if you moved an inch.

“Seeya!”

Your eyes hardly opened as you looked up in confusion, and all you caught was the sight of his back as he closed the door behind him post-exiting the room–noting how he managed to fully dress up again in what must have been only a few seconds. The familiar click of the lock being instated rang out quickly, with his distancing footsteps growing even quicker; hasty, as if he had somewhere very important to be now.

Was he off to meet someone else, perhaps? No bother to you, at least not yet. This was becoming a regular occurrence, him touching and filling you until you were reduced to a breathless mess, then leaving you with your thoughts, and the feeling of recovery following such rapture soon warping into bile-stirring regret; making you sick to your stomach after you realized that he had somehow hypnotized you into letting him use your body, as if there weren’t countless others he would be doing the same thing to later if he hadn’t already within that same day. He would make you feel so special, and tell you things you must have wanted to hear, yet it was all for naught when you understood that you were just part of a category for him–you were nothing special.

Fortunately, you were still latching onto those final moments where you could feel remnants of exaltation, so the inevitability of those woes you’d soon care so much for was put on hold… for now.

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thisismeracing · 1 year

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The phantom of miscommunication | LH44

― Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x black!plussize!reader (she/her) ― Word count: 1.8k ― Warnings: not proofread; suggestive content; angst with a happy ending; mentions of an argument. Minors DNI! ― Summary: Dating a professional athlete is hard, and it’s even harder when you are famous too, and your schedules just keep crashing. how will their love beat their insecurities? ― A/n: I took forever to finish this request, but I hope the waiting was worth it and I did the request justice 🤍.

⁕ Based on this request. ⁕ my masterlist and my taglist ⁕ you can support my writing by reblogging, and leaving a comment (don’t forget to follow me if you like the piece)

You often hear about loving someone being easy and natural, a fall that you would pray the other catch you from. Turns out, as Yn discovered with Lewis, it feels natural, and she’s sure he’ll be there to catch her if she falls, but easy? Love wasn’t that easy. Or life was hard with it.

That’s at least how it feels for her while she finishes getting ready for the last performance of her Broadway play. Alone. She’s ditching her favorite dress because it reminds her of Lewis and how he would look smug whenever she wore it because she would need his help to zip her up. Lewis loved being needed. Not in a selfish way, but in a way that meant he loved to be helpful to those he cherished. Loved to hear their joyful tones while they thanked him, or the warm arms around his body, and in her case, the cold lips against his.

Lewis loved loudly.

Maybe that’s why they ended up fighting that last week. Because if he loved being helpful and seeing others happy, how could he not cancel a meeting to watch her finish the play she spent months traveling around overseas?

Yn loved silently.

It was as if she liked to feel him slide beside her in bed at night, rather than hear the noise of the door closing, and knowing he would be there. The silence that led to the moment was deeply appreciated by her. And her love somehow worked similarly. She wouldn’t ask more than twice for something she wanted, something important, something someone who loves her should know. To her, it was enough her dad showed up, he didn’t need to tell her she did a great job, no words of affirmation or bouquet of flowers and gifts whatsoever. Just their presence. And that was what Yn was expecting from Lewis: his presence.

She felt a tear slide down her cheek and she quickly wiped it before grabbing her bag and keys and leaving her house, making her way to one of her favorite cafes. There was something so unique, it mundane on finishing her tour home. Just minutes away from the house she shared with Lewis. A quick walk to her favorite café. The view of a grey, yet very beautiful London being her company.

Yn goes about her day doing most things on the automatic mode. Sometimes, she would think about how she always dreamt of this day when she was just younger. Starting on Broadway as a black girl was a hard task, that, in her case, was two times harder because she was also a plus-size actress. Some of the producers would reduce her to her weight, her skin tone, or just about anything, but her talent. She had to prove herself over and over until she finally became a phenomenon in the country and then, years ahead, she started to have a significant international impact. That’s when she met Lewis. She had traced most of her career, she had a name, and so did he, and maybe that was the first thing that brought them closer: the fact that it seemed as if everyone was attentively watching over them not because they wanted to appreciate the work they put on, but because they needed them to do something wrong, anything wrong, just so this wrongdoing could be talked about more than the rights.

It was hard.

And having Lewis there to share this burden made it a bit lighter.

Having him there to love her, and recognize her more than anyone ever would, was heartwarming. Being someone else’s first pick felt amazing. And though the ups and downs of their careers existed, they always faced it together. Just like they shared their victories together too. That’s why it felt so wrong not having him on her Musical ending show. He shared the struggles of her waking up early, and going late to bed just so she could grab each emotion needed, and memorize all the lines. She was the leading actress. The main start. Yet, she missed having him be illuminated by her light.

Truth is, Yn felt sad without Lewis, not that her happiness depended on him showing up, but they had created those small traditions. He would always be on the final stops of her shows. She would always make it to his most expected races.

As the saying goes, a dream you dream by yourself is just a dream, but a shared one is a reality. It’s hard to create a reality while in a long-distance, or mostly long-distance, relationship. You gotta be ten times more attentive and understanding. So when Lewis told her he had to make it to an interview before preparing for his race weekend without even waiting for her response, it did not feel like an understanding relationship, he, for the first time, did not seem attentive. And that hurt.

“But, love, why can’t you reschedule your interview for Friday after free practice? Or maybe even Saturday after qualy?” Yn asked, a pout on her lips, while Lewis was finishing packing his suitcase.

He sighed, “You know very well the rush after those two, Yn.”

Fair enough, “Well, then do it online! That way you could do it right before my play, and then come to the Teather after. It’s not that far from our house, you sure can make it.” She was full of solutions, to a problem that felt like Lewis himself created.

When his eyes found hers, determination written all over it, he didn’t even have to open his lips and tell her an audible “no”, she already knew, so she tried to practice healthy communication. “Look, Lew, it’s just that this is our last stop and they were okay with it being in London when most of the time it happens somewhere in the USA. You know how this city is important to me, and this play, it’s just- I can’t help but feel like you’ve been lacking in terms of support lately.”

The British finally stopped packing, dropping his shirt inside the suitcase, and leaving with a quick glance towards Yn, mumbling how he didn’t want to fight.

“But I want you to fight with me. Fight for me!” She trailed behind him, stopping at the entrance of the kitchen.

“Well, the world doesn’t revolve around you, Yn!” he snapped, and before he could apologize or backtrack she nodded, leaving the room. Love should never feel forced. She shouldn’t have to ask for it.

The door slammed behind her as she made her way to the Teather to bury her head in work, sweat the hurt away, dance, and sing until the energy made her feel comfort.

“Yn?” one of her colleagues asked, snapping Yn out of her memories. “They’re calling us for one last rehearsal before the show.”

She nodded and glanced at her phone, hoping to see a message, either an apology or a good luck one, anything that showed that he remembered, but there was nothing. Her shoulders slumped lightly and she made her way to the stage, the audience still deserved the best ending show, she deserved the best ending show.

So that was exactly what happened: Yn shined along with the whole crew. They sang, danced, smiled, and even cried after the curtains opened to an outstanding ovation from the audience. That’s when Yn’s eyes found his, right on the front row, a bouquet of flowers on his seat, one of his shy grins, while he stood clapping the most beautiful performance he had ever seen Yn deliver.

Lewis was there.

Lewis wasn’t in an interview on the other side of the world.

He was standing there.

Smiling.

Clapping.

Proudly watching.

And when her lips quirked up slightly he nodded as if knowing they still had to talk, but for now, he took the right decision.

When the curtains closed again and Yn made the walk to her dressing room, she wasn’t surprised to find Lewis there, “hey,” she said, closing the door behind her and staying glued to the wooden.

“Hi, sweetheart,” Lewis started. “Look, I’m-”

“Can we save all the headaches and solutions for when we get home?” She suggested, still a bit breathless from the play. “That is if you’re coming home tonight. Or are you flying to do the interview late?”

There was a sad smile on Lewis's plush lips, “I’m home, with you.”

A breath of fresh air got into Lewis’ lungs when he noticed her shoulders relax with the news. She was relieved he would be home. She was happy to have him around. It wasn’t too late.

“And I agree on saving the deep talk to when we get home, but I want to say I’m sorry I made you feel like I didn’t support you or love you enough to reschedule and work my way around my things. You’re my treasure, love. And I’ve been lacking lately, I’ve been stressed, and with my head all over the place, but I’ll get better. I promise,” and a Hamilton promise would always come true. You could count on that.

Yn bit her lips, trying to hold back the tears, but they fell around her face like waterfalls just the same, and Lewis was in front of her in the blink of an eye, fingers brushing the wet splotches, lips kissing her delicate skin.

“I’m sorry, I am so so sorry,” he whispered painly.

“I was so terrified we were about to get on a dead-end road. That you would stop showing up for my plays, and-”

“Sweetheart, breathe,” he held her face between his soft palms and Yn tried to even her breath with his. “I’m here, I’m always going to be here. You have my endless support and undying love, you can count on that.” He was a runner, one of the fastest drivers on the grid, but he could never run away from her and what she made him feel. What he could do was beat the phantom of miscommunication to the finishing line, get there first, say he’s sorry before it’s too late, and work so that this ghost won’t ever bother their relationship again.

Yn nodded, gulping a bit more of air, and finally crashing her body on his in a tight hug. Lewis kissed her hair and found her lips with his, tasting their own tears and love. Yn mumbled how sorry she was for not being patient enough, and Lewis shook his head, kissing her again.

“I’m the sorry one, and I’m gonna make it up to it,” he explained.

Yn arched her brows, looking into his honey eyes, “I know just the way you can express how sorry you are,” she smirked, undoing the bow for her white dress and making it cascade around her ankles.

And Lewis did exactly that.

He whispered apologies and love promises in her ear, the sound of a symphony with her body banging against the door. That was their private play. Their favorite one.

― ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: Hiii!! I hope you guys liked it! I hope your Friday is amazing! Don't forget to reblog and leave me a comment if you can, it means a lot and it usually inspires me to write more *mwah*

taglist: @sachaa-ff @mickslover @iloveyou3000morgan @mishaandthebrits @crimeshowjunkie @fdl305 @saintslewis @scorpiobleue @carojasmin2204 @chaoticevilbakugo @wondergirl101ks @smiithys @shhhchriss @f1kota @lunnnix @karmabyfernando @crashingwavesofeuphoria @schumacheer @callsign-scully @dearxcherry @p8dris @peachiicherries @elliegrey2803 @he6rtshaker @therealcap @mehrmonga @the-depressed-fellow @soph1644 @cixrosie @darleneslane @buckybarnessweetheart @nichmeddar

⁕ my masterlist and my taglist

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fict1onallyobsessed · 1 year

Note

hi, may i request a rhea ripley x fem! reader in which rhea's clothes keep disappearing from her wardrobe and she wonders who it could be until she caughts y/n wearing her hoodie? 🥺

Missing Attire

Rhea Ripley x Reader

“Babe, have you seen the black and white hoodie I bought not long ago?”

Rhea’s voice was muffled through the bathroom door but your heart sank a little as you stood silently, thinking about what you could possibly say this time as an excuse.

“…in the wash.”

“In the wash? It was brand new.”

You unlocked the bathroom door, walked out and shrugged as you watched her shuffle for something else she could wear apart from that. Still, you knew you wouldn’t be getting away with this for much longer. Stealing her clothes when she was away was a habit you took up a while ago, but now it has gently faded into a more common thing even when she was home.

The fact she hadn’t realised yet was a miracle in itself.

“Heard you’re meant to wash new clothes, you know, good for the skin…or something.” Lies spewed through your teeth, white lies of course, but nevertheless sinful. You were out of her normal hoodies so you had to settle on a new one she wore once while you washed the others.

She stared at you with a questioning look in her eyes, a small smirk on her face as a gentle “uh-huh” left her lips. You watched as she looked through every draw possible to find a hoodie that matched her outfit, the muscles on her back barely covered by the black bra she was wearing.

“What about the sweats I just washed? They were clean, how come they’re in the wash again today?”

She didn’t actually seemed bothered, instead asking nonchalantly as she finally started to put on the clothes she found, turning towards you as she did so.

You tried not to laugh and you managed to reduce it to a huff, hands coming up to run through your hair to mask your smirk. You shrugged again, laying back down into your shared bed as you stared at the ceiling.

“Just found ‘em laying somewhere probably, dunno, don’t remember.”

“Uh-huh.” She repeated, walking closer to the bed you were laying in and stared down at you. She signed as she climbed onto the bed, laying her whole body weight on yours as she laid her head on your chest. “If you say so.”

The time she actually caught you wearing her hoodie was after she came back from the gym one day. She left before you woke up, leaving you alone in the bed with nothing but Barry and Luna to cuddle with. However, you recently couldn’t sleep without her around, and the next best thing you had was the scent on her clothes.

So, when she came back, you’d changed your attire, one of her hoodies on your body as you snored away hugging Luna as she slept beside you. Barry was half awake head butting Rhea’s leg as she looked down at the sight in front of her.

You honestly thought you’d be awake before she came back, but clearly you’d managed to over sleep every natural alarm clock in your body and proceeded to sleep later than usual.

She’s showered at the gym, so she couldn’t possibly pass up the opportunity to get back into bed with you. She barely managed to get in before you stirred awake, hand coming up to rub some of the tiredness out of you eyes.

“If you wanted to take my clothes you could have just said, I wouldn’t have minded.” Her voice was really soft, a small sign escaping her lips once she was situated and cuddles close to you.

You froze a bit before accepting your fate, it didn’t even process quick enough that she was indeed back and indeed laying on top of you again before she spoke up again.

“I knew it was you.”

You giggled a bit, playing with the ends of her short hair, running your hands through it.

“Well it wouldn’t have been Barry, would it?”

She laughed and the both of you watched Barry jump onto the bed after hearing his name. Both of the dogs cuddling clothes to the two of you, a cosy and mellow atmosphere falling in the room.

THE END

#wwe x reader #rhea ripley #rhea ripley x reader #rhea ripley imagine #demi bennett #demi bennett x reader #rhea ripley angst #rhea ripley fluff #rhea ripley smut #demi bennett fluff #demi bennett imagine #demi bennett angst #wwe imagine #wwe incorrect quotes #wwe wrestling #rhea

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veganbutterchicken · 6 days

Text

Beast - September 17th - words: 920 - @wolfstarmicrofic

Sometimes, Remus caught himself thinking about what his life after graduation would look like. He'd have to get his own flat, because he couldn't imagine a reality where he'd be leeching off of Sirius or James. The flat would be tiny, walls getting damp in the cold winter, the ceilings too high, the radiator heat not quite enough. He'd have a job, he'd have to buy his own groceries, and cook, and clean. Life would be dull, because everyone's life eventually became that - reduced to daily routines, job and falling asleep alone in a bed made for two.

None of his friends knew that, deep in his heart, Remus was a romantic. The girls kept recommending him filthy romance novels they loved, thinking that he'd never read them, because that was something only girls did. But he read all of them, from cover to cover, and he kept imagining himself and Sirius in place of the main characters. And then once last summer the girls and he went to see a romantic comedy at a movie theatre. Remus kept pretending like he hated every second of it and yet, in the darkness of the theatre, he couldn't stop smiling. He kept glancing left and right to make sure nobody noticed. His grin was caused by the male lead, his hair just the most exquisite shade of black, although the length was too short to be a perfect match. But he let it slide easily because the man was handsome enough that Remus was quickly able to swap his face with Sirius's in his own imagination.

In those rare moments when he allowed himself to daydream, to enter the deepest parts of his imagination, to unlock the part of himself that he kept deep inside on a daily basis, he always came back to that one - his future. If he could choose it, he'd spend it all with Sirius. An apartment with two rooms, only one a bedroom and then the other one Sirius's studio, to let him have the space to paint in. Remus would come home from work every day, 8-hour shift full and stretching mercilessly, but he'd be happy, because he'd have a person that waited for him, the grey piercing eyes softening at the sight of him, the weight of the gaze doing something beautiful to Remus's abdomen.

He never told anyone about this, not even in the moments when his friends kept talking about all the girls they wanted to snog. They usually looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to spill. It was natural - he never told them about anyone, after all. He never even seemed to be interested in people, but that was because the only people that ever caught his attention were named Sirius Black. And Sirius was too interested in Mary to ever realise that.

"You're allowed to," James had told him once, in a futile attempt to brighten his mood after a particularly foul full moon. "You're smart, you're funny. Birds are waiting for someone like you. You just need to open up, live a little. You know, you're not some sort of beast that's never allowed to find happiness."

But that was exactly the point - luring anyone in was wrong, because he'd be subjecting the poor soul to a lifetime of full moons and needing help with every little thing for a week after that and scars that didn't heal. He didn't deserve love. He didn't deserve the warmth of the fireplace and the feeling of Sirius's head snuggled softly in his lap.

"Are you sure that it's okay?" Sirius asked. Remus only mumbled something he hoped sounded like a confirmation, too preoccupied with feeling how wrong it was. "Pomfrey told you to rest."

"It's okay, Pads," he said quickly. It was wrong but it didn't mean he wanted it to end.

The pair of them now had the common room all to themselves. They were lying on the comfiest couch, the one by the fireplace, and Bowie's voice was coming from the record player. Remus could spend eternity like this, not moving, only he and Sirius and the crackling of wood.

They didn't jolt even when James ran through the portrait, screaming, his face red and puffy from the hex Lily treated him with after yet another desperate try to make her notice him. James's eyes were tiny in comparison to the monstrosity his head has become.

Remus didn't react, trying to bite down on a laugh desperately, but when he felt a pat on his arm, he looked down. His eyes locked with the cold grey, the two of them erupting into laughter at the same moment. Remus collapsed himself downwards, to the soft fabric of Sirius's t-shirt; he inhaled the smell of fresh laundry, his shoulders shaking as he tried to steady himself.

In the moments like these, he allowed himself to think it was real. That it wasn't just in his head and instead Sirius felt the same for him.

"Do you think he's ever going to learn?" Remus asked with a snort after James went to the hospital wing. "Or find another object of desire?"

"No, you silly beast," Sirius said, and it was meant to be teasing, but Remus tensed at the words. "People like James never learn. And that's part of his charm."

Sirius had just confirmed his suspicions. He couldn't have this, not for long anyway - they had only four months of Hogwarts left and then it was all going to end.

#sirius black #remus lupin #wolfstar #marauders #marauders era #remus x sirius #wolfstar fanfiction #james potter #fanfiction #dead gay wizards #wolfstar fic #wolfstar fanfic #marauders fic #marauders fanfic #wolfstar microfic #sirius x remus #ao3 #fanfic #fic

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definitelynotafurinasimp · 8 months

Note

Raiden Ei, Yar Miko, and Sara kujou

Their love languages

characters: Ei / Yae / Kujou Sara x gn!reader (separate)

warnings: none

Anyway, hope you enjoy!

giving

Ei had always appreciated doing things in an uncomplicated manner, her sister had been the ruler and administrator after all, whereas she was a warrior first and foremost. And what was a simpler way of showing affection than to do something for someone else without asking for anything in return. You absentmindedly complain about something? Ei will make sure it’s fixed in a matter of days. Your house got damaged in a storm? Give it a rest and it will look like new by the time you awake.

Big or small, Ei has your back, because that’s what gods are for, afterall.

receiving

Whether it was because of some need for companionship she had unconsciously developed over the centuries she spent in isolation, the fact that it served as a reminder that you were truly with her and not just a memory or simply her nature, Ei enjoyed being able to feel you. Whenever you held her hand she immediately felt much more at ease and feeling you hug her while you slept kept any nightmares at bay.

So while she may not show it openly, just know you needn’t apologize for accidentally brushing your hand against hers or subconsciously putting your hand on her shoulder when talking to her.

Yae

giving

Believe it or not, but the Guuji Yae can be surprisingly generous when she wants to, assuming one was close to her at least. So while some of her presents came with strings attached or were more akin to white elephant gifts than to anything practical, every so often you’d be greeted with something genuinely thoughtful when you opened whatever box you were given, only to find her smiling at you when you look up.

If there’s one thing she’s good at it’s reading people after all, so don’t look so surprised when she knows what you want better than yourself.

receiving

Receiving compliments and praise was about as new to Yae as a pen was to a seasoned writer, with all the admirers and sycophants any person of influence tended to attract. And yet almost none’s words carried as much weight for her than yours, even if she teased you relentlessly for anything that came out of your mouth. Still, you regained the courage to do it again over and over, no matter how much of a blushing mess you were reduced to last time.

If complimenting her was worth the embarrassment, then there had to be truth to your words after all..

Kujou Sara

giving

Kujou Sara is a busy woman, from training and maintaining an army to her duties for her Clan time wasn’t something she had in abundance, and yet you would hardly know, considering how much time she spends with you reserving entire days off to be with you or working herself extra hard in order to finish work sooner to come home to you sooner.

So when she choses what little free time she has with you, it means more than a thousand confessions ever could.

receiving

She’ll never say it outright, but a single gift from you can turn an exhausting day into a good one, be it a small trinket she keeps on her person at all times so she has something to remind her of you even when you are far away or any sort of Raiden Shogun memorabilia that she’ll put into her private quarters and treasure with all her being.

It feels good to have someone think of you enough to put a lot of thought into what present to buy for you, after all.

#ei x reader #raiden shogun #raiden shogun x reader #yae miko #yae miko x reader #kujou sara x reader #kujou sara #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader

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ryuryuryuyurboat · 9 months

Text

'tis the season

synopsis: got the chills? no worries, pull your hand close to the fire!

genre: fluff

characters: kazuha, neuvillette, wanderer, wriothesley, xiao x gn! reader (separately)

warnings: reader referred to in 2nd person, implied romantic rs but can be read platonically

a/n: hihi @dernier-mystere!! i'm your backup secret santa for @2023gisecretsanta's secret santa event! it is way past christmas, so take this as a new year's gift instead! may this year bring you much joy, and hopefully this gift brings you some warmth in this winter :)) || likes, reblogs and comments highly appreciated!!

masterlist

ah, yes. winter, the notorious hit-or-miss season. while there may be those who love the cold weather, the harsh bite of the blizzards and howling winds in the snowstorms may prove to be too daunting for even the most seasoned warriors in the icy cold. in times like this, what better way is there to wait out the piercing tempest than spending some time holed up with your favourite people?

kazuha smiles a kind smile at you, offering a hand to you. my dove, he calls, won’t you join me by the window? the cold has fogged up the glass of the windowpane, yet you still sit together on the edge of the bed– he gently nudges your head to rest on his shoulder as you listen to the pitter-patter of the snow outside, its gentle rhythm lulling you to sleep. what beautiful scenery, you hear him whisper, but his gaze is fixed on you all the while. “i love when it snows. the world falls completely silent, and we can sleep undisturbed.”

neuvillette, completely absorbed in his paperwork, doesn’t even realise it’s snowing till he shivers when he feels your icy touch on both sides of his neck. the nerve. well, guess it’s a sign for him to take a break! he lets you drag him into the kitchen, where it’s warmer, and watches as you put the pots on the stove. what’re you doing? he asks, and nearly falters at your excited grin as you tell him you’d been wanting to make hot cocoa and share it with him. maybe those documents can wait, he thinks, as he opens his mouth to give the only suggestion on his mind. “snow, in fact, is one of water’s natural self-cleansing mechanisms. but human activity tends to reduce snow’s purity, so do not consume it.”

never tell the wanderer you feel cold. the only reply you’ll get is “well, damn, y/n, i can’t control the weather!” quite the royal treatment. but when you turn away to rub your hands together for some warmth, your nose red from the cold, you feel a comforting weight rest on your shoulders as he grumbles something about “not wanting to deal with a coughing and sneezing you”, and he offers you his wide hat as extra protection from the chilling wind. “i have no need for warmth. save me the trouble and take care of yourself, will you?”

winter with wriothesley, simply put, is warm. it’s homely. with him, it doesn’t matter whether you’re in the comfort of your own home, or if you’re far from your usual lodging — all it takes is the shrill whistling of a kettle a certain someone set on the stove, followed by the gurgling of the water as it’s poured into two patiently waiting mugs, and finally, he pushes a warm mug into your trembling hands. how he managed to find and brew tea that smells exactly like a chocolatey beverage you’re all too familiar with is beyond you. any questions that may have reached your lips are quickly washed away as he clinks his mug with yours and you fight the temptation to down the still-steaming liquid in one go. “cheers, and may the biting frost be melted away by this drink.”

cuddling with xiao? the demon conqueror? the karmic debt-ridden guardian yaksha? why, perish that thought at once! …although, if it keeps you warm, maybe he’ll make an exception. just this once. maybe he’ll entertain your suggestion of building a blanket fort, and maybe he’ll grab the thickest one to drape over you both as you share a bowl of hot soup. the howling wind rattles the windows– he looks out, at the snow falling onto the ground, then back at you. “maybe we can go out soon. the snow looks thick enough to eat.”

taglist: @yinyinggie @lynyluvr @kazemiya @meidnightrain @https-furina (send ask to be added to taglist!)

if you liked this, do consider dropping me a follow for more :>

#astronetwrk #・ nouveau livre ˎˊ˗#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin fluff #genshin impact fluff #kazuha #neuvillette #wanderer #wriothesley #xiao #scaramouche #kazuha x reader #neuvillette x reader #wanderer x reader #wriothesley x reader #xiao x reader #༄the vessel’s voyages #scrolls of yore✒️ᝰ

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llunapastell-reads · 9 months

Text

ᴡɪᴛʜ ʏᴏᴜ || ʙ.ᴄ

𝗣𝗔𝗜𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚 :･ bang chan x afab reader 𝗚𝗘𝗡𝗥𝗘 :･ hurt/comfort | fluffy | smut 𝗪.𝗖 :･ 3.7k 𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦 :･ profanity | sexually explicit | unprotected piv

𝗦𝗨𝗠𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗬 :･ Amidst the mess of an neglected office space, your boyfriend's forlorn piano evokes a wave of painful recognition. You wonder how much dust could collect on your shoulders before Chan realizes he's forgotten you too.

✧.* 𝗣𝗟𝗘𝗔𝗦𝗘 𝗩𝗜𝗘𝗪 𝗠𝗔𝗜𝗡 𝗠𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧 & 𝗗𝗜𝗦𝗖𝗟𝗔𝗜𝗠𝗘𝗥 𝗕𝗘𝗙𝗢𝗥𝗘 𝗜𝗡𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗔𝗖𝗧𝗜𝗡𝗚

An abrupt thud sends a spurt of pain through the crown of your head. It startles you more than anything, breaking your concentration on the drudgery at hand—cleaning out a long-forgotten cabinet nestled in the alcove of your home office. Well, to call it your office isn’t entirely accurate. With all of your boyfriend’s music equipment overtaking the majority of the space, it feels more like a foreign than familiar territory now. You do have your own desk opposite Chan’s makeshift studio setup, right below the room’s largest window so you can draw in the natural lighting. But it’s been a long while since you last picked up a sketch pad.

Hell, it’s been a while since either of you had the time to do anything in this neglected corner of your apartment.

A mumble of curse words falls under your breath as you soothe where you’re sure a decent bump will form later. A small break feels befitting now that the hoard of art supplies is somewhat organized, and you should probably grab an ice pack for good measure. The task has been looming over your head for too long, which is why this rare lull in your afternoon was dedicated to tidying up the room that has been usurped by clutter and storage.

Work has left you drained of all your free time and willpower, and when you did muster up a speck of vigor, it was usually in the name of chores or other responsibilities. Chan was even worse, all his time being spent practicing as he and the guys geared up for another comeback. His life has always been dominated by his craft—the man wouldn’t have it any other way—but you couldn't help but take note of how your moments together had been reduced to fleeting exchanges between late-night studio sessions and pressing deadlines.

You blink away the thought and cast bleary eyes over your shoulder. The beams of light that flood in through slatted blinds appear almost tangible in the air, so much so that you’re tempted to try and grasp one in your hand. Instead, you trace their glowing pathways across the room, where molten colors of gold and clementine reflect off the keys of a piano on the opposing wall. Each ivory piece seemingly ignites in the setting sun’s radiance, and a deep sigh alleviates some of the wistful feelings that thrum in your chest at the sight; it was only a few years ago Chan had bought that secondhand piano from a local shop after months of contemplation.

He somehow always talked himself out of the commitment, too humble to seriously entertain the thought of spending money on himself, especially when there were always bills to pay. Your relationship was fresh then, and even though the secret of mutually bashful affection had only been confessed a few weeks earlier, you were bold and convinced him a bit assertively to think of it as a business expense. The purchase meant aid in refining his skills, to enhance his contributions to his team: the beloved group of friends who looked to him for leadership with nothing but an unwavering confidence that he never quite felt worthy of. That’s what persuaded him to spend the one-and-a-half paychecks it required—the idea of altruism. The recollection of crinkles that formed in the corner of his eyes from unabated joy seems just as vivid as the luminous piano you’re shuffling over to from across the carpet.

Kneeling before it, your body sinks to eye level with the weighted keys. Hesitant fingers hover just above them for a long moment, as if one touch will disturb the magic of its glow and transform it back to an abandoned piece of dusty equipment. You’re not sure what possesses you to purse your lips and blow instead, but it’s a marvel to watch the tiny dust particles suspended in the air become glitter in the sun. A tiny smirk tugs at the corner of your mouth the whole time you tend to the instrument with a delicate touch, taking time to wipe down each crevice and bend. It was pathetically sentimental, but the keys were left for last. It just felt disrespectful to invoke any sound without deliberate intent. Once satisfied, you sit properly on the bench and admire your work.

It tickles to consider the extent of abuse these well-worn keys have endured at the hand of its enthusiast owner. The piano was the very first thing he had unpacked when you moved into this apartment a couple of summers ago, your first place together. Almost instantly it felt like home, even with blank walls and no furniture, aside from numerous stacks of cardboard boxes. The only thing occupying the room was Chan with a pencil tucked behind his ear to notate every tweak made to the piece he was composing. Sometimes, you’d catch him grinning to himself once the right notes fell into place and the room would suddenly appear brighter. His presence transformed any space into a beautiful sanctuary.

Hands clutch your chest as if it will somehow quell the sharp pang of longing deep within. Have you been so busy and distracted you hadn’t noticed the depth of the void that had stealthily crept into your lives? No, it wasn’t obliviousness. You just didn’t want to hinder him, especially when he was dedicating himself so earnestly to the career he’s built, to the team that needs him. You lied to yourself, said it was fine that you couldn’t remember the last time you ate a proper meal together, or got lost in a late-night conversation that stretched into dawn. It’s only when your head falls against the sternum do you acknowledge the wetness collecting in your waterline. The relegated instrument before you breeds a deeply discomforting feeling of recognition in your stomach.

Maybe you should just stay here, see how much dust collects on your shoulders until he notices. It’s painful to consider if he’d notice at all.

A melody he penned resonates amongst your distraught clamor of thoughts. The recollection is fuzzy, like it’s being filtered through an old phone line. Your hand moves on autopilot until a subtle and delicate sound emerges from the slow press of a key, summoning a wave of calmness to fall over you. Like a hushed secret, the note seems to linger, its tone rich and full, as if time itself has slowed down by its enchantment. With another caress of a key, and then another, every nuanced vibration somehow finds its place in the tranquility of the room bathed in hazy light.

Your rendition wasn’t perfect, but it felt good to get lost in the memories that surface from the music. You picture those tufts of soft curls bobbing along to the rhythm, chiseled features set in fixated concentration before he lost himself in the song. Chan’s passion was palpable, but what mesmerized you most was the graceful arc of his hands that moved with a fluidity that spoke to years of diligent practice. Hands of a god, Jisung would say when you watched them in the studio sometimes.

Your heart does a somersault when your playing is accompanied by the distant sound of a lock unlatching, followed by subdued creaks of floorboards. A stifled chuckle approaches from the doorway and pulls you from the daydream. “Please, don’t stop,” Chan smiles once your eyes meet. “I love this song.”

The man is a vision; dampened strands of hair appear dark against the flush of his skin, a result of what must have been an intense dance practice. A display of dimples almost distracts you from noticing how his shirt clings to the broad expanse of his shoulders. The black fabric does nothing to conceal the swell of biceps when he folds his arms over his chest. As he steps past the threshold of the space, the contours of his profile suddenly shimmer in the light. There’s a hitch in your breath, and your cheeks must appear flush too, but for a totally different reason.

“I don’t remember how this part goes,” you admit and bashfully turn your attention back to the instrument. Your fingers falter as you hit all the wrong keys, pulling huffs of laughter from Chan at the dissonant sounds you’ve produced.

All your muscles tense once he closes the space between you. Tone arms wrap around your body so Chan can guide your hands to the right keys. His breath tickles the shell of your ear when he leans in over your shoulder, the rhythm calm and in complete contrast to the erratic thumping of your pulse.

“I’ll show you,” the low octave of his voice incites goosebumps.

With tender patience, Chan guides your overlapping hands through the first set of notes. He hums along to the melody, harmonizing with the song while your interlaced fingers explore their way across the keys. How you yearned for this, the feeling of his warmth enveloping you—it excited every atom of your being, elicited a kind of vibrating sensation under your skin. You lean back against him and nuzzle the crook of his neck. A deep inhale has you feeling dazed, the mixture of his musk and the scent of smoky vanilla like a potent drug.

“Y/N, you’re not paying attention,” your boyfriend coos.

Just one more inhale before you can respond. The corners of your mouth curl upward as you ask how he can tell.

“You’re making me do all the work,” he tsks with feigned disappointment.

“I’ll give you a reward for your efforts,” the plush of your bottom lip ghosts over the edge of his jaw, feeling the muscles clench beneath. An open-mouth kiss presses into the bone and you’re unable to resist swiping your tongue along his skin. It tingles when Chan’s muffled groan reverberates against you. It only encourages you to suckle at the spot you’ve claimed to relish in the salty taste.

You’re so focused on him, it doesn’t register that the music has ceased until you feel your hands guided to your chest. With your fingers still intertwined, Chan helps you knead at the flesh over your tank top. You exhale a satisfied sigh when he makes you cup your breast and squeeze. One hand fondles while the other creeps down the expanse of your torso, tantalizingly slow. You have to face forward and focus on the silhouette of your figures just to try and regulate your breathing.

“Do you know what my favorite instrument to play is?” His voice is velvet in your ear, his mouth hot on the expanse of your skin. A shiver is the only response you can manage.

Teeth nip at the junction where your shoulder and neck meet. There’s so much unabated hunger behind it, the pleasure of sudden pain pools in your gut. Chan gently pushes your thighs apart and forces your fingers to trail up the skin of your thigh. A high-pitched whine falls past your lips as your hands brush over where you need his touch the most. There’s no point in attempting to hide how much you want that sweet friction on you, and he knows it. Your boyfriend chuckles with your flesh still in between his teeth.

“It’s you, baby. You make the prettiest sounds,” his words get lost amongst the sound of your labored breaths. Hips reflexively buck forward to meet where hands hover over your clothed mound and you can feel the wetness through the cotton fabric, already so damp from just his teasing. Chan hums with satisfaction from your undoing, then rewards you with soothing licks to the indents left behind from his bite.

He’s all over you but not close enough. Only thoughts of wrapping your legs around his hips and feeling the weight of his tongue in your watering mouth flood your mind, washing away all traces of doubt and insecurity. He must be thinking the same because there isn’t a speck of resistance when you shift your body around and tackle him onto the carpet. The action is impatient, ravenous, and completely welcomed by your boyfriend if his bruising grip on your waist is any indication. Your eyelids slip shut with the connection of lips, finally slotted together after what felt like a stagnant eternity. One eager lick at the seam of your mouth is all the prompting you need to part your lips and allow him entrance. With each brush against your tongue, tiny spurts of electricity pulsate down to your core.

“Y/N… Miss you so much… It hurts,” Chan’s confession comes out like a pained moan in between sloppy kisses. Something lurches in your chest hearing the rasp in his voice. You pull away just enough to discern the furrow in his brow, the desperation behind his widened brown eyes. He felt it too, didn’t he? Amid the long and grueling hours of work, your boyfriend must have agonized in your absence, just as you did in his. This anguish etched across his features is all the sobering confirmation you need and much more than you can stomach.

Did he genuinely doubt that you missed him too? How utterly unfathomable is that! Yet, It’s not like you’ve done a stellar job expressing your feelings either. Fuck, you’re such a hypocrite, weren’t you just spiraling from the same exact thought? You curse yourself for ever questioning his adoration, and Chan must see the moment guilt flickers in your eyes because his expression turns fearful. How could you be so stupid as to entertain the idea that the most devoted person you know might waver? When he loved, he did so with the entirety of his being, never allowing himself to hold back. His passion was simply too profound to be restrained, especially when it came to the matter of you.

“I miss you too, Channie,” it takes more strength than expected to keep your voice from trembling. “More than I can even articulate.”

A long, hard kiss finds its place at the corner of his mouth. You hope the chaste action will convince Chan of the sincerity of your words. The softened gaze and release of a withheld breath trapped in his throat appear to be signs of success, but there are a few other methods you have in mind to truly prove your infatuation with him; lewd fantasies that flash behind your eyelids practically have you purring.

The back of your hand gently brushes down his face and you feel your eyes crease with adoration for the man underneath you. When your tongue dips back into his mouth, the maneuver is not as rushed as before-–it’s heavier, sensual, and much more calculated. You’re desperate to swallow every one of his whimpers, every response you can solicit with a grind of hips against your boyfriend’s hardened length. Chan threads the hair at the back of your head between his knuckles and pushes your mouths even closer together until he’s literally stealing your breath.

You disconnect to gasp for air in the crook of his neck. It feels like you’re floating, so lightheaded from it all that your brain lags to process the instant he flips you down onto the carpet. His features go uncharacteristically serious as he sits back on his heels in between your splayed thighs.

“I need you–right now,”

Chan’s hands reach for the hem of his shirt and time seems to tick by in slow motion. Fabric bunches in his grasp as he lifts it over his head to reveal the sculpted muscles of his torso. Your gulp is audible when he frees himself from the restraints of his joggers, the head of his cock is glazed with arousal which glistens in the setting sun. You can’t seem to shuffle out of shorts fast enough.

If only you could see the view from above, how drunk in bliss you must appear as Chan peppers wet kisses down your body, discarded clothing littering the floor surrounding your joint forms. Intrinsically, your fingers card through his hair, like the grip on the brunette strands could possibly help you hold on to the bits of composure that are left. His licks at your flesh are slow, messy, and reduce you to a blathering puddle. Whimpers have devolved into tortured whines at this point, but that’s just how he likes it—you can almost feel his crooked smile when he noses past your navel.

“You sound so fucking perfect,” Eyes nearly roll back into your skull in tandem with the flat swipe of his tongue up your entrance. But then Chan leans forward to hover above you again, and a part of you wants to mourn the loss of delicious pressure until his smug grin reminds you the best is yet to come. “And you taste so fucking perfect… I wanna feel how perfect you fit around me.” He teases your folds with the tip of his cock, eyes dancing over your features for signs of discomfort. Any other time you would find the consideration endearing, but you’re fed up with clenching around nothing.

“C’mon babe, show me how much you missed me,” The command comes out more like a hiss, and that revenant look on his face immediately darkens with lust. Your generous lover doesn’t show any hesitation when he sheaths himself in you, and the sudden fullness punches the air out of your lungs. Your brows pinch together from the stretch, but a wild smile grows on you; It's been so long since you had him like this that you feel insane with want. Nails drag up and down the muscles of his back, motivating a wavelike roll of his hips with every new mark that’s made. He’s exquisite with the plush of his lip tucked between his teeth, obviously impacted by the feel of rubbing against your walls.

Chan arches his back and drops his head down to watch himself disappear into you over and over. His cock feels impossibly deep once you angle your pelvis upwards to chase after his movements, and you know he can feel it hit that spongy spot that will have you seeing stars soon. It’s invigorating, this feeling of fucking yourself on his thickness, but it must overwhelm him because it’s all too soon that you’re forcefully pinned down at the waist and rendered immobile.

“So eager,” he chides with a smirk playing at his eyes. “Don’t you want me to last?”

You’ll blame the slip of this filthy admission on being shamefully cock drunk when you replay it in your head tomorrow. No time to be shy now. “I want you fuck me ‘til I black out full of your cum, Bang Chan.”

You can practically see the static whirl in his head until a switch flips. The carnal desire that remained locked away in the name of chivalry is finally unleashed, and exhilaration sets your body ablaze. He says nothing, just stares at you with blown-out pupils as a swift tug brings you flesh against him. The strength of his grip remains unyielding, even as he's buried in you to the hilt, and a silent prayer is made for there to be visible bruises left from where Chan’s fingers dig into your hips. He savors the snug sensation for a moment before rocking his body forward with a gratifying intensity. As each thrust jolts your body further up the floor, the rub of the carpet on your back burns but in the most delectable way. Ceaseless expletives and groans pour out of him with every squelch of your cunt, but in contrast with the pornographic sounds, something much more tender and romantic blooms in the center of your chest. Soon it’s clawing its way up your throat, pricking at your eyes until a cascade of tears dampens the hair around your ears.

“So in love… with you.. with you, with y-you,” your mantra is like fuel to the hot coil that threatens to snap in your stomach. It’s clear you won’t last much longer, but neither will Chan, judging by how fervent and unharmonious his ruts into you have become. As the haze in your vision dissipates, time becomes elusive, suspended between eternity and a fleeting moment all at once. The emerging image you find above finally propels you over the precipice; It’s your lover, his sweat-slicked skin, the keen edges of his beautiful face, illuminated in a light born between waning sunset and encroaching dusk that splinters your heart open. You’re certain this room exists outside of the laws of space and time. That’s how it feels, anyway.

“Clenching s-so tight, baby,” Chan pants onto your lips, trailing right behind you with his eyes sealed in a rapture of pleasure. A few more languid thrusts has him humming with blissful satisfaction.

Within the next minute or century, you coax his body on top of yours with idle caresses smoothed into his lower back. He obliges, resting his cheek between your breasts as he tries to steady his breath to a calmer rhythm. Fingers trace taut muscles before finding their way into the mess of curls at the back of his head, and Chan purrs at the gentle massage you give him, the sound reverberating down into your ribcage. He’s a toasty blanket on you, warmed by a radiant kind of love.

Your mind floats somewhere so giddy and cozy that it requires actual effort to rouse the muscles in your mouth to form words. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you how I’ve been feeling lately. I missed you terribly, but didn’t want to guilt you into leaving work. I know that’s where you should be.”

The abrupt loss of heat against your skin jolts you back into reality once Chan raises on his elbows to pin you with a stare. “Where I should be, the only place I ever want to be–is with you. It’s where I’m the happiest. It’s where I belong, yeah?” His voice is firm but there is no actual hardness swimming in his brown eyes, only a will for his heartfelt look to convey the honesty in his words. The smile you return is a knowing one, one full of endearment and serenity.

“Now then,” Chan gruffs as he plops himself back down against you. “What do you want to do tonight?”

Delicate fingers weave through his hair once more as you rest your head on the carpet. Your gaze fixates to the ceiling above, where shadows and soft light sway together in a subtle dance. You can't think of anything you would rather do than this, with him.

ᴀ/ɴ :･ hehe haha been workin on this for a minute! please let me know if you enjoyed it. this fic is v much a self indulgent story born from the lyrics "there is nothin like doin nothin with you" from 'Nothing' by Bruno Major.

#skz smut #bang chan x reader #bang chan smut #bang chan fanfic #stray kids fanfic #bang chan fluff #stray kids scenarios #bang chan imagines #stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #lluna.p.writes #with you b.c

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just-my-latest-hyperfixation · 11 months

Text

To burn, to rise

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, October warm-up round.

Prompt: Halloween

Rated: E

CW (oh boy, here goes): Explicit sexual content; Boot humping, Face fucking; Anal sex; Rough sex; Possessive sex; Mind control; Dubious consent; Humiliation; Degradation; Objectification; Master kink; Mild blood and gore; Biting; Blood Drinking; Temporary MCD; Dark Eddie Munson

Tags: Vampire!Eddie; Dom Eddie; Sub Steve

Notes: Happy Halloween, have some depravity! (Sort of a sequel to this one.)

Steve has been married to Nancy for a little more than three years. It wasn’t until recently, when the fights became more and more frequent, the silences gradually heavier, that he realized he's been living a performance all this time. Tried to be strong, tried to be supportive, tried to ignore his own needs while she pursued her dreams.

It's weird, he thinks, how quickly that performance shatters. Because the second Eddie kicks the front door shut behind them, it is like every ounce of strength leaves him. The second Eddie presses him up against the wall, framed wedding photos shattering on the floor, he is the one clinging on for support. The second Eddie crashes their lips together and shoves a hot, wet tongue inside his mouth, his nerve ends ignite in an inferno of raw need and desire.

Eddie pulls away and Steve hardly recognizes the voice that lets out a strangled whimper at the loss of contact, but it must be his own. He feels floaty and numb, detached from his own body. Maybe it's the bottle of whisky he downed before Eddie showed up. Maybe it's the way he's burning up under the gaze of those unnaturally red eyes. Maybe asking a stranger into his home on Halloween night wasn't the smartest idea he's ever had.

"Where's your bedroom, sweet thing?"

Maybe none of it matters.

Nothing that happens after feels like a performance.

It feels right, wrapping his legs around Eddie’s waist and letting himself be carried up the stairs to the bedroom.

It feels right when Eddie puts him down and devours him with that hungry red gaze as he lowers himself in the room's sole armchair, haughty like a king.

It feels perfectly natural when Eddie tells him to strip in that deep, rumbly voice that fills his blood with buzzing heat.

It feels good, heeding every single one of Eddie’s commands, so he does.

Sinks to his knees by Eddie’s feet, straddling one of his boots. Lets his lids flutter closed as ring-clad fingers run from his naked chest to his throat, his jaw. Opens his mouth when Eddie tells him to, presents his tongue. Allows Eddie to press his fingers into the soft flesh of it until drool starts to gather all around them, dribbling down his chin.

"Look at you," Eddie coos, fangs showing in a fond little smile. "So good for me, so obedient, just like I knew you'd be. Knew I needed to have you the moment I first saw you, my pretty boy."

If the words make a vague sense of alarm stir somewhere in the back of his hazy mind, it is quickly smothered by the weight of the praise settling over him, by the vortex of these red eyes sucking him in. There's no need to be alarmed. He is Eddie’s pretty boy, after all, was made to serve and pleasure him.

"Yes, you were, pet." Eddie's eyes crinkle around the corners and Steve doesn’t remember putting words to the thoughts, but it doesn’t matter either. Not when Eddie is reaching down to open his pants, not when he pulls out his flushed and leaking cock. "Go ahead then, do what you were made for."

Everything fades into a faint blur of heat and arousal after that. He'd never have thought that it would feel this good, having his face fucked until he's choking on drool and precum and the solid, warm weight of Eddie’s cock. Never would have believed it would feel this right, being reduced to a sobbing, whimpering mess as he humps Eddie’s boot.

By the time that Eddie hoists him up into his lap, dripping filthy praise into his veins like sweet poison, he is a babbling, incoherent thing, begging and pleading to be fucked. He doesn’t remember how he got here, doesn’t even remember his own name, just knows that he needs his master's cock inside of him now or that gaping emptiness will consume him whole.

Master understands - because he always does, because he's just so, so good to him - and doesn't waste any time. Just grabs him by the hips hard enough to bruise and yanks him down on his cock with a force that makes him scream and his limbs tingle with electricity. Lifts him and slams him back down again, like a doll, like a toy, like-

"-the sweet little plaything you are. Mine to keep, mine to use, mine forever."

It isn't long before Master comes inside of him, fangs piercing the skin just over his collarbone as he does, filling him up and drinking him dry, all at the same time.

When it's done, Master brings his own wrist to his red, pretty mouth, opens a vein with quick efficiency and nudges it at his face.

"Drink, sweet thing."

He does. He'll do anything Master asks of him.

When his blood starts to boil and his skin turns cold, he is afraid at first, but Master makes a soft shushing sound and pulls him against his chest.

"It's okay, pet, it won't last long. You just rest, I've got you."

And maybe he should be terrified, maybe he shouldn't close his eyes. Because what's starting to drag him under does not feel like sleep at all, and he isn’t sure what the thing that'll rise from it will be.

But Master is soft, and his hand in his hair is warm, and it doesn’t really matter all that much.

So he goes.

And he rests.

And he rises.

#steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #steddie brainrot #steddie fanfic #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #vampire eddie munson #dark eddie munson #steddie holiday drabbles #hype's holiday drabbles

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tinytinyblogs · 3 months

Text

Where do you think you're going, darling?

Running away doesn't seem like a good idea, because in the end, they will always come after you.

⚠️ Yandere theme, unhealthy obsession, Kidnapped and a lot more⚠️

ChanMin, BinHyun, HanLix, SeungIn

Stray Kids Masterlist

Your insights and reactions make these posts come alive. Love reblogs, comments, and all the good vibes welcome ✨

Changbin

Changbin's gym sessions had become a predictable routine, something you observed meticulously, committing every detail to memory. From the time he left to the exact duration of his workouts, you tracked his movements with unwavering focus. It was during these precious moments of freedom, when he was away and the oppressive weight of his presence lifted, that you dared to entertain thoughts of escape. After weeks of careful planning, you seized what you deemed to be the perfect opportunity. As Changbin headed off to the gym, you sprung into action, your heart pounding with a mixture of fear and anticipation. This was your chance, your one shot at freedom. With every ounce of determination, you raced against the clock, pushing yourself to run faster than you ever had before. Each step carried you farther away from the suffocating grasp of Changbin's control, closer to the possibility of a life without fear and confinement. The adrenaline coursing through your veins fueled your escape, propelling you forward with a sense of urgency that bordered on desperation. You didn't dare look back, afraid that any hesitation would cost you the precious seconds you needed to evade capture.

As fate would have it, a series of unfortunate events or perhaps the overwhelming surge of his emotions propelled him to abandon his customary gym routine and hasten back home with a sense of urgency that bordered on frenzy. His heart pounding with a mix of agitation and determination, he burst through the door only to witness your fleeting departure. Instantly consumed by a whirlwind of rage, his voice erupted in a primal roar that echoed through the walls, reverberating with the intensity of a thunderclap. Fuelled by a cocktail of frustration and desperation, he dashed recklessly in pursuit, his steps pounding the pavement like a drumbeat of fury, as he resolved to catch you at any cost, heedless of the chaos unfolding around him. As your feet pound against the pavement in a frantic rhythm of escape, a cold shiver dances down your spine as you sense his looming presence drawing nearer, a relentless specter of dread gaining ground with every stride. It's as if the very air thickens with his malevolent aura, amplifying your terror to feverish heights. Life's unfair hand seems to deal its cruelest blow as he effortlessly outpaces you, his form a blur of raw power and unstoppable determination, a force of nature closing in on its prey.

Your heart races like a drumbeat of desperation, each step an agonizing reminder of your dwindling hope. And then, with a suddenness that steals the very breath from your lungs, his hand clamps around your waist like an iron vice, wrenching you back with a strength that defies comprehension. You struggle against his grasp, but it's like fighting against a force of nature, futile and doomed to fail. In an instant, you find yourself hoisted over his shoulder, your world reduced to a dizzying blur of motion and fear. His laughter, a chilling symphony of dominance, echoes in your ears as you're carried back to the place he calls home—a place that now feels more like a fortress of nightmares. With a brutal thud, he casts you down onto the cold, unforgiving floor, the weight of his presence pressing down upon you like an insurmountable burden. The door slams shut behind you, sealing your fate in a chamber of dread and despair, a prisoner to his twisted desires. "I thought you loved me," he spat out, his voice a volatile cocktail of fury and wounded pride.

"Why the hell are you running away like an idiot?" his voice thundered, the sheer force of it enough to make you flinch, as if the sound itself could fill the entire room, suffocating any semblance of escape. Yet, behind the facade of his words, lay the labyrinth of his delusions, where reality twisted to fit his desires, where your every action was an affirmation of his imagined devotion. In his mind, your attempt to flee was not born of desperation or a longing for freedom, but a mere whim, a frivolous game to entertain your bored spirit. That fateful night became a twisted symphony of pain and dominance. He left behind a trail of bruises, each one a dark reminder of his power, etched onto your skin with the cruelty of his touch. With a cruel manipulation of his abilities, he twisted the very fabric of your thoughts, implanting the notion of escape as a forbidden fantasy, a whisper that would forever be drowned out by the cacophony of his control. "You better love me as much as I love you now," he declared, his voice a venomous hiss, fingers clenching around your trembling hand, nails digging into the tender flesh of your bruised skin.

"But fear not, my dear, for we are bound together for eternity." His grip tightened, the pressure of his hold a silent threat, as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear. "And if you dare to forget your place," he whispered, each word dripping with malice, "I will show you the true depths of my affection. I will teach you how to love me, my dear, in ways you never thought possible." In that moment, the night became a twisted carnival of horrors, a realm where love and cruelty intertwined, and you found yourself ensnared in the web of his obsession, with no hope of escape.

Hyunjin

Amidst the fury of the storm, Hyunjin lay ensconced in the cocoon of slumber, blissfully unaware of the tempest raging outside, a cacophony of nature's wrath that served as a cloak for your desperate flight. Soaked to the bone, each step taken under the deluge felt like a battle against the elements, your body shivering with a mix of cold and fear, yet propelled forward by an unyielding resolve to break free from his suffocating hold. With the first light of dawn, Hyunjin stirred from his sleep, only to find the emptiness that now pervaded the space where your presence once dwelled. His heart, once buoyed by the illusion of your affection, now plummeted into the abyss of despair, aching with the rawness of loss. Fuelled by a toxic concoction of desperation and obsession, he embarked on a quest to reclaim what he perceived as rightfully his. With a charm as beguiling as it was deceptive, he navigated the labyrinthine streets, weaving his web of manipulation with the finesse of a seasoned predator.

Each inquiry, each whispered plea, served as a thread in the tapestry of his pursuit, drawing him ever closer to his elusive prey. And then, as if guided by some twisted fate, he stood before you once more, a sinister grin twisting his features as he watched your trembling form, the flicker of horror in your eyes igniting a primal thrill within him. In that moment, as you found yourself ensnared within the clutches of his grasp, the truth dawned upon you with chilling clarity: escape from him was not merely a physical feat, but a battle against the very fabric of reality itself, a futile endeavor doomed to end in surrender to his insatiable appetite for control. Despite your valiant efforts to wrench free from his vice-like grip, his hold remained unyielding as he dragged you back to the oppressive confines of his domain. Each struggle only seemed to fuel his determination, rendering your attempts at escape futile in the face of his relentless pursuit. With a forceful shove, he propelled you back into the room, the resounding echo of the door slamming shut behind you sealing your fate once more within its suffocating embrace.

In the eerie half-light, his figure loomed, a distorted silhouette of vulnerability and despair, tears carving rivulets down his anguished face as he confronted you with raw emotion. "Why did you leave me like that?" His voice cracked with the weight of his heartache, the pain of abandonment etched into every syllable. His eyes, once filled with adoration, now pleaded for answers amidst the chaos of his shattered reality. A chilling declaration escaped his trembling lips, each word a dagger plunged into the fragile silence between you. "I'll kill myself in front of you if you dare to leave again, If that happens, it's entirely your responsibility." he vowed, tears cascading unchecked down his cheeks, the sheer desperation in his gaze piercing your very soul. In that harrowing moment, as you stood ensnared by his torment, the lines between captor and captive blurred, intertwining in a twisted dance of obsession and despair. It became painfully clear that escape from him was not merely a physical feat but a battle against the abyss of his fractured psyche, a labyrinth of madness from which there seemed to be no escape.

Since that pivotal day, he clung to you with an almost suffocating intensity, his presence an inescapable force that enveloped you like a heavy fog. His need for control knew no bounds, manifesting in a relentless vigilance that bordered on obsession. With a manic fervor, he installed security cameras in every corner, their watchful eyes serving as a constant reminder of your dwindling autonomy. Every move you made was scrutinized, every word measured, as if you were a pawn in some twisted game of his own creation. His hands, once gentle and loving, now held you in a vice-like grip, as if afraid you might slip through his fingers like sand. But it was behind closed doors that his true nature unfurled like a poisonous flower, revealing the depths of his manipulation and deceit. When your back was turned, his smile twisted into a sneer, his eyes glinting with malice as he reveled in the power he held over you. "Damn, These locks aren't enough" he muttered darkly, his frustration boiling over as he slammed the door shut with a resounding thud.

"They'll understand their place soon enough," he vowed, his voice laced with a chilling certainty that sent shivers down your spine. In that moment, as you stood trapped in the suffocating grip of his control, the realization dawned upon you with terrifying clarity: escape from him was not merely a physical act but a battle against the very essence of his being, a battle that threatened to consume you whole if you dared to defy him.

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tsumtsumrry · 1 year

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request where reader has some kind of severish accident which means her movement is limited (like she has a leg cast and crutches or something) and harry takes time out to visit her in hospital and then care for her at home when she’s released until she’s feeling better and once she feels good again she keeps hinting at wanting to be intimate with him because it’s been so long and she’s missed having him that way and that aspect of their relationship but he’s not picking up on her hints because he doesn’t want to rush her or assume she’s ready before she’s fully recovered but it just makes her feel rejected and sad like he doesn’t want her that way anymore and he sees her as a burden because there’s no proper communication but then when they finally talk about how they’re feeling he’s like omg baby no that’s not it at all of course i’m still attracted to you i love you i just don’t want to pressure you after everything… cut to it ends in fluffy emotional smut and all is well again

lmao sorry this was so long and there’s no punctuation but this was literally a stream of consciousness 😮‍💨

hii thank you so much for the request it was really fun to write <;3

hope you enjoy!

It was completely your fault.

At least that’s how you felt. The bike ride was supposed to be short and sweet but you ended up in a small ditch with a broken ankle. You felt stupid more than anything. And a little embarrassed. You called Harry with a wobbly voice and shooting pain in your ankle. He raced to your location and took you to the hospital, doted on you endlessly and now that shooting pain has been reduced to a dull ache due to the medication they have you on.

His hands gently knead your leg and give you a much needed massage to soothe a cramp that’s been building up while you stare at him with loving eyes, “how’s it feeling, baby? Better? Doctor said it would be good to go home with some crutches.”

You roll your eyes at him and smirk mischievously, “I could’ve gone home days ago, you’re the one that made me stay here to make sure I was alright, Harry.” You chuckle softly and watch closely as he gets up to start to tidy up and collect your things.

“I just needed to make sure that there wouldn’t be any further damage, angel.” he pleads his case, stopping his gathering for a moment to shoot you a look that you only respond to with a deadpan stare.

“Whatever you say, Dr. Styles.”

“Mm. Say that again. S’kinda hot.” your lover smirks at you with that glint in his eyes that only shows up when he says something that he knows will have an effect on you. You giggle and he takes a couple steps towards you, leans down, and gives you a soft kiss. Your hands reach up to tangle in his brown curls, tugging lightly to pull him deeper into the kiss. The faintest of groans leave his lips and it makes a wave of contentment flow through you, you’ve missed him like this. That contentment is very quickly thwarted when Harry pulls away, only to leave you with a quick peck and a smile. You frown softly, but he misses it.

“All jokes aside though, I’m really glad you’re okay. It could’ve been a lot worse; you know?” He gently takes your chin between his fingers and squeezes softly. You nod and offer him a knowing smile. You know how anxious he gets, especially when it comes to the people he loves most, especially when it comes to you. “And excuse me for my innate nature to protect the girl I love.” he speaks with a sarcastic bite and a faux eye roll that you giggle heartily at.

“Alright, love.” his voice strains from the weight of you in his arms, “you just lay here and look pretty. I’ll go get your stuff and then we can cuddle.” You were cleared to go home. They sent you off with some crutches and told you that you were good to go.

And that’s basically how the rest of the five weeks in the cast went. You and Harry, alone in your house, with Harry constantly all over you and needing to make sure you were okay. He rarely let you out of his sight unless he had to go to work and you loved it, but seeing him and not being able to really kiss him the way you want to has you a little bummed, and frustrated. You’ve not only missed kissing him, you’ve missed having him. The weight of him on top of you, the praise he always whispers in your ear, the way he feels when he touches you and fucks you like no one else can. You’ve missed all of that.

And you barely need the crutches anymore! You’ve been walking just fine without them and Harry has been so vocal about being proud of your progress, but still nothing.

You try to give him hints sometimes but it’s like it completely flies over his head. He’ll just kiss you as if you guys are being watched by the pope and be his normal perfect, “tooth-rottingly” sweet self.

“Missed you so much, angel.” He had just come back from work, tired, but obviously never too tired for his girl, “d’you need anything? You’ve eaten right?” he mumbles while his face is squished cutely into your arm.

“Yes, my love. I’ve eaten. Don’t need anything really. Just you.” And that one was obvious, really obvious, you used that tone you normally use with him when he’s fucking you, you have your hands tangled in his hair and make sure to tug lightly enough to where it feels like an accident, you’re wearing his favorite smelling body oil, you’re even dragging your foot across his thigh for god’s sake. What more does he need? He’s usually ready to go with less.

“Well you’ve got me. Always.” his head shoots up, the curls flopping with it, he grins so happily at you like you aren’t dying from the emptiness of not having him inside you for so long. You might lose it and honestly you can’t even blame yourself for how you’re reacting. He’s just too good to be without it for this long. And you can’t figure out why he doesn’t seem to want to give you what you need. That’s always been his promise after all, that he was going to give me what you needed, always.

So, what in the world is going on now?

It’s been another two weeks. Still no moves from Harry and still seventeen million moves from you (a day). You’re beginning to think that he’s doing it on purpose, and that, that is a dangerous thought. You’re the biggest overthinker you know, and now that the seed is planted in your head that Harry is avoiding your attempts at being intimate with him, it’s spiraling out of control. There’s a big ball of emotion in the pit of your stomach that’s making you feel like shit and you really don’t like the feeling.

You decide to go downstairs and find him, hoping to just talk it out. The whole way down the stairs you’re convincing yourself that it’s all just a big misunderstanding or miscommunication, but your brain is working overtime to convince you that you're being avoided on purpose.

When you hit the last step, you immediately see him, in all his glory. His back is turned to you and he’s wearing a tight black shirt that showcases every muscle in his back and arms. It honestly makes your mouth water. You walk up closer to him when you realize he’s on the phone and your walking slows so you can be quieter. Your hands reach up to touch his shoulder and finally get some of that physical contact you’ve been craving. He puts his hand on yours for a second but then slightly shrugs your hand off of his shoulder. Your heart drops.

Now, normally, you would’ve found it funny, or just chalk it up to him doing something important, or being in a bad mood, but there was only one word running through your head now.

Burden.

The extreme fear you have of feeling unwanted manifests in many different ways. You stumble back from him, while he doesn’t even notice the pain on your face, and you slowly retreat to your room. As soon as you get upstairs, and onto your bed, the waterworks start. You feel so incredibly dramatic but it hurts so much to feel like the only person you want around doesn’t feel the same way you do.

It’s a couple dozen minutes of crying before you hear his heavy footsteps coming up the stairs. Your door opens a couple moments later and Harry comes in it. The first thing he heard, which stopped him in his tracks, was a sniffle. And then he saw you crying. His heart drops.

“Hey, hey hey. What’s going on?” he rushes over to you with his gentle voice, immediately crouching down to level with where you’re laying on the bed. “Is it hurting, baby? Tell me what’s wrong.”

And he tries to convince you to tell him, for way longer than he should’ve, lots and lots of coaxing, and when you finally told him, it may have been in the least liked way that you were imagining.

“Why won’t you touch me?!” you blurt out, frustration clear as day in your voice. Harry leans back slightly at the shock of your admission.

“Why won’t I…touch you? I–babe what are you talking about?”

“I’ve been trying everything I know of to get you to realize I just need you so badly, but it feels like you’ve been ignoring it. Like you just don’t want to be intimate with me and it feels like I’m a burden or something. I hate feeling like I’m bothering you.”

Harry has a permanent frown on his face when you speak, looking directly into your eyes, following your every move.

After your short rant he looks at you for a moment, he looks away as if he’s in thought, he sighs almost as if he’s relieved, then you watch him…laugh?

“I cannot believe,” he starts, immediately getting up from his crouched position to stand and tower over you. “I cannot believe that you could ever think that I don’t wanna be close to you, or make you feel good, or make you come the way only I can.” his eyes have changed from soft and concerned to intense, but with that familiar glint.

“You really think I’d ever deprive myself of being in between those gorgeous thighs, baby? Really?” his hand softly grazes against your thigh, almost as if to prove his point. Your eyes flutter shut at the faint touch. Finally, you think.

“I’ve only been worried about your ankle. I just wanted to make sure everything was alright before we did anything. You hurt yourself pretty badly baby, didn’t wanna pressure you.”

“Jesus, H. Seriously? I was worried–” you’re cut off when he kisses you deeply, his hand coming up to loosely wrap around your throat. You moan into the kiss and he groans deeply, moving himself so he’s on top of you.

“Thought I taught you better than you not using your words, pretty.” he rasps, his tone soft but condescending. You whimper softly at his words, as he spreads your legs to fit himself between them, rocking his hips to grind himself against you. “Hm? Use your words, baby. You have to tell me what you want.”

That slow grinding is making your mind go fuzzy, it’s been so long and you already feel dizzy with pleasure. “Need to be close. Need you to fuck me.” you mumble. You already feel closer than you have in a long time. The way you’re staying directly into his moss green eyes as his entire body flexes with his movements, the way you can feel his soft pants against your skin.

“Yeah?” and he wastes no time. He kisses down your body slowly, like he’s worshiping you, and makes his way down between your thighs. He spreads you apart slowly like if he wants to savor every moment and when he finally gives you what you want, he gives and gives and gives.

And you just have to sit there and take it while he’s fucking you with his perfect mouth like that, getting his face and your thighs all messy with your arousal, moaning as if he’s the one getting pleasure from it, making you come twice on his tongue despite your squirming and whimpers.

“Have no idea how much I missed your perfect cunt, baby. No idea.”

And when you tried your very best to pull away due to the overstimulation, he tightens his arms around your waist and tugged you back to him harshly with a gruff, “M’not done. Need more.”

And god if you didn’t just die right then.

When he fucked you, it was slow. And you could definitely tell that he missed you just as much as you missed him. Deep and slow strokes that brought the most beautiful sounds out of both of you and had his breath stuttering and eyes fluttering shut.

“You’re so perfect, so wet for me.” he moans softly. Suddenly his eyes open and his brows pull together when he looks down at you, he almost looks…sad.

“Don’t you ever think that I don’t want you like this again, do you understand me?” He punctuates his words with a very purposeful thrust that rubs right against the spot that makes you shake. “I could never be not attracted to you. Never. You’re the only person that has me this fucking gone. How do you not see what you do to me?”

He reassures you the whole time, whispering those praises you missed so much in your ear ang touching you exactly the way he knows you like.

“You’re so fucking good for me, angel. Squeezing me so tight, you missed me hm?”

“Wanna come for me? Is my needy girl gonna soak my cock? Go ahead baby.”

“That’s my girl. Fuck I’ve missed how you feel when you come around my cock like that.”

And when you both finish, he’s extra cuddly. You guys are bundled up in the blankets and it feels like if he were to crawl in your skin it still wouldn’t be enough to satisfy him.

“God I missed you.” he breathes out contentedly.

“Missed you too, H. So much.”

“Also you smell really good, is that my favorite body oil?” he questions with the most adorable smile on his face.

“Now you notice?” you giggle and roll your eyes; he has a confused pout on his face, and you just cuddle up closer to him and let your eyes fall shut.

#harry styles blurb #harry styles fic #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles x reader #harry styles writing #new #h's video diary

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anniemika · 5 months

Text

Lost and Found

Eren Jaeger x Female Reader

Chapter IV: One Step at a Time

Chapter summary: Searching for a path to your forgiveness, Eren yearns to bridge the gap his absence has left in your and your daughter’s lives, realizing how hard it’s going to be with every step of the way.

Words: 14.2k

Chapter 3

A/N: Yeaaah… it’s not like I’m 6 months late lol. I’m sorry for the long wait. I thought about splitting the chapter into two, but then again, you’ve waited for so long, might as well post the whole thing. I’m so very grateful to everyone who asked me about this story. It means a lot because believe me, it is hard to write such complex relationships, so having you have real interest in it means the world.🥹🫶🏻 hope you enjoy it!!

…..

Eren knew the path to your house by heart.

Even though you lived on the other side of town, he still remembered how he would walk you home everyday, and then walk all the way back to his house. It was your “thing”. He never let you go home by yourself.

But now, as he drove his black BMW, that looked absurd as opposed to the quaint streets of your simple town, he realized he never felt this nervous going to your house before. Even when you were teenagers and he’d spend the entire way thinking of a way to kiss you, it didn’t come even close to how anxious he felt at the moment. Because back then, he had nothing to lose. Now, with everything he held dear hanging in the balance, the weight of his fears bore down on him.

He parked his car beside the fence of your house, that looked exactly the same as it did the first time he walked you home. Light blue, with a little marking at the entrance that was his doing. He remembered how he’d taken a red marker and written yours and his initials on it. It wasn’t big enough for your mom to see, but both of you knew it was there. As he stepped outside, his eyes became glued to it. He wondered if Lily ever noticed and perhaps asked you about it.

He looked at the porch, the one he used to kiss you on, and it transported him right back when you were 16. When seeing you walk out the door and towards his arms was the most important thing in the world. He felt like an idiot for ever thinking there was anything else that could come close to that feeling.

His legs carried him to the front door, the familiar creak of the porch serving as a reminder of all the times he’d stood on this threshold, waiting for you. His heart pounded inside his chest as he lifted his hand to knock on your door. The little person that appeared in front of him was not the one he expected to open it.

Lily peered up at him, her eyes curious as she hid half of her tiny body behind the door, only her head peeking behind it.

“Hey there, Lily.” Eren smiled at her, a little nervous as he looked down at his little copy, “Is your mom home?"

Lily continued to stare up at him, ignoring his question with her own, "Who are you?"

Eren froze in his place. How the hell was he supposed to introduce himself?

He swallowed thickly, but still maintained his smile, “About time I told you my name, huh? It’s Eren. I'm-”

"Are you my mom's new boyfriend?" The little girl looked at him skeptically.

Eren found himself at a loss for words by the straightforwardness of the question. He began to think, trying to come up with a response that would answer her curiosity without delving into the complicated nature of his relationship with you.

“No, I’m not. I’m.. an old friend of hers.” The moment the words were uttered, he felt a surge of frustration run through him. You weren’t just friends who’d lost touch over the years. To reduce everything you’d gone through together to a mere friendship that had just faded away felt like a whole new betrayal. But still, as much as he wanted to, Eren knew he couldn’t tell the beautiful little girl in front of him the truth. Not just yet. “I really need to talk to her. Is she here?”

“Lily, I’ve told you not to open the door-“

You appeared in a flash, and Eren could sense your protective instincts kicking in, like a mama bear ready to defend her cub. You were in your bath robe, which made Eren a bit uncomfortable, appearing on a Sunday and catching you off guard. When your eyes landed on him, they widened, but he had to fight his from going down to your collar bones. Don’t, you asshole.

“Hey.” His voice was low and gentle, but that didn’t stop your frown from appearing. He watched as you instructed Lily to go inside, who sent him a smile before telling him bye.

“Bye, Lily.” Seeing her go inside, he wondered when he’d be able to see her beautiful smile again. Like he always wondered if he’d ever be able to see yours.

“Why are you here?” You brought his attention back to you, sensing the guardedness in your voice. Looking at him like he was your enemy, like he wanted to do you harm. He hated it.

“I’m sorry for showing up like this, but I really need to talk to you.” He had the feeling you’d say no, so his first instinct was to cut you off. “Please, Y/n. Just an hour, whenever you can.”

He could only imagine how you must be feeling right now, put on the spot like that. But Eren had no other choice.

You studied him for a moment, your eyes revealing nothing. Eren’s heart was in his throat. He didn’t know if he should say something, plead with you again, or just remain silent. He decided on the latter, even though it was excruciatingly difficult to withstand your penetrating stare.

“You can’t just keep showing up like this. You know that.”

He did. It felt so wrong to disturb your life like this, but his selfishness was stronger than anything else inside of him.

“I know, I’m sorry.” He did his best to stop his voice from wavering. “I won’t bother you, I promise. Just please consider it.”

It felt like hours going by as he waited for you to say something. His fists clenched and unclenched as he struggled to tear his gaze away from you, his eyes drinking in every detail that had been denied to him for so long. He wanted to memorise your face in case you shut the door in his. Here, right now, in this vulnerable state, with your face untouched by make up, your hair casually gathered into a messy bun, body wrapped in your bathrobe. He watched you instinctively trying to shield yourself from him, a physical barrier reflecting the emotional walls that had been erected between you.

But to Eren, you were more beautiful like this than ever before.

“Fine.” The word rung in the air, and it took a second for Eren to grasp it, “Tomorrow, 2p.m., Daisy cafe. It’s my lunch break, so I won’t have an hour.”

His green eyes almost dilated, his face contorting into a smile. He wanted to wrap his arms around you, barely stopping himself. You were giving him a shot. He couldn’t possibly ask for more. “Yeah, sure, of course. Thank you.”

“Okay, then.” You cast your eyes down at your feet. Eren could sense you weren’t comfortable looking at him. “We have to get going, so..”

“Oh, yeah, sorry.” He moved back a bit as if not to intrude your space. “I’ll- I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

“Bye.”

A heart beat later, you’d closed the door.

Eren lingered on your porch for a moment longer, basking in the afterglow of your agreement. His heart drummed a rapid rhythm in his chest, the echo of his pure bliss. You were going to talk to him. That glimmer of hope managed to fuel his determination like nothing else. It was euphoric, almost like he was floating. As he slid into his car, the scene replayed in his mind like a movie scene.

As he navigated the familiar streets, his smile was unwavering, a childlike glee etched on his face. The sudden ring of his phone disrupted the serene silence of the car. The device was new, its number known only to his father, which made the incoming call a curiosity. His mind flickered to the luggage he had left behind at the hotel, intended for his old house. The call, he thought, was likely related to that.

The moment he picked up, he regretted it.

“Hello!?”

Shit.

It was Hange. His manager.

How the hell did she get this number?

“It was about damn time, Eren!”

He sighed. He should’ve known they wouldn’t let go of him that easily.

“What do you want, Hange?”

“What do I want? What do I want!?” Her laughter echoed in the car, but it was laced with bitter irony. “Do you have any idea how much time I spent trying to find you? You bailed out on us and left without so much as an explanation!”

“I think I gave enough of an explanation.”

“Oh, yeah, sorry, I forgot about the “I’m done living this life anymore” crap. Sorry if I didn’t believe you after saying it for the hundredth time without actually doing anything about it.”

“You can believe what you want. The reality is, I’m done.”

A brief silence ensued before she spoke again, her voice unusually grave.

“Eren, are you on drugs again?”

He didn’t know why, but it made him laugh, “Actually, for the first time, I’m as sober as can be.” He took a deep breath before speaking again. He had to end this once and for all. “Hange, I’ve talked to my lawyers. I want out of the contract.”

“You can’t do that, Eren. The contract’s not done for another year!”

“Watch me.”

“Eren, where the hell are yo-“

He ended the call before she could finish her sentence.

He recognised the unfairness of his actions. Hange was a good manager, even though he was sure she’d gone nuts after so many years of dealing with him and his band mates. But if he wanted to get his old life back, he had to leave this one behind. For good.

…..

10 years ago

The last day of school. A day that set you free from the tight grasp of constant homework and irritable teachers. A day that also somehow seemed to amplify the pounding in a certain green eyed boy’s heart as he laid next to you on the lush green grass, the school building mere meters behind you, forgotten for the next three months.

Eren thought tenth grade wasn’t like any other grade before it. It was the most fun he’d ever had at school, and the strange thing was, he didn’t even get into that much trouble. Well, if he really got to think about it, he knew there was a reason behind his change. Ever since that rainy day you opened up to each other for the first time, you’d become inseparable. It was so weird - one day, you didn’t even know that much about each other, then the next - he was walking you home and telling you about his dreams. You did, too. About life and your fears and your hopes. Late night conversations had become a regular occurrence, sharing every little thought, like and dislike with each other. And the best thing was, there was no judgement. It was a safe space between you two, a time when the world faded into the background and it was just you and him, baring your souls to one another. There were nights when the topics were deep and introspective, delving into the complexities of life and the future. Others, the conversations were light-hearted and filled with laughter, going into the early hours of the morning.

Sitting together in class, at lunch, and even after school became the norm for both of you. It was as if you were two pieces of a puzzle, blending seamlessly into each other’s lives. Eren found himself looking forward to each day, eager to see your smile and hear your voice. Your presence brought him a sense of comfort and happiness that he had never experienced before. He admired your strength and your ability to see the beauty in even the smallest things. Your passion for life ignited a fire within him, inspiring him to write about subjects he had never thought of before, like.. love.

Eren couldn't deny the growing feelings he had for you, feelings that went beyond friendship. He found himself captivated by your every word, your every smile, and your every touch. The way his heart raced whenever you were near was a clear indication that his emotions had transformed into something deeper. And, as dense as he seemed, he couldn't help but notice the subtle shifts in your interactions as well. The lingering gazes, the gentle brushes of hands, and the way your laughter seemed to fill the air with an extra sparkle whenever he was around.

But, as much as Eren thought he knew what was hidden behind your actions, he couldn't shake the uncertainty that clouded his mind. He questioned whether you actually felt the same way, whether his heart's desires were reciprocated. The fear of jeopardizing the beautiful connection you shared kept him from confessing his feelings outright.

Yet, the last day of school marked a turning point, a moment when Eren decided to seize the opportunity that the summer break presented. He couldn't bear the thought of spending one more day in the dark, hiding his feelings from you without knowing if there was a chance for something more to happen.

As you both laid next to each other, Eren's heart beat like it never had before. He mustered the courage to take your hand in his, intertwining your fingers together. The touch sent a jolt of electricity through his veins, reassuring him that he was on the right path.

With a trembling voice, he turned to you, his heart on his sleeve. "I've been wanting to tell you something," he waited for you to look at him before he continued, trying not to get lost in the pretty hue of your eyes. "This past year with you has been the best time of my life. You've become my best friend and.. so much more.” His mind repeated that he should turn his face away from yours, or else he might burst into flames. Nonetheless, the grip he had on your hand tightened. Go on, you idiot.

“But Y/n, I.. I haven’t been completely honest with you.”

At that, your eyebrows arched, mouth falling slightly agape in confusion. That’s when you really noticed the redness of his cheeks, the vulnerability in his eyes. It was a look you hadn’t seen on his face before.

"Truth is.. I'm in love with you.” There it was, out in the open. He’d done it. There was no turning back now.

Watching your eyes go wide brought him a kind of anxiety his heart couldn’t handle. His hands had been sweating for the past 5 minutes, and he prayed to god you hadn’t noticed. And if he could get a glimpse of what was inside your mind, he’d realise that indeed, you hadn’t noticed, because there was nothing else that could get your attention except for his confession that was heavily hanging in the air.

Your mind replayed the word what, what, what, over and over again, and you thought about pinching yourself to be absolutely sure this was happening. He was in love with you. Eren just confessed he was in love with you. The boy you’d spent ninety percent of your time with, who’d become your best friend, confidant, shoulder to cry on when your dad forgot to call you on your birthday, who’d made you laugh until you had tears prickling your eyes, who’d walked you home every single day after school even though he didn’t have to, who’d given you his lunch when you didn’t bring one yourself. That Eren. YourEren.

The silence had gone on for too long. The green eyed boy felt the need to fill it, hoping he didn’t screw things up beyond repair.

“But I want you to know I understand if you don't feel the same way. Our friendship means a lot to me, and I don't want to jeopardize that."

You blinked a few times at him, your mind racing, trying to comprehend all the emotions swirling within you. You had to say something, even though your breath was caught in your lungs.

“I..”, you began, unsure of where to go. It was your first experience with.. situations like this. And if the person lying beside you was any other boy, it probably would’ve been a lot easier. But this was him. And because of how much he meant to you, it was scarier than you could’ve imagined.

But even though you were scared, you were also thrilled. Because, the fact of the matter was, you were head over heels for this boy.

“Can I tell you something too?” You asked quietly, eyes unconsciously focused on his lips.

“Of course.”

You didn’t even realise when it was you’d leaned in. But you did. With your lips gently caressing his, for the briefest moment. Then back you were, staring once again at those plump, soft lips you’d just kissed.

Eren’s mind struggled to catch up with what just happened, his stare going back and forth between your cherry lips and pretty eyes. The fact that you initiated this kiss, your first kiss, meant that he wasn’t wrong, that there really was something more between you. It was a validation he had desperately hoped for but never expected to receive.

With great effort, he steadied his breathing and met your gaze, bringing his hand to gently cup your cheek. His touch was tender, timid, but filled with warmth and affection.

"I... didn't expect that," Eren stammered, his voice soft and low. "But,” he gulped, eyes traveling down to your cupid’s bow, “I liked it. I really liked it."

Your cheeks flushed pink, a shy smile tugging at your lips. You turned to your side, facing him fully, and placing your own hand on top of his.

“I’m glad.” You whispered, “because… I’ve been falling for you too.”

You could almost feel the relief of his exhale, as if a heavy weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Then a gentle smile, the same one you’d been falling for for the past year, adorned his face. “You have?”

You nodded. “How could I not? Eren, I’ve never thought someone could be so amazing to me.” You leaned in even closer, “I was just scared to admit it because I didn’t want to ruin anything. I was scared there was a chance it was all in my head.”

“Oh, believe me,” Eren rested his forehead against yours, “it’s real. It’s been real for a while now.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, with tiny little butterflies flying around in your stomach and filling your chest with warmth. You couldn’t remember if you’d ever been this happy.

“It was the same with me.” He continued while gently stroking your cheek. “You’ve become such an important part of my life,” the most important, he thought, “that I was terrified I’d screw it all up if I confessed. But trust me, it was freaking torture wondering if you felt the same way. I couldn’t bare the thought of losing you if you didn’t.”

You shook your head, “You could never lose me, Eren. Even if that was the case, which obviously isn’t, I would’ve still been your friend. I’ll always be there for you.”

Eren’s eyes softened. You truly were amazing. “And I’ll always be there for you.”

You stayed like that for a few seconds, staring into each other’s eyes, losing yourselves in them. And then, Eren decided to spontaneously lay a quick kiss on your nose. A spark of joy ignited within you, with your laughter bubbling up, filling the air with its infectious sound.

Eren’s eyes twinkled with delight, “That’s my favourite sound.”

“You always know how to pull it out of me. Even when I don’t want to.”

The moment the sentence was over, Eren couldn’t wait any longer. His hands gently cradled your face, like he was holding the most precious thing in the world. Then he quickly caught your lips in a soft, but passionate kiss, one that was filled with longing, a testament of how long he’d waited to do this. It took every last breath you had. When the kiss ended, you stayed close, your noses barely brushing against each other.

“I’ll make sure you always do.”

…..

Today

4:30. That was what the clock showed when he woke up with tears in his eyes.

He brought his hand to his cheek, feeling the dampness of his skin. Just when he thought he finally got used to it. The painful reminder that even when he was asleep, the ache of missing you still lingered, refusing to fade away.

The memories, so many of them turned dreams, ones that haunted him every night or so, were as real as he could remember. Your face was still as pretty, but your eyes were brighter then. In his dreams, he saw those eyes and the way they sparkled whenever he would gaze at them.

In those dreams, he could almost feel the warmth of your touch, the tenderness of your embrace. They were bittersweet, bringing temporary solace among the daily torment. A cruel reminder of what he had lost, yet they also offered a fleeting respite from the harsh reality of your absence.

But then he remembered. In a couple of hours, he would see you. His sleepy mind had forgotten to remind him of that, that it wasn’t all lost. That even though he wouldn’t get to hug or kiss you, at least he’d get to see you. Hear your voice. He wasn’t a 1000 kilometres away from you anymore, just a few streets.

He sat up in his bed, his dream still fresh in front of his eyes. He leaned against the cupboard and looked up at the ceiling. Did you, too, have dreams like this? He wondered if there were nights where you’d woken up with tears brimming eyes, searching for him while he was god knows where. It tugged at his heart, his fists clenching. He was sure nights like this were a regular occurrence for you after he left. And while you were pregnant..

He slammed his fist into the mattress and closed his eyes shut. He should’ve been there to wipe them, kiss them away, to help you, to love you. But he wasn’t.

“One step at a time, Eren.” His whisper echoed through the room. He had to talk himself out of the self-loathing, out of the guilt that was threatening to consume him if he took one wrong step. He had to believe things could get better.

He got up from his bed and walked to the window, pulling the curtains aside. The city was still asleep, the street lights casting a soft glow on the quiet roads. He took a deep breath, the cold air filling his lungs. He knew it was futile to try and fall asleep again, so instead, his mind began racing with all the possible outcomes of your impending conversation. His heart pounded in his chest as he thought about the words he would say, the apologies he would make. Would you accept them? Would you believe that he was sincere? Or would you turn him away, the pain of his absence still too fresh? He didn’t know any of these things except one that was for sure. He had a long day ahead of him.

…..

“Rise and shine, mama!” A certain cheerful voice rang in your ear. You opened your eyes to see your little girl jumping on your bed, her hair a mess, eyes wide and sparkling, like they always were. You smiled at her, pulling her instantly into a warm embrace.

“Good morning sweetheart,” you murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Lily giggled, wrapping her small hands around your neck, “did you sleep okay?”

“Mhmm,” she nodded her head a couple of times, “I dreamt I was a princess and I had a whole castle allll for myself!”

Your laughter filled the air, “Well, that’s not far from the truth.” You scooped her up into your arms and got out of bed, making your way to her room.

“Tell you what, you make your bed and brush your teeth and I’ll make you some special princess pancakes, okay?”

When you let her down, she rose her tiny thumb up, her face determined, and you had to put your palm in front of your mouth to keep your chuckle in. She was just too cute.

“I want them pink!”

“You got it!”

You turned on your heel, trying to remember where you put the pink food coloring with strawberry flavor you bought for her. You prepared the batter, now being an expert at making quick breakfasts, all the while smiling at your daughter’s excitement. Life was just fuller with her in it.

Lily, having diligently made her bed and brushed her teeth, came running to your side, her eyes fixated on the bowl of pink batter. She bounced on her toes, "Mama, they're going to be the prettiest pancakes ever!"

“They just might.” You gave her a wink and a playful nudge, “But only if her majesty helped me mix the batter.”

Her face lit up at the prospect of helping you, and she eagerly grabbed the wooden spoon you offered her. You held the bowl steady as she stirred, her tongue poking out in concentration.

"Good job, your highness," you praised, ruffling her hair. "Now, let's get these pancakes cooking."

As the pancakes sizzled on the pan, filling the kitchen with a delicious aroma, you took a quick detour to the bathroom to wash your face and brush your teeth. When you returned, your heart swelled at the sight before you. There was Lily, perched precariously on a kitchen chair, carefully flipping the pancakes with a look of intense concentration on her face.

You really are growing up so fast, you thought. It was a thought that filled you with a profound sense of awe and a hint of melancholy. Your little girl was blossoming before your eyes, and while it was a beautiful sight, it was also a poignant reminder of how fleeting these moments truly were.

As you sat at the table, your attention focused on Lily, her excitement about starting school next week bubbling over in a stream of endless chatter while she ate her pink pancakes, your eyes filled with nothing but love for her. Until you unconsciously glanced to your right, at the chair that remained perpetually empty, and it stirred a pang in your heart. It was a void that has existed ever since she came into your world.

Despite her cheerful demeanor, you knew she was aware that things weren't quite as they should be. You saw it in the wistful look that crossed her face when she saw a child perched high on their father's shoulders. It was there in the longing in her eyes when she watched movies featuring families gathered around the dinner table, laughing and sharing their day. And it was painfully evident in the park, when she'd watch a mother and father swinging their child between them, their laughter echoing in the air.

Yes, your daughter was a happy child, full of life and joy. But there was a part of her world that was incomplete, a piece of the puzzle missing.

What should I do?

It was a question nobody could give an answer to except you. Confusion settled inside your mind like a heavy fog, and you found yourself grappling with a myriad of emotions. But then again, Eren had that kind of effect.

Just talk to him, you repeated to yourself, the words becoming a mantra that guided your resolve. You knew deep down that having a conversation with him was necessary, for your daughter’s sake at least. After all, you had faced and overcome numerous challenges in your life, and this was just another hurdle to navigate. Facing it was the only way to move forward.

One step at a time.

…..

With his third cup of coffee for the day clutched tightly in his hand, Eren couldn't help but notice the slight tremor that had begun to take hold. Perhaps it was the caffeine, or maybe it was the fact that in half an hour, he’d be meeting you. He strolled past the town's library, one hand buried deep in his pocket, the other cradling the diminutive cup of warmth. He observed the streets with an almost alien curiosity, taking in the sights as if for the first time.

This was his first venture into town, a decision his mind tried to dissuade him from, haunted by the prospect of getting recognised and the inevitable gossip that would follow. But he yearned for a taste of normalcy, a fleeting moment of being just another face in the crowd, despite his life being anything but ordinary. So, he ditched his car, and sauntered along the familiar, yet strangely new streets.

Eren was riddled with nerves at the prospect of talking to you, yet when he allowed himself to truly contemplate it, he realized his anticipation outweighed his anxiety. This was it, the moment he’d been waiting for, finally taking place. There was no room for screw ups.

But then again, as much as he pondered on it, he wasn’t quite sure what kind of apology would soften the sternness in your eyes every time you looked at him. I’m sorry for leaving for 7 years and making you gather the pieces.. no, that wasn’t it. I’m the biggest scumbag on the face of the earth. That seemed more fitting.

His thoughts then wandered to Lily. What was she doing at this moment? Did she enjoy drawing? Had she mastered riding a bike? Did she have a favourite sport? A favourite toy? Food? Movie?

He desperately wanted to know the answers to those questions, but he also feared the disappointment that might come with them. He had missed out on so much of her life, and he knew he could never make up for lost time. She looked like such a joyful kid, too.. The last thing he wanted was to screw that up.

The weight of his thoughts and the ticking clock in his mind seemed to drag his steps, making the short distance to your meeting place feel like a marathon. He was seconds from facing the music, facing you, facing the last 7 years.

The bell above the cafe door jingled as he pushed the open, the familiar sound sending a rush of nostalgia through him. This was a place you used to come after school along with your friends, a sanctuary for playing cards, laughing, making plans, escaping the world. Now, it sort of felt like a battleground, the setting for a confrontation that was years in the making.

He scanned the room, wondering if you’d showed up even though he was 20 minutes early, his heart pounding. Then one last glance at the far end table and there you were, sitting in a corner, your hands wrapped around a cup of coffee. When your eyes met his, he could see the wariness in them, the hardened resolve. You looked like you were prepared for this, for whatever he had to say.

He walked over to your table, his steps slow and measured. People were talking around him but it was like he couldn’t hear anything, like everything was silent. The only thing he actually could hear was the rapid beating of his heart as he reached the table and took the seat across from you. His hands trembled slightly as he placed them on the table.

“I thought I was going to be early.” He said, an anxious smile crossing his lips.

“I wanted to get it over with.” The truth was, you didn’t mean to sound so rude. Maybe it was the nerves, but you didn’t intend for your words to be laced with so much iciness. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“No, I get it.” He interjected, trying to sound unaffected, even though your words were like needles to his heart. “Thank you again. For meeting me.”

You nodded once, realizing how hard it was going to be to look him in the eyes. Breathe, your mind repeated. Just breathe. “I meant to ask yesterday. What’s wrong with your eye?”

Shit, he thought. He’d bought concealer yesterday to cover it, but your question meant he didn’t do a good job. No point in lying. “Met Jean the other day. I guess he didn’t miss me much.”

You looked down at your coffee mug, shaking your head. This was just too typical of them. “So.. what did you want to talk about?”

That I miss you so fucking much.

But he couldn’t say that. So, the next most important thing was, “I’m sorry.” He looked you straight in the eyes. “I’m deeply sorry for everything I’ve done to you-“

“I don’t need your apologies, Eren.” You stopped him in his tracks, causing his eyes to widen, “Really, just- don’t.” Your tone suggested no further arguing about it. Eren couldn’t decide which hurt more - the numbness in your voice or the disappointment in your eyes.

“Just tell me what you want.”

As much as it pained him, Eren knew this would most probably be the outcome. He expected his apologies to fall on deaf ears, even though he so desperately wanted, needed, to convince you how sorry he was. But he also needed to thread carefully.

“I.. know this is going to be too sudden for you,” he began, his eyes settled on a tiny drop of coffee on the wooden table, too overwhelmed to look at your face, “but the reason I wanted to talk is because,” spit it out, Eren, “I want to be a part of Lily’s life.”

Silence. Not a word, not a breath. Nothing.

When Eren looked up to catch your expression, he saw a medley of emotions on your face. Surprise, confusion.. maybe even a hint of anger. You took a moment to process his words, that felt like forever to the man sitting in front of you.

“I’m- I’m going to live here from now on, and I want to help you with whatever I can.” He added, trying to convey his sincerity.

You continued to stare at him, your features becoming unreadable. A deep sigh escaped your lips, and you craned your neck to look up at the ceiling. Then you moved your eyes towards him, gripping your cup tightly, “Eren.. Lily has a stable life. I can’t risk you ruining that. I’m sorry.”

The finality of your words made Eren’s heart sink to his stomach. But one thing about him was, he wasn’t giving up without a fight. “Okay, I deserve that. But.. are we just going to pretend like we don’t know each other? Are we going to just pass each other by?”

He struck a nerve.

“You pretended like I never existed and left. So, you tell me.”

Your words hit him like a punch in the gut. One that was long overdue.

“Y/n.. I can’t express to you how much I regret everything that happened back then. And even though you probably won’t believe it, if I had known about Lily, I-“

“So you needed to know about her so you could acknowledge me? Is that it?”

You had a counter for everything he said, and his words only further fuelled the slowly-bubbling anger within you. All the hurt, the betrayal, everything you had felt for so long was resurfacing, even though internally you were fighting to stop it. With much effort, you decided to try and collect yourself. You weren’t going to let him see you lash out.

“Eren, look.. I can’t let her be near a person who can walk away from his responsibilities with the snap of his fingers. This is my daughter and I don’t want her to get hurt.”

“She’s my daughter, too.” The words left a burning feeling in his throat, because he knew he shouldn’t have said that.

“I’m sorry?” The disbelief in your voice was palpable. His daughter? He wanted to be responsible all of a sudden?

“Look, if- if you don’t want me to spend time with her, I won’t put pressure on it. Just let me help with things. I can give you money, I can support you-“

“Money? You think we need your money?” You let out a disbelieving laugh, then quickly gathered your jacket, getting ready to leave. “This is ridiculous.”

“No, wait, please.” Eren reached out, grabbing you by the hand. The contact made you jolt, freezing in place. When you looked up, you were met by his desperate eyes. You stared at them, at the two green orbs he shared with you daughter, and you hated how for the slightest moment, you actually felt bad for him.

“I didn’t meant to sound so forward, I just.. I don’t know how to approach this.”

After a long silence, you pulled your hand away, not harshly, but firmly, and sat back into your seat. “Well, let me help you then. Just don’t approach it at all. Leave it be. It’s been years, and maybe things should be left alone as they are.”

Eren’s face fell. He should’ve expected that, but it still hurt more than he anticipated.

“Y/n, you can’t ask that of me.”

Your hands were shaking. You thought you were ready for this, but now that it was actually happening, you weren’t so sure anymore.

“Okay. What do I tell her? Hm? Hey, baby. I know you’ve always wondered who your dad is, and I know you haven’t ever met him, but the other day we bumped into him at the store, and now he wants us to be one big, happy family. Does that sound good?”

Eren winced at your words, the harsh reality of the situation hitting him like a truck. It was like he was in a maze that he was desperately trying to find the right path to, but that always ended in failure.

“You don’t get it, do you? You’re going to stir up her life. I can’t let you do that.”

“I know it’ll be hard.” He began quietly, “I also know it’s not fair to put all that pressure on you. The last thing I want is to make your lives harder. I want the opposite.”

“Good. Then it’s better if you stay away.” You were talking to hurt him now, and you knew it. “Anyway, you say you’re going to live here from now on. Why? How is your celebrity life going to fit in a small place like this?”

His answer was instantaneous, “I’m done with all that.”

A few moments were needed for you to process his words. “Oh. Oh, okay. You’re done with it. And now you think you can just causally stroll back in here like the last years didn’t happen?”

“No, I- listen, it’s not like that-“

“Then how is it, Eren?“

You noticed a few heads turning towards your table, realizing you’d been raising your voice. It was clear that emotions were running high for both of you, and you were aware that wouldn’t amount to anything good. Eren was hunched forward on the table, almost like a little kid seeking some kind of comfort.

“I couldn’t live like that anymore. I needed to come home.” His voice was so low, you barely heard it. Then he rose his head up, his eyes pleading, begging for you to believe him, “I swear, it’s been like that for a while. It’s just- it’s not that easy to get away from it. I did, though. It’s over.”

You leaned your head on your hands, and closed your eyes shut. Thousands of emotions threatened to swallow you whole. You took in everything he said and tried to make sense of it. But how do you trust someone who left you like you meant nothing and never looked back? You couldn’t let that happen to Lily. You’d rather anything else than letting someone hurt her that way.

“How do I know that you won’t go on tour and not come back for the next 7 years?”

“If I do that, you can always send Jean or my dad my way. I bet they’ll be real happy to put an end to me.”

“You think this is funny?”

Eren shook his head. “I am done. I was miserable leading that life. It’s over, Y/n. Truly.”

Silence enveloped the space between you and Eren as he could see the confusion etched on your face. A fraction of him held onto the hope that there was the tiniest chance you were considering giving him a shot.

“I just want to get to know her. That’s all I want.” He added, searching for your eyes that were settled on your coffee cup. “It’ll all be on your terms. Whatever you say, that’s what’s going to happen.”

Still silent, you lifted your gaze to meet Eren’s eyes. Oh, how you wanted to believe him. How you wanted to be sure that this man in front of you was someone you could trust with the most precious thing in your life. How you wanted to see the change behind his desperate eyes.

“What do you think?” He probed, his heart on the verge of exploding.

“I don’t know.” Your voice wavered, “I don’t know if I can trust you.”

“Tell me what I need to do, and I’ll do it.”

Then, you saw it. It was like transporting back in time. A glimpse of the boy you fell in love with all those years ago, sitting in front of you, ready to do whatever it took to make it right. It was the look in his eyes, the determination, that almost caught you off guard.

You swallowed thickly, it all becoming too much, “I have to get back to work.”

Quickly, you rose up from your seat, and began rummaging through your purse in search for your wallet.

“No, please, let me.” Eren stood up, reaching to stop you.

You avoided his touch like it would burn you. “I can take care of myself.” You threw some money on the table without counting, wanting to leave before the tears started spilling.

Eren watched helplessly, a storm inside him, one that couldn’t let him decide what to do. Trying to think under the pressure of you leaving, he reached out inside his pocket and gathered a small piece of paper.

“This is my new number.” He held it out to you. “Please, just promise me you’ll consider it.”

His hand hovered in the air between you as you hesitated. You were conflicted, but in the end, you decided to take it. Even if you didn’t call him, leaving him here completely hopeless wasn’t like you. At the end of the day, if it wasn’t for him, you wouldn’t have had Lily. Despite all the hurt and confusion that lingered between the two of you, you couldn't deny the impact he had on your life.

With a heavy sigh, you nodded at Eren, taking the tiny piece of paper in your hand.

Eren's eyes softened, a glimmer of hope shining through his inner storm. In a moments time you were out the door, leaving only the sound of the ringing bell behind you. He stared at your reflection through the window, every inch of his body wanting to chase after you, but his mind knew he shouldn’t. It was all in your hands now. Taking his number indicated a crack in the door, a silver of possibility, but he knew that the slightest pressure could slam the door shut again. So, he just stood still. Helplessness was his only companion for the moment.

…..

Summer, 10 years ago

You’d never actually gone to Eren’s house before. You’d only been to his backyard, having sneaked out one night and stargazed on the grass Mr. Jaeger had freshly moaned, where Eren intertwined your fingers for the first time. You’d spent an hour looking at the stars and thinking of goofy names for the constellations you could barely recognize, giggling every time one of you came up with something particularly silly. He then took you home on his bike, and helped you up the flower ladder that led to your room. If only you’d known how much he wanted to kiss you, even then.

What had changed between then and now was that he had confessed his love for you, which had given you the courage to do the same.

That day, he kissed you on your porch after taking you home like he usually did. It was a long, soft kiss, with his hands cradling your face, a kiss that made your knees wobble and your breath hitch in your throat. You fell asleep thinking about it, about all of it. There was this euphoria that wouldn’t let your smile fade, nor your mind rest. You woke up the next day to a text from him.

Eren💚

“Good morning, beautiful.”

You couldn’t stop your grin from spreading across your face. You pressed your phone against your chest, sighing with content. As you laid there, the morning light filtering through your curtains, you felt a warmth that wasn't just from the sun's rays. It was the warmth of him thinking about you at 8a.m. You typed a response, your fingers dancing across the screen with the same lightness that filled your heart.

“Good morning..❤️ did you sleep okay?”

You hit send, and almost immediately, the little dots that signaled Eren was typing appeared. The anticipation bubbled inside you, a pleasant fizz of excitement that made you sit up in bed, clutching the phone even tighter.

Eren💚

“Didn’t sleep much tbh. Couldn’t stop thinking about yesterday.”

You couldn't help but feel a flutter in your chest at his words. You wanted to say so much, to tell him that he had been in your dreams all night, that the thought of him made the morning seem brighter, but you settled for a response that conveyed your feelings without overwhelming him.

“Me too.. It was the best day I’ve had in a long time.”

You were restless to see his response, watching the screen in anticipation, the seconds of him typing passing like hours in your mind.

Eren💚

“It was the best day I’ve ever had.”

Your heart skipped a beat. Best day he’s ever had. You wanted to write that too but didn’t want to appear too forward. Turns out he was braver than you, which wasn’t a shocker at all.

Eren💚

“I really want to see you. Take you for breakfast?”

Was this how things were going to be from now on? Were you going to be so giddy and excited every time he messaged you? The thought made you smile even wider, and you couldn't type your response fast enough.

“I’d love that. What time should I be ready?”

Then, your phone rang. It was him. Your heart was beating faster than it ever had before. You had to repeat to yourself that this was still your best friend, the boy you’d shared your deepest thoughts and dreams with. But now.. he was something more, and that change seemed to turn you into a person you’d never thought you’d become. That made you nervous but also.. so, so happy.

You quickly picked up, voice timid but filled with warmth, “Hey.”

“Hello, pretty girl.” He was going to be the end of you with those nicknames. “Could you look outside your window for me?”

You blinked a few times, taking you a second to comprehend what he was saying before you jumped out of your bed and ran to your window. There, on the street below, was Eren. He was leaning against his bicycle, phone to his ear, and looking up at your window with that familiar, heart-melting grin.

You couldn't help but laugh, surprise and delight bubbling up inside you. "Eren! What are you doing here so early?" you asked, still holding the phone to your ear, though you were now speaking to him both through the window and the call.

"I wanted to surprise you," he said, his voice coming through the phone and faintly from the street below. "How about we start with that breakfast I mentioned? I couldn't wait until lunch."

Your heart did a somersault. "Give me five minutes!" you exclaimed, already thinking about what you could throw on quickly. You didn't want to keep him waiting.

"Take your time. I'll be right here," he replied, his tone patient and kind.

You ended the call, a smile plastered on your face as you hurried to get ready. You brushed your hair, found your favorite comfortable jeans and a t-shirt, and grabbed a light jacket. After a quick glance in the mirror, you dashed downstairs, your heart pounding with the anticipation of the day ahead. Your mother was in the kitchen, and you faintly heard her ask you where you were going so early.

“Eren and I are having breakfast!” You replied before you opened the front door. When he saw you, Eren pushed off from his bike and walked towards your front door. His eyes were bright, and the morning sun gave his hair a golden hue. "Good morning, for real this time," he said, his voice warm and inviting. He looked so.. ugh, he was the most beautiful boy you’d ever seen. He was wearing a pastel green shirt that made his eyes pop, and his smile was infectious as ever.

“Good morning..” you sounded shyer than you intended, but that seemed to steal another grin from Eren’s handsome face.

“You’re so cute.” He caught your face in his hands and planted a soft kiss on your lips. Your cheeks immediately flushed, and to your dismay, Eren noticed instantly, letting out a loud chuckle. “Are you blushing?”

You looked down at your feet, then hid your head in the crook of his neck. “Shut up..”

Eren laughed again, then brought you back to look him in the eyes, “Y/n, it’s still me, you know.”

“I know that!” You exclaimed, “it’s just.. I’m not used to this yet.”

Eren crooked an eyebrow, trying to hide his smile. “Mhm. You seemed to get used to it pretty quickly yesterday.”

“Oh, shush!” You wrapped your arms around him, and you felt his lips press against your hair.

“We should get going if we want to beat the breakfast rush.”

…..

Daisy’s cafe was as full as you’d expect for a Saturday morning. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the sound of light chatter filled the air, welcoming you into its embrace. You found a small table near the window, the perfect spot to enjoy the morning sun. Eren ordered your favorite chocolate chip pancakes without even asking you, the gesture making your heart full. When they came along with the other things you’d ordered, the green-eyed boy watched with an amused expression as you drizzled syrup over the stack, the rich, sweet aroma mingling with the coffee's robust scent.

And then, without any warning, “My mom wants to meet you.”

You almost choked on your first bite. This was unexpected to say the least. Not because of anything else, but because you’d never met his mom before, and you knew about her.. condition. Eren had confided in you about her declining health, but conversations about it were rare, his discomfort in discussing it understandable.

Eren's expression softened, and he reached across the table to take your hand. "Yeah, she's been asking about you," he said gently. "She wants to meet the girl who's captured her son's heart."

Your heart swelled, then you took his hand in yours as well. "Of course, I'd love to meet her," you replied, your voice steady despite the nerves that suddenly fluttered in your stomach. "Whenever you think it's the right time."

“I think it would mean a lot to her, and to me. My dad would be stoked to meet you, too."

You nodded, smiling. The thought of meeting his parents, his mom, especially given her health, felt like a big step.

“We could go today, actually. After breakfast, if that’s okay with you.”

The invitation caught you off guard, but you saw the earnestness in Eren's eyes. This was important to him, and therefore, it was important to you as well.

"Today?" you echoed, giving his hand a gentle squeeze back. The suddenness of the plan made you nervous, but the idea of putting it off didn't feel right either. "Yes, of course. I want to meet them too."

Eren's face lit up with relief. "Great!", he said, his voice filled with excitement that made you happy. "I was talking about you all night yesterday. They’re already in love with you.”

He’d been talking about you. You wanted to jump into his arms right this second. “I hope I live up to their expectations.”

He laughed softly, the sound easing the tension that had built up at the thought of the meeting. "You will. They're going to see what I see in you."

You finished your breakfast, chatting about little things to ease the nerves. Eren told you a bit more about his parents, his childhood memories, and what you might expect. It was comforting to hear him talk so fondly of his family, and it made you even more eager to meet them.

“But Eren, I need to change! I want to look more presentable-“

He reached across the table to put his finger in front of your mouth.

“You’re perfect, okay?”

It was just like him to reassure you in such a direct and heartfelt way. You smiled against his finger, and he reciprocated it.

“Okay, I trust you.”

After breakfast, you hopped on his bicycle, your arms circling his stomach, that was as hard as a rock, and he took off down the street. The ride was relaxing, your head resting against his back, eyes closed, letting yourself feel the summer breeze. As you held onto him, you could feel the muscles in his abdomen flex with each pedal stroke. The air was fresh and crisp, and the gentle rush of the wind against your face was invigorating.

The streets were familiar, yet they seemed different from this perspective, the perspective of your newfound relationship. Everything was more alive and vibrant. You watched as the neighborhood passed by, children playing on the sidewalks, dogs barking in the yards, and the everyday life of the community unfolding around you.

Then, you remembered. The flower farm you worked at was just a few blocks away from Eren’s house, and an idea formed in your mind.

“Hey, stop there.”

Eren glanced over his shoulder, following your gaze to the flower farm. He slowed down and pulled over to the side of the road, coming to a stop. "Here?"

You nodded, dismounting from the bicycle. "Yes, I just thought... maybe I could bring a bouquet for your mom. It's the least I can do, considering she's inviting me into her home."

"That's a really sweet idea," Eren said, his eyes softening. It was moments like this that cemented in his mind why he’d fallen so hard for you. You were just so kind, so thoughtful.. beautiful inside and out. “I’ll wait for you here.”

You quickly made your way into the flower farm, greeted by the familiar scents and colors that always brought you comfort. You selected a few of your favorite blooms, arranging them into a bouquet with care and attention. The colors were vibrant, and you hoped they would bring a smile to Eren's mother's face.

Returning to where Eren waited, you showed him the bouquet. "What do you think?"

"It's beautiful," he said, genuinely impressed. "She's going to love it."

As you approached his parents' house, your heart began to beat a little faster, but you tried to remain calm. When you came to a stop, Eren helped you off the bicycle, his hands steady and warm. You took a moment to compose yourself, smoothing out your clothes and running your fingers through your hair to tame it from the ride.

"Ready?" Eren asked, searching your face for any sign of hesitation.

You nodded, feeling a surge of courage. "Ready.”

Eren led you up the path to the front door, and before he could ring the bell, he looked at you one last time. "Hey," he said, his eyes searching yours. "No matter what, I'm here, okay? And they're going to love you. I know it."

You nodded, squeezing his arm. He rang the bell, and within moments, the door swung open to reveal his mom. Carla Jaeger. The resemblance between mother and son was striking; Eren had inherited her whole face, her eyes and the same kind expression that made you feel instantly at ease.

She gasped when she saw the two of you, and her eyes shone like two beautiful jewels.

“Oh wow. Eren, you didn’t tell me she was that pretty!”

The compliment sent a rush of color to your cheeks, and without thinking, you found yourself drawing closer to Eren, seeking a subtle comfort in his presence. His arm, strong and reassuring, seemed to naturally wrap around you, as if to silently say, 'I've got you.'

“Mom, this is Y/n.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, mrs. Jaeger.” You extended your hand for a handshake, and she took it instantly, holding it with her two frail hands. Her eyes sparkled with delight as she stepped aside to let you both in. "Please, call me Carla," she insisted warmly. "Mrs. Jaeger makes me sound far too formal. You of all people should be able to call me by my first name."

"Thank you, Carla," you replied, appreciating the gesture of intimacy. It was a small thing, but it spoke volumes about her character and how she viewed your relationship with her son. “Eren told me that you loved flowers.”

You extended the bouquet towards her, and her eyes immediately lit up with appreciation. "They’re beautiful, thank you so much," she inspected them thoroughly. "You have a wonderful eye for arrangements. I'll put these in water," Carla said, already moving towards the kitchen. "Please, make yourself at home."

The house was filled with the pleasant hum of a home well-lived in. The walls were adorned with family photos, and the shelves held an array of knick-knacks and books that gave the space a personal touch. It was a home that was clearly cherished, a place where memories were made and treasured.

As Carla led you through the house, Eren stayed close, his hand occasionally brushing against yours in a silent show of support. You could feel his gaze on you from time to time, checking to make sure you were comfortable. She led you to the kitchen, where the aroma of blueberry muffins filled the air. You couldn’t not notice the beautiful vase filled with white lilies, a throwback to your first conversation with Eren.

“Sit yourselves down, I’ll make some coffee. Actually, Y/n, do you drink coffee or tea?”

“Tea would be great, thank you.”

Carla nodded and smiled, moving gracefully around the kitchen to prepare the beverages. "Tea it is," she said. "We have a few different kinds. Any preference?"

As she busied herself with the kettle and the tea selection, Eren pulled out a chair for you at the kitchen table. The domestic scene was heartwarming, and you felt a sense of inclusion. Eren took the seat next to you as Carla placed a steaming mug of tea on the table, along with a small plate of muffins. "Help yourself to the muffins," she encouraged. "I baked them this morning. They're Eren's favorite."

You thanked her and took a muffin, noticing the way Eren's eyes lit up with childlike excitement at the prospect of his mother's homemade treats.

“Well, look who it is.” A male voice filled the room, and you turned to the door to see Mr. Jaeger put his keys on the kitchen counter, his smile on display. “You must be Y/n.”

“It’s nice to meet you, sir.” You stood up to shake his hand, and he gave you a friendly shake.

“There are no “sirs” around here. You can call me Grisha.” He tapped his son on the shoulder, “Eren’s been telling us so much about you.”

“Only good things, I hope.” You gave a nervous laugh.

“The best.” He winked down at his son and Eren shook his head, smiling.

Grisha's easygoing demeanor and the playful interaction between him and Eren helped to further ease any lingering nerves you might have had. The atmosphere in the Jaeger household was one of warmth and joviality, and it was clear that humor and affection were the foundations of their family life.

As Grisha joined the table, Carla brought over another mug for him, and the family settled into a comfortable routine, as if you had always been a part of it.

“Now, do tell us, how did our boy succeed in stealing your heart?”

“Dad!” Eren's protest was half-hearted, his cheeks tinged with a hint of red as his father posed the question that hung in the air, a mix of curiosity and gentle teasing. Grisha's eyes twinkled with mirth, and it was clear that he was enjoying the moment, eager to hear the story from your perspective.

You glanced at Eren, who gave you a small nod, his embarrassment giving way to a look of affection. It was your cue to share the tale, and you took a deep breath, ready to recount the story that had become a cherished memory for both of you.

"Well," you began, a smile spreading across your face as you recalled the details, "it all started in detention, actually."

“Oh, that’s gotta be interesting!”

Grisha's interest was piqued, and Carla leaned in with a look of amused anticipation. Even Eren seemed to settle in, ready to hear your version of the story, despite knowing it all too well.

"Yes, detention," you continued, the smile never leaving your face. "We were both there for completely different reasons. I had accidentally fallen asleep during class, and Eren..."

You looked at him, unsure if you should say the reason for him being there. He looked at his parents, only saying, “Jean."

They both nodded, with Carla rolling her eyes, which led you to believe they were familiar with their antics.

You continued, “Well, I was reading my book when he came up to me, and we started talking. He was interested in it and wanted me to tell him about the story.”

“Can I confess something?” Eren chimed in, “I was more interested in you.”

You playfully nudged him with your shoulder, “You don’t say. Anyway, it was just the two of us, so we came up with a plan and decided to..” you stopped again, biting your lip, realising where the story was going, and the consequences that followed right after.

“Wait, is this about the time Eren locked that grumpy teacher inside his classroom?”

You froze in place, thinking maybe this wasn’t the best story to tell his parents the first time you meet them. Given the fact you were both suspended for an entire week after that, it was probably not the best idea.

“Ugh, I can’t stand that little man!” Carla exclaimed, her previous amusement giving way to a hint of exasperation and a rebellious twinkle in her eye. "Always so sour. I'm not saying I condone what you two did, but I can't say I'm entirely surprised."

You let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding, relieved by Carla's reaction. Eren gave you a reassuring look, squeezing your hand gently under the table as if to say, "See, it's okay."

“He’d tried to embarrass Y/n earlier that day. Couldn’t let that one slide.” Eren intercepted, and Grisha let out a laugh.

“Sounds like our boy, alright. Looks like you’ve got quite the knight in shining armour, Y/n.”

You couldn't help but blush at Grisha's comment. Eren's protective nature was one of the things that had drawn you to him in the first place, and it was clear his parents recognized this trait in him too.

"I guess I do," you replied with a smile, looking over at Eren, who was trying to hide his own reddening cheeks.

Eren, recovering from his moment of shyness, added with a playful grin, "Well, I can't have anyone messing with my partner in crime, can I?"

Carla shook her head with a smile, clearly amused by the banter. "Just make sure you two don't end up in actual armor, okay? I don't think I could handle bailing you out of the school dungeon."

The table erupted into laughter, the atmosphere light and full of familial warmth. Then, mrs. Jaeger started coughing, and not the kind of cough a flu could bring. It was long, and the laughter around the table faltered as her coughing grew more severe, her hand coming up to her chest as she tried to catch her breath. The jovial mood quickly shifted to one of concern. Grisha was by her side in an instant, his hand on her back, his expression a mix of worry and calm as he tried to help her through it.

"Hey, it’s okay, it’s okay." Grisha said, his voice steady but tinged with urgency.

Eren was on his feet now, his earlier embarrassment forgotten as he focused on his mother. "Mom, should I get your inhaler?" he asked, ready to spring into action.

Carla managed to nod between coughs, and Eren didn't hesitate. He dashed off into the house as you stood up as well, feeling a bit helpless but wanting to offer support in any way you could.

"It's okay, dear," Carla said between coughs, trying to reassure you and Grisha, though her voice was strained. "This happens sometimes. Just need my inhaler."

Eren returned quickly, out of breath but with the inhaler in hand. He passed it to his mother, who took a deep puff, holding it in before exhaling slowly. After a few moments and a couple more puffs, her coughing began to subside, and her breathing evened out.

"I'm sorry for the scare," Carla said, her voice still a bit weak but steadier now. "I've been dealing with this for a while. Some days are better than others."

Grisha gave her a soft smile, his eyes full of love. "The important thing is that you're okay now," he said.

Eren sat back down, the worry slowly leaving his face as he saw his mother recovering. "Yeah, Mom, you've got to take it easy," he said, the protective nature you admired so much shining through once again.

She waved her son off, “I’m fine, I’m fine.” She then turned to give you a soft smile, “I’m really glad we finally got to meet you, Y/n. Eren’s been different ever since you came into his life. No more going to the principal’s every week or so. You seem to have a good impact on him.”

You exchanged a look with her, one that truly conveyed her gratitude.

Eren smiled, his eyes now on you, “She keeps me in line.”

“Well, he’s been there for me, too. In more ways than one.” Your hand lingered on top of his, and you felt the incredible need to kiss him, but you knew now was not the right time.

Grisha, ever the observer, raised his mug in a mock toast. "To keeping each other in line, then," he said with a chuckle. "Sounds like the secret to a good partnership."

“It does, doesn’t it?” Carla looked at her husband, her eyes shining with fondness and gentle ribbing. "You could let loose from time to time, you know. Life is not only about balance. Sometimes, a little mess is good."

Grisha's eyes met Carla's, and he gave a mock sigh of resignation. "I suppose you're right," he conceded with a playful roll of his eyes. "A little mess never hurt anyone. It's the spice of life, I guess."

Eren watched the exchange with a smile, clearly enjoying the banter between his parents. It was evident that their relationship was built on a strong foundation of love and mutual respect, peppered with the ability to laugh and tease one another.

You couldn't help but smile at the scene before you, feeling a sense of inclusion. The Jaegers were.. they were what truly family was all about. Their ability to embrace life's imperfections, to find humor in the chaos, and to support one another through it all was inspiring. It was a reminder that family wasn’t about being perfect; it was about being there for each other, through the mess and the triumphs alike.

“I think I’m going to start on lunch.” Carla said, but before she could start rummaging through the kitchen drawers, her husband stopped her in her tracks.

“I’m making lunch. You sit down and rest.” He gave her a quick peck on the forehead, then turned to Eren, “Come help me start the barbecue, son.”

Eren kissed your cheek, then got on his feet and followed his father to the backyard. They had a big yard, and it was a sunny day, a perfect time for a barbecue.

As you watched Eren and his dad prepare the grill, the way they moved with an easy familiarity, it was clear that this was a ritual they had shared many times before. The clinking of the tools and the crackling of the fire blended with the sounds of nature in the Jaegers' backyard, creating a symphony of domestic bliss.

Mrs. Jaeger watched as well, with a genuine smile on her face, and yet.. you could sense the sadness in her eyes, a mother's concern that never fully fades even in moments of joy. It was a look that spoke volumes about the love she had for her family and the silent strength she carried within her. She was a beautiful, but frail woman, her big sweater doing nothing to conceal the fragility that seemed to be a part of her very essence. The coughing fit had been a stark reminder of her vulnerability, and it was clear that her health was something that weighed on her mind, as well as on the minds of her family.

“I really meant what I said, Y/n.” The woman spoke, her eyes still glued on her family. “Thank you for being there for him. The last year and a half has been.. challenging. I was afraid he was going to keep spiraling, getting into trouble, but then you came along.”

She was now looking at you you, her gaze filled with gratitude and relief. It was clear that your presence in Eren's life had made a significant impact, not just on him, but on his entire family.

"You've grounded him," Carla continued, her voice soft but earnest. "Helped him not think about.. everything."

You felt a swell of emotion at her words. You knew he was different, you’d seen it, felt it yourself, but hearing it from his own mother meant the world to you.

"I care about him a lot," you replied, meeting her gaze. "And he’s been there for me just as much as I've been there for him. We support each other."

Carla reached out, placing a gentle hand over yours. "That's what it's all about, isn't it?" she said with a smile. "I can see how much you both mean to each other, and it gives me peace of mind to know he has someone like you in his corner."

You nodded your head, your gaze back on the boy who’d stolen your heart, “I want to thank you, too. You’ve done a wonderful job with him. He’s.. everything I could ever ask for.”

“Oh, sweetheart, stop it, you’ll make me emotional!” Carla exclaimed, and you both shared a laugh. Her laughter was a balm to your ears, and as you both settled into a comfortable silence, your thoughts drifted to your own mother. The change in her had been palpable ever since your father left. Where there was once warmth and open communication, there was now a cold distance that seemed to stretch further with each passing day.

Her lively spirit, which used to fill the house with joy and endless chatter, had become withdrawn, her smiles fewer and her conversations clipped. The light in her eyes had dimmed, replaced by a weariness that seemed to weigh down her every movement. She was there, but not in the way she used to be—her presence more like a ghost of the vibrant woman she once was.

You understood her pain, the sense of abandonment and betrayal that must have eaten away at her, but it pained you to see her so altered, so consumed by the shadows of what used to be. You longed for the days when your mother was your confidante and your pillar of strength, not this shell of her former self, moving through the days with a hollowed-out heart.

Sharing this moment with Carla, you were reminded of the stark contrast between the lively, loving atmosphere of the Jaegers and the quiet desolation that had settled over your own home. It made you appreciate the Jaegers' warmth even more and deepened your gratitude for the sense of family they extended to you—a gift that was all the more precious given the void that had formed in your own life.

"Life has a way of throwing us curveballs," The woman before you spoke, as if she could read your thoughts. "But it's how we catch them—or pick them up after they've hit the ground—that really counts."

You nodded, looking down at your tea. “I like how that sounds.” For a moment, you debated if you should confide in her, having met her only today. But there was something about this woman, about her demeanor and outlook on life, that made you feel safe. It was a feeling you hadn't realized you'd been missing until now.

You took a deep breath, feeling the words rise up from within. "My mom... she's been different ever since my dad left. It's like the life has been drained out of her, and I don't know how to bring her back. We were so close before.. I miss her—the way she used to be."

Carla's expression softened, her eyes reflecting a deep empathy. She looked at you like this wasn’t the first time she’d heard that story, probably because Eren had already mentioned it. Which, you were kind of thankful for. It meant he cared enough to seek support for you even when you weren't around, and that Carla was now a willing confidante, ready to offer comfort and advice.

"I’m very sorry to hear that, Y/n. It's never easy, seeing the ones we love change before our eyes," Carla said gently. "But remember, healing is a journey, not a destination. It takes time, patience, and a lot of love. Your mother may seem lost right now, but she's still in there, somewhere. And with you by her side, she has a beacon of hope to guide her back."

Her words were a comfort, and in that moment, you felt a connection with her, one that went beyond casualties. She was offering you a piece of wisdom that came from experience, from her own life's trials and tribulations.

"I truly hope so," you said, your voice thick with emotion. "I'll keep trying with her. Maybe one day, she'll be ready to start picking up those curveballs herself."

Carla reached to touch your cheek, her palm warm like her soul. "I’m sure she will, in her own time. And she's lucky to have you. Just like we're lucky to have you here with us."

“Thank you, Carla. This… it really means a lot to me.”

Carla's touch was reassuring, and her kind words wrapped around you like a comforting embrace. "You're welcome, dear," she replied with a gentle smile. "We all need a little support sometimes. Don't hesitate to reach out, whether it's to talk about your mom or anything else. We're family now."

You nodded, feeling a sense of belonging that was both new and deeply cherished. The kindness and openness this woman shared with you was like a soothing balm to the ache you'd been carrying around. It was a stark reminder that, while you couldn't control everything that happened in life, you could choose the people you surrounded yourself with—people who could make the burdens feel a little lighter.

“Now, do you think you could help me set the table? I could even show you my special lemonade recipe.” She sent a playful wink your way.

"I'd love to," you responded, the corners of your mouth lifting into a genuine smile.

Carla stood up to show you around the kitchen, and together you began to gather the plates, utensils, and glasses needed for the meal. The clink of cutlery and the clatter of dishes became the backdrop to a new kind of intimacy, one that was formed through shared tasks and quiet conversation.

As you worked, Carla shared her recipe, explaining each step with the care of someone passing down a treasured secret. You listened intently, taking note of the way she squeezed the lemons just so, the exact amount of sugar she added, and the sprigs of mint she used for garnish. The simplicity of the task, paired with the significance of the moment, made you feel more at home than you had in a long time.

With the table set, the bouquet you gifted her centered right at the middle of it, and the lemonade prepared, you stepped back to admire your handiwork. The kitchen was now transformed into a cozy dining space.

"Looks perfect," Carla said, surveying the scene with a satisfied nod. "Thank you, Y/n. You're a natural at this."

Just then, Eren and his father appeared at the door, the scent of grilled food preceding them. "Wow, look at this!" Eren exclaimed, his eyes taking in the spread. "You two have been busy."

His father placed a hand on your shoulder, a silent gesture of thanks that spoke louder than words. "You're part of the team now," he said with a warm smile.

As everyone took their seats around the table, the afternoon sun casting a golden glow over the scene, you felt a profound sense of peace. Eren sat next to you, his hand never leaving your knee, and in that moment, you just knew.

This was exactly where you were supposed to be.

…..

It was a silent night. A night where the crickets could be heard, their sound still gracing your town’s fields and grass because of the warm weather. You were lying in your bed, staring up at the dark ceiling, unable to fall asleep no matter how much you tried. It’d been two days since your conversation with him. Two days of overworking yourself so you could not think about him. Two days of failing because of all the waking up in the middle of the night, your conversation still fresh in your mind.

Lily was fast asleep in her room, unaware of your inner turmoils. At least you hoped she was. The first day of school was just one day away, and she was beaming with excitement, talking about anything and everything she couldn’t wait to do now that she was a “big girl”. It was heartwarming to listen to her, and it gave you a reason to smile amidst the swirl of emotions you were caught in. Lily's happiness was infectious, and it reminded you why you pushed through the tough times. Her joy and innocence were like beacon in a storm, guiding you back to what truly mattered.

But now, in the quiet of the night, your thoughts drifted once again to Eren and the small piece of paper that now sat on your nightstand. The mere act of taking his number didn't bind you to anything, but it symbolized a bridge — a potential pathway back to someone who had once meant the world to you.

With each silent tick of the clock, your mind played through a thousand different scenarios. What could happen if you called? What would remain if you chose not to? But there was a more pressing question that you couldn’t escape: What did you want to happen?

You rolled over in bed, trying to find a comfortable position that might welcome sleep. Your life had done a whole 180 since he came back, and you were afraid of the same thing happening to your baby girl. How could you answer her questions without breaking her heart if you decided to tell her about him? Even if you came up with some dumb lie that could evidently cause more damage as she grew older, that would only put a bandage on the wound. It wouldn’t fix anything.

But what if Eren was telling the truth? What if he really wanted to be a dad to her? It would be like taking away her chance of having both parents present in her life. But what if.. what if he left again?

You took a deep sigh, palms pressed against your face. You looked at the clock. It was 11:45pm. Screw it.

You jumped off your bed to grab the little piece of paper and began dialing his number, thinking he probably wasn’t asleep. Even if he was, you didn’t care. You didn’t know if you would get that kind of courage again.

He answered after the second beep.

"Hello?" Eren's voice came through the line, alert enough to recognize the urgency of a late-night call.

"Hey, it's me," you said, your voice steadier than you felt. The crickets' chorus seemed to quiet as if the night itself was holding its breath, waiting for what would come next.

“I know.” I know your phone number by heart, he thought. “Is everything okay?”

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes as a means to collect your thoughts. You wanted to tell him that no, everything was not okay. That you’ve been thinking about your conversation, about everything, and that you couldn’t sleep a wink because of it. But instead, you decided to opt with something entirely different.

“The first day of school is in one day.”

Eren went silent. He knew, of course, but he couldn’t quite understand why you were mentioning it.

“Yeah, I know..” he replied, a note of confusion in his voice, “Is Lily okay? Are you?”

"She's more than okay. She's excited, can't stop talking about it," you said, a small smile forming as you thought of your daughter's enthusiasm.

“I’m glad.” You could almost hear the smile in his voice. “It’s her big day, after all.”

Then, you became quiet again. The silence stretched between you, filled with the weight of unspoken thoughts and lingering emotions. Eren seemed to sense your hesitation, your internal struggle with the complexities of the situation.

“Y/n.. is everything-“

“We’re having a gathering at home after the school ceremony. I want you to come.”

The words came out before you could second-guess yourself, a decision made in the quiet space between heartbeats.

“It’ll be only close friends and some neighbors. Your dad, too.” You decided to add.

Eren's response took a few seconds, but you couldn’t miss the excitement, surprise and gratitude mixed within his voice. "I... yes, yes, I'll be there. Just tell me the time."

You nodded, even though he couldn't see you. "It'll be in the afternoon, after the ceremony. I'll text you the details," you said, your voice steady despite the fluttering in your stomach.

"Okay, I'll wait for your message. And Y/n… I… ", Eren paused, as if choosing his words carefully, "Thank you. I really appreciate this.” He went quiet again before he spoke, “I'm going to make sure you don't regret it."

You let out a breath you didn't realize you'd been holding. "We'll see," you said, not ready to make any promises or set any expectations. "For now, let's just focus on making it a good day for her."

"Yeah, yeah, of course," Eren agreed. "She's going to have the best first day. I'm sure of it."

"Yeah, she will" you whispered, a small smile returning as you thought of your daughter's excitement. “And Eren.. I haven’t told her anything yet.”

“Yeah, I understand. I told you, whatever you say, that’s what happens.”

"Okay. Goodnight.”

"Goodnight, Y/n," Eren said softly, a note of warmth in his voice.

The room was quiet once more, the earlier tension replaced by a cautious hope. You were still unsure about the future, about how things would unfold, but you had taken a step. For now, that was enough.

As you lay back down, the crickets outside resumed their song, a familiar and comforting sound. You closed your eyes, allowing yourself to imagine the gathering, the school ceremony, and the look of joy on Lily's face. With those thoughts filling your mind, you finally felt sleep begin to take hold, offering you a respite from the whirlwind of emotions and a chance to finally rest.

…..

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