#the office room I sleep in gets super warm around the year like for no reason

[varpusvaras]

I have two options available for me: either I sleep in my big bed and sweat the entire night, or I go and take over my little brothers narrow as a plank bed and be cool

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 11: It's Coming

Summary: Things have begun to shift in your developing relationship with your pack. Unfortunately, nature has the worst timing in the world. 

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Warnings: Suggestive content, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, military inaccuracies, language, medical stuff, plenty of fluff.

A/N: I wrote like 90% of this chapter on my phone so please forgive any weird typos. I'm super excited for this one and this whole part really. Lots of good stuff coming up!!

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At first you’re not quite sure what pulled you from sleep. You’re warm and more comfortable than you have been in a long time, despite the dull throbbing between your thighs. The pillow against your back shifts, a chill settling in as some of the warmth disappears. 

You blink your eyes open, squinting against the harsh blue light of a phone screen. Price lets out a quiet groan, swiping at something before settling his phone back on the nightstand in front of you. His arms wrap back around your middle, his face pressing into the back of your neck as he settles against you again. 

It was his phone vibrating that had woken you, pulling you from the gentle arms of sleep. It’s still dark out, far too early to be up and getting phone calls, especially on a Sunday morning. You wonder how often John actually gets to sleep, between his job and everything he does when he’s not away. You’re understanding the couch in his office more and more now. 

“Go back to sleep.” He murmurs, a quiet rumbling vibrating against your back as he purrs.

You don’t need to be told twice, snuggling down under the covers again, letting your eyes close. 

You wake a while later alone. It’s daylight finally, the sunlight coming through the window lighting the room. You press your face into the pillow, inhaling Price’s scent. It still smells a bit like arousal and sex in the room, both of your scents heavy in the air. They blend together surprisingly well, Price’s musky woody scent mixing with the sweetness of your own scent. It makes an intoxicating aroma of alpha and omega. 

Price comes out of the bathroom, slipping back under the covers. You curl up against his side, laying your head on his chest as he wraps an arm around you. 

“Morning.” He murmurs, voice heavy with sleep still. 

You hum in response, resting your head over his heart. 

“How do you feel?” He asks, his fingers trailing your bare back. 

“A bit sore.” You say, acknowledging the throbbing between your legs. “Not as bad as I thought I might.” 

Price huffs out a laugh. “It shouldn’t hurt, not if you know what you’re doing.” 

You hum again, the knowledge that he’s very experienced coming to the forefront of your mind. Even if it has been two years, you can imagine him when he was younger, the kind of experiences he must have had. Omegas and barrack bunnies and all sorts of women probably fawned over him. 

“You’re thinking too much.” He says quietly, eyes closed as he lays there with you. 

You’re starting to think he might be able to read your mind. 

“Can I ask you something? Something...personal?” You ask, tilting your head up to look at him. 

He cracks an eye open to stare down at you. “Don’t think you can get much more personal than we already are.” His lips twitch up in a smile. “‘Course, you can ask me anything.” 

“When was the last time you helped an omega through a heat?” You ask, listening to the steady thump of his heart under your ear. 

“Years ago. Well over a decade ago.” He says, voice still thick and raspy with sleep. He clears his throat, a hand settling on your waist. “Back when I was still a Sergeant. I had the idea back then of settling down, finding an omega and having my own pack. Had a few on and off relationships. Then I started getting sent off on more and more dangerous missions. I realized my skill set and my purpose, and gave up the idea of having an omega. I couldn’t stand the thought of putting them through that, if something happened to me. I’ve seen what losing an alpha does to an omega firsthand too many times.” 

A frown tugs at your brows as you lay there against his chest. You know the risk of them dying is high. The CIA had spent ample time warning you of that risk, telling you about how dangerous their lives are and how every assignment, every deployment, could be their last. They could be gone for weeks at a time, months at a time, and they could go and not come back. They know that every time they leave for an assignment it could be their last, and now you’ll be stuck behind knowing they might not be coming back. 

You’ve heard about omegas that have lost their alphas, how damaging it can be. It’s not something you’re taught at the institute. That’s not something you’re supposed to think about, something you shouldn’t have to think about. 

“What’s eating you?” Price asks softly, his finger stroking the pinched skin between your brows. 

You shift against his side, leaning more on his chest as you look up at him. “What if you don’t come back?” 

His smile is a bit grim as he stares up at you, his fingers trailing across your face. “I won’t lie and say that’s not a risk. There’s always a chance.” His fingers trail down your arm to rest on your hand where it’s pressed flat against his chest. “We’re here for a reason. We are the best at what we do.” 

He pauses as your hand moves, your gaze lowering from his as you trace one of the scars on his clavicle. You can only imagine what caused it. A knife? Shrapnel? Where was he and what was he doing when he got it? You might never be able to know all the details. So many secrets, so much you can’t know. 

John wraps his arms around you, easing you off his chest as he rolls you onto your back. You stare up at him as he hovers over you, his hand brushing stray hairs from your face. “Don’t worry too much.” He says, his finger trailing the line of your nose. “We always try our best to make it home. Now we just have an even greater reason to.” 

Your hand cups his cheek as he leans down, pressing his lips to yours. You hum against his mouth, pressing your body closer against his. You can’t help but smile against his lips as his cock hardens against your thigh. 

“Again?” You murmur against his lips, making him chuckle.

“Can’t blame me when there’s a beautiful omega naked in my bed.” 

Your face burns as he leans back down to kiss you, his hips moving against your thigh. Warmth spreads through your whole body from his scent thickening in the air, his arousal prevalent as he twitches against your leg. 

“John.” You moan softly, hands grasping at his back. 

You both pause as a door shuts in the hallway, the reminder that the others are just a thin wall away coming back to you. The moment is over as your stomach growls, also reminding you that you’ll need to eat eventually. 

John chuckles quietly, leaning up to press a kiss against your forehead. “Come on, let’s get the day started and get some food into you.” 

You frown a bit as he pulls away, cock still hard and angry looking as he stands from the bed. “John?” You call out, scrambling off the bed after him. “You’re just gonna...” 

“Give it a minute and I’ll be fine.” He says, moving to his closet. “Wouldn’t be the first time.” 

Your frown only deepens and you step closer to him, catching him as he turns around. You stare up at him through your lashes, wrapping your hand around his cock. He pauses, letting out a little groan as you squeeze him gently. 

“Let me help you.” You say, dragging your hand along his length. 

His eyes darken as he stares down at you, the pants in his hand dropping to the floor. 

Your face is still a bit flushed as you make your way to the mess. You’re hand in hand with John, dressed comfortably in one of his shirts and a pair of leggings. You can’t help but feel a bit bashful, as if they’re all going to know what you did, as if every soldier in the mess knows you and Price slept together last night. 

They’ve probably been thinking that since you arrived. 

Price leads you through the line, making your tray for you. You nearly beam with pride at him taking care of you, your omega preening with happiness as he carries your tray and his to the table. You take the spot next to Gaz as usual, still practically beaming. 

“Have a good night, love?” Gaz asks, smirking a bit at your pleased state. 

“Yeah.” You say, your face getting warm again at their stares. 

“Practically glowing, kitten.” Johnny says, winking at you from across the table. 

Your face flushes hotter and you quickly bury yourself in your porridge to avoid exploding at the breakfast table. 

“Sounded like ye had a great time.” Johnny continues. 

Christ, they probably heard the whole thing. You halfway want to sink down beneath the table to hide from their knowing stares. You don’t have anything to be embarrassed about, not really. They’re your pack, and eventually you’ll be in the same position with them too. 

“Didnae know ye had it in ye, kitten.” Johnny continues. “We certainly enjoyed the show.”

You do start to sink down in your seat a bit, surprised steam isn’t rising off your skin from how warm you feel. Gaz’s hand on your leg stops you, his fingers squeezing your thigh gently. 

“Don’t pay too much attention to him, love.” Gaz gives you a reassuring smile. “He’s just jealous he didn’t get to go first.” 

“Am not.” Johnny whines, practically pouting. 

You can’t help but smile a bit at his antics. You know from how much he bragged about getting to be your first kiss that he probably was rather put out that John got to be your first. It would have been that way regardless, but you know you asking John before your heat changed things a bit. It would have always been John, though. 

It would have always been your alpha first. 

Gaz’s hand doesn't move from your thigh, holding its place there as you all eat, Johnny still pouting a bit. You know they’ll want to pursue that sort of relationship with you after your heat, but now that John’s removed the barrier of the first time as well, you can only expect them to up the teasing tenfold. A shiver runs up your spine at the thought of Gaz sliding his hand slightly higher, fingers slipping between your legs. 

You’re certain there has to be steam coming off of you now. 

Your thighs squeeze together, trapping Gaz's fingers between them as you continue to try and act normally. Gaz turns his head just slightly, side eyeing you as you continue to try and eat your breakfast as normally as possible. Gaz's grip on your thigh tightens, fingers digging into your skin. You fight the noise threatening to come up as he holds his hand there, continuing to eat his breakfast as if nothing is happening. 

You hold Gaz's hand as he walks you back towards the barracks, leaning against his side. His grip around your fingers is tight, not even the rain dampening the heaviness of his scent. It's deeper than usual, the musk of arousal tinging the edges. 

Your back meets your door as soon as you're back in the barracks, Gaz pinning you against the wood. Your own breathing is heavy as you stare up at him, his eyes dark as he meets your gaze. 

“Fuckin’ gorgeous, you know that?” He groans, leaning down to kiss you. It's far more passionate than you've ever kissed him before, his hands sliding down your sides to grip your waist. “Making all those sweet noises last night.” He breathes against your lips. “Haven't seen Price that relaxed in a long time.” 

Your face warms at his words, your hands clutching at the fabric of his shirt. He presses harder against you, pinning you against the door as his tongue prods at your lips. He tastes like the tea he drank with breakfast, herby and earthy. 

“Has us all worked up last night.” He groans against your lips. “Hearing you, knowing our alpha was treating you nice.”

He presses his forehead against yours, staring down at you. You meet his gaze, shivering under the intensity in his deep brown eyes. 

“Johnny bout cried he was so worked up.” Gaz's lips twitch in a smile. “Simon left for the gym bout halfway through, had to work out his tension.”

Your brows raise at the news about what Ghost had been up to last night. You figured he might join Johnny in his room, or perhaps head somewhere so he didn't have to hear you. Not that he would leave because he was being affected by you. 

“Johnny was being such a whiny little bastard. Had no choice but to take pity on him.” Gaz nips at your jawline playfully. “I fear he's going to be unbearable until he gets his chance.” 

“Well, he'll just have to wait his turn.” You say. 

Gaz laughs, kissing you again before he takes half a step back, leaning his arm on the door above you. “Any plans today?”

You shrug, still leaning against your door. “Might read, or nap. Maybe both.” You sink your teeth into your lip, reaching back to put your hand on the door handle. “You wanna come in?” 

Gaz's grin widens into a smile, his eyes practically sparkling. “Sure.”

You open the door, stepping into your room. It's a bit of a mess from you preparing for your date last night. You toss the clothes from your bed onto the floor haphazardly before pushing Gaz onto the mattress. He kicks off his shoes before making himself comfortable. You toe off your slippers, grabbing your book before joining him on the bed. He pulls you against his side, pulling his phone out of his pocket as you settle against his chest. A quiet content purr begins rumbling in his chest, easing the tension in your body as you relax against him. 

You stay like that, reading while cuddling Gaz, for quite a while. Your door is wide open still, the others coming and going as they do on the weekends. Gaz keeps your back to his chest, arm wrapped around his middle as he scrolls on his phone while you read. 

Slowly his head starts to droop until it's resting against the top of yours. You can feel the content sleepiness settling into your bones as well, the words on the pages starting to swim a bit. You mark your place, moving just enough to set your book on your nightstand before you curl up against him, letting his even breaths lull you to sleep. 

You jolt awake suddenly as Gaz's arms tighten around you, keeping you from flying off the bed. You blink open your bleary eyes, squinting at Johnny's grinning face inches from yours. His body is draped over both yours and Gaz's, a solid weight against you both. 

“C'mon ye lazies. Gotta eat lunch eventually.” He says, sounding far too chipper for a Sunday afternoon. 

“Fuck off mate.” Gaz says, shoving at Johnny's shoulder. “Was comfy.”

“Yer hogging the omega!” Johnny says, poking Gaz's side. He pushes himself up, scooping you into his arms and lifting you. “Some of us would like tae spend time with ‘er too.” 

You yelp at being lifted suddenly, wrapping your arms around Johnny's neck to hold on for dear life. 

“Well, maybe you just need to be a little bit faster.” Gaz says, standing from the bed. 

“I'm plenty fast.” Johnny almost whines. “Close to beating your time on the course.”

Gaz smirks. “I'll believe it when I see it.” 

You look back and forth between them as Gaz steps closer to Johnny, caging you between them. 

“And ye will see it.” Johnny says.

“Cheeky.” Gaz murmurs, closing the distance between them. 

You stare wide eyed as they kiss just inches in front of your face. It's all tongues and teeth, Soap's chest rumbling against your side as he purrs. A quiet whimper leaves your lips as you watch them, your body starting to get warm again. 

They break apart, both turning to look at you. Gaz's lips turn up in a smirk, Johnny's eyes sparkling. 

“Look at you, kitten.” Johnny smirks. “Ye like watching us?” 

You make another quiet noise, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip. Johnny slowly lowers you until you're standing between them, Gaz not moving an inch as they trap you in a beta sandwich. Their bodies are warm and solid as you stand there, back to Johnny's chest. You can feel the bulge in his jeans pushing against your ass, Gaz's body a solid weight against your front. 

You can imagine it, naked between them, skin against skin with hands everywhere. A quiet purr begins in your chest, eyes dilating as you stare up at Gaz. He smirks down at you, leaning down towards you. He skirts to the side at the last minute though, kissing Johnny behind you. 

You can't see them this time but lord can you hear it. Johnny is still purring, the sound vibrating against your back. Gaz let's out a quiet sound, his hand dropping to squeeze your waist. 

Johnny pats your side before pulling away. “Should get ye some lunch.”

Your head is still spinning as Gaz hums his approval, stepping away as well. You stand there blinking for a moment at the sudden loss of contact, the sudden shift in energy. 

“C'mon, get yer shoes on, sunshine.” Johnny says. 

You move half in a daze still towards your bed, your body tingling a bit still from the many thoughts that had been racing through your mind. 

Something in the back of your mind begins to itch as you stare down at your bed. Your brows pinch in a frown as you stare down at the mess of blankets and pillows. 

It's not right. 

Your fingertips twitch as you stare at the mess in your nest, your mind taking over as you begin to rearrange the blankets and pillows. You forget you're not alone in the room as you fuss with the blankets until the itching begins to lessen a bit. You fiddle with the pillows, moving them around over and over again until you're happy with how they're organized, the quiet humming in the back of your mind fading away to nothing. 

You sink down on the edge of the bed, letting out a long breath. You feel tired and almost winded after your effort to make sure your nest is just right. 

Nest. 

You're nesting. 

You blink up at Johnny and Gaz, suddenly aware of their presence in your space again. Johnny is staring at you wide eyed, mouth slightly parted in wonder. Gaz has a sparkle in his eye as he grins at you. 

You've just built a nest. 

“Feel better, love?” Gaz asks, still almost beaming from witnessing you make your nest. 

You nod, a sudden weight lifting from your shoulders. You've nested. You're nesting. Everything is going to be okay. 

“C'mon.” Johnny says, slipping your slippers back onto your feet. “Let's get lunch in ye.”

You let him help you up, holding both their hands as you make your way from the barracks, a small, relieved smile on your face.

You wake up nauseous. 

There’s a clawing feeling in your stomach and you’re not sure why. 

It’s early, too early to be up. The sky outside is still dark, and the barracks are quiet. You get up, heading for the bathroom, the gnawing feeling still plaguing your stomach. Cold water on your face doesn't help the light-headedness or the dizziness you’re beginning to feel. 

You can’t possibly be sick. You haven’t been around anyone that’s sick. You know heat sickness isn’t a threat right now. There’s no warnings out about possible exposures. It couldn’t be food poisoning. You eat the same things they do. 

The gnawing intensifies, your stomach rumbling a bit. 

Realization dawns on you suddenly. 

You’re hungry. 

You’re very hungry. 

You check the time on your phone. Three a.m. Still too early for any of the boys to be up, and still a couple hours from when the mess would start serving breakfast. You head for the rec room, hoping there’s at least something in there to tide you over until breakfast. 

You dig through the cabinets, plenty of tea and a couple packets of instant coffee you know belong to Johnny. You dig out a couple protein bars, grabbing a water bottle from the fridge before taking a seat on the couch. 

The protein bars aren’t great. They don’t taste good, but you’re so hungry you don’t care. You down them quickly and the entire bottle of water. For a moment you feel relief, the gnawing in your stomach easing. You head back to bed, slipping back into your room quietly. 

You toss and turn, unable to go back to sleep as the gnawing begins in your stomach once more. You let out a quiet sound, muffled by your pillow as you lay there, knowing you still have a long time until they’ll come and get you for breakfast. 

The thought makes you almost want to cry. 

You’re waiting as soon as they knock, narrowly avoiding Johnny’s hand as you open the door mid-knock. The bright look in his eyes fades as he stares at you. You know you look miserable, maybe a little sick, even. You feel worse, your stomach twisting and gnawing. Those protein bars four hours ago hadn’t been nearly enough. 

“Ye alright, kitten?” He asks, a frown marring his face. 

“Hungry.” You all but whine, slipping out the door, closing it behind you. 

“Ye hungry, kitten? Ye could have said somethin’ sooner. Coulda brought ye somethin’.” Johnny says, following you down the hall. 

You’re determined to get real food and you’re not about to let anything get in your way. You feel ravenous, despite the fact you’d had a good dinner the night before. 

Maybe it hadn’t been enough. 

You make your own tray this time, loading on more than you usually do. You take your normal spot between Price and Gaz, all four of them eyeing your tray as you happily dig in. 

“Hungry, love?” Price asks, watching you spoon huge mouthfuls of porridge into your mouth. 

You nod, chewing quickly before spooning more in. It tastes delicious, something you never thought you would say about British food. 

They all watch in awe as you clear your tray, eating every last crumb, having to refrain from licking it clean. Finally, for the first time since you went to bed last night, you feel full and satisfied. 

“Damn. Putting us to shame.” Gaz says, staring at your empty, nearly clean tray. 

You grow bashful under their stares, realizing you not only out ate them, you also finished first. “I was hungry.” You say, fiddling with your fork. 

“No kidding.” Ghost huffs out, all of them finishing up their trays. 

You’re in a far better mood leaving the mess than you were entering it, the sweet relief of being full after hours of gnawing hunger making you feel almost giddy. Ghost walks you back to the barracks, walking slow enough you can easily keep up with him. So slow, your arm brushes his as you walk next to him. 

“Sorry.” You say, moving a step away from him. You’re so used to standing directly next to the others, you’ve forgotten Ghost prefers his personal space. 

He stares down at you for a moment but doesn’t say anything, holding the door to the barracks open for you. He stands just inside the door, watching you make your way down the hallway to your room. He waits for the click of the lock before he turns, leaving you alone in the barracks again. 

You settle into your usual routine of laying in your nest and reading, the giddiness starting to wear off as the time passes. You make it until ten a.m. when the gnawing hunger begins to return. You let out an annoyed whine, dropping your book to the floor as you roll onto your stomach. 

You want to cry and scream at the same time, watching the clock tick by on your phone. You’re tired of being so hungry, and what’s worse, you don’t even know why. You’re just ravenous and you can’t think of a reason. 

Lunch can’t come soon enough, and you find yourself struggling through the afternoon just as much. It’s almost like your body is on a timer and every two hours you’re suddenly starving, as if you haven’t eaten all day. You eat just as much as you did at breakfast, scarfing down food like you’re a starving animal. 

You certainly feel like one. 

You head to the rec room after dinner, Ghost and Johnny joining you. Johnny takes the seat next to you on the couch, draping his arm behind you as Ghost takes his usual spot in the chair. 

You curl up against Johnny’s side, watching whatever he decides to put on TV half-heartedly. You’re waiting for the inevitable, the gnawing hunger to creep up on you again. 

It does, roughly two hours into your time in the rec room. 

You shift against Johnny, pressing against his side more as you try to ignore the hunger burning through you. His arm wraps around your shoulders, holding you against him. You breathe in his scent, letting the citrusy scent of him wash over you. 

It only serves to make you more hungry. 

You let out a quiet whine, trying to get closer to him. Tears prick at your eyes as you know there’s no relief coming. There’s no more meals until tomorrow. You’ll have to go all night before you can eat again, before you can relieve the hunger. You’re not sure you’ll make it that long. You might perish in the middle of the night, or become violently ill. Perhaps both. 

You let out another quiet whine, standing from the couch. You can’t take it anymore, both Johnny and Ghost watching you as you head for the cabinets, kneeling on the floor and rummaging through everything, desperate to find another protein bar or anything. 

“What are you doing?” Ghost asks, staring at you as you’re halfway in the cabinet, checking every last corner. 

“Hungry!” You snap, half considering eating one of the tea bags just for something. 

You’ve just closed the cabinet door in irritation when an arm wraps around your waist, lifting you from the floor. You let out a yelp, Ghost carrying you easily back to the couch. 

“Stay.” He says after dropping you back next to Johnny. “I’ll be back.” 

Johnny wraps his arms around you as you pout, nearly in tears from how frustrated you are. You’re just so hungry. 

“Easy, kitten.” Johnny says, pulling you back against his chest. 

You nuzzle into him, curling up into a ball against his side. He starts purring quietly, trying to soothe you while you wait for Ghost to return. You can’t pay attention to the TV, Johnny trying to change the channel every time a food related commercial comes on. 

You’re nearly shaking when Ghost returns, arms full of snacks. Your eyes widen as he dumps them on the coffee table, pushing yourself up from Johnny’s chest. 

“Where did you get these?” You ask, dropping to your knees on the floor in front of the coffee table. 

“Vending machine in the mess.” Ghost answers, sitting back down in his chair. 

You stare at him teary eyed, sniffling a little. “Thank you.” 

He grunts in response, turning his gaze back to the TV as you reach for a bag of chips.

You can barely even taste it as you kneel there on the floor, basking in the first taste of sweet relief from a bag of salt and vinegar chips. You grab them by the handful, burning through the small, snack sized bag quickly. 

You’ve barely finished chewing when you’re reaching for a candybar, a sudden realization striking you as your brain begins to regain the ability to think now that it knows relief is coming. You stare at the purple Cadbury on the front of the packaging, your fingers trembling as you hold the candybar. 

You take a deep breath, quickly opening the wrapper before taking a bit, sitting back on your heels as you chew. “Well, shit.” 

“I know, I hate the exam rooms too.” Dr. Keller says, flipping through her clipboard. “Too clinical and sterile looking.” She lifts your hand, removing the pulse monitor from your finger. “A little higher than normal.” She says, writing something down on the clipboard. 

She takes your blood pressure and temperature, writing both down on the clipboard. 

“Temperature is still normal.” She says. “How have you been feeling?” 

“Hungry.” You say, picking at the thin fabric of the hospital gown you’ve been forced into. “Ravenously hungry and clingy.” You continue. “A bit more emotional than normal too.” 

Dr. Keller nods, writing all of it down. “Normal things for your pre-heat, according to your file. Anything out of the ordinary? Aches and pains? Any nausea or vomiting, not related to hunger?” 

You shake your head. “No. Kinda sleepy all the time too, but the hunger makes it hard to sleep.” 

Dr. Keller nods. “That’s normal. Your body is preparing for a few days of very little caloric intake and little rest. I’d say you’re exhibiting all the signs of pre-heat. You’re right on time, as expected.” She gives you a little smile. “Judging by your vitals you still have a few days before the full heat symptoms begin. Any questions?” 

“What do institutes do for heats?” John asks where he’s sitting to the side of the exam table. 

“It depends on the institute.” Dr. Keller says, looking at you. 

“FIOT rotated between sedation and isolation.” You say, not really wanting to think back on the heats you had gone through at the institute. “Sedation for the full heat, or shutting us in private rooms for a week to ride out the symptoms alone to avoid triggering heats in the other omegas.” 

“Neither are great, but in that sort of environment there’s not a lot that can be done. Sedation is the better of the two, though it can still be disorienting. Isolation is painful and risky, especially if proper care isn’t given.” Dr. Keller says. 

“Is sedation an option for the future?” Price asks. 

You turn to look at him, before looking back at Dr. Keller. 

“It’s something we can explore. I know it can’t be expected of you to be here for every heat. We can start exploring some alternatives after this heat is over and I have a better idea of what they’re going to look like.” Dr. Keller gives you a soft smile. “Now, I’d like to do a little exam just to give me a baseline for after your heat when I check for any abnormalities or injuries.” 

She directs you to lay down on the exam table and put your feet in the stirrups. You suddenly feel nervous, her words doing little to calm you. John appears in your peripheral, slipping his hand into yours. 

“Is that a risk?” You ask as Dr. Keller pulls a clean pair of gloves on. 

“Only a small one.” She says, standing at the end of the table. “I know you’ve probably heard all the horror stories, but those are only really concerns with inexperienced alphas who have never helped an omega through a heat before, especially those who had limited exposure to omegas in general.” She smiles at you. “You’re in good hands, my dear.” 

She does her exam, letting you sit up once she’s finished. John helps you up, still holding your hand. Dr. Keller’s words do ease your concerns just a bit, but you can’t help the images flashing through your mind, the horror stories of mutilations and even deaths. You trust Price to take care of you, but at the same time, you won’t know until it’s over. 

“Everything looks good.” She says. “The best thing you can do right now is try to satiate the pre-heat symptoms and take this time to make sure everything is ready and in place for when the full heat begins. Don’t worry too much.” She looks pointedly at you. “I’ll be on call and ready should something happen.” Her gaze turns to John. “Your beta knows what to look out for, right?” 

John nods. “Kyle has been doing a lot of research. He knows what to do.” 

“Good.” Dr. Keller says, looking back at you. “Why don’t you get dressed, then we can go back to my office where it’s more comfortable and talk some more.” 

Dr. Keller leaves you alone in the room, Price helping you change back into your normal clothes, leaving the room with you. You turn to look up at him, Dr. Keller waiting for you near her office door. 

“I’ll see you later, yeah?” Price says, leaning down towards you. 

“Yeah.” You say, standing up on your toes to kiss him. 

You try to ignore the look on Dr. Keller’s face as you walk past her and into her office, your face warming a bit in response. You take your normal seat, trying to get comfortable despite your bashfulness. 

“You and Captain Price seem a lot closer.” Dr. Keller says as she sits across from you on the couch. 

You nod. “Yeah. We, uh, we have gotten closer.” You chew on your lip. “We slept together...on Saturday night. Had a date, he cooked dinner. Then we...did it.” 

Dr. Keller’s brows raise at your words, her face surprised. “Oh? Is that so? Is that something you wanted?” 

You nod. “I asked him if he’d do it. I wanted my first time to be when I could remember it...before I would feel like it was something that had to be done.” 

Dr. Keller hums, writing something down. “Did you have fun?” 

Your face warms at her words, and you halfway wish the chair would swallow you whole. You nod, hiding your fingers beneath your sleeves again. “Yeah. I uh, started nesting too.” 

Dr. Keller’s face breaks out into a huge smile. “That’s great! That’s fantastic news! Perfect timing too.” 

You nod. “Yeah. Started on Sunday. Been feeling it since.” 

“Good. That gives us one less thing to worry about.” She sets her notebook aside, crossing her legs as she stares at you. “How do you feel about your heat coming so soon?” 

“Nervous.” You answer honestly. 

“It can be a bit daunting, I’d imagine, your first heat with an alpha. Captain Price knows what he’s doing, though. He and Sergeant Garrick will take good care of you.” 

“I know.” You say, fiddling with your sleeves. “It’s still scary. A lot of things can happen and...what if one of them does?” 

“It’s not very likely.” Dr. Keller reassures you. “Captain Price knows what he’s doing. He’s experienced with omegas and heats and the likelihood of him losing control is small, even after so long without any contact with an omega. It sounds like Sergeant Garrick has educated himself on things to look for, and what to do to help. I’ll be ready and on call the entire time as well. I’ll make regular check-ins with Sergeant Garrick too, to make sure everything is going smoothly. You’re not alone in this. We’ll all make sure you’re well taken care of. I know it’s a lot to ask you to trust people that are still somewhat strangers, but we all have your best interests in mind here.” 

“I know.” You say quietly. “It’s hard, not knowing much of anything. They tell you everything you should expect at the institute over and over again, then you get in it and everything is different. Nothing is like it should be. Nothing like they said. I don’t know what I’m doing.” 

“I know. You were prepared for one life and got an entirely different one. Lucky for you, though, you’re surrounded by very understanding people who are more than happy to help you. I know this is so far from ideal for you, but I think you’re doing a fantastic job with what you were handed.” 

You stare at your hands, thinking over her words. John’s called you a good omega before. He’s called you that a few times. He thinks you’re doing a good job, despite the fact you feel like none of your skills are useful here. Despite the fact you feel like you haven’t been trying. 

You think over everything they’ve done for you, how hard they’ve tried to help make you as comfortable as possible. She’s right. They’re all so understanding and you know they like you. You can see it in their reactions to you, you can smell it on them. You know Gaz won’t let anything happen to you, even if something goes wrong. 

They have yet to prove themselves untrustworthy, for the most part. 

Maybe you really don’t have anything to worry about. 

“Come on.” Ghost says, standing in your doorway. You almost don't recognize him in a beanie and surgical mask instead of his usual balaclava. “Get shoes on, and let’s go.” 

“Go where?” You ask, sitting up on your bed. 

“Shopping.” He says, before turning on his heel. 

You frown, but do as he says, slipping on comfortable shoes and grabbing your phone. You head down the hall towards the door, a familiar car parked outside. Price and Ghost are waiting next to the car, both dressed in civilian clothes. You approach them hesitantly, suddenly feeling intimidated in the presence of the two alphas. You know you have nothing to worry about, but this is the first time you'll be alone with both of them. 

Ghost steps up to you, a bottle in his hand. You barely have time to hold your breath before he sprays you down with scent blocker, the harsh chemicals burning your nose as they settle on your skin and cut off your scent. It's necessary, even with two alphas around you. 

“Ready?” John asks, letting his eyes scan over your form for a second. He could probably pick up on your tension and uneasy energy from a mile away. 

“Can...Can I ask why?” You ask as John opens the back door for you. 

“Well, we can't have you starving to death on us, can we?” John smiles. “And we need to get a few things for your heat.”

“Oh.” You say, blinking up at him. 

“Hop in. Hopefully we can get the shopping done before dinner.” John says. 

Before you get hungry again. 

You climb in the backseat, John closing the door before getting in the driver's side. Ghost is already in the passenger seat, buckled in and ready. 

You sit and watch the landscape pass by, the car quiet except for the radio. The contrast between the two betas and the two alphas is almost as distinct as night and day. Johnny and Gaz had talked almost nonstop the entire drive to and back from town. Ghost and Price seem content in their silence, Ghost watching the landscape pass just like you. 

It speaks volumes of their trust and ease with each other. 

The farmlands turn to city and you find yourself back at Asda again. You hold John's hand as you walk, Ghost taking your other side, sandwiching you between them. People stare as you pass, their eyes on Ghost, but he doesn't even seem to notice. 

You stick close to John as you walk through the store, picking up items you'll need for your heat, as well as some other things. Ghost follows like a shadow, people giving you a wide berth when they spot him. You're almost grateful for it. You swear some of them can tell you're about to start your heat, their eyes burning into you as they pass. 

You can feel the beginnings of hunger starting to creep in as you walk down the bed liner aisle. You know if you weren't starting to get hungry, you would have been close to combusting from the knowledge of why this aisle was necessary. 

You let out a sigh, leaning your head against John's arm as he crosses the bed liner off the list. 

“What?” He asks, amusement in his voice. 

“You know what I miss?” You say, wrapping your arms around one of his. “Good authentic Mexican food.” 

The corner of John's lips lift in a smile. “Yeah? You getting hungry again?” 

You nod, a subtle whine to your tone. “Yeah.”

John turns to look at Ghost, the two alphas having a seconds long silent conversation before Ghost heads off, disappearing from the aisle. 

“Where's he going?” You ask. 

“Getting a head start on the other supplies for your heat.” John says. “Just a couple more things, then your snacks and we'll be done and we'll get some dinner.” 

You stop as you turn the corner around the end of the aisle, your eyes spotting a giant teddy bear. It looks soft and squishy, your pre-heat addled brain already picturing the perfect spot for it in your nest. 

“You want it?” John asks, looking between you and the bear. 

You snap back into reality for a moment, glancing up at the price. You nearly die on the spot, shaking your head. “I-I don't...”

John turns you to face him, speaking firmly. “Do you want it?”

You stare up into his eyes, nodding slowly. 

His gaze softens just a bit, a smile tugging at his lips. “Then grab it.” 

You're moving before you can even have a second thought, wrapping your arms around it and lifting it off the shelf. It's just as soft as you thought it would be, nearly as big as you are too. You can imagine cuddling it in your nest, napping contently, surrounded in soft plushness. 

“C'mon pup.” John says, patting your back gently. You're purring, you realize suddenly, the sound leaving you entirely unconsciously. “Let's get you some snacks then we'll get dinner.”

You carry the bear, following John to the grocery section of the store. He takes you to the snack aisle and you pass the bear off to him, grabbing anything and everything that looks good, loading up the cart. You grab a few things from the American section as well, snacks you didn't think you'd miss, but right now they sound like manna straight from heaven. 

“Simon's done with his part.” John says, glancing at his phone. “We'll meet back at the car.” 

You take the bear back once you're done filling the cart with snacks, heading towards the checkout. You're hesitant to let the bear go long enough to be scanned before you're holding it again, purring quietly and contently. 

John keeps his arm around you as you walk through the parking lot towards the car. There's already bags in the trunk from Ghost, the alpha already in the passenger seat. They must have both been carrying keys to the car. Safety precautions. Things most people wouldn't even think about. 

“Thank you.” You say as John fills the trunk with the rest of the bags. “You didn't have to do this.”

“Yes we did.” John says, looking down at you. “Not going let you starve like that if we can help it.”

“It's still strange to me, getting taken care of.” You say, squeezing the bear. “Still makes me feel a bit like a sugar baby.”

John chuckles. “Don't worry, I won't make you call me daddy.” He leans in close to your ear. “Unless you want to.” 

Your face burns hot, your entire body igniting with heat at his words. He gives you a gentle pat on the ass, directing you to the door of the car before taking the cart back to the store. 

Your face is still burning as you attempt to climb into the car with your bear, giving up and stuffing it in first. 

“What the hell is that?” Ghosts asks, turning to look at you.

“My new bear.” You respond, arranging the bear so its sitting in the seat beside you. 

“Christ.” He breathes, and you can practically hear the eye roll as you buckle the bear in. 

You buckle yourself in as John climbs in the driver's seat.

“All set?” He asks, turning to look at you. 

You nod, smiling happily despite the hunger eating away at you. 

“Let's get some dinner, then we'll head back to base.” John says, turning on the car. “Can't have our omega starving on us, can we?” 

Ghost snorts. “Best feed her before she decides we look appetizing.” 

You wrinkle your nose. “You'd be too gamey, Ghost.” You say, eyeing him before turning your gaze to the seat in front of you. “John, though...” You lick your lips. “I already know you taste good.”

John lets out a deep chuckle that rumbles with the edge of a pleased growl. “Easy, kitten.”

Ghost lets out a heavy sigh, running a hand over his face. “Spare me. Now there's two of ‘em.” 

John chuckles again, squeezing Ghost's shoulder. “Little did you know, Simon.” 

Ghost turns to look at John. “Is it too late to get a refund?” 

You stifle a giggle as John smiles. “You'll have to ask Laswell.”  

Ghost sighs, turning to look out the window. “No hope for it, then.” 

“Hey, at least I'm cute!” You grin. “Don't tell Johnny I said that.” 

You practically beam with pride as you see Ghost's shoulders shake with his laughter. Maybe you can get through to him more than you think you can. 

Maybe, just maybe, you can get him to like you. 

The knock comes at your door unexpectedly. It's late, and you had just begun to feel the pangs of hunger once more. You hate it, but you know it's necessary considering you'll have to go roughly a week getting in nothing but what nutrient bars can offer while exerting insane amounts of energy. Your body needs to store the calories now so that you don't die during your heat. 

You're surprised to see Ghost on the other side of the door, back in his balaclava. His shoulders are squared, but you can't scent any anger or hostility on him. 

He almost seems...nervous. 

“Hungry?” He asks, staring down at you. 

“Always.” You answer almost instinctively, staring up into his deep brown eyes. 

He motions for you to follow with his head. “C'mon.” 

You frown a little, but you step out of your room, closing the door behind you. You follow him towards the rec room, staring at his broad back. His shoulders are still squared, hands in his pockets. 

The rec room is set up again not unlike it was for your date with John. The card table is out and there's foil covered dishes on it, along with a couple plates. Your brows raise in surprise as you take it all in. 

“I made you something.” Ghost says, moving over to the table, removing the foil from one of the dishes. 

You move closer, blinking in surprise. “You made...enchiladas?” 

He nods. “As close as I could get with what I could find on short notice. There's rice and beans, too. And salsa.” 

Tears blur your vision as you stare down at the food on the table. It smells delicious and that's not just your ravenous pre-heat hunger talking. “You...did this for me?”

“Well, I had help,” He says, looking past you. 

You turn, Soap and Gaz standing at the windows that frame the door to the rec room. They smile and wave at you as you turn to look at them. A quiet laugh leaves your mouth as you smile at them. 

“Help yourself.” Ghost says as you turn back to the table. “There's plenty.”

You serve yourself a plate, nearly melting off the chair as you take the first bite. It takes you all the way back home, the good years when your father was stationed in Texas. 

“Taste okay?” Ghost asks, watching you. “I know it's not authentic, but I did a lot of research.”

“It's amazing, Ghost. Really.” You say. “Tastes just like the ones my mom would make.” You wipe at the tears in your eyes. “Thank you for doing this.”

He shrugs, looking almost bashful. “It's the least I could do. I know how big of a deal heats are to omegas and how nervous you've been. Thought you could use a little comfort.” 

You smile softly. “That means a lot.” You can't help but giggle softly. “I knew you liked me deep down.”

He gives you a look, making you giggle even more. “Don't push it.” 

NEXT ->

Taglist:

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[holybibly]

I don't know about you bunnies, but I can never get enough of Seonghwa. So here are the unholy thoughts of the day

You never liked noisy offices and crowds. You've always been uncomfortable with the constant hustle and bustle and toxicity of office spaces, so when your boss offered you the chance to work from home, you jumped at the chance.

The first year was great; the second year you started to worry about the complete lack of social communication; and the third year you decided you'd had enough.

No more solo activities because you decided to adopt a hybrid.

The idea of adopting a gorgeous feline or arctic fox hybrid, or maybe even a cute little puppy of some kind of small breed, was something you found incredibly appealing.

So why did you end up bringing home Hwa and Seonghwa, who were so very different from each other?

Hwa was an excitable, needy bunny with the biggest, almost starry eyes, a problem with being overly tactile, and a constant desire for attention and affection. From the moment he saw you at the adoption centre, he was all over you, everywhere you went. As bunny, he needed special care, especially sexually, but also, Hwa was too affectionate and quickly became attached, so it was no surprise that he literally melted into you, burying his pretty face in your chest and squealing happily.

Seonghwa, on the other hand, was not the most obvious choice for a pet, being a sexy, mesmerising, and calm snake hybrid. But there was something about you that warmed him up. Even though Hwa completely surrounded you with his body, Seonghwa somehow managed to get close enough to you to lick your neck with his forked tongue.

It was so hard for you to get used to both of them, especially since both of the hybrids turned out to be more than needy and clingy, even if in completely different ways.

Seonghwa loved to cuddle with you; the warmth of your soft, gentle body was an attraction and a seduction for him. In the beginning, it was all very innocent. He would cuddle up to you while you were working, while you were watching a film or reading on the couch in the living room, and even while you were sleeping. But the more time that Seonghwa spent with you, the more he began to crave a different kind of warmth from you.

It all started with his hands under your shirt and the slow, almost lazy way he ran his fingertips over your skin. Then came the touch of his sensual, plump lips on your neck and the cold, wet licks of his forked tongue. When Seonghwa realised that you wouldn't push him away, he became bolder, more insistent, and more sexy. And that's how you ended it, sitting on Seonghwa's lap while he was happily warming up his cock in your pussy. The way that your hot, wet walls wrapped themselves around his thick, long cock was almost enough to drive him crazy.

You could stay like this for hours. But Seonghwa's greed only increased, as did his possessive side and, of course, his thirst to breed.

So it did not come as a surprise to you that the sessions to warm up his cock turned into long and tiring hours of passionate, almost animalistic sex or the dirty, non-stop eating of your pussy.

As for Hwa, from the first second you found yourself at home, the gentle, super-affectionate bunny was literally inseparable from you. Unlike the calculating and calmer Seonghwa, the bunny turned into a horny, needy mess at the slightest touch, so when you found him in your bed the first night after you adopted him, with his sugary, glistening lips wrapped around your nipple, you knew what your relationship with him would be like.

Kissing, touching, licking, biting, and all that without end. He didn't care what you did; he always wanted you, and he craved you so passionately that he wasn't at all ashamed of the fact that there was always a wet spot on his trousers from his leaking dick. It just proved how much he liked you. While you had some time to relax with Seonghwa, Hwa didn't let you breathe and always demanded your attention.

Are you working on the computer? This is the perfect time to bury my face in your pussy and suck your clitor and lick your little hole like the sweetest treat. Are you taking a bath? Hwa is already at your side to finger your pussy or warm his dick while you relax in the hot water. Are you cooking? That's no reason for him to resist bending you over the kitchen counter. Like Seonghwa, Hwa had an incredible thirst for breeding. Your pussy was always full of his sperm, which flowed down your legs, upsetting the charming rabbit and, what's the strangest thing, the calm snake.

You even had to stop wearing underwear at home to protect your expensive lace from being constantly sticky and wet.

Worst of all, despite being different species, Hwa and Seonghwa got along well together and even teamed up to attack you.

When your hybrids decided to play with you at the same time, it usually ended with you riding Hwa while your rabbit hungrily sucked on your tits, looking up at you with adoring eyes, squealing with pleasure, and roughly kneading your thighs until they were covered in red, aggressive marks. Seonghwa grabbed you from behind, wrapping his hand around your throat and choking you. His cock slid in and out of you in a completely different rhythm from Hwa's thrusts. His silky, hissing voice whispered the most depraved and dirty things to you, driving you even crazier.

The contrast between the blazing cold Seonghwa and the scorching warm Hwa was so stunning and striking that it brought you to orgasm within minutes. But when the boys started playing, it only ended when they were completely satisfied with you and your stomach was swollen from the amount of sperm they had poured into you.

Usually, you couldn't walk normally after that, and your whole body was covered with hickeys, bruises, and bites. Maybe you regretted your decision to adopt Hwa and Seonghwa. Sometimes, it was quite difficult to deal with them at the same time, not only because of their different types but also because of their too-needy and demanding characters. But when you felt their loving and caring arms around you as you came to after another orgasm, you thought that maybe it was the best decision you ever made in your life.

[tellyouily]

i'll take you all the way

dnf - fluff - late night conversations - 792 words

just dnf talking about silly things late at night and being very soft about it as per usual

my first dip into writing in a long while – i hope you enjoy!! :)

Credits start to roll on George’s laptop screen, and Dream lets his eyes fall shut to the familiar outro music. George’s warmth leaves him when he sits up to move the laptop onto the floor, and Dream is tired enough to try to pull him back immediately.

“Okay, chill,” George huffs, but Dream ignores it, burying his face in the back of George’s neck as soon as he’s lying down again.

“What even is that show?” Dream mumbles, his words muffled. “It’s ass.”

“It’s not,” George insists. They’ve had this discussion before, and Dream usually doesn’t win. Either way, he is happy to watch almost anything that George wants if it’s late enough and the day has been long enough.

George shuffles around and pushes at Dream’s shoulder gently, urging him to lay down flat so George can lay his head on his chest. “I think you like it subconsciously.”

Dream hums. Maybe he does—he honestly couldn’t name one detail of any episode they’ve watched. Mostly because he has been half– if not fully asleep for all of them. He closes his eyes and absentmindedly slips just his fingertips under the band of George’s sleep shorts.

“Dream.”

“Mm?”

“Do you think people actually have good sex on their honeymoons?”

“Wh–�� The absurdity of the question makes Dream laugh despite the exhaustion in his limbs. “I don’t know—how would I know that?”

He can only assume that he missed something to do with this in the episode, but if he’s honest it could just as well be taken completely out of thin air. George shrugs, “You know things.”

Dream tries to picture it—the first night together between a married couple. “I mean, I’d assume not,” he says eventually.

“Why?”

Dream sinks slightly into the hand playing with his hair, feeling so comfortable that he could slip away to sleep in less than a minute if he wanted.

“‘Cause you’d be tired from the wedding and the dinner and all of that,” he replies anyway, because George asked.

“And there’d be so much pressure,” he adds.

George hums thoughtfully.

“Plus… you’d probably both be super drunk, and like, overexcited.”

Dream fidgets with the fabric hem between his fingertips, his thumb grazing the soft skin of George’s stomach. He’s been getting toned this past year and Dream is as obsessed with it as he is with everything George-related: very .

“Also, some people save their first time for their wedding night, right? And that sex just… can’t be good. There’s no way.”

George snorts, which makes Dream laugh, too.

“Why is that funny?”

“Just is,” George says with another shrug. “Why do you know everything?”

Dream noses at soft curls. “I don’t, idiot.” He slides his hand across George’s stomach, “I just know the answers to your stupid questions.”

George laughs, carding his fingers through Dream’s hair and trailing them down to his ear, his jaw. His thumb ghosts Dream’s bottom lip, pressing into it once.

“We’d both fall asleep early,” he predicts after a moment.

Dream smiles, because George is probably right. “Yeah.”

Silence envelops them then, and Dream feels like he’s punishing himself when he reluctantly draws his hand away from George and pokes one leg out from the duvet. He turns to George, “I have to go put Patches in her room."

George sighs and stretches, and Dream leans in and kisses his face at random before getting up. "I'll be right back."

The tiles in the hallway are cold beneath his feet and it might just be how tired he is, but not being in his bed right now hits him like physical pain. It hurts enough to make him hurry up, beelining for the room he knows Patches is in.

His office is her favorite room in the house as much as it’s his least favorite right now. Both because it’s a room without his warm bed that currently has George in it, and because Fusion is slowly making him lose his mind. He finds Patches curled up into herself in her usual spot in his office chair, and lifts her carefully into his arms to take her to her room.

She would wake them all up at four a.m. if they let her roam free, so getting her a room was the compromise. That is, a room with food, water, a litter box, soft blankets, and a cat door she hasn’t realized (yet) that she can use whenever she wants.

Back in his own room, Dream has never been so ready to let sleep overtake him. He slips back under the sleep-warm covers, and smiles when George – already dead asleep – immediately melts to his side.

If their honeymoon ends anything like this, he couldn't be happier.

[hekateinhell]

♡ Hospital AU Lestat and Armand 🏥💕

*DYING at you picking an AU that technically does not exist yet lmao I'm obsessed! I really did love the back-and-forth tweet fic style thing with DA + everyone else who contributed because this one is just really fun and kinky and I've missed them!!

So for the sake of headcanons, let's say they're at the point in their relationship where they just started dating. Armand and therapist!Lestat are still engaging in unethical BDSM activities in the workplace (Armand is still seeing cute anesthesiologist!Daniel on the side; he doesn't ask about Lestat's extracurriculars).

Hospital AU tag for anyone who wants to know what exactly is going on here... you'll miss some stuff if you have the default 'Mature' content filters on, go check that if you follow me please. 🥹

NSFW below the cut.

Who is the most affectionate?

It's a weird transition from "Armand bending over Lestat's lap, spreading himself open and waiting for an insertion of some sort — in a purely professional capacity, of course" to "Hey, want me to pick you up after your shift? It'll be 3am..."

At first Lestat's somewhat hesitant to cuddle Armand because Armand just looks so standoffish and disinterested sometimes (hilarious considering Lestat's already had Armand panting and rutting against his jeans while Lestat fucks him with a silicone impression of his dick right there on his therapy couch).

But he gets over it by their second sleepover and just grabs Armand in this massive bear cuddle and pins him to his chest. Armand's startled at first but then he reaches up to grip Lestat's forearms and doesn't let go. Hard to envision a world where Lestat isn't the golden retriever boyfriend, and he is definitely still the most affectionate of the two, but Armand's much more open now that Lestat's ripped that Band-Aid off for them (so to speak).

Armand showing affection looks more like kissing Lestat's temple before leaving his office after one of their "therapy sessions", sore and hazy but grateful. Wrapping his arms around Lestat's back and pressing his cheek to his middle while he's trying to cook in Armand's kitchen (the first time that apartment has seen honest to goodness food). Touching Lestat's arm when they pass each other in the hallway, Armand pretending he hadn't just gotten rug-burn 10 minutes ago while he was busy choking on Lestat's dick and squirming on cheap carpet two rooms down (jk his gag reflex is excellent).

Who initiates the handholding?

Armand's not one for PDA so it's a Big Deal when he does reach for Lestat's hand to ground himself after a particularly rough shift if they're still in public/the hospital parking lot/running errands.

He does everything he can for his patients and his job is his whole identity, so he takes it very hard when something does go wrong.

He's a long way from ever even thinking about admitting it but sometimes Lestat's large, blazingly warm hands feel like the only thing keeping him tethered to reality.

Who worries more for the other?

Lestat worries about Armand a lot because he has the unhealthiest stereotypical baby surgeon habits—thinks he's invincible and can survive on Monster energy drinks and vending machine honeybuns and a combined six hours of sleep over a three-day period. He's seen a lot of young doctors crash and burn in the couple years he's been practicing at Trinity General.

Who is more likely to ask for help?

Lestat makes his living reminding people 'there's no shame in asking for help, we're all human', but it's always easier to preach rather to practice.

I'd say they both equally suck at this for very similar reasons: ego, pride, and trauma. Imagine a psychotherapist and a cardiothoracic surgeon asking for help.

Who is the one always losing the keys?

Armand can't remember when he ate his last "meal" or the last time he slept. It's Armand. At this point he more or less lives in Lestat's townhouse out of necessity (at least until he can find time to call the super and get another key and he will Not Be Doing That).

Who leaves little love notes for the other?

Since they're in the awkward, unofficial 'I know what your face looks like when you're having a god-tier orgasm but not your favorite food or color" stage, love notes look more like Lestat texting Armand "Did you eat today? I'll Uber you something to the hospital."

Or Armand simply asking him, "Text me when you're going to bed?" (which really means "Text me when you're staying put for the night so I know you're safe wherever you are.")

Comes more naturally to Lestat though for sure.

Who can’t sleep unless the other is there?

Lestat is finding more and more lately that he sleeps the best when Armand's ass is pressed up against his stomach. Or when somehow their positions switch up during the night and he wakes up from a dream to find his head over Armand's chest and Armand's hand in his hair.

Who is more likely to propose to the other?

ashsjksksgd don't mention that word right now, they'll both run for the hills.

(Lestat. He lowkey wanted to marry Armand ever since Armand took a stethoscope to his heart right in the middle of bouncing on his cock and came hard to the sound of Lestat's heart beating right out of his chest... it's exactly the kind of freakish behavior that captured Lestat's attention permanently and also his dick. It's... unusual, make no mistake, but also pretty fucking hot.)

Who introduced the other to their family first?

It's extremely unfortunate that Lestat's mother works at the same hospital in which he fucks his coworker on the regular. She knows, because Gabrielle knows all. She is unimpressed.

We'll say Lestat, even though he wishes very much that were not the case.

Who is more likely to play with the other’s hair?

Armand's getting better and better with showing affection (he's never had to do this before, he's never been in a situationship that wasn't based purely on sex). He's learning that Lestat really responds some kind of way to Armand dragging his nails through his hair and rubbing his scalp. And by some kind of way, I mean he makes the most pathetic whining sound and looks like he's in physical pain.

Who makes sure the other has meals/stays hydrated?

See 'love notes.'

It must be noted that Lestat is not above having Armand eat from his hand like a dog while he already has him pliant over his lap and laying in his own cum in the office, too blissed out and sweet to be snarky and dismissive.

(Also, this is Lestat. He's not completely selfless, don't get the wrong idea — at least 50% of this is rooted his own desire to not only be wanted but also needed).

Who is more likely to stand up to anyone for the other?

They're both feral, it's a tie.

Who is the most likely to prepare a surprise for the other?

Armand is not a fan of surprises, thank you very much. He experiences enough shocks in his day-to-day rummaging around people's chests.

Lestat on the other hand loves a good surprise; he's always exclaiming and gasping over stuff in a very childish and endearing way. Armand picks up on this early on in their dates and tries to surprise him throughout the week with little gifts (some of the adult and provocative nature).

Who makes the other pinky promise not to do certain things?

Lestat once dared say to Armand, "Pinky promise me you won't sleep in the on-call room for the fourth night in a row because you're that stressed out about your patient?"

Armand laughed in his face.

Who puts a blanket over the other when they fall asleep on the couch?

Both of them.

Lestat hunts down Armand during his lunch breaks (super casually, if he bumps into him it's purely coincidental) and sometimes he finds him asleep in the doctor's lounge or an empty patient's room, so he'll grab a blanket from the supply closet and tuck him in.

Lestat does actually work as well, and there have been times where Armand showed up for his "appointment" to find Lestat sound asleep on a pile of paperwork. Armand still privately thinks that what he does is more important (because he's a surgeon with a God complex), but he can't deny that Lestat's job also takes a very real toll on him. Armand raids the supply closet (different one) and even manages to slip a thin hospital pillow under Lestat's head while he frowns and sighs in his sleep.

It's one of those moments where things suddenly seem a little too real for Armand, and his own heart aches in a way he's not ready to acknowledge.

[authorssd]

Some things I do to make my cold apartment more tolerable in winter:

-KEEP A BLANKET BY YOUR DESK OR ON YOUR COMPUTER/OFFICE CHAIR: If you're at your desk for long periods of time, keep a blanket close by. Grab it when you're cold. And if your desk arrangement allows it and you have a personal electric heater close by, the blanket will help cover you and keep you warm where the personal heater misses spots. JUST BE MINDFUL AND CAREFUL ABOUT MAKING SURE YOU DON'T START A FIRE. If you put your blanket on your chair, the bigger the better, even if it touches the floor. You can drape it over your chair, then drape the blanket over yourself like a poncho, cape, hoodie or nun's habit (really just depends on how cold you are).

- KEEP A STOCKPILE OF BLANKETS ON/BY YOUR BED: the warmer the better, but if your blankets are thin, just layer as many of them together as possible. Make sure you always have at least 2 stockpiles you can cycle through so of one pile's in the wash, you'll still be covered til it's clean.

> if it's super cold and you happen to have a sleeping bag, you can use that too in closed or spread out form (can even make a good liner to rest on)

> if you sew and have a lot of textiles. You can also make your own quilts out of old clothes, blankets and other fabrics, especially if you have quilting batting, or other insulating batting.

- PUT PLASTIC OR DUCT TAPE ON THE WINDOWS IF YOU CAN: go to your local hardware store, ask for the plastic you put on windows to keep the cold out, follow manufacturer's directions. Alternatively you can use duct tape, covering up gaps where cold can come in. NEVER COVER OR TAPE UP A FIRE ESCAPE WINDOW, YOU COULD BE FINED AND PUT YOURSELF IN DANGER DURING AN ACTUAL EMERGENCY.

> if your fire escape window is a big reason why you're cold, you're better off getting thick curtains and keeping those curtains drawn as much as possible. If putting furniture in front of that window helps make the cold more manageable, it needs to be something you can chuck out of the way in the event you need to use that window to evacuate the residence.

- TAKE YOUR WINDOW AC OUT OF THE WINDOW: for those of us not blessed with central air and heating who have to use window ACs every year, make sure they're out of the window during the colder weather. If you're physically unable to remove it, have someone do it for you. If that fails and you, nor anyone around you can remove it, your best bet is to cover the AC with plastic garbage bags inside the home, and outside (if you can, do not ever put yourself in danger trying to cover the portion of the AC outside your home with plastic). Better to keep it in the window if it can't be removed than risk the AC and YOU falling together - especially if you live several floors/stories up. Keeping the curtains drawn for the window where your AC is set up will also help keep your room warmer.

- IF YOUR PET TENDS TO SLEEP BY THE RADIATOR OR HEATER, KEEP THAT SPACE CLEAN AND MAKE SURE THEY DON'T GET TOO CLOSE: you don't want Fluffy accidentally burning themselves by way of putting their head on a radiator, or setting themselves or their fur on fire by getting to close to an electric heater. Keep the area clean, but try to give them and teach them how to use a designated space close enough to the heat, but far away enough to keep them safe.

> Try to teach them to associate that area ONLY with rest and relaxation if they don't do that already. It'll save you the trouble of fishing toys out from the bottom of the radiator, cleaning food spills and messes, as well as reducing the likelihood of them tipping over an electric heater and starting a fire because they were feeling hyper (especially if your heater doesn't have an auto shut-off)

- PETS ARE LITTLE FUZZY HEATERS: if they like to snuggle, take advantage of it. This goes especially well with the above mentioned "blanket on your computer chair" idea, especially if your pets don't mind being covered by blankets and won't fuss you you drape one around them.

> WEAR HOUSE SLIPPERS WITH SOCKS: if you normally don't wear shoes inside the house, you might want to consider a pair of slippers at the very least. It'll keep your feet/toes warm. You could splurge on a pair of house-only slippers that are furry on the inside, but in a pinch, any pair of slip-on flats will do. You can also try finding thick socks with grips to wear over thinner socks to act as slippers.

Those are the only tips I can think of now, but all those come from personal experience when it comes to surviving the cold.

COLD WEATHER TIPS FROM SOMEONE WHO LIVES WHERE IT’S COLD:

I always see posts about layering clothing, but there are so many more creative ways to help keep you warm if you don’t have a lot of warm clothes. But first, a note on layering clothing:

-Your underlayer is your WICKING layer. That means it is a layer specifically to absorb the moisture your body produces. DO NOT USE COTTON AS A BOTTOM LAYER. Use merino wool if possible, but other good substitutions are nylon, polyester and rayon. 

-Your middle layer is for insulation. You want AIR POCKETS in there, NOT tight fitting clothes. This is where you want to put your fluffy sweaters, your fleece, down, fur, flannel, or vests. If you do not have these, you can substitute with multiple layers of long sleeve shirts.

-Your outer layer is for keeping the cold away from your body. If you do not have a jacket, you can put on your thickest piece of clothing and then a raincoat over it. Windbreaker if you have one. 

ALSO

-Jeans are the absolute worst at holding heat. Use only as a last resort. 

-You can’t really ever have too many layers on your feet. Alternate tucking your layers of pants into your layers of socks to keep your ankles warm!

-Wear a hat OVER a hood if it will fit! This will keep your ears warmest.

TAKE OFF/OUT ANY AND ALL JEWELERY/PIERCINGS

-If you have a medical bracelet, DO NOT REMOVE IT. If you can, tuck a layer of clothes between it and your skin.

NON-CLOTHING TIPS:

-Raid your recycling. Gather all cardboard boxes and break them down so that they are flat. Put them on the floor to add more layers between you and the cooling house. Newspaper will also serve the same purpose.

-In an emergency, you can also layer newspaper between clothing layers. Don’t worry about looking stupid if you’re staying warm.

-If you have a tent, set that sucker up in whatever room you have decided to stay in. Stay in it and keep it zipped shut as much as you can, but do NOT cover the vent at the top. You can put the rain fly up, but make sure there is circulating air for you to breathe.

-You are probably not going to feel very hungry at times. DO NOT STOP EATING OR DRINKING. Digestion produces a lot of body heat and the food will give your body energy to keep itself going.

-The best foods are heavy and full of carbs and proteins. Eat nuts, eggs, pasta, meats, and beans. If you are on a diet, now you’re not. If you’re vegetarian… bulk up on those pastas and nuts.

-Try not to sweat. If you are finding yourself getting damp, take off the outer layer just until you start to cool slightly. Then redress! Your bottom layer should dry quickly, and being wet is dangerous.

-On that note, STAY ACTIVE. You are probably going to want to hunker down and snuggle up, but that will make your muscles cramp. Every 15-20 minutes do something that gets you up and about. Walk circles in the room, do a couple jumping jacks, stretch, whatever. Just enough to move some blood around your body. Don’t get sweaty or out of breath, it’s just a little movement.

-CHAPSTICK. ON YOUR LIPS. ON YOUR NOSE. ON YOUR EARS. ON YOUR KNUCKLES. Don’t let your extremities get dry or cracked.

SIGNS OF HYPOTHERMIA:

-Uncontrollable shivering -Slurred speech -Confusion or memory loss -Dizziness or lack of coordination -Inability to be woken from sleep

CHILDREN AND INFANTS!!!! I CANNOT STRESS THIS ENOUGH.

-Children WILL get colder before you. Make sure they are properly bundled up.

-If you need to breastfeed, put a blanket over the both of you and wait a few minutes for the air to warm before removing or shifting your clothing.

-DO NOT COVER AN INFANTS FACE. ESPECIALLY WHEN SLEEPING. Keep them tucked inside your own clothes when possible. As close to your heart and stomach as possible. 

-Put chapstick on children’s cheeks and clean their face often if they are crying or wiping at their nose. This will prevent cracked skin and irritation.

-Make sure your children are staying as hydrated as you! They are going to fuss and not want to drink cold things, but they NEED liquids.

SIGNS OF HYPOTHERMIA IN INFANTS AND TODDLERS ARE DIFFERENT:

-Shortness of breath  -Cold, red skin -Lethargy or listlessness

Finally:

CHECK ON YOUR NEIGHBORS. CHECK ON CHILDREN. CHECK ON THE ELDERLY. STAY SNUGGLED. STAY SAFE.

[nickfowlerrr]

sweet as sugar 💘

part one / part two / part three / part five

pairing: lee bodecker x reader

warnings: 18+ only. a whole lotta fluff and a whole lotta smut. unprotected sex. reader gets a little sick.. i don’t think there’s anything else, but if you feel something should be tagged that i didn’t mention, please let me know!

words: 6.4k

notes: i love them so much 🥺 i hope you guys like this as much as i do. it’s super fluffy but they’re so cute. part five is basically completely lined out, and has been for like a year lol, i just need to fill it in properly now that part three and four are finished. get your fill of fluff now bc part five is a little more angsty.. but it’ll be good i swear 😚 anyway! as always, feedback and comments are more than welcome, i’d love to know what you think. i hope you guys like it and thank you for reading and reblogging 🥰

A little over an hour later, you were surprised by Lee pulling into his own driveway. You turned to him from your seat and raised an eyebrow at him.

“You forget something?” you asked.

“No. I told you I was taking you to dinner, didn’t I?”

“You said you had reservations at a restaurant,” you laughed.

“I do. Table for 2 at The Sheriff’s Abode,” he said with a smirk.

“The Sheriff’s Abode, huh? Never heard of it. How’s the reviews?”

“5 stars. I eat here almost every night,” he replied as he got out of the cruiser and helped you after him.

You laughed again and shook your head at him - following behind as he led you to his front door. You found yourself nervously chewing your lip as he stood there unlocking it. You hadn’t actually been to his place before. Sure, you had planned to go there on multiple occasions, but considering yours was closer to the station than Lee’s house, you just always ended up there instead. As he pushed the door open and ushered you inside, you took your time looking around. It was a big house. A lot bigger than you had imagined it to be. The living room off to the side had an olive green sofa against the back wall and a sitting chair in the same style to the right of it, with a recliner to the left that was angled in the direction of the television that was on a stand against the wall opposite the furniture. And a coffee table, too, with an ashtray and a small candy dish filled with a mix of candies. Your heart warmed at that. You knew how much Lee enjoyed his sweets, but there was more to it, knowing that they helped curb his desire to drink, had helped him kick the habit. Sure some could say it was switching one bad habit for another, but you knew better.

He didn't let his indulgences get the best of him anymore. You remember when you first started working at the station, everytime you walked into his office to give him something, be it messages, or files, or just another cup of coffee, there would be candy wrappers scattered around his desk and his trash can would be full of them by the end of the day. Now, though, he’d had the same dish of hard candies on his desk for the past month and hardly remembered they were there half the time. Instead of trying to drown his problems in a bottle or distracting himself with desserts, he was a lot better about talking about his issues and not letting them eat at him. Now he wasn’t perfect, but he was better. And you assured him you’d always be a shoulder for him to lean on. In general he just seemed like he was happier..and that made you happy, too.

As you continued looking around, you admired how neat and well kept everything was. As you entered the kitchen just beyond the living room, you found it much the same.

Everything had a place and there wasn’t even a dirty dish in the sink. You turned to Lee as you spoke, “Wow. Is it always this neat or did you tidy up just for me?”

“I try to keep the place clean, really there’s not much to clean around here anywhere. When I’m not at the station or on patrol, I’m with you. I get home, eat dinner, get ready for bed, sleep, get up for work, head to the station and do it all again,” he said while he took ingredients out of his fridge and cabinets. “Though I will admit, I did make sure everything looked nice before I left this morning. Gotta make sure I leave you with a good impression of the house, seeing as you’re gonna be around here more often now,”

“Oh, am I?” you quipped.

“Every chance I get to have you here, I’m gonna take,” he stated as he turned to look at you. “You can look around, if you want. Bathroom is upstairs and the dining room is just across from the living room. You can get comfortable,” he told you as he moved to wash his hands in the kitchen sink that you were standing next to, “Won’t be too long before this is done,” he finished.

“I will absolutely look around, but I can do that after. I can help you make dinner,” you offered but Lee simply shook his head.

“No, darlin’. You’ve been in the kitchen long enough since Thursday. You get the day off, I wanna make something for you this time,” he insisted as he gently pushed you out of the kitchen and into the living area again, “I trust you’ll find your way back here, but I’ll come find you when it’s ready if you don’t,” you stopped and almost turned around to ask if there was anything you could do to help, but he spoke again before you got a word out, “Table’s already set so don’t even ask,” he finished with a playful slap to your bottom that caused you to let out a small squeak.

“Lee,” you gasped, smoothing down the skirt of your dress as you turned to him, causing him to chuckle.

“Sorry, sugar. Couldn’t help myself,” he said lustfully as he grabbed your waist and pulled you into him. “I love you being here, in my house. Feels right,” he said as he looked down at you. You responded by leaning up and kissing him softly on the lips.

“Anywhere feels right with you,” you whispered. You felt him squeeze you a little tighter before he let you go and spun you around.

“Go on, darlin’. And you can turn on the tv if you get bored. This won’t take long,” he said again.

“Alright, alright. I’m going. Don’t get mad at me if you catch me snooping through your things. You’ve brought this upon yourself now,” you said as you walked toward the staircase leading to the second level. Lee didn’t say anything, you just heard him laugh in response.

After a few minutes passed and he was sure you were distracted upstairs, Lee went out to his car and grabbed the overnight bag he packed for you, along with the basket of apples you had left on the seat. He thought if you heard him going out, you’d assume he was just getting that anyway and wouldn’t think anything of it. He was relieved to not find you waiting for him when he came back inside and went to set your bag down on the chair next to the sofa before returning to the kitchen where he placed the basket. Before he could really get started on making anything, though, he heard you coming back down the stairs.

You went through each room. There were two spare bedrooms down the hall upstairs, and of course the master bedroom where Lee slept. It was very well kept and smelled just like him. You couldn’t deny that you felt at home, though that didn’t surprise you at all. You sat on his bed and imagined what it would be like to fall asleep there with Lee holding you in his arms. Then your mind wandered to what it would feel like to be there beneath Lee…making you his again and again. You quickly got up and squeezed your thighs together while smoothing the skirt of your dress again. You couldn’t think about that right now. Lee was trying to impress and take care of you, going out of his way to make you a lovely dinner, while welcoming you into his home for the first time and here you were just fantasizing about him laying you down and taking you apart. Shame on you, you chided yourself. You’re acting like a horny teenager, you need to get yourself together. You looked into the mirror attached to his dresser and attempted to collect yourself before walking back downstairs. As you walked down the very last step, Lee came around the corner.

“Hi,” you breathed, looking briefly surprised at his abrupt appearance as you greeted him where he stood directly in front of you. You found yourself gazing into his bright blue eyes and almost immediately lost any semblance of self control you had tried to latch onto just a minute previous.

“Found anything interesting up there?” he asked jokingly.

“Well… that comfy looking bed certainly caught my eye,” you said suggestively as you stared up at him, wrapping your arms around his waist and pulling him closer so that you were against his chest.

Warm, he was always so warm. You smiled into his chest as he wrapped his arms around you in return and then pulled back to look at him, his gaze boring into your own.

“Did it now?” he smirked.

“Mhm. Looked big enough to roll around in, too..”

“Well that’s a theory I’d love to test out with you, sugar,” he said as he leaned down to catch your lips in his. You stood there a minute just kissing, losing yourselves in one another before you started to pull back and turn to tug him up the stairs with you. He gently grabbed your arms before pulling you back to face him.

“After I make you dinner, pretty girl,” he chuckled, earning him a pout from you in return.

You huffed, “Or you can just make dinner after and… have me right now,”

“Such a needy little thing, ain’t cha,”

“Just for you, Sheriff,’ you simpered as you stared up at him. You could tell you were winning him over, and from the way his pupils dilated when you brushed up even closer against him, your chest firmly against his, you knew he was going to give in.

And Lee would always give in to you. All he ever wanted to do since meeting you was make you happy. Anything you could ask for, he would give you. You already had all of his heart. He was entirely consumed by you. He was desperately in love with you. So, dinner be damned, he thought. He didn’t want to wait any longer, especially with you standing in front of him, looking at him the way you did, willingly giving yourself to him to take as he pleased. And he’d give the same to you in return. Always.

He groaned when your hand brushed the front of his pants, his noticeable bulge growing at your gentle touch and the mere thought of you naked on his bed for him.

“Hell, you know I can’t deny you when you look at me so pretty, babydoll. Go head back up, I’ll be right behind you,” he said before kissing you again, letting himself get a little more rough with you before letting you go as you bit your lip lightly and watched him back away to head back to the kitchen. You felt excited as you turned and headed straight for his bedroom.

Lee worked quickly throwing all the food that needed to be put back in the fridge away before he grabbed your bag off the couch and brought it upstairs with him, dropping it by the bedroom door before he made his way inside. His heart clenched in his chest at the sight he was greeted with when he pushed the door open.

You had stripped and laid yourself down on his bed, clad only in your bra and panties. He unconsciously licked along his bottom lip as he drank you in.

Pushing yourself up on your elbows, you beckoned him closer.

“You gonna join me, Sheriff?” you asked demurely.

He was on you in the blink of an eye, his weight pushing you into the bed as he found your lips, kissing you fervently. The sight of you all laid out for him on his bed was making him near feral. His lips trailed down your neck as you mewled at his touches, his hands sliding down your sides before snaking around your back to unclasp your bra. Once he removed the garment, his attention was all on your full breasts. He took one of your nipples into his hot mouth and suckled on the bud while his hand played with your other, squeezing your breast, kneading it in his large hand before he let go of the breast in his mouth and delivered the same attention to the other. Light gasps and mewls were tumbling from your lips as your hands ran through his short hair.

“Lee,” you moaned when he sucked hard at your pert nipple, teeth grazing your delicate skin. You started pulling at his shirt, urging him to get undressed with you. He took his pullover off, but then went right back to attacking your skin with his lips. It took longer than you would have liked for him to focus on getting the rest of his clothes off, but you couldn’t deny enjoying the way he continued showering you in kisses and love bites in the meanwhile.

Finally, he rid himself of his pants quickly while you worked at unbuttoning his shirt before he took over and removed it completely. You tugged again at his undershirt, wanting it off, too. Soon you were both in only your underwear as your lips returned to his, you pulling him back down on top of you, hands wandering each other's bodies like it was the first time all over again. You’d never get enough of him, you swore it.

You felt his cock against you, hard and hot, and sticky you realized. Looking down, you saw he was leaking precum onto his stomach and yours as the head of his cock was sticking out of his briefs. You grabbed at the briefs and tugged them down, allowing his cock to spring free. You moaned at the sight of him.

“Like what you see, sugar?” he grinned, causing you to giggle in return as you brought your hand down to stroke him gently, all the while nodding in response.

“It’s all yours,” he breathed headily, squeezing his eyes tight at the pressure you were applying while you twisted your hand around his length. He was holding himself above you before he moved to sit on his haunches, the movement not interrupting your own as you sat up with him.

“Lay down, darlin’,” he instructed as he removed your hand from around his cock while you huffed, going to argue, you decided against it when he shot a look your way telling you you’d better just listen. You swallowed hard and laid back down on the bed. His hands trailed from your breasts, down your sides lightly tickling you as they did until he landed on your hips. He traced the laced lined hem of your panties before you lifted your hips to help him get them down as he pulled them off of you completely, humming in pleasure as he spread your legs open to find you wet and ready for him. He couldn’t help himself from getting a taste of you, his favorite sweet. As his lips kissed your wet sex, you moaned out at the delicious feeling. His tongue slipped out past his lips as he took hold of your thighs, pulling you closer to him as he licked through your delicate folds. He was having the time of his life devouring you as you whimpered and whined and writhed around from the pleasure he was giving you, your hands holding him ever closer as you began to move against him. His nose was nudging at your clit while he ate you out like a man starved before he slipped two thick fingers into you, making you gasp out at the unexpected stimulation. While he continued lapping at you, massaging you with his fingers, hitting just the right spot, you were becoming more and more of a mess for him, pleas and moans of his name tumbling from your lips as he brought you closer and closer to your orgasm. The moment his sweet lips wrapped around your sensitive clit, he had you seeing stars as you came on his fingers that continued coaxing you through your orgasm, his mouth still sucking at your bundle of nerves, not leaving you until he was thoroughly satisfied.

“Oh, Lee,” you nearly cried, tugging him back on top of you. He followed your movements and as he leaned over you and brought his lips back to yours. You moaned at the taste of yourself still on his tongue.

“You’re so good, Lee. So good,” you panted out your praise while he continued kissing everywhere he could.

Your thighs were spread wide around him as your hands clutched at his built back and you found yourself getting impatient as you rolled your hips up to signal your want. He hissed at the contact against his heavy cock.

“Fuck, sweetheart. So impatient. Don’t you worry, baby. I’m gonna give you exactly what you need,” he told you, voice thick with lust.

You let your hands trail up and down his back while he kissed down your neck once more. He pulled back, smirking at you while you stared at him, your need clear on your face, eyes begging for him. He grabbed his cock and moved it up and down your dripping pussy, teasing your clit with his tip while you whined more. He tsked at you when your leg twitched and you tried to wiggle your hips to get more friction, moving his hand to hold you still.

“I just told you I’m gonna give you what you need, didn’t I?” he asked, voice even deeper now.

You didn’t answer at first, just staring at him with your mouth slight agape.

“Didn’t I?” he repeated himself, sending a thrill through you as he spoke so authoritatively.

“Yes, Sheriff, you did,” you ekked out.

“Then why do you keep fuckin fidgiting?” he growled as his grip on your hip got tighter. You whimpered before you forced yourself to respond.

“‘M sorry, Sheriff,”

“You gonna be my good girl, now, aren’tcha, darlin’,” he asked, though it wasn’t so much a question as an order and it set you alight.

“Yes, I’ll be good, Lee, I promise,” you breathed out while lightly running your nails down his back. He leaned back down and kissed you, passionately, though you could feel his tenderness running through as he released his hold on your hip and instead ghosted his fingers down your thighs.

“Good girl,” he praised against your lips. You keened at the praise and couldn’t hide your smile as you took in his words.

You watched as he lined himself up at your entrance before he used his free hand to get you to look back up at his face, holding eye contact with you as he slowly pushed himself inside of you. Your mouths both fell open at the feeling before he leaned down and kissed you again, soft and deep, as he pulled back out to the tip, before sliding right back in your snug walls. Your breath hitched as he moved a little faster, his soft belly pressing against your own as he leaned over you, pushing your thighs up while he put his weight against you as he continued to thrust in you. His breath was heavy and each time he moaned, you felt yourself squeeze his cock in response, his noises turning you on even more.

As he held your thighs, your own hands clutched at the sheets beneath you while you moaned out. His every thrust stimulating your clit and g-spot simultaneously. You couldn’t escape the onslaught of pleasure he was giving you and you didn’t want to. You moved your hand down to rub your clit while Lee rocked into you.

“Fuck, sugar, you got me aboutta burst,” he groaned as he hit into you deeper with every stroke as his hips continued grinding against you.

“I’m gonna come, Lee. Oh, you’re gonna make me come,” you cried beneath him.

“Let go, baby. Let me feel you squeeze my cock while you come all over me,” he panted. You didn’t need to hear anything else, the moment he told you to let go, you felt your walls tighten even more around his length as you cried out a “fuck”, your second orgasm of the night hitting you like a freight train, completely taking over you and your senses.

The tightening of your slick walls around him had him losing himself in your pussy. After a few more thrusts, your name, intermingled with curses, was falling from his lips as he came as deep as he could get himself inside of you. He rode out both of your highs before he slowly pulled out of you, groaning at the feeling and the sight of his come leaking from you as you whined at the loss of him filling you. He once again leaned over you, your body clearly spent, as he held your face in his hands, kissing you tenderly yet fervently. He only pulled away when you were both out of breath.

“Don’t move, sweetheart,” he breathed against your cheek as he nuzzled against you for a second before he got up off the bed.

You watched him move to the bathroom as you caught your breath, looking around your eyes landed on the nightstand next to the bed, noticing a frame you hadn’t realized was there earlier. You sat up and reached over to get a better look at it. Your eyes widened at the sight, your hand coming up to cover your mouth before you grabbed it off the stand. In the black frame was a picture that had been taken at the station of you and Lee. You were both laughing as he sat on the side of your desk and you were looking up at him from your chair, admiration clear on your face as his eyes were squinted from the happiness spread across his face as he looked back at you. You had never seen that picture before, you had no idea it even existed. But it was now your favorite picture to ever exist. Lee walked back in the room and saw you looking at the photo.

“Vera took that at the office party the other month. She was gonna put it up in the break room with the others, but I convinced her to let me have it,” he smiled. “I was gonna show you but I knew you’d want to keep it and, you know I’m a selfish bastard, I wanted to have it here, to see you smiling like that every morning I get up and every night before I go to bed,” he continued.

You turned to him with tears in your eyes, laughing lightly.

“You’re not selfish, Lee,” you shook your head at him, admonishing him lightly. “But you are right,” you smiled. “I would’ve taken it for myself, too.”

He climbed back on the bed, taking the frame from your hand and putting it back in it’s place before he gently pushed you to lie back down.

“Thought I told you not to move,” he spoke quietly against your cheek before kissing you gently.

“Sorry,” you hummed as you fought a smile while he moved back between your legs, and you finally took notice of the washcloth he had in his hand.

Gently, he cleaned you up, treating you with such care, you felt like a princess in his bed, your hands playing in his hair as he kneeled in front of you. When he was done, he helped you up and as you got off the bed, he stood behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist as you melted into him, your head reclining against his solid chest as you placed your hands atop his, just enjoying his comfort as he nuzzled into your neck before letting you go. You smiled as you continued into the bathroom, relieving yourself and washing up before you returned to the room.

You weren’t sure what time it was, but the sky was dark from what you could tell from behind the curtains. Though you really didn’t want to, you knew you should probably be getting home soon. Lee had slept over at your place before, but you had never slept at his, or any man’s house, for that matter. And you weren’t prepared to stay the night either. You didn’t have anything with you. It’d be best just to get home and see Lee tomorrow, you thought begrudgingly.

“Why’re you sulking, doll?” Lee asked worriedly.

“‘M not,” you said as he pulled you back on the bed with him, wrapping his arms around you.

“‘S not what your face is sayin,” he prodded. “What’s wrong?”

“Well, it’s getting late, isn’t it. I should probably be leavin soon,” you muttered.

“You wanna leave?” he asked, sounding hurt.

“I didn’t say that,” you responded swiftly. “And I don’t… just seems like the next logical step would be for me to go home.”

“I think the next logical step would be to get your pajamas on while I order us a pizza before we get ready for bed,” he argued.

You smiled at the thought, “That’d be nice, wouldn’t it,” you laughed. “Too bad I don’t have any sleepwear,” you said as if it was obvious.

“Don’t you?” he asked before he got up and walked to his door, grabbing your bag off the floor. You stared perplexed as he brought the bag to you and opened it up, pulling out your pajamas and handing them to you as you stared stupidly at the clothes.

“When did-?” you began to question before he answered you, knowing what you were going to say.

“When you were getting ready this morning. I told you I had this day all planned out,” he smiled.

“You planned out getting me naked in your bed, Sheriff?” you asked, pretending to be scandalized.

He laughed at you as he went in to kiss you sweetly, “I love you,” he smiled against your lips as he spoke without really thinking. You froze as he pulled away, clearly he hadn’t realized what he had said.

“What’d you say?” you rasped, grabbing his hand before he pulled away completely, eyes searching his looking for some sort of recognition in them.

He looked at you a moment, before he realized what he said, looking down at your hand in his, squeezing it before he looked back up at you.

“I was gonna wait for a better moment to tell you that,” he breathed.

“Say it again,” you whispered.

He looked you in the eyes, gazing adoringly at you as you were both still at your most vulnerable.

“I love you,” he said as he leaned in to kiss you again. Your hands went to his face, pulling him to you as you kissed him, pouring every once of love you had for him into it.

“I love you,” you breathed against his lips, voice nearly breaking as you teared up again..the third time that day, you realized. Normally, you weren’t so emotional, but lately you kinda felt like you were all over the place. You didn’t overthink it, though. This was an emotional moment, you were allowed to cry. You pulled him closer, wrapping your arms around him as he did the same, discarding the bag of your things back on the floor, your pajamas following suit as you rolled on the sheets with him, giggling now.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to say that to you,” he said.

“I think I have some idea,” you smiled before nuzzling into his chest as he held you close.

“Would you mind staying the night with me, darlin’? I meant what I said earlier. I want to see you every morning when I wake up and every night before I go to sleep.”

“I’d like nothing more,” you nodded as you moved up to kiss his cheek, moving your leg to lay across his torso as you leaned up further to take his lips in yours again. “I love you so much, Lee,” you sighed as you rested your head against his. His hand gripped your thigh that was laying on him as he kissed your temple. “I love you more,” he swore quietly.

Your stomach growled suddenly, causing you both to laugh. “You said something about ordering a pizza,” you smiled sheepishly.

A little while later found you eating a slice of pizza, cozy in your warm pajamas while Lee got changed upstairs. You and Lee couldn’t keep your hands to yourselves when you were waiting for the food to be delivered and that resulted in you having another round of sex, this one even sweeter and gentler than before. When you were both beyond satisfied, you decided to just get in the shower together, the both of you sweaty from the day's activities anyway. After drying off, you found your pjs and got dressed. When the knock came downstairs, you were a little preoccupied with Lee’s cock down your throat. You had no explanation as to why, but you had just been so needy and horny lately, you couldn’t help yourself. Luckily, you had put your pajamas on before you had dropped to your knees before Lee as you interrupted him getting his own on. He handed you the money from his wallet that you’d need to pay the delivery man and you made your way downstairs to get the food after you wiped your face clean.

Lee finally joined you and after you both finished eating, you made your way back upstairs. Lee had a toothbrush for you and your heart leaped at the thought he had put into tonight, making sure you’d have everything you’d need and that you were comfortable.

When you were both ready for bed, you nestled up to him under the covers while he wrapped his arms around you protectively.

“This is nice,” you commented in the comfortable quiet.

“This is perfect,” he murmured in return, squeezing you a little tighter. “God, I love you, angel,” he spoke, his exhaustion evident in his voice.

“I love you more,” you swore, your voice thick with sleep as well. You felt him kiss your forehead lovingly, his hands rubbing your back soothingly before you finally fell asleep in his warm embrace.

The turning of your stomach woke you up, and you crawled out of bed, careful not to wake Lee up as you did. You rushed to the bathroom as soon as your feet touched the cold ground, shutting the door quietly before you threw the lid of the toilet up. After your stomach was empty and you were sure you were done being sick, wiping your forehead and trying to calm your heaving throat you flushed and went to the sink, washing your hands before throwing some water on your face. It must have been the pizza, you told yourself. You knew you had a slice too many, but you didn’t think it would have made you so sick. The morning light was shining through the small bathroom window so you rinsed your mouth with water and you brushed your teeth before walking back into the room.

Lee was still sleeping peacefully and you didn’t want to worry him over nothing, so you crawled back under the blankets and nuzzled against him once again. It was Sunday morning and it couldn’t have been past 7am. You didn’t want to wake him up, but as you laid there, you were starting to get a little ancy. Still doing your best not to disturb him, you slipped out again and made your way downstairs. You figured you could make him some coffee, and see if he had anything you could make for breakfast. You couldn’t imagine the last time he probably had breakfast in bed, and you smiled to yourself at the idea of how sweet it would be to do for him.

As you brewed the coffee and scrambled some eggs, you heard creaking coming down the steps. You spun around as Lee entered the kitchen, a smile gracing your face as you held the whisk in your hand still.

“There you are darlin’. I missed waking up to that pretty face of yours,” he cooed as he walked up to you, trapping you against the counter as his hands wrapped around your waist, his lips softly brushing yours as your eyes shut in bliss.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” he kissed you again.

“Good morning,” you breathed, “I made coffee,” you mumbled against his lips before you kissed him again, deeper this time.

“Mm,” he hummed against your lips as he pulled back and stood to his full height.

“I was gonna give you breakfast in bed,” you pouted slightly.

“I was hoping you would too,” he winked. Your mouth fell open, as you swatted his shoulder and he chuckled at your reaction.

“I’m serious,” you added.

“I’m serious, too, sugar,” he argued. “But this is good, too, dontcha think?

Let me make breakfast with you,” he simpered as he took the whisk and bowl from you, taking over.

“The mugs are in that cabinet, there,” he nodded toward the cabinet behind you. You got two out and poured you each a cup of coffee, though the smell had your stomach turning again and you took a deep breath, swallowing down the lump in your throat, willing your stomach to settle. You kept the mug, but didn’t drink any, not wanting to really make yourself sick. You prepared Lee’s cup all the same while he started on pancakes.

You could feel yourself smiling like a fool as you watched him work on the food, eventually walking up behind him and wrapping your arms around him, hugging him while you pressed your cheek to his back, squeezing him tight. He put down the spatula he was holding and took your hands on his stomach in his, turning around to look down at you with a smile of his own.

“You really are the prettiest little thing I’ve ever seen,” he admired you.

“You’re not too bad yourself, handsome,” you smiled back, pushing against him.

“Ah, don't get me started, sugar,” he groaned. “You’re gonna make me burn the pancakes,” he accused.

You laughed at him, pulling away gently before you leaned back against the counter behind you.

“Plus I don’t wanna wear you out so early. I plan on making the most of our day off today, darlin’,” he told you as he took the pancakes off the griddle and piled them onto a plate.

“Oh yeah? What’ve you got planned for us?”

He turned to you and looked you up and down, eyes darker already as he got closer. “We’ll start with breakfast,” he began smoothly, wrapping his strong arms around your waist. “Then I’m gonna take you back up to bed,” he continued, leaning down and placing a kiss to your cheek, “and see how many times I can make you come before you’re beggin’ me to stop,” he purred in your ear while you melted into him weakly as he spoke.

“Then we’ll have lunch. And I’ll make love to you all over again before I finally get to make you dinner,” he said as he tilted your face up to look at him. “And after that,” he said, kissing you softly again, “I’ll take you back upstairs for dessert,” he smirked.

“Sounds like we have a full day ahead of us,” you breathed, feeling yourself get hot as you leaned further into him. He nodded in agreement as he licked his lip.

“And seeing as you’re gonna be naked all day, you’ll still have a perfectly good outfit for work tomorrow. That is if you wanna stay again,” he proposed.

“Yeah?” you asked coyly as you pulled back from him before he grabbed your hands in his.

“Mhm,” he nodded, pulling you back against him.

“Well..in that case,” you simpered, “I guess I’ll stay,” you pretended to acquiesce before you hugged him warmly, smiling into his chest when he kissed the top of your head.

The smell of the bacon Lee had put on was taking over your senses and you suddenly found yourself feeling a lot hungrier than you thought you were, especially after your little bit of sickness earlier. Lee served you a plate and made one of his own as you enjoyed each other’s company, eating and talking about whatever crossed your minds.

As Lee took your empty plate and put it in the sink to join his, he turned to look at you. His eyes were shining with happiness as he just stared for a moment.

“I’m really happy you’re here,” he told you sincerely.

“I’m really happy I’m here, too,” you smiled back.

“I think I could get used to this. I’d like to see you here all the time,” he continued.

“Well, you might just have to,” you pondered. “I’m getting pretty comfortable around here already.”

“That’s not a problem for me,” he assured you. “I’d keep you with me forever if I could.”

“Careful there Sheriff or you’re gonna find yourself stuck with me,” you warned him as you leaned up on your tip toes to kiss him sweetly.

“That’s the plan, darlin’,” he said against your lips as he went in for a deeper kiss. “Let’s get you back in bed, huh,” he suggested with a devilish look in his clear blue eyes.

“Sounds good to me, honey,” you agreed, voice dripping with desire as you eyed him wantingly.

Without another word, Lee was pulling you up the stairs with him as he led the way back to his bedroom where you were sure to spend the better part of your day lavashing your love on one another. You could spend the rest of your life with him and you didn’t think you’d ever get over how lucky or in love you were. You laughed as Lee pushed you down on the bed and crawled on top of you, attacking you with kisses as his hands pulled at your clothes. Yesterday was amazing, but you were sure today and every day after would only be better with Lee at your side.

[leblancdamoiselle]

𝐒𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐁𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐲 𝐈𝐈

𝙖/𝙣. Hiiiiiii so so so sorry that it took me like a good two weeks to finally post again. I had a mid term exam and yes it's two weeks long (crazy ik) but here you go, I really hope it will be able to fill my absence enjoy guys <3

𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙖𝙜𝙨. oneshot, fluff, mature theme but like sfw i think, curse words

𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜. Dazai Osamu x Nakahara Chuuya's twin sister!Reader

𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙘𝙞𝙖𝙡 𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣. @catzlivedforbsd (I'M SO SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG(´。＿。｀)

‎

You have been standing in the spacious room, accompanied by the lights of evening Yokohama through the soaring glass panels; for half an hour talking about a job Boss wanted you to take,

He asked you to bring Dazai back (for the 1000th time) and you started to grow tired of it.

"How many times should I tell you that—no, he will not join Port Mafia for the second time, even if you give him a chair in the executives."

Dazai's decisions are absolute and firm. Even without asking, you already know that he will reject that offer right away, even if it means giving up a superior position in the Mafia.

You left Mori's office, head heavy from all the thoughts and the Arahabaki's noises inside you.

Being second-in-command in the Port Mafia is tough, too many jobs to do, too many visits to make, plus, the Arahabaki is not really helping. You wish you can just control it like how Kouyou commands her Golden Demon.

The elevator stops at a floor, Hirotsu can be seen standing by it after the elevator doors slides open.

"Good evening, Nakahara-dono, heading home?" He bowed out of respect after he let himself in the elevator,

"Yes... Home," you sighed, "How about you, Hirotsu-san?"

"As busy as ever, us Black Lizards never really sleep,"

"I see, I'll see you later around then, goodnight Hirotsu-san." You excused yourself as the elevator reaches ground floor.

It's raining thunderstorms tonight and you don't really feel like going back to your house yet—you want to go home.

You

Chuuya

I'm going elsewhere tonight

Don't forget to lock the door bitchass

Chuuya

Where to?

You let Chuuya play with his imaginations figuring out where would you be headed to and leaving him on read.

The sound of engines starting echoes in the Port Mafia headquarter's basement. Giving pressure to the gas pedal, the red McLaren made its way out from the basement, cutting through the rain.

Yokohama is drenched by the water falling from clumps of livid clouds to which became a stonewall for one's eyes to see the twinkling stars, how beautiful a weather can be in the evening.

You didn't even bother to text him that you're coming over

The car halted in a narrow parking space.

To get an umbrella in the backseat is too much of an effort to you, after all; you can just manipulate the pouring water's gravity to avoid soaking your clothes.

"I should have brought some food," you sighed.

At rainy nights, what is better than warm food and a hot drink. And it's Dazai, there's nothing but canned foods in his place; if there is, then it must be you who brought and cooks it for him.

Sixteen years old Dazai lived in a shipping container somewhere hidden in a dumping site. Youngest executive who? All he got is ill-treatments. Since then, Dazai is only used to eat canned foods—and that hurt you in a lot of ways.

You stand in front of his apartment door, not knowing whether he's home or away, you're just there.

"Hey loser, it's your master, (Y/n)," you knocked

There was anything but a sound or response, maybe he's asleep, who knows.

It's only natural to have a spare key to his apartment. At times, Dazai will be out, asleep or ear-blocked by his super loud headphones, thus he gave you the key.

You unlocked the door, the foyer was dimmed and the only source of light is from the kitchen,

"Osamu?"

Seems like he's not here.

His house is warm on the inside... it smells like him too; clean, sweet and very subtle.

You took yourself to the kitchen—finding a tiny note taped to the refrigerator,

'Hi hi would my master be kind enough to prepare her doggo's bath -Osamu'

It must've slipped through his fingers; the thought that this night you are coming over to his place. You're kind of irritated—not sure of the reason though,

Dazai teases you a lot, and you get pissed easily over little things he does, but not in a serious way.

You clicked your tongue to the idea of Dazai, an Armed Detective Agency member got you, a Port Mafia executive; wrapped around his little finger.

Even with your ability to manipulate gravity, it feels heavier to walk. After many obstacles, you made it to Dazai's bathroom.

Surprise!

Seems like Dazai oversmarted you again. The bathub was already filled with bubbles. Something pricks your nose, it's a sweet and clean scent—Dazai's scent.

There are candles lit surrounding the tub, not exaggerated but just so perfect to have a long calming bath.

To hard too believe that the Osamu Dazai did this

You froze at the second you felt a warm hand around your waist,

"Hi Princess," his soft voice greets you.

"God, Dazai! You scared the shit out of me—hey! Where were you?!"

You didn't even hear him coming.

"I was out for a case, and I'm suuuuper exhausted, I think a bath with (Y/n) would be nice," he whined as he rests his forehead to your shoulder.

"As if," you restrain,

"Aah- too bad then," he paused "I have to enjoy it alone," he whispered.

Lord, he's such a tease.

Dazai moved his head and went in to kiss the back of your neck, sending you chills all over your body,

"Fuck, alright, I'm going in first!"

You can feel his smirk of victory as his face is so close to your neck.

You're hiding it. You are hiding the fact that your heart beats faster, you are hiding your flustered face when Dazai did that. You hate it, you hate that he is the only one who can make feel this way.

"Good, in you go, Miss Nakahara."

[xxdragonwriterxx]

hello, can i please, please, PLEASE ask for a sequel to „stupid prick”?? i’m obsessed with medic!reader and grumpy and vulnerable levi 😭 can they meet in the survey corps headquaters, where he has to be patched up after a dangerios mission and she is the new best medic around? and they recognize each other and hanji sees that and tries to lowkey get them get together and release the pent up sexual frustration from years back? bc wveryone around sees what is happening 🔥🔥and bc they obviously have the hots for each other his recovery process is getting more and more steamy ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥 i love your writing so much, thank you for all you do 💕💖💕

A/N: Hey guys!!! I’m finally back!! WHOO! 😂😅 It feels so good to be posting a fic again, I just hope tumblr doesn’t eat this one like it usually does 😑 I actually wanted to post this one last night instead, but I ended up extending it and writing like four extra pages in the middle and at the end so I wanted to take today to edit it and make sure it actually sounded okay lol. But I really hope this is what you guys were looking for!! This one has been a popular demand so I really hope I did it justice! I don’t feel like it is my best piece, but it was really fun to write anyway! Also, since you didn’t necessarily specify in the ask, I just went ahead and made this a full NSFW, so warnings for that will apply, but it’s not til the very end. Okay, now enough bullshit from me, here is the sequel to ���Stupid Prick”! Thank you so so much for your sweet compliments, they seriously make my day 🥺❤️ I hope you guys enjoy!!

(Warning: NSFW!! Minors DNI plz! It’s not super nuts but I would like to point out that this fic features unprofessional conduct and misuse of a hospital room and certain medical supplies. Plz never try this at home, it is fiction and even though I tried to make it as realistically applicable as possible, it’s still not something you should try lol)

🐉 Song Recommendation: “Lost With You” By: Patrick Watson  🐉

Word Count: ~10.8k

Part 1 is here!

~~~

🔥 Damn Idiot 🔥

What time is it?

The sky was dark, swallowing the moon whole and leaving nothing but the weak, distant light of the stars to combat the shadows of the night. A soft breeze was rustling the leaves outside, flowing in through the cracked open window of the lead medical office, filling the space with a gentle coolness, one that sent pleasant tingles down the spine but failed to coax goosebumps to the surface of skin. The flame of the lone candle sitting on the largest desk in the room fluttered in that breeze but did not die out, casting dancing shadows along the walls as its warm, golden hue was toyed with.

It must be late, I should go to sleep soon.

As if the room itself could hear her thoughts, a tall grandfather clock in the corner of her office, a gift from her old master, started to chime. (Y/N) groaned as the somewhat dull sound, one she was usually fond of, clanged through her head. It sounded louder all of a sudden, making her skull pound with even sharper pulses than it had before. She laid her head down, resting her throbbing forehead on her crossed arms, silently counting the number of chimes.

1… 2… 3…

She counted until the clock slowed to a stop, the final clang ringing in her ears long after the pendulum had ceased moving.

Damn it.

It was four in the morning. (Y/N) knew she needed to sleep, needed to be sharp so she could do her best to heal the soldiers of the Survey Corps when they came back from their week long expedition, but she felt too restless. She had tried everything from teas to calming creams to soaking in a bath. Nothing had worked to settle her frazzled nerves, to quiet her overactive brain.

The worst part was, she didn’t even know why she was feeling so bothered. It had been years since she’d escaped from the Underground and made it back to her healing center with her old master. She had long since completed her training and had been with the Survey Corps ever since. She was used to seeing the worst injuries imaginable. At least, as used to it as one could be when faced with tragedy and misery. She had seen everything from bodies ripped in half to faces that were no longer recognizable. On several occasions, she had beared witness to the death of a comrade shortly after their arrival to the infirmary, their wounds too severe for even her to fix, despite her reputation.

But something was bothering her. She couldn’t pinpoint it exactly, but something felt different about this expedition, and it was making her nervous. She had thought that maybe catching up on some of the paperwork waiting for her on her desk would help distract her, but all it had ended up doing was give her a headache and a sour attitude.

Get a grip, (Y/N), you’re a medic for the Survey Corps for fuck sake. You can do this. Just go the fuck to sleep.

Forcing her head up from her desk, (Y/N) stood and blew out the candle beside her before turning on her heel to head to her bedroom. It was attached to her office, a door connected just to her left, but the walk felt as if it were miles long, her feet dragging across the wooden floor with every step. By the time she collapsed face first into her bed, her very bones were aching with exhaustion but her mind still refused to settle, making her feel jittery despite herself. She gritted her teeth, clenching the sheets in her fists as she tossed and turned, trying to beat her bed into submission, as if that would somehow cure this never-ending insomnia.

“God damn it!” (Y/N) growled when sleep still refused to come, pushing herself up onto her elbows so she could hang her head over the pillow, trying her hardest not to scream out in frustration.

“Calm down, brat. You’re already an annoying pain in my ass, no need to make it worse.”

(Y/N)’s head jolted up in surprise, the voice so clear, so close in her ear that she could’ve sworn he was right next to her.

Levi.

It had been years since she had last seen him. Since she had escaped from the human trafficking operation with him and brought him back from the edge of death. It had been years since she had made the promise to see him again.

The thought made a pang of guilt rip through her chest. She had never forgotten him, not even for a second, but that didn’t mean she didn’t still feel as if she had betrayed him. She had tried her best to make it back down to the Underground, against her better judgment, but by the time she had finally made it back to that filthy, dilapidated house on the corner, they were already gone. She had searched for any sign of them, of the grumpy raven, the bright redhead, and the charming blonde, but it was almost as if they had never existed. She had left the Underground that day distraught and wondering if it all really had been just a dream, something her brain had conjured up as a way to cope with the trauma of the human trafficking ring.

But then why did his voice sound so real? So familiar? She could picture all of them so clearly, and a part of her could almost still smell the fresh linen scent that always radiated from Levi, even when he was laying in a pool of his own blood in the dingy basement of a madman. They were real, she knew that. They were also most likely dead. She knew that too.

Rolling onto her back, (Y/N) rested her laced hands on her stomach and stared at the ceiling, considering what she would say back if he were sitting beside her in that moment. A tiny quirk to her lips appeared as she remembered the way she used banter with the three of them, but what really made her smile was when she imagined Levi’s annoyed scowl, aimed right at her whenever she sassed back at him. She would’ve never told him to his face but she had loved riling him up with snarky comments and teasing remarks. His scowl was just so adorable sometimes, especially when he was wrapped in bandages and lying helplessly in his bed. It made him look like a pouting child who didn’t get his way, rather than the dangerous criminal she knew he was.

But that was what made it all the more thrilling, all the more enjoyable when standing by his side. He was the most feared thug in the Underground and yet he lowered his walls for her. It made her giddy, remembering the way he had briefly embraced her before she left, giving her a light squeeze, as if afraid to let her walk out the door.

Until the thoughts of their empty, abandoned house flashed back into her mind, reminding her that maybe he had been right to be afraid. It was almost as if he had known he was never going to see her again, but had let her walk out the door anyway, not wanting to drag her down with him.

Gods, she missed them. She thought it was pretty ridiculous to miss them as much as she did when she was only with them for a couple of weeks, most of which was spent in silence and dark tension as Levi’s life hung in a delicate balance, but she couldn’t help it. She just wanted to know that they were okay, and maybe, selfishly, get to see them one last time.

Closing her eyes, (Y/N) let the wave of grief wash over her before rolling onto her side and pulling the blankets up to her chin, burying her face in the warm sheets in a desperate attempt to seek comfort.

“Goodnight Levi, goodnight Farlan, goodnight Isabel,” (Y/N) whispered into the empty room. “Wish me luck tomorrow.”

“Doctor!”

(Y/N) was already standing and in the process of slinging her medical bag over her shoulder by the time Squad Leader Hanji kicked open her door to slam against the back wall. Hanji had always been known for their hyper, messy qualities, their energy always giving them an air of optimistic insanity, but one look at the scientist made adrenaline pump through (Y/N)’s veins, her heart pounding against her chest. 

Hanji was breathing so hard their voice came out brittle, their eyes wide and their hair yanked messily from their bun, the blood and dirt caked strands falling to leave dark streaks on their cheeks. They were leaning heavily against the door frame, their knuckles bleached white from the force with which they grasped the wood, forcing themself to stay standing despite their obvious pain and exhaustion.

“I’m here, where am I needed?” (Y/N) asked, whisking past Hanji only to pause and offer the squad leader a shoulder to lean on. They tried to wave (Y/N) off but the medic refused, allowing her comrade to lean heavily against her as they made their way to the infirmary.

“Emergency ward,” Hanji coughed. “Humanity’s Strongest is down; needs immediate care.”

Alarm flashed through (Y/N)’s system followed by a wave of dread. Humanity’s Strongest Soldier? She had never met the man, never even seen him in action or otherwise. All she had ever known of him were the rumors that had made their way to the infirmary or her office from her fellow medical staff and the patients who stayed for longer than a day in the infirmary wing. And now she was expected to heal him, the most powerful soldier in the Corps, the one man who holds the hope of all of humanity in his palms. If she were to fail in any way…

(Y/N) shook her head, forcing the negative thoughts from her mind. She had to focus, if she went into this unsure of herself, she’d never be able to succeed. “Thank you Hanji, don’t worry, I’ll take it from here. All I need you to do is get some rest and focus on healing, okay?”

Finally reaching the emergency wing, (Y/N) settled Hanji into the first empty bed she found, making sure the Squad Leader was properly tucked in with their leg supported and elevated before reluctantly leaving the rest to another doctor so she could find the one who needed her help the most. Turning around, (Y/N) spotted the bed in the next cubicle over, the white curtains drawn in front to cover the patient lying inside. She didn’t need another doctor to tell her who was behind those curtains.

Taking a deep breath, (Y/N) made her way over to the bed, shoving her nerves to the bottom of her stomach so she could focus solely on healing her newest patient. No matter his  status, his role in the war, his importance, he was still a human like any other, a human who needed her help. 

I can do this.

Giving herself one last moment to feel grounded, (Y/N) finally pulled the curtains aside, allowing her eyes to scan over her newest patient to assess the extent of the damage done to his body. Only, she didn’t get very far in her analysis before her jaw dropped, her eyes widening in shock.

It was Levi, her Levi, right in front of her.

After so many years apart, she couldn’t believe he was sitting right here, in the flesh. It was almost as if history was repeating itself. The sight of him laying in a bed, unconscious, already wrapped in bandages, made her think back to when they were in the Underground again, bundled into his old bedroom as she fought to keep him breathing.

It sparked her to jump back into action, fear flooding her system as she realized the  extent of his injuries. He looked so battered, his face bruised and bloodied. Pulling back the sheets revealed a hastily bandaged torso, blood already soaking through the creamy white fabric in several places. The skin of his legs was less damaged than the rest of him, but she could tell his femur in his left leg was fractured, several violent purple bruises blooming on the surface of his otherwise clear skin.

Swallowing thickly, (Y/N) forced her concern down as far she could to rest with her nervousness and snapped into clinical mode, her shaky breathing the only indication of her stressed state.

“Hang in there, Levi, I’m here. I’m gonna make you feel all better, just like I did last time, I promise.”

Nobody bothered her as she got to work, only interfering to hand her the tools she needed as she requested them. She didn’t speak unless she had to, focusing on carefully removing his bandages so she could get to work on stitching him back up. She paused for a second once the cloth had been stripped away, her fingers drifting softly over the puckered skin of the scars from the wounds she had healed in the past, before quickly shifting her attention back to the problem at hand.

She worked meticulously for hours, reminding herself to remain calm as she slowly threaded the stitches through his skin, taking special care to do it just as well, if not better than the first time she had ever stitched him up. She was grateful for her access to proper medical supplies, a tiny smile teasing at the corners of her lips as she thought about when she’d had to use ripped up old sheets for bandages that she’d then had to wash in a well several streets over.

Her back started to throb, sweat beading on her forehead as she finished closing the last of his open wounds and moved to work on setting his broken leg properly, but she barely even noticed the pain and exhaustion, her focus lasered on the man laying in the bed in front of her. A few doctors even tried to take over once his condition was no longer in the critical range, but (Y/N) refused without a second thought, unwilling to be moved from the person she had ached to see for so long, the person she thought might’ve been nothing more than a ghost.

Finally, as the sun was starting to sink behind the walls, casting the room in vibrant splashes of pink and gold, (Y/N) finished with the last bandage, gently placing the cloth underneath the silver bar of Levi’s new leg brace, tugging it gently to make sure it was securely fastened. Once she was sure nothing would come loose in his sleep, she leaned away, her hands on her hips as she arched her back in a stretch. Her eyes never left him. They constantly roamed over him, as if still disbelieving that he was here and alive and healing.

“Hey Doctor (L/N)!”

(Y/N) jumped out of her skin at the loud voice sounding behind her, whirling on the spot with wide eyes, as if she had been caught doing something she shouldn’t have.

“God, Micah, you can’t fucking scare me like that! What if I had still been working on the Captain?”

Micah, a spritely young nurse-in-training assigned under (Y/N)’s command, smiled widely at her in response, his arms coming up to fold in front of his chest. “Oh don’t worry, Teach, I knew you were done with him already. If I had thought you were still working, I never  would’ve considered sneaking up on you, but since you were just staring at him, I figured you might need someone to snap you out of it.”

(Y/N) blushed, both embarrassed and slightly annoyed. She loved Micah, she really did, he had always made sure to keep things interesting in the clinic. He never let things get too dull despite their already hectic careers, but sometimes he could be a little too perceptive. He was a smart kid, in spite of what his chaotic energy seemed to suggest, and he knew how to use it when least expected.

“I wasn’t staring at him, I was just making sure I did all of the stitching and bandaging right. You know how high profile he is, what if I messed something up just because I was being careless right at the end?” (Y/N) said, busying herself with cleaning the leftover supplies to avoid having to meet her pupil’s gaze.

His cheeky grin suggested she didn’t need to make eye contact for him to see right through her lie. “Sure you were. I bet you were also making sure none of his abs were damaged on the mission, right?”

(Y/N) sent a dark glare his way but couldn’t stop the slight twitch of her lips. She couldn’t help it when she was around the kid. He could definitely be annoying at times when he wouldn’t mind his own business, but he always knew how to make her laugh.

“Ah hah! I knew I was right!”

“Shut up, you don’t know what you’re talking about,” (Y/N) snapped, her blush now extending to the tips of her ears.

“Hey, I think it’s cute that you have the hots for the Captain!” Micah said with his hands held up in defense. “I don’t know how you plan on getting his attention though, he’s never been one for relationships as far as I’ve heard. But no matter what, I’m here to support you every step of the way, Teach!”

(Y/N) bent over Levi to tuck the covers underneath him and hide the genuine smile that  graced her lips at Micah’s comment, making sure to wipe most of it from her features before turning to face him. His eyes were still glittering warmly when she walked by him, so she made sure to give him an affectionate slap on the arm as she passed, smiling wider at the snicker he let loose in response. They were just about to leave for dinner, to take a break before getting in the shower and heading to bed when (Y/N) paused, casting one last glance over her shoulder at the comatose Captain still sleeping soundly.

“You know, I think I might have a few ideas for this one.”

“Four Eyes, get out of my way, I’m fine.”

Hanji scoffed, placing their hands on their hips as they met Levi’s glare with a menacing look of their own, refusing to back down from their spot in front of the emergency ward door.

“Absolutely not, Levi. You have to stay in bed and rest, doctor’s orders.”

“You’re not in bed resting,” Levi bit back in annoyance, his brows furrowed.

“That’s because I had a badly sprained ankle and was suffering through a burnout from the lack of food and hydration. I was released after a couple days of rest and nutrients. You, on the other hand, have a broken leg, several sizable gashes, and a concussion, there’s a difference.”

“I said I feel fine.”

“I don’t care how you feel, the doctor said you have to stay in bed so you are going to stay right here until they deem it appropriate for you to leave. Until then, if I have to tie you down to the headboard, I will.”

Levi raised a brow, “Sorry, Shitty Glasses, I’m not into that kinky shit.”

Hanji snorted, “Since when?”

Levi sent a dark scowl her way and once again attempted to stand up, only to get forcefully shoved back onto the mattress by a gleeful Hanji.

“It won’t matter if I get hurt walking around if all you’re going to do is break more of my bones shoving me back into bed,” Levi grumped when the impact of his short fall made him wince with the jolt of pain to his leg.

“If that’s what I have to do to get you to stay put, then I will.”

Levi gave Hanji a choice hand gesture in response to that one, only to have them stick their tongue out in return, making his nose wrinkle at their childish antics.

“Who the fuck confined me to this bed anyway but isn’t brave enough to tell it to my face? Which doctor is supposed to be assigned to me?”

Hanji opened their mouth to answer but was promptly interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat behind them, prompting the scientist to move aside. Levi’s frown suddenly relaxed, his expression giving way to one of pure astonishment as he took in the sight of his doctor leaning against the door frame, her arms crossed over her chest and her eyes sparkling with unfiltered joy.

She looked good, he realized, healthy, so different from how she had looked after spending so much time in that filthy house the human trafficking ring was held in. Her hair was full of volume and color, and looked so silky his fingers were tempted to run themselves through it. Her skin appeared soft and damn near glowing, completely devoid of the dirt and blood that had covered it for days in the Underground. The only thing that hadn’t changed was her eyes. They were still so full of hope and a brightness that not even the darkest corners of the Underground were able to smother. The same brightness she had turned to him with whenever he grew too pessimistic, eager to show him the glass half full. It was never a naive hope, she was never clueless to the dire nature of their situation, but she had always had that spark in her gaze, the one that still haunted Levi’s dreams to this day.

He realized after a moment that he was staring and quickly averted his eyes, trying to hide the fact that he had not heard a single thing that was spoken since she had entered the room. Her smile only got wider at his bashful expression, her arms unfolding as she pushed away from the doorframe to shuffle further into the room.

“I don’t think you heard me, I said that I am the doctor who confined you to this bed and will be looking after you for the next few weeks of your recovery.”

Levi nodded slowly, his words lodged in his throat, feeling as if his mouth was stuffed with cotton. He knew Hanji was staring at him, confused at his strange behavior, but he couldn’t find it in himself to slip his mask back into place, even to hide from the infinite teasing he was sure would come later from the titan freak.

He couldn’t help it, the woman he had been dreaming about since the day she had walked out of his house was right in front of him, in the flesh, alive and healthy. He didn’t think he would ever see her again, despite his promise to Farlan. He felt as if he were looking at a ghost. A very physical, happy, living ghost.

(Y/N)’s smile turned softer, almost a little melancholy, as if she could also see the memories that were flashing across his mind rapid fire, rendering him speechless. “Hello, Levi.”

Swallowing thickly, Levi raised his head and met her gaze, his hair raising uncomfortably at the way she made his heart pound against his ribcage.

“Hey, (Y/N).”

Hanji’s loud squawk of surprise and indignation broke the spell in the room, making Levi’s scowl return full force.

“Wait a fucking second, you know each other!? And you didn’t tell me?”

“It wasn’t as if we had the chance, Four Eyes, stop shouting.”

“B-But you guys know each other!”

“Yeah, and?” Levi grumbled, crossing his arms stubbornly over his chest.

(Y/N) chuckled at the raven’s pouty expression, the bright, lovely sound he hadn’t heard in so long making his frown relax slightly.

“Well, how did you two meet? How long have you known each other? What drove you two apart? How do you feel now that you two are back together again? Holy shit, were you two lovers!? Does that mean you-”

“Shut. Up. Hanji!” Levi snapped, a foreign panic rising in his chest as the scientist continued to ask him questions rapidfire.

Thankfully, (Y/N) merely laughed again at Hanji’s overexcitement and intervened before Levi could blow a gasket. Sending a reassuring glance his way, she moved from behind the scientist to stand by Levi’s bedside, fiddling with the supplies on a nearby tray table to make sure they were all organized for when she would need to use them next.

“No, no, Hanji, it was nothing like that. I met Levi when I was brought Underground by my master to learn how to treat leg injuries. He was there for me when a group of thugs thought it would be a fun idea to jump me when my master and I got separated. Ever since then, we’ve interacted a few more times, but my training as a medic and Levi’s new ranking as Captain kept us from seeing each other too often.”

Levi frowned as Hanji tittered happily at the story, a beaming smile on their face as they stopped teasing him and left with a departing wave, finally giving the pair some privacy.

When the door to the private room was closed, (Y/N) turned back to Levi, finally allowing the tears she had been holding back to flow down her cheeks.

Before he could react, she threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around him as gently as possible despite her obvious excitement to stay mindful of his healing injuries. His eyes widened, his hands hovering in the air over her waist, twitching nervously as his brain  short-circuited and he fought to regain control of himself. He was still trying to process the fact that he was being hugged for the first time since his friends had died when (Y/N) pulled away, not minding his frozen state of shock. Wiping away her tears, she sent him a sympathetic smile.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, now concerned she had overstepped some boundaries, “I’m just… really glad you’re alive.”

Levi finally managed to reboot his brain and shook himself out of his stupor, mentally slapping himself for letting himself be so affected by this woman. “Why did you lie?”

“Huh?” (Y/N) asked, confused by the sudden change in topic.

“To Four Eyes just a minute ago. Why did you lie to them about how we met?”

“Oh, that.” (Y/N) said, turning away from him to check his chart, “I knew if I told them the truth that not only would they tease both of us, mainly you, but that it would also spread like wildfire. I enjoy Hanji’s company and I think they are a very sweet person but they aren't the best at keeping secrets. I figured getting credit for something I was happy to do anyway wasn’t worth possibly tarnishing your reputation.”

Levi shook his head, “But you saved me, not the other way around.”

“You saved me more than you think, Levi,” (Y/N) mumbled quietly as she faced him again, reaching out to gently rotate his non-broken leg to check on a gash he had sliced along his calf.

“What?”

“I said that maybe I’ll tell her the truth someday, when you’re all healed and have a chance to escape from her jokes and teasing remarks,” (Y/N) said in a louder voice for him to hear.

He still looked skeptical but dropped the subject, grateful for her consideration of his feelings even if they didn’t sit right with him. Leaning back on his palms, Levi reclined against the feeling of her soft hands on him and sighed. Gods, he had missed the way she touched him.

That sudden thought made him jolt slightly. What the fuck?

“Oh, did that hurt?” (Y/N) asked, pulling her hands back in alarm, afraid she had pressed too hard on one of his wounds.

Levi quickly waved her off and forced himself to relax again, trying his best to ignore how good it felt to have her touching him. It was quiet for a long moment, the air thick with unresolved tension as (Y/N) worked on cleaning his injuries and replacing his old bandages with fresh ones. He felt as if he had so much to say to her and yet had no way of forcing them off the edge of his tongue. A muscle twitched in his jaw as he ground his teeth together, trying to pin at least one thought down, something, anything he could use to fill the tense atmosphere.

“I’m glad too,” Levi eventually said, “that you’re alive.”

He immediately wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole the minute the words left his mouth, his breath catching in his throat when (Y/N) paused in her efforts to patch him up.

When she finally looked back up at him, she had more tears in her eyes, but a large, watery smile tugged at her lips.

“Thank you, Levi.”

After that first day, (Y/N) spent every moment she could with Levi. While part of that was due to the injuries he sustained and her duty to heal him to the best of her ability, it was clear that wasn’t all there was to their time spent together to anyone who was paying attention. Especially when she spent even her free moments and breaks by his side. He had tried to convince her that she didn’t need to spend every waking moment with him, afraid she was wasting time she could be spending doing something relaxing or productive, but (Y/N) held firm, refusing to leave him unless she really had to. Thankfully, due to Levi’s importance, her duties were almost completely relegated to his care for the time being, so she didn’t have to worry too much about the other patients in the infirmary, trusting her fellow colleagues to take care of them for her while she worked on Humanity’s Strongest.

She felt especially compelled to stay by his side when she learned of the deaths of Isabel and Farlan, the pair dying to an abnormal titan during a severe thunderstorm just three months prior. It killed her to learn that the sweet redhead and charming blonde were gone, but she couldn’t even begin to imagine the kind of pain Levi was in. He had tried to put on a brave face, a mask to hide his pain, but (Y/N) saw through it as if she were looking through glass, possibly the only person who really could.

Grieving together had been a testament to the strength of their friendship, the pair only growing closer as the days passed and they learned to cope through each other and the time they spent together. 

The thought brought a smile to (Y/N)’s face as she made her way through the near empty halls, her arms full with the tray of food she was on her way to bring to Levi from the dining hall. She normally would’ve asked someone else to do this for her so she could continue to stay by Levi’s side, but she needed to stretch her legs a little and she trusted Levi enough at this point to stay put when she asked him to.

He had fought her on that the first few days of his healing process, just as he had in the Underground when she was healing him so many years ago, but she found he couldn’t really say no to her when she asked him nicely. She knew he was getting restless, eager to rejoin the ranks and start up on his training routine again, but she also knew he would only injure himself further if he rushed into things. Shaking her head at the thought of the grumpy, energetic man, she shifted the tray to one hand so she could use the other to dig through her pockets for her keys.

Levi had been moved to her room just the other day. It had been Hanji’s idea, the brunette suggesting the arrangement with unbridled glee, much to Levi’s chagrin. It was a sound idea and made sense given the situation, but (Y/N) couldn’t help but wonder if the scientist had an ulterior motive based on the near feral smile they had flashed at Levi when (Y/N) had agreed. In the end, the arrangement had worked out. Having him in her room proved to be better functionally, giving her plenty of time and room to focus on nothing but his improving health.

Fitting the keys into the lock, (Y/N) pushed the door open with her hip and fought to keep a disappointed expression when she found Levi standing in front of her bookshelf, his piercing eyes flitting over the many various titles. It was endearing, almost a little charming to see the fierce captain of the Survey Corps idly standing in her office, waiting for her to return. It was almost as if he was supposed to be there, as if he belonged there. It was oddly domestic.

Shoving that thought to the side, (Y/N) placed her tray of food on her desk and made her way to his side, placing her hands on her hips in as stern of a manner as she could. “You sir, are supposed to be in bed resting. What are you doing up?”

Levi at least had the decency to look a little cowed despite the scowl he threw in her direction. “I just wanted something to read. I’ve got to have something to do when your annoying voice isn’t here to keep me constantly distracted.”

“First of all, my voice is not annoying,” (Y/N) said with a huff, ignoring the way he playfully scoffed in mock disbelief. “Secondly, if you really wanted something to read, you know you could’ve asked me. You just wanted an excuse to ignore my orders.”

He shrugged but didn’t deny it. For a fraction of a second, (Y/N) almost thought she saw the corner of his mouth twitch up into a smile, but it was gone just as quickly as it had come. Maybe it had just been a trick of the light.

“Either way, you still need to get back to bed. Your body won’t heal any faster if you spend all your time undoing my hard work with your incessant need to be entertained.”

Levi’s nose wrinkled as he finally turned to face her, begrudgingly following her back to her bedroom. “I don’t need to be coddled.”

“Hm, are you sure about that?” (Y/N) asked with a soft cackle when she glanced back to see the aghast look on his face. “Come on, doctor’s orders, which means you have no choice but to listen to me if you wanna get back out in the field.”

Levi didn’t respond but eventually crawled back under the sheets of her bed, batting her hands away when she tried to help him. She giggled at his reluctance to accept her help, even after all this time, and busied herself instead with grabbing the tray of food from her office. Once he had settled himself back against the pillows, (Y/N) placed the tray on his lap and perched on the edge of the bed so she could ensure that he ate properly. He rolled his eyes at her mother henning tendencies but didn’t push her away as he dug into the vegetable stew and bread she had brought for him.

“Just out of curiosity,” (Y/N) asked after a few moments of silence, “what book were you interested in reading when you were looking at my shelf?”

Levi glanced at her over his bowl of soup, taking his time to swallow the bite in his mouth before responding. “There’s the sequel to a horror novel I was reading before the mission. I was thinking of maybe finishing the series now that I’m being forced to relax against my will.”

(Y/N) beamed at him with the most smug expression she could manage, her smile only widening when he gave her an unimpressed look. “Well, you said earlier that my annoying voice is a good distraction. Would you let me read to you? It’ll help pass the time.”

She could tell he was thinking about it, debating on whether or not it was safe to admit that he liked when she read to him. She could almost see the gears turning in his head as he considered her proposition, before he eventually nodded. She was out of her seat before he had even finished giving her an answer, rushing back into her office to grab the novel of his choice.

(Y/N) knew she was probably being a little unprofessional, she hardly ever read to her patients unless she knew they weren’t going to make it. But she found she didn’t care as she plopped herself down beside Levi once more and peeled the book open to flip to the first page. She knew she was probably being a bit selfish as she scooted closer to him after the first few chapters, leaning into him just the slightest amount to absorb the heat that seemed to radiate from his body. But she found she didn’t care about that either as Levi leaned back into her touch just an inch, almost to the point where she couldn’t feel it. But she knew, she knew in the way the blush rose back into his cheeks, in the way his muscles relaxed just a tad, in the way his heart sped up against her shoulder.

Levi didn’t talk to her much, but (Y/N) felt closer to him than she ever had before. Although the pair slept in different rooms, him on her bed in her bedroom and her on the couch in her office, there was something inexplicably intimate about sharing living quarters. She was constantly around him, slowly but surely getting to know Levi all over again. His recovery time seemed to rapidly decrease with every passing day, the strong young man healing way faster than anybody other than (Y/N) was prepared for. She knew any day now he would be cleared for duty once more, and the two of them would go right back to their own lives, their separate daily routines.

The thought sent a spear of something sour to (Y/N)’s stomach but she refused to acknowledge it. She was unwilling to let her own feelings for him get in the way of his recovery. She was happy for him, he would finally be free from her constant nagging and be able to live his own life for the first time in weeks. Swallowing the bitter taste in her mouth and pushing away all selfish thoughts of wanting to keep him by her side, (Y/N) prepared to enter the infirmary where she would be getting the results for Levi’s final physical examination, proof that he was finally fully healed of all injuries.

“Doctor (L/N)!”

(Y/N) turned at the sound of Micah calling her name, surprised to see the young nurse standing beside Squad Leader Hanji, both of whom were wearing what looked to be shit-eating grins, even from their current distance. (Y/N)’s eyes narrowed but she made her way over to the pair.

“Micah! What can I do for you?”

“I was just coming by to give you the good news! There was a slight mix-up in the scheduling, so now you will be conducting Captain Levi’s final examination!”

(Y/N)’s brow raised as she turned to Hanji, looking for further explanation. The scientist’s expression was immediately sheepish, a hand coming up to rub at the back of their neck. “Heh, sorry, (Y/N). It was my fault, I didn’t realize I had a meeting scheduled for this time today, I thought it was going to be tomorrow. Would you mind performing the exam? Shorty will probably prefer to have you touching him anyway.”

“What?” (Y/N) balked.

“Nothing, nothing,” Hanji said with a dismissive wave of their hand, “I just mean he doesn’t like people getting close to him, especially me. He’ll prefer it if it's someone he trusts.”

“Oh,” (Y/N) said, beratting herself for thinking Hanji’s words could mean anything other than something innocent. “Of course I’ll perform the exam, thank you for the heads up!”

“Sure thing, boss!” Micah said, clapping a hand on her shoulder before striding away with Hanji, the two darting around the corner as if they had stolen something. (Y/N) watched after them for a moment but figured their odd behavior could be addressed later. For now, she had a very important patient to take care of.

Levi was sitting at the edge of the infirmary bed in nothing but his boxers when the door clicked open. It made sense, he was supposed to be having a full body physical examination to make sure he was properly healed for duty, he just wasn’t expecting to come face to face with the very woman he was in love with. He fought the urge to blush as (Y/N) stopped short in her tracks for a fraction of a second, her eyes giving his exposed form a quick once over before she seemed to remember herself and averted her gaze with an embarrassed cough.

“I-I’m sorry, I thought… Shitty Glasses said they’d be back in a moment and to get undressed for the exam,” Levi mumbled, cursing himself when he stumbled over his words.

(Y/N) waved her hands in front of her face, “Not a problem at all, Levi! You’ve done everything right, there was just a change of plan, that’s all! Squad Leader Hanji had an impromptu meeting to go to so I’m going to be giving your exam instead.”

“Of course they did,” Levi muttered. “Figures.”

“What was that?”

“I said let’s just get this over with.”

(Y/N) nodded once, dragging over a tray of tools to get started. His eyes never left her, watching her every move. Even so, the first touch of her hands against his cheeks made him flinch in his seat. Thankfully, she ignored the impulsive movement and instead focused on checking his eyes, a small flashlight held up to examine them.

“Your pupils are quite dilated, are you feeling okay?”

Levi hummed an affirmative and even though she didn’t look entirely convinced, it wasn’t long before she moved on, running her fingers as gently as possible down his jaw and throat, massaging along his collarbone to test for soreness or unaccounted for aching. He grunted at the feeling of her magical fingers ghosting over his skin, but was otherwise unreactive, sitting as still as possible to avoid getting in the way of her work. No matter his feelings for her, this was her area of expertise, her passion, the last thing he wanted to do was inhibit that with his stupid emotions.

A light pinch to his nipple snapped him back to reality, a choked noise wrestling from his throat without his permission at the unexpected touch. “Sorry! Sorry! I thought I saw a scratch and I wanted to make sure it wasn’t bleeding. It’s just an old blood blister scar.”

Levi nodded woodenly, suddenly a lot more aware of her touch as she continued to descend down his chest. Her fingers brushed over his pecs and down his abs like water, making his whole body shiver. But it wasn’t until she kneeled to the ground, her hands gripping his thighs and massaging along his calves that he felt himself start to lose control, his pants tightening under her delicious attention. His eyes widened in horror, but he had no way of fixing the situation without drawing attention to himself.

“Levi? Are you alright? Your face is a little flushed, I’m not hurting you, am I?”

Levi shook his head fervently, not trusting himself to speak. (Y/N) scrutinized him, once again not sure if she should believe him or not. He looked unnecessarily flustered, and she couldn’t figure out why. Was she making him uncomfortable? She was trying to be as professional with her touches as possible but maybe that didn’t matter. Hanji had said he hated when other people touched him.

“Okay then, I’m sorry if I’m making you uncomfortable, we’re almost done.”

Levi nodded stiffly again, too focused on how to get out of this situation with his dignity still intact to correct her. His legs shook, his breathing labored as she finished off with his feet and moved back up his legs, since they had received more damage than some of the other parts of him in the fight. She was reaching his inner thighs again, opening her mouth to ask him to turn around, hoping to finish up as quickly as possible for his sake when she saw it. She couldn’t help the squeak that fled from her mouth when she finally realized what was bothering him so much.

What had once been a tense but calm atmosphere suddenly turned to chaos as Levi reacted instinctively, pushing (Y/N) away from him with one hand while his other flew in front of his crotch, his face flushed such a deep red, (Y/N) would’ve been worried about him having a fever had they not been in their current situation. She fell back against the floor, her palms flying out behind her to catch herself as she stared with wide eyes at the normally stoic man and the way he refused to meet her gaze, his free hand moving up to cover his mouth in pure mortification. It took her a moment for her brain to work properly, but once it did, she reverted once more back into a more professional mode, knowing that if she didn’t do something to comfort him, the situation could end in disaster.

“Hey, Levi, i-it’s okay! It’s not your fault!”

“What do you mean it’s not my fault!?” Levi spat. “You didn’t ask for this, I just couldn’t- it happened but-”

Levi cut himself off, moving the hand that had been in front of his mouth to cover his eyes instead, unable to even think of facing the woman in front of him. He had never felt so embarrassed in his life. Not only did he manage to ruin the one special connection he had in his life with the single person he always wanted to be around, but he reacted by shoving her to the floor the minute he fucked up. He felt like bolting, his legs tensing and ready to spring. Or throwing up, his stomach squeezing painfully tight as the thought of what just happened replayed in his head over and over. 

The feeling of a light touch on his knee made him shudder, but he refused to knock her hand away, not after his earlier reaction had sent her sprawling to the ground.

“It was my fault, Levi, I shouldn’t have been touching you so lightly or so much. I was just trying to give you this physical exam but obviously I wasn’t being careful or aware enough. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

Levi shook his head but didn’t respond, keeping his eyes hidden behind the comfort of his palm. He knew it was childish, hiding from her, he was going to have to look at her at some point, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He had never been in a situation like this before and he was scrambling. He was tempted to search for the nearest knife and slit his throat, hoping that in doing so, he’d finally be able to escape the horror of the situation.

But he couldn’t move, frozen by the hand burning his skin where (Y/N) touched him. She wasn’t letting him go and he was too mortified to speak and ask her to move. He didn’t want her to anyway, a small, selfish part of him chided, making him press his face even further into the comfort of his own hand.

“If it’s any consolation, Levi, I didn’t exactly hate it. I find it flattering, even, that you enjoy my touch.”

“It’s only yours,” Levi mumbled, still unable to look at her. “You’re the only one who makes me feel this way.”

(Y/N)’s smile could’ve rivaled the sun even though he couldn’t see it. Her heart was pounding, both from the nature of their situation and the weight of his confession. His words filled her chest with so much warmth, she felt as if she had already melted into liquid gold. “You’re the only one who makes me feel that way too, Levi.”

That got his attention, his hands dropping from his face so fast, it was clear he even forgot about his embarrassment. It made (Y/N) giggle at him, her hand reaching up to cup his cheek. He hesitated a moment before leaning into the touch, his eyes glittering with something akin to hope.

“Really? Are you sure?”

(Y/N) leaned forward, making sure to look him in the eye and give him time to pull away before gently connecting their lips. He shivered under her touch, just as he had always done, and only took a moment to swallow the shock in his system before meeting the coupling of their mouths with more enthusiasm. She nearly purred in response, tilting her head to slot them closer together.

Levi figured he must be dreaming, there was absolutely no way that the woman he had been pining for ever since she had left the Underground loved him as much as he loved her. It just wasn’t possible for someone so amazing, so compassionate and beautiful to love him like that. But here she was, kissing him senseless, and dream or not, he was going to take full advantage. Pressing closer, Levi snaked his tongue out to lap at her bottom lip, his body damn near vibrating at the lustful groan she let out in response, not hesitating to let him into her mouth. Her tongue tangled with his, fighting him for dominance as she pushed herself up onto his lap while he scooted back on the bed to give them more room. The hand that wasn’t cupping her jaw rested against her waist, pulling her into him as they continued their lip lock until he was lightheaded from the lack of oxygen.

They were both panting for air, but they refused to move too far from each other, resting their heads against one another as they soaked in the intimacy of the moment. Forgotten was the physical exam, the infirmary they were in, the people probably waiting for them outside, the world had narrowed into nothing but the two of them, basking in their feelings for one another.

“Do you really mean it?” Levi whispered, unable to hold himself back from expressing his biggest concern.

(Y/N) scoffed good-naturedly and leaned back to look him in the eye. “What about that kiss told you I wasn’t serious?”

As if to solidify her statement, she leaned in for another quick kiss, swiping her tongue across his lips but pulling back before he could pull it into his mouth to suck. He pouted at her but was quickly satiated when he felt an unbearably warm palm cradle his clothed cock, giving a gentle squeeze for good measure. (Y/N)’s smile only widened at the groan of pleasure he let out in response, his hips canting once into her palm before he could stop himself.

“You know, I still technically have to finish giving you a physical exam. Just to make sure you aren’t still injured. I think it would be best to thoroughly check as many places as I possibly can.”

His blood heated at her words, and although he longed to lunge forward and capture her lips in another intoxicating kiss, he decided to indulge in her charade instead. “I agree, in fact, there is one particular area I’m especially worried about.”

Rocking his hips up, Levi rubbed himself against the hand still resting over his length, turning his voice whiny with a desperation that was only half exaggerated for her benefit. “Please, it hurts…”

(Y/N) felt as if she could fry eggs on her cheeks, but refused to let her embarrassment get the better of her, focusing more on the immense excitement flowing through her veins at the whimper in Levi’s usually stoic tone of voice. “Well, what kind of doctor would I be if I just let my favorite patient suffer? I think I know just the thing to cure this ailment of yours.”

Levi couldn’t hold back the wave of pure electricity he felt spider down his spine as (Y/N) slithered off his lap to kneel on the floor, her hands moving from the tent in his boxers to his thighs. She ghosted her fingers over his skin, reveling in the gooseflesh that littered the trail of her hands, and moved to pull the fabric from his hips. She kept her movements slow to give him time to change his mind, but Levi eagerly lifted his hips to assist her. She looked up at him, only to bite her lip at the hungry desire in his gaze, his bangs falling over his eyes to give him an even more dangerous look. She pulled his boxers all the way down his legs before tossing them somewhere uncaringly behind her, drawing her attention instead to the scarlet, leaking cock right in front of her.

“My, my,” (Y/N) hummed, “This is worse than I thought.”

Levi flushed darker but didn’t comment, merely reaching down to stroke himself twice in front of her, impatiently waiting for her to do something, anything. He choked back a growl of impatience when she just continued to watch him, her hands tickling his inner thighs as she considered something to herself. He wished he had a bit more self control, the last thing he wanted to do was come off as pushy, but he was quickly losing the ability to keep himself in check, not with her looking at him like that.

Just as he was about to say something, (Y/N) raised her hand and motioned for him to turn around, a sly look of something positively mischievous in her eyes. Holding back the whine that threatened to pry from his lips, Levi did as he was told, turning around so that he was facing away from her with his legs tucked beneath him.

(Y/N) was quick to bring her hands up to his back, raking her fingers down his muscles as she pretended to look for more injuries on him. He had to bite his tongue as her fingers gently skittered over his shoulder blades and down his spine, her nails coming to curl against his lower back, just above his hips. By the time she had made her way back up to the nape of his neck, he was squirming in his seat, his skin tingling with sensitivity despite his every effort to come off as unaffected. 

He’d had no idea he was even sensitive on his back, but every light scrape of her nails, every ghost of her fingertips along his ribs or down his spine made whimpers squeak out of his throat. His dick weeped at the attention, throbbing with every light scratch she inflicted on him until her hands suddenly wrapped themselves around his waist to rest on his stomach. She was teasing him, testing the limits of his barely-held-together patience, and he didn’t know whether he loved her or hated her for it. She pressed her chest to his back, resting her chin on his shoulder so she could bite and lick at his throat while her hands creeped their way down to his groin.

“You’re all clear on your back, baby,” (Y/N) purred in his ear, stopping just shy of his weeping sex. “You can turn around whenever you’re ready.”

Levi snapped, all of his usually impenetrable patience lost as he whirled around and latched onto her hips with a bruising grip, yanking her back onto his lap before she could get a word in edgewise. She squealed in delight, her hands reaching out to smooth over his chest and shoulders affectionately. He paused only for a moment to grab the lotion originally meant for soothing his muscles off the tray table, pouring a healthy amount into his hand to stuff into her needy cunt with two long fingers. She responded with a fiery kiss to his lips, using her free hand to drag her skirt and panties down her legs until they were far enough down for her to kick them away. The sloppy sounds of her pussy were audible as he pumped his fingers in and out, but she still appreciated his thought to use lube considering how little time they had for actual foreplay.

He was a little clumsy, his fingers exploring a bit aimlessly to find the spot he knew would make her taste the stars, but she found that he was a quick learner, immediately responding to any sign of pleasure from her until he was curling his fingertips perfectly against her spongy g-spot.

“Fuck! Levi… Levi, I’m ready. I need you inside me, now.”

His cock twitched at her breathy command but he didn’t let up for a few strokes yet, making sure she was soaked to his liking before sliding his fingers from her. She watched in lustful disbelief as he brought his hand to his lips, licking her slick clean from his skin. He held her gaze with a look full of dark promises, refusing to break it until he had sucked the last of her from his fingers, closing his eyes as he slurped with a final satisfied flourish.

“Delicious,” his voice was the crunch of gravel in the middle of the night. Rich lust gulped down his irises until there was nothing but a slim ring of silver left, completely enraptured by the stunning woman on his lap. (Y/N) was speechless, her mind a soupy mess of desire, but she wasn’t helpless. Levi let out a hiss when her supple palm wrapped once more around his length, angling him toward her entrance as she rose to her knees, straddling him more suitably now. He brushed his hand against her hip, stopping her just long enough to bore his final ask of consent into her. When he found nothing but a mirror to his own eagerness, he replaced her hand with his own and guided himself up, slipping easily into her velvety heat.

The two moaned out in unison as they were joined for the first time, attacking each other’s lips and devouring each other’s sounds until they were drowning in their need for air. Levi couldn’t wait, but it seemed as if (Y/N) was a bit more impatient than she was letting on, because she provided no resistance when he started to move inside her, swirling his hips up into her so that his cock nudged against that pleasure spot deep inside her. (Y/N) gasped and trembled, leaning her head back to give him room to explore. While he licked up the side of her neck, sucking dark bruises into her otherwise unblemished skin, (Y/N) dragged more trails of fire up his back, clawing him up like a cat as each thrust into her pliant body picked up in speed and intensity.

“God fuck, you’re so tight,” Levi murmured into her skin, nipping at her earlobe before soothing the sting with his tongue.

(Y/N) keened and removed her hands from his back, instead scrambling to rip at the buttons on the front of her shirt. Levi leaned back when the sound of tearing fabric sounded throughout the room, his eyes widening at the sight of her bare breasts teasing him through the ruins of her uniform.

“Damn, no bra? You were just waiting for this to happen, weren’t you, kitten? So eager for my cock, and I’ve barely even started.”

(Y/N) moaned, her jaw dropping as each thrust forced the air from her lungs until she was gasping. “B-Been waiting for this for a long time, Levi. Ever since t-the Underg-ground. Besides, don’t act like y-you’re above this, you love b-being inside me too, don’t you?”

Levi’s breath hitched, his eyes widening at her confession before he began to ravage the woman on top of him. He couldn’t believe it, hadn’t even dared to fathom that she could’ve had any feelings for him when she left. She was a goddess who had healed him out of the goodness of her heart, that was all. There was no way such a fantastic person could’ve ever loved the criminal rat from the filthy Underground sticks. But here she was, confessing to the very thing he had always hoped for but never allowed himself to entertain.

“Oh fuck, is that even a question? I love your pussy, my new f-favorite place to be.”

Thrusting somehow faster, his nails digging into her ass and the bottoms of her thighs hard enough to make crescent shapes dot her skin, Levi breathed back his own secret. “I’ve been waiting for this too, made a promise to Farlan that I would be with you one day.”

(Y/N) immediately latched onto Levi’s skin, kissing and biting sloppy marks up and down his neck to smother the sound of her obscene moans as she came all over him. Her body shook on top of him, her pussy clenching him hard enough to have colors exploding behind his eyelids. He busied himself with ducking down to roll his tongue across her pert nipples, sucking and nipping at the soft mounds as he rode her through her climax and started to chase his own.

“~Hah, hah, hah…” Levi panted as he broke away from her skin, a string of saliva connecting him to her now mottled flesh as he pistoned harder, flesh slapping loudly with every scoop of his hips. He was so fucking close, he could almost taste it. (Y/N) was still shaking in his hold, her fingers refusing to loosen from the muscles in his back as his continued motions started to bleed into overstimulation. Tears were streaming down her cheeks, landing like raindrops on Levi's neck as he was thrown over the edge, his back arching as a wet gasping noise tore itself from his throat. His hips jerked as he spilled inside of her, painting her already dripping walls white with his release.

It was only after he had spurted the last few ropes of cum into her pussy that Levi finally stopped, collapsing against her with his arms lazily looped around her waist. (Y/N) grunted at the sudden weight pressing against her but didn’t push him away, merely scratching the coarse hair of his undercut before moving up into his silkier raven strands. They fought to catch their breath, ghosting their lips over one another every once in a while as they allowed the silence to permeate the space.

“Did we just-?”

“Yeah,” Levi grunted.

(Y/N) chuckled, warming his heart and chasing away any possible doubts that could’ve surfaced in his mind. “Looks like you’re all better now, no notable injuries. At least, none that will hinder your physical activity.”

Levi snorted, giving her waist a spiteful squeeze, “Yeah, except for the new ones you left on my back and neck, brat.”

(Y/N) swooped in to press her lips to his kiss-swollen ones. “Well, I happen to know a pretty good doctor who might be willing to help you with those.”

Levi grinned at her, “Send her to my office later tonight, I might have a few ideas on how she can make it up to me.”

“I will, but only if you promise to take her out to dinner sometime afterwards.”

Levi nodded and held her close. Who was he to deny such a request? Afterall, he had a promise from Farlan to keep, and he’d be a damn idiot to let the chance pass him by.

[miekasa]

NICE.

+ pairings: eren yeager + (fem) reader

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

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

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

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

+ word count: 19k. i’m sorry.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Uh, yeah.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you, baby. I love you.”

“Eren?”

“Yeah?”

“Get off my line.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, no—of course not.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It was almost three thou—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It wasn’t mine, I was—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And what’s it matter to you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m not avoiding him,” you frown.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You sound like you speak from personal experience.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“His parents?” Jean cuts you off.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Have you… told Eren yet?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is… is that why you—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He smiles. “I do.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I want you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You—you, too.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah? What, baby?”

“Kiss me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I didn’t taste any almonds.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I mean—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Eren—”

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

“Eren—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I thought it was pretty obvious.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And you took it, anyway?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Eren loves you, more than you could ever know.

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

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

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

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

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

“Mitchell, I have to—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And if I asked you now?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[cjsinkythoughts]

Rocks, Shoulders, and Ears

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 3501

Warnings: !FATWS SPOILERS!, Cursing, Major Angst in this one, guys, Loads of Feels (sorry not sorry), John Walker being a douche (I really don’t like the guy)

A/N: I’m SO SORRY! I promise I was planning on it being shorter, but I went a little overkill with the angst! There’s just so many feelings and not enough space in my heart and soul, so I had to pour them out here! You get to see more of Reader and Sam’s relationship in this one and there’s major Bucky Feels towards the end (in my defense, this is based on the Couples Therapy half of the episode).

I’m really hoping we get to see Bucky go to Louisiana next episode! I’m holding out for it! I have a few ideas that include Sarah, but I need the episode! Ugh! Now we have to wait a whole ‘nother week! I really shouldn’t write three chapters on one episode in one day. I just couldn’t help myself!

Anyways! Please enjoy this part and thank you so much for all your support! Seriously, it’s meant so much to me, especially after the week I’ve had! If you haven’t checked out the previous parts, my FATWS Series Masterlist is HERE, so please go read those first. Like always, this isn’t beta’d so please excuse any mistakes! Enjoy, babes!

!SPOILERS UNDER CUT!

The last thing you remembered was falling asleep in Bucky’s arms after walking a few miles. And a hospital in DC wasn’t exactly what you preferred waking up to, but it’s what happened. Turned out, not only was your shoulder dislocated and your thigh was strained, but you had a mild concussion. Your arm was in a sling and your palm, which you had completely forgotten about after you wrapped it while on Bucky’s back, was wrapped properly. Luckily, your thigh wasn’t too bad, but they wanted to put you on crutches, which you refused immediately.

You had to get out of that building. You had no idea where the guys went, which was weird because you were sure they’d never leave you alone. Especially in a hospital.

You quickly snuck your way through the halls after grabbing your bag which - thank God - was left on the seat besides your bed and changing into an extra pair of clothes. 

You tried calling Bucky’s phone, the one he had specifically for you, which he always always answered. He even made an excuse to go to the bathroom once when you accidentally called in the middle of a therapy session. Nothing. You called the number four times before trying Sam’s phone.

It clicked on the first try.

“Hey. Listen, sorry for leaving-”

“Where the hell are you?”

You heard him sigh. “I was just about to explain, so hang on a second there. You weren’t waking up, probably because that concussion you forgot to mention to us-”

“In my defense, I didn’t know.”

“Sure you didn’t.” You rolled your eyes, throwing your free hand up, exasperated. “Anyways, Bucky wanted me to meet someone, we’ll talk about that when you inevitably get here, put we had a bit of trouble and Bucky was arrested-”

“What?!”

“Chill your pants, Y/L/N. Just listen. We’re in Baltimore. I’ll text you the address. Get here soon and I’ll explain the whole thing. We’ve been here for a couple hours, but there’s people on their way and we’re getting everything situated right now.”

“Okay. Fine. But you’re in trouble.”

“Don’t I know it, babe. Now hurry your cute little ass here. We’ve got stuff to talk about.”

*****************

The ride from DC to Baltimore is usually an hour or so, but you’ve got resources, especially in the nation’s capital, and riding the bike you got, being able to go way over the speed limit? You got there in half the time. Being an Avenger really does have its perks.

The moment you got there, you hopped off the bike, not even bothering to turn it off, and stormed into the precinct. You headed straight over to the desk, but a pair of hands caught you by your uninjured arm before you could make a scene.

“Hey, hey, hey.” Sam spoke softly, squeezing your bicep gently. “He’s okay, alright?”

“Why is he-”

“He missed his court-mandated therapy session.” Sam informed you, pulling you over to where he had been sitting previously. “There was a warrant out for his arrest. They had to bring him in, but it’s fine. His therapist’s been contacted. She should be here any minute to get him out.”

Your head fell back at his words. His therapy. How could you forget? You let Bucky complain to you about it and played along sometimes, but you really did think it was good for him and you tried supporting him. Yet you made him miss it and now he’s in trouble.

“Hey. Y/N. Look at me.” You found Sam’s worried eyes, his hand coming up to hold the side of your neck. “He’s okay. He’ll be out in just a bit. It’s fine.”

“It’s my fault, Sam.”

“No. It’s not. He’s a grown ass man who made the decision to skip.”

You shook your head, holding his wrist for something to anchor you down. “No, Sammy. I brought him along. I should’ve been more responsible-”

“I know we’ve joked around about you being in charge and stuff, but…you know it’s not all on your shoulders, right?” Sam tilted his head slightly, eyebrow pinched in confusion making his eyes narrow. 

You turned your head, not wanting to look at him. You didn’t need another set of deep eyes to fall into. “Sammy…I promised him I’d look after you.”

“I know. And that’s fine. But looking after us - looking after him - doesn’t mean you have to be there to hold his hand and take the fall for him. He’s not a child. Hell, he’s a hundred years old. Tell me you understand that.”

Licking your lips, you closed your eyes and shook your head again. “I-I can’t-”

“Is that why you’re obsessed with finding Wanda?”

You frowned at his question, eyes snapping to his. “I’m worried about her, Sam.”

“I am too, but she can handle herself. And if she doesn’t want to be found, you have to let her be. I know the Avengers were your only family. I know how much Steve meant to you-”

“No.” You pulled away rather harshly, digging your nails into your palms, trying not to cry, ignoring the wound you were irritating. “No, you don’t. How could you understand my feelings for Steve when I don’t understand them myself?”

Sam always had this ability to make anyone feel important, just by looking them in the eye. It was something you always admired about him; the way his smile could light up a room, those warm eyes making everyone’s fears go away. They reminded you of hot chocolate. Something that could soothe your worries, comfort you, warm your very soul from the ice tragedy and heartache tend to big on.

You promised yourself you wouldn’t cry in front of people, but with the way he was looking at you, it was hard to keep the tears from slipping.

“You loved him, Y/N. Why is it so hard for you to see that?”

“I didn’t - I wasn’t in love with him, Sam.” You argued, wiping your cheeks aggressively and turning, crossing your arms defensively.

“What do you call it then?”

It was a rhetorical question, Sam copying your movements and sitting straight to watch for Bucky coming out. A rhetorical question that you didn’t know the answer to. Because you weren’t in love with Steve. No. Maybe you had been, but somewhere along the way he passed your heart to Bucky. So why did it hurt so bad?

You refused to dwell on it anymore, clearing your throat and dabbing at your eyes one more time before changing the topic. “Why are we in Baltimore?”

“Bucky wanted me to meet someone. Isaiah. You know him?” Sam turned back to you, his warm eyes shifting into something else. Suspicion? A bit of anger? Annoyance? You couldn’t tell.

“Isaiah? I don’t think I know any Isaiahs. And definitely not here. Why? Who is he?”

Sam shook his head, eyes darting around the lobby. “We’ll talk about it later.”

You nodded, although now your curiosity had peaked and you wondered who this guy was that made Sam so agitated. While you waited, you felt your eyes drooping and you let your head fall onto Sam’s shoulder, who chuckled.

“You’re still tired? You know you slept for, like, twelve hours, right?”

“I haven’t been sleeping much.”

Sam turned his head to kiss yours. “Y/N, I know you want to care for everyone, but you’ve gotta take care of yourself too.”

“I know.”

“Okay.” And with that, the subject dropped, Sam pulling out his phone while you rested your eyes.

It was another ten minutes or so before Sam’s name was called and the both of you stood up to greet the speaker. A woman, Dr. Raynor. Bucky’s infamous therapist.

And speaking of infamous. The moment you heard his voice, you squeezed your eyes shut, hoping it was just your brain malfunctioning. And then he was walking towards you, calling Bucky ‘Bucky’ like they were old pals and he was saving him from something terrible.

Your face scrunched up as Walker talked about stopping Bucky’s regular therapy sessions. “He’s too valuable of an asset to have him tied up-”

“Don’t call him an asset.” You snapped. “He’s a human being with needs, and therapy-”

“He’s a super soldier with skills that we need.” Walker cut in, making you scowl as he turned back to Raynor.

You scoffed in disbelief at his words, turning on your heel and walking away before he did, heading straight for Bucky, who lifted his right arm, wrapping it around your shoulders once you were close enough.

“Are you okay?” You whispered, closing your eyes and trying to relax in his hold, breathing him in.

“Are you? Should you be walking? What did-”

You shook your head. “I’m fine.”

“Really?”

“Promise.” You sighed out with a nod, squeezing him once more before pulling back as Raynor stepped forwards, ordering Bucky and Sam to do a session with her. You almost laughed when Sam tried refusing, a little chuckle actually leaving your lips when Bucky slumped, dragging his feet like a kid going to the principal’s office.

You followed, Bucky holding the door open for you. “Thanks, Buck.”

“Of course, doll.” He gave a small smile, before walking in after you, Sam letting out a, “hey!” when Bucky shut the door on him, making you roll your eyes. You let the corners of your mouth tick up slightly in amusement. Yes, they annoyed the hell out of you, but you had to admit it was pretty funny sometimes.

“I believe I asked for James and Sam, Ms. Y/L/N.”

“It’s Agent, actually, and I think I’m gonna sit in.”

Raynor narrowed her eyes. “I don’t think-”

“That wasn’t a request.” You threw her words to Sam back at her, making Sam smirk. You shot him a wink as she relented with a sigh. 

“Fine. Just as a spectator. Don't interrupt.”

You raise your hands in surrender, slipping around the table to stand in the corner as your fellas sank down into the seats across the table from her.

A small puff of laughter came from you at the lack of response when she asked one of them to start. She shot you a warning look over her shoulder, but you shrugged. You couldn’t help it; it was like all those times back in grade school when a teacher asked for a volunteer to read in a classroom full of rowdy kids and crickets followed.

Once she mentioned the next exercise was used for couples, you had to laugh, making both men shoot you begging pouts.

“Y/N.” Raynor glared at you, so you controlled yourself, gesturing for her to continue.

Her miracle question did work so well, neither of them cooperating well.

She didn’t even bother with you when you started cackling after she mentioned the “soul-gazing exercise” and Bucky thanked her, Sam commenting that he would like this one. You gave a teasing wolf-whistle when they got close, one of Bucky’s thighs between Sam’s and vice versa.

“Doll.” Bucky whined at you.

“Listen here, smartass-”

Raynor cleared her throat, cutting Sam off from finishing his statement towards you. You leaned back against the wall, crossing your arms with a smirk. After all the bickering and side taking they’ve put her through, letting you enjoy this was the least they could do, and they knew it.

Of course, this exercise didn’t work out either. A staring contest. Children. She was best friends with literal children.

But then something happened. Something you never thought would happen. Raynor asked Bucky why Sam aggravated him, and Bucky looked over to you, his eye growing sad in a way they only did when Steve was involved.

“Steve believed in you.” Bucky told him earnestly. “He trusted you. He gave you that shield for a reason. That shield? That is…that is everything he stood for. That is his legacy. He gave you that shield, and you threw it away like it was nothing.  So maybe he was wrong about you. And if he was wrong about you, he was wrong about me.”

You heard his voice crack a little at the end as he slumped down in his seat, you jaw dropping slightly. You listened to the rest of the conversation, catching the way Sam grew irritated again, something that you didn’t previously think was possible, but was happening more and more now.

Why wasn’t Sam talking to you? Why was he holding all this in suddenly? And why…Bucky…he didn’t tell you that. Why didn’t he say anything? How could he ever feel…

But you knew how he could feel like that. Yes, Steve believed in him so much that he tore the Avengers apart for him…but he was the only one willing to do that for him. Yeah, you and Sam and Wanda and Clint, you all joined their side but, being honest, it wasn’t because you believed in Bucky. It was because you believed in Steve. Of course, it was different now. You believed in Bucky with your entire being, and you believed in Sam with your heart and soul, but…did either of them know that? Did they believe you when you told them? Or did you not tell them enough? This whole time you thought you were doing right by Steve - trying you damn hardest to watch out for them. But it obviously wasn’t enough. And that was on you, no matter what Sam said.

You read people. That’s what you’ve always done, that’s what you’d always do. It was the reason you earned your spot on the team. You read people and situations and could figure your way into their heads in a second. Years and years of undercover work taught you how to do that and how to protect yourself while doing so.

So why? How? How did you miss something this big? How did you miss the way Sam was holding onto something? Why did you ignore the vexation in his tone for the last couple weeks? How did you miss that Bucky was hurting that deeply? Why didn’t you do anything more for him?

You left the room before either of the boys, but you heard Sam standing up as you walked out the door.

You should’ve known you weren’t the only one holding things in. Of course they were. The difference is, you were supposed to be their rock, the thing they could hold onto to ground themselves, the shoulder for them to cry on, and the ear lent to them whenever they needed someone to listen. That was your job. It wasn’t their job. Not for you. Your rock - your shoulder, your ear - he left you. And you thought, after all he did for you, if you just returned the favor for his best friends, you’d…you dunno. You’d be closer to him, maybe.

But you couldn’t. Because you weren’t Steve Rogers. And you knew that from the start, but you had to try. You tried. And it wasn’t working. He made it seem so easy when he did it for you. Clearly you didn’t give him enough credit for dealing with all your shit on top of his own.

“Doll.” You didn’t stop walking, needing to get outside for some fresh air. “Doll, hold on. Wait a minute.”

He grabbed your arm as you made it outside, spinning you to face him. “You didn’t tell me.” You spoke quietly, your voice fragile as you stared at him, confusion and hurt in your eyes. Were you really that bad at doing your job? Did you really already fail him? He asked you to do one thing…

“I didn’t…I didn’t want you to deal with my problems.” You opened your mouth, but he shook his head, holding your face between his hands. “I’m not stupid, Y/N. I know something’s going on with you. You’re good at hiding your nightmares at night, but I’m better. You’re jumpier than usual. Quieter. Every time Wanda’s brought up, you turn away. And the other day? On the truck? You froze. I was watching, doll. It was just a second, but you froze. You never freeze.”

“It’s not your job to worry about me, Buck-”

He frowned, tilting his head. “Not my job? Aren’t we friends? Isn’t that what friends do? Or am I just a job to you? I know you promised him to look after me. Is that all I am to you? A responsibility?”

You shook your head vigorously, holding onto his wrists. “No. No, Bucky, I just-”

“Do you think he was wrong about me?”

Salty diamonds ran down your cheeks as you clenched your eyes shut and shook your head. “No.”

“Did you ever believe in me? Did you ever care or was it all just because Steve? Is Steve the only reason you tolerate me?”

“Don’t say that. God, please don’t say that.” You begged quietly, meeting his gaze again. Every beautiful detail was laced with devastation, eyes imploring her to make him feel better. “Of course I believe in you. I have since Wakanda, you know that. Yes, okay, maybe Steve is why I helped you at first, but-but…I care about you, James. So much so that it hurts sometimes. He wasn’t wrong about you. Or Sammy. You both mean so much to me. Okay?”

You watched his Adam’s Apple bob as he swallowed thickly, nodding slightly. You both simultaneously moved to get closer, him pulling you while you stepped into his chest, arms around his waist. His arms were tight around your shoulder, holding you just as firm as the kiss he planted on your forehead.

Sam came out, planting himself besides you as you pulled away, Bucky wiping your eyes. “I feel better.” He huffed out sarcastically, making you smack him in the arm. “Ow! Yeesh. Women these days.”

The sudden siren of one of the parked police cars made the three of you look over, spotting Walker and Hoskins. You groaned. “Did he see that?”

“Hey,” Bucky caught your jaw between his fingers, shaking his head. “Who cares? It’s between us and us only. Right?” You nodded, making him kiss your forehead again, a whisper of “attagirl” against your skin. You hadn’t heard that from him in a while.

“Gentlemen!” Walker waved them over, nodding at you. “And lady.” The three of you reluctantly walked over, Bucky going to lean on the police car Walker and Hoskins were near and you hopped up to sit on the hood of the police car across from them, Sam besides you.

You got information from Walker, who was once again trying to get you to work with him, but Sam summed it up nicely, explaining that the three of you didn’t have to follow the rules he did. You started to leave, Bucky tucking you under his arms once you slid off the car, when Walker stopped you once more.

“A word of advice, then. Stay the hell out of my way.”

You grumbled under your breath as the faker and his lapdog walked off. “I’m gonna kill him.” You vowed as the three of you started in the other direction. “I swear to God, I’m gonna rip that shield off his back and use it to beat him in that stupid face of his-”

“Down, girl.” Sam jested, flicking your ear. “We need a game plan. What’re we thinking?”

Your eyes narrowed as Bucky piped up, talking about the Isaiah character - who you still didn’t know - before HYDRA entered the equation.

“Absolutely not.” You shook your head, tugging his arm to make him stop once he mentioned Siberia. “Do you remember Siberia? Because if you’re actually suggesting what I think you’re suggesting, we remember Siberia very differently.”

“He’s our best bet-”

“So you’re just going to go sit in a room with this guy?”

Bucky scrunched up his nose. “Ye-yes…”

A beat of silence passed before Sam gave his stamp of approval, but you still disagreed. “There’s no way this’ll end well and I refuse to let you-”

You found your face between Bucky’s hands again. You really wished he’d stop doing that and just ask for your attention. You didn’t mean that, of course. You’d be held by him every second of every day if you could. “Don’t you trust me, doll?”

You licked your lips, looking around the darkened street. This was not a good idea. A bad plan - a terrible plan, really - but, unfortunately, it was the only one you had. “Dammit. I’ve got a really bad feeling about this.” You finally sighed, running a hand through your hair after Bucky let go of you, his eyebrow quirking.

“Is that a yes?”

Sam nodded. “We’re gonna go see Zemo.”

You tugged Bucky’s hand when he nodded back and went to walk after Sam, who started walking around the corner, making him stop. “And yes. I do trust you. With everything I have, Buckaroo.”

[scuttling]

Stay at Home DILF

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader Word Count: 5,863 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Dad Bod Hotch, Insecure Hotch, Oral sex, Fingering, Unprotected sex, A little angsty by accident Summary: Aaron retires from the BAU when the new baby is born, but a year later the lack of structure, sleep, and time for himself means changes to his body he's not very proud of. When the thought of having another child is brought up, how will he and his wife work through his insecurities to make the perfectly imperfect, happy family? *Requested by anon Link to A03 or read below! “Honey, I have to get going—do you need me to drop Jack off at school, or are you good?” Professor Hotchner slides her foot into a flesh-toned pump, leaning against the kitchen table for support and stealing a grape from Jack’s fruit salad. He narrows his eyes, then sticks out his tongue, and she does the same. “Do you want me to starve, Jackrabbit?”

“You won’t starve. Get your own grapes.” So full of sass, that one. Seven is such a fun age. She decides to blame the mixture of Aaron’s genes and Haley’s, and she pulls out her phone to send Haley a quick text.

Your son is a menace in the morning.

Haley: Gets that from his dad.

Aaron enters the kitchen, holding their one year old daughter Mia, and he sticks her in her highchair, puts her breakfast in front of her, and leans toward his wife.

“I’m good, I’ll take him,” he says, and kisses her lips. “Mia and I will take big brother Jack to school, won’t we?” Mia is obsessed with Jack—her first word was Jack, or rather, Ack, which was super cute—so she giggles happily, and her mother can’t help but smile. Their little family is absolutely perfect.

She leans in for another kiss from Aaron, and then another, and then maybe one more...

“You’re getting distracted,” Jack says, and she looks over at him with a raised eyebrow, then back to Aaron. He shrugs.

“It was on one of his vocabulary sheets.” Figures.

“Well, maybe I find my boys distracting. Let me give you kisses and we’ll find out!” She launches herself at him, kissing his head and his cheeks, and he laughs, and she knows she’s going to be late for work, but she can’t pass up moments like these, she just can’t.

She gives him a hug and tells him to have a good day, then she kisses Mia, and then she puts her arms around Aaron’s neck and kisses him goodbye. Before she pulls away, something comes over her—the warmth of this perfect morning, the overwhelming love for both of their sassy, silly kids, or maybe the fact that they’ve been too busy for sex lately and she’s constantly horny for him—and she looks up at him and whispers, “we should have another baby.”

Aaron grins immediately.

“Yeah we should.” They kiss a few more times, quickly, smiling against each other's lips, and he pats her hip because he knows she has to go. “We’ll talk more later, but yes. I want to. I love you.” He takes her face in his hands and kisses her deeply, and she sighs, grabs her bags, and heads out the door. Work is work; as the youngest professor in the English department, her schedule is jam packed with classes, lectures, morning office hours, but despite all that, it seems that Aaron is having the more difficult day.

They both love that he was able to retire from the BAU early to be a stay at home dad when Mia was born—he does consult for them occasionally, but has no official title, doesn’t have to travel—and he’s amazing at it, but she knows her baby can be a handful even on a good day. The texts she’s been getting all morning only solidify that knowledge.

Aaron: FYI - Mia hates bananas this week.

Aaron: What do they put in this applesauce, crack? She’s tearing around here like a bat out of hell.

Aaron: Okay, she’s your child, I officially renounce her. I put on The White Album and she started crying.

Maybe she prefers Abbey Road?

Aaron: No. Unlike her mother, she has taste.

You wound me, Hotchner.

She works through lunch, grading papers on The Call of the Wild, but when Aaron’s name lights up the display on her phone, she puts her pen down and smiles, puts it on speaker.

She’s sorry she did, because Mia is wailing in the background, and it’s very clearly her, I’m exhausted, asshole, leave me alone, cry, which makes her wonder why she’s not taking a nap. She knows she resists Aaron sometimes, doesn’t want him to leave her alone in her room, which is so sweet and also so, so annoying.

“Hi, sweetheart. Are you having a little trouble over there?” He takes a deep breath and sighs.

“She won’t go down, baby, even if I sit in the rocking chair beside her. It’s been twenty minutes.” Wow. He put up with it longer than she would have.

“Put her in her crib with Stuffy Bear and just let her cry; I know you hate that, but she’ll give up eventually.” He groans softly.

“I can’t; I feel so bad.”

She smiles. Her warm-hearted man.

“She does this because she knows you’ll give in and do whatever she wants. I promise you, she’ll be happier for it; she sounds miserable.”

“I don’t know…” he says, and she can tell he’s not going to do it. She picks up her pen and skims the paper she abandoned.

“Are you tired?” She doesn't wait for an answer, because she knows he is: Jack had a bad dream last night and woke them both up, and Aaron went to lay with him until he fell asleep because he knew she had an early morning. It was almost time for her alarm when he made it back to bed. “If you want to try to nap, she’s going to have to nap. Do it for her, yourself, me, a combination of the three of us. She won’t be mad at you; she won’t even remember.”

“What if I give her abandonment issues?” he presses, and she closes her eyes for a moment.

“Aaron, I love you so much. You’re such a great dad, and our kids are lucky to have you. But you have to loosen the reins just a little, especially if… if we are going to have another baby.” The thought makes her smile, and she can tell he’s smiling down the line, too.

“Right. Loosen the reins. Just put her in her crib,” she can hear that he does that, “and give her Stuffy Bear, and let her cry.” He blows out a breath, and she can hear the door click shut behind him as he leaves her room. She’s proud of him, but she also knows he’s going to sit in front of the video monitor and watch to make sure she falls asleep, and that he’ll probably work on laundry after that and not actually take a nap of his own.

He insists he’s doing fine when she brings it up, but the way he sacks out like a corpse when they get into bed doesn’t exactly have her convinced.

“I love you, and miss you,” he says when it’s slightly quieter, though she can faintly hear the cries through the monitor. “It made me really happy this morning when you said we should have another baby. We make perfect babies, have you noticed?” She hides her grin behind her hand, because if anyone walked by her office they’d think she’s insane with how widely she’s smiling.

“I have noticed, but since we only have the one and I can’t take any credit for Jack, I figured we should probably make another. Maybe the same way we made Mia…” They’re both convinced it was a weekend when Jack was at Haley’s and the two of them went to town on each other, true marathon sex where they only stopped for food and water and she coaxed him to hardness so many times she felt like a damn sex goddess.

“Hmm. I remember that with fondness, and would love to do that again. You know Haley said she’d take Mia on one of Jack’s weekends if we ever needed her to.”

Her life is pretty damn perfect, with her gorgeous, caring husband, and her two awesome kiddos, and a job she loves, but the most unexpectedly sweet part is that Haley is so comfortable with her, and that she and Aaron were able to get past the ugliness of their divorce to eventually become friends again. It’s not something they take for granted.

“Maybe we should take her up on it this weekend,” she says, trying to sound a little sultry. “We’ve both been so busy; it’s been a while since you pet my kitty.” For some reason, this particular phrase makes Aaron blush and get insanely horny, and she’s hoping to tease him so much the rest of the week that their weekend is one neither of them ever forget, so she’s pulling out the big guns.

“It’s been far too long, and I’m sorry. I can’t wait, baby. I’ll call her here in a few; I know you have to get to your next lecture.” She looks down at her watch, and it is about time to clean up and head over. She sighs happily down the line.

“Okay, I love and miss you; try to take a power nap. I promise, she’ll be fine.”

“I will.” He won’t. “Talk to you soon.” When she gets home, Aaron has dinner ready; she told him to hold off, that she’d help when she got there, but he has always been an overachiever.

Mia is already in her high-chair, waiting patiently for once in her little life; she kisses her forehead, breathes in her sweet baby smell, and then makes her way to her husband.

“Looks good, honey,” she says as he sets the table, and she leans up for a kiss, but when she presses her hand to his stomach like she always does, he pulls back a little. “Is everything okay? Did you have a bad afternoon?”

“No, it wasn’t bad after the nap fiasco,” he responds, but he sounds distracted. Maybe he was asked to look at a case, or something, and that’s still on his mind? She leans against his shoulder, puts a hand on his back and attempts to push up his t-shirt, to skim her hand up along his spine, which always comforts him, but again, he shifts away from her touch. She sighs and steps back.

“You're going to give me a complex, Aaron. If I did something to upset you, please tell me so I can apologize and try to make it better.” He turns to look at her face, and his formerly tense jaw softens a little; he presses his lips to hers, just a peck.

“No, you didn’t do anything. I’m just a little tired, that’s all.” He smiles softly, and she’s sure he is tired, but this seems like something more.

“You’d tell me if something else was bothering you, right? You know I’m here for you.”

“Of course I would, and of course I do. I love you,” he breathes against her mouth, and then he goes in for a longer kiss and she gets, as Jack said earlier, a little distracted. When the kiss breaks, she sighs happily.

“I love you. Missed those lips,” she murmurs, and then she runs a hand over his hair. “If the kids wake up again tonight, I’ll get them. You need to rest.” He shakes his head.

“You have another full day tomorrow,” he counters, and it’s so sweet that he keeps up with the schedule she has posted on the fridge, but still. She puts her hand on her hip.

“And you don’t? It’s my turn. Let me help.” He looks like he wants to argue, but she gives him the glare he knows means she will talk about this all night if he doesn’t agree; she’s not the sponsor of the university’s debate team for nothing, and even his prosecutorial ways have nothing on her.

“Okay,” he sighs, and she smiles and kisses him and then goes to get Jack and make sure he’s cleaned up for dinner.

That night when the two of them are getting ready for bed, she’s surprised as hell when he stops her from pulling one of his t-shirts—her typical sleepwear—over her head. She sets it down, arches her brow, and he guides her back onto the bed with a grin and puts his hands on her hips.

“What’s happening right now?” she asks, because before Mia, sure, Aaron would treat her to all manner of orgasm-inducing behavior at random, and she would do the same, but since Mia—especially in the last six months or so—their sexual encounters have been few and far between. It’s no one’s fault, and they’re both very clearly still attracted to each other; it’s just one of those things that falls by the wayside when you have a new baby and a hectic life and you don’t get enough sleep.

Needless to say, she is a little confused by this turn of events.

“I’m attempting to worship my gorgeous fucking wife,” he murmurs, and he leans up and kisses her stomach, licks a long line up from her belly button. Her breath hitches. “Gonna put another little baby in here—but it’s always beautiful.” He slowly moves his lips higher, over her ribcage, and holds her there. “You’re perfect, you know?”

“Aaron.” Her fingers come up to sweep through his hair; her heart aches with love and tenderness. He moves up, presses open-mouthed kisses to each of her breasts, then covers them with his hands and squeezes. She’s a panting, dripping mess, and more than anything she wants to strip him naked, pull him closer, get him inside her.

“I love you just as you are; I want you just as you are. Always have, always will.” He smooths his hands up over her throat, and brings her mouth to his for a deep, soulful kiss. She hadn’t even realized she’s been feeling repressed, but his touch tonight makes her feel so beautiful and special… It's incredible how close she is from only that.

“Make love to me,” she whispers, and he kisses her again, but then he slides back down her body.

“Want to taste you,” he says instead, and he gets his hands on her hips again and his mouth on her pussy, looks up at her while he licks and sucks like he’s gone without for ages—which he has, she figures, but it’s blowing her mind, her fingers scratching at the sheets, her neck arched. He massages her hips as his tongue works, as he grinds against the bed, and she comes with a whimper, because her body is so overwhelmed by how good she feels that she can’t even properly vocalize it.

Aaron comes up, just a little, rests his head on her stomach, and she smooths her hands over his hair and his shoulders, since that’s all she can reach.

“Come up and let me touch you—or you can come inside me.” She will happily take either option, but he just kisses her belly and shakes his head.

“No, I’m good. Just really tired.” She frowns, can’t recall a time in her life when they didn’t both get off during sex; he catches her expression and runs his hands up her body. “Really, I’m okay. I just wanted to do that before I passed out.” He smiles, and she doesn’t like it, but he climbs off of her and goes to the bathroom, and she pulls on the t-shirt and crawls into bed. Two days later, she’s sitting in her office grading tests when she hears a knock at the door. She looks up, and it’s Aaron, of course, looking so gorgeous in a black polo and jeans.

“Hey, what are you doing here? Where’s Mia?” she asks with a smile. He leans against the doorframe with his arms crossed.

“She’s with her Aunt Penelope for a few hours.”

“Why? Is everything okay?” Penelope is at work, she knows, because she texted her earlier about something unrelated and she’d mentioned that she and Spencer were having coffee and that he said hello.

“Everything‘s fine,” he assures her, and he enters the room fully, closes the door behind him… and locks it. “Can’t your husband come visit you during your super secret not-really-office-hours?” She raises an eyebrow, both at his question and the fact that he locked the door. What exactly is he planning to do, she wonders?

“You can, but you don’t. I guess I’m just surprised.”

“Well today I decided to. I missed you so much.” He walks around her desk and leans over her for a couple of kisses. “Have you missed me?” She rolls her eyes, smiles.

“Of course I missed you. I miss you every second I’m away from you.” She reaches out, wants to hug him, pull him closer, but he takes a step back and crooks his finger, encouraging her to follow him.

He’s being really weird, but he’s also being really hot. She decides to play along.

She stands, walks over to him, and he carefully clears a spot on her desk, knows she has a system and doesn’t like a mess; when she’s within reach, he puts his hands on her waist and lifts her up onto it, her ass where a stack of tests had just been. Fuck.

“I want to get this dress off of you,” he says, voice low, and he takes her face in his hands and kisses her, rough and deep. “Can I take it off, baby? Can I make you come?”

Everything is happening so fast her head is spinning—it’s not like him to just show up at her office, to try to have sex with her there, especially when their dry spell has been, up until recently, like the damn Sahara.

He must sense her confusion, her apprehension, because he kisses slowly along the side of her throat, down the v-neck of her dress, making her eyelids flutter.

“The door’s locked, and no one even knows we’re in here. Can I take it off?” She pants, thinks about this for a second, but then he slides a hand over her thigh, pushing her skirt up, and she gets a little distracted. She nods, and he kisses her hard and unties the sash of her wrap dress, pushes it off her shoulders. She’s glad she wore a matching set of bra and panties, because this is like prime fantasy material and she wants to try to remember every detail.

He kisses her mouth, soft and sweet, then tugs the straps of her bra down her shoulders, pulls the cups down so her breasts fall out of them. She moans, a little startled, and he dips his head to mouth at her nipples, rests one hand on her lower back and one on her stomach—probably because she looks like she’s about to slide off the desk and onto the floor like a blob of jelly. She knows that’s how she feels.

When he’s gotten her thoroughly worked up, almost trembling with the need for more, he pushes her panties aside and presses a finger into her, and she whimpers, wraps her hand around his neck for support when he starts to pump it deeply inside.

“What has gotten into you?” she breathes, and her hips chase the pleasure he brings; the hand on her back moves to her ass, squeezes it.

“I love you and I want you. I want to make you happy, I want you to feel good.”

“Me—me too,” she gasps as he moves faster, staring right into his eyes. “I love you, want you. Want to make you happy, feel good.” She cards her fingers through his hair and stretches for a desperate, eager kiss. “I want you so badly, baby, please.”

“I’m right here. You have me,” he murmurs, but that’s not what she means and he has to know it. Just in case he doesn’t, though, she makes herself loud and clear; relationships are all about communication, after all.

“I want you to put your cock in my pussy, I want you to come in me. I want you to fucking ruin me, Aaron, I want you to shove your dick in me and keep shoving.” She sounds unhinged, but she can’t stop.

He adds a second finger—not what she wants—and roughly gropes her breast—it feels so good, but it’s not what she wants. Why won’t he give her what she wants?

“Shh, just come on my hand, it’s okay. I’ll fuck you later, in our bed, baby,” he promises. “Just come now, okay? Right here, right now for me.”

She does, because even if he’s being unnecessarily aggravating, it’s still Aaron. She’s desperate for him, always has been, always will be. She comes loud and high and she clutches him tightly and he kisses her and coos words of love and affection into her ear. She gets cleaned up, and they go for lunch, and they can’t take their eyes off each other.

Something’s very wrong, and she can’t quite put her finger on it.

That evening when she gets home, Aaron is feeling guilty. She’s not sure why, but he’s executing all of his patented guilty trademark behaviors: he offers her a glass of wine, runs her a bath, rubs her feet, even though he’s been the one home with the baby all day. She’s tempted to ask if he’s cheating on her, as a joke, but that’s never funny, especially when she knows he’s being shifty and weird about something.

When they’re laying in bed, he sets down his book and looks over at her.

“I meant to tell you, Haley isn’t able to take Mia tomorrow. Maybe the weekend after, we can have our special alone time.” She won’t say she’s not disappointed, but she doesn’t want to inconvenience Haley, when she’s already being so great. She smiles softly, covers his hand with hers.

“That’s okay. It was short notice, anyway. I’ll still enjoy my weekend, with you and Mia.” He smiles too, but it doesn’t quite touch his eyes.

The kids sleep through the night, but she doesn’t. On Friday, she picks Jack up from school and takes him to Haley’s, who sends him to wash up so she can make him a snack. When he’s gone, she smiles warmly and invites her into the kitchen for coffee; she takes a cup, and they make pleasant small talk like they always do.

“Are you sure you don’t want to bring Mia over?” Haley asks after a few minutes. It sounds like she’s double checking. “It’s really no trouble.” She frowns, sets her cup down.

“I thought you weren’t able to watch Mia this weekend. I thought… I thought that’s what Aaron said. I must have misunderstood him.” That’s the only logical conclusion, because Aaron wouldn’t lie to her. He wouldn’t.

“He was being a little weird on the phone the other day. He asked me if I would watch her, and I said yes. He told me about your plans,” she says with raised eyebrows, “and then I told him, you know. That he better treat you right, because you just had a baby not that long ago and you might be a little self-conscious about jumping back into the sack like that; not that you should be, because you look amazing.” She racks her brain for the first time he started acting strangely, pulling away from her, and it would have been after his conversation with Haley. She asks, just to confirm.

“Is that when he got weird?”

“Actually yeah. He changed his mind, said you might not need me to watch her after all, but I told him the offer stood. He was pretty quick to get off the phone after that.” She would sip her coffee, but she’s pretty sure her hands are shaking. Why would he lie about that?

“You know, I should go. I’m sure Aaron’s pulling his hair out with her, she’s been a devil today. Tell Jack I love him and I’ll talk to him tonight, will you?”

“Of course. If you change your mind about Mia, just let me know,” Haley says, and she gets into her car with tears stinging her eyes.

When she gets home, Aaron is playing with Mia on the living room floor. He looks up at her with a smile that abruptly falls when he takes in her facial expression.

“What’s wrong?” She composes herself, takes a deep breath. They vowed a long time ago not to argue in front of Jack or Mia. She tries to sound conversational.

“You lied to me. You said Haley couldn’t take Mia this weekend.” He swallows and looks properly guilty. She’s not sure how he was able to lie to her in the first place; he’s never been any good at it.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have. I just didn’t know how to say it.” She looks up, shakes her head, wills her eyes not to water while she’s trying to have this conversation.

“You didn’t know how to say what? What is it that’s made you distance yourself from me?” She recalls him physically pulling away, then doing a complete 180 and initiating sex, but never penetrative sex, never letting her touch him or return the favor in any way. “Haley told me about your conversation. So do you think I’m unhappy with my body, or are you unhappy with my body?” He has the nerve to look confused, gets Mia set up with some toys she can play with safely on her own and stands up, comes close to her. She’s not sure she even wants his touch right now, which is saying something; when she’s unhappy, that’s usually all she wants.

“Neither of those things. I swear to god. I love you and I love your body; you’re so beautiful. Too beautiful for me, you always have been.” He’s looking down at her so seriously, and she wants so badly to believe him, but how could she, when faced with the evidence?

“Okay. If it’s neither of those things…” Her voice is small when she says the one option that hurts her most. “Did you change your mind? Do you not want to have another baby with me?” He sighs, deflates, and she takes a deep, shuddering breath.

“No, listen to me. It’s not that I don’t want that; I want that more than anything, but it will… further complicate, things...” He trails off, and she tries to follow what he’s saying. “The problem isn’t you in any way. It’s me.” She huffs, squeezes her eyes briefly shut.

“You? How can it be you, when you’ve been the only man to catch my eye for years? From the moment you set foot on my campus looking for your bad guy, I’ve been attracted to you, aroused by you, wrapped around your finger. You’re so perfect for me: perfect husband, perfect dad, perfect lover. My best friend. Never a day has gone by where I haven’t wanted you.” He wets his lips, sighs.

“Surely you’ve noticed that since I quit my job and started staying home with Mia, I… I don’t look the same. I’ve… let myself go.” His brows are deeply furrowed, and he’s clearly struggling with this; she reaches for him, no longer angry—at least for the time being—puts a hand on his arm.

“I’ve noticed that you don’t quite look the same. Doesn’t mean you’ve ‘let yourself go,’ or that I’m not still attracted to you; you just have a dad bod now instead of an ‘FBI guy who punches people for a living’ bod.” Her other hand hovers, then comes to rest on his stomach, and she smiles. “I’m actually really into the way you look now. I’ve been fantasizing about it for ages. I wish I’d known you were feeling self-conscious.”

“I’m not used to feeling… self-conscious, vulnerable,” he breathes, but he presses into her touch, so she considers that a good thing. “I didn’t know how to handle it.”

“I get that baby, I do, but this is me. I would have done anything I could to make you feel better. You didn’t have to hide it from me. You didn’t have to lie. We could have talked about it.” She moves the hand on his arm to his face, guides him down for a loving kiss. “We’re equally to blame, because I know you haven’t been getting good sleep, and I know you barely have time for yourself, and I didn’t step in; but you never let me help. If roles were reversed, and it was me staying home with Mia, you would never expect me to do all the cooking and cleaning and homework and bath time without your help. So you need to let me help, Aaron, please.” She looks up at him, eyes warm and sincere, and he nods, bends to press a kiss to her lips.

“I’m sorry. I still don’t feel great about… myself, but maybe I could. If I let you help. If I took some time for me.” She nods and wraps her arms around him—finally—for a hug.

“I love you so much. Just like this. Big, cuddly papa bear, taking care of our babies, making our home a safe and happy place for them. How could I not love the body that brings me so much happiness? That makes me excited to get in my car and come home at the end of every day?”

They kiss some more, deep, healing kisses and soft, sweet kisses, but she doesn’t get distracted by them. She’s very focused, caresses him and brushes loving fingertips over his chest and arms and sides. But speaking of distractions…

“Were you doing all those sexy things to try to distract me from wanting you to get all up on me?” she asks, pulling back, and at least he has the decency to flush.

“Kind of? I figured if it was sex you wanted, you’d be happy to get off however it happened; it was great for me too, don’t get me wrong, I just didn’t really want to be touched, feeling the way I felt.” She frowns, rests her head against his chest and holds him tighter.

“That makes me sad. What I wanted was an intimate moment with my husband, and while yes, what you did for me was great, because you’re super hot and very capable,” she says, leaning back in his embrace with a soft smile, “it’s not what I’ve been wanting. I want you all naked and sweaty and heavy on top of me, going to pound town.” He presses his lips together and raises his eyebrows.

“Pound town? What are you, twelve?” She grins, shoves his chest, and he laughs.

“I’m surrounded by college kids all day, please forgive me. I think it got my message across though.” She touches his cheek, looks up into his eyes, and sighs. “Can we take Mia over to Haley’s and give it a shot? I’ll do anything to make you feel happy and comfortable, any position that makes you feel better—though what I’d really like most, if you’ll trust me, is to suck your dick, and then hop on your dick, and then later when we’re ready to go again, we do the pound town thing and make another goddamn baby.”

She’s so serious, and he looks so serious, and then he kisses her and says yes and they pack up their kid and take her to his ex-wife’s so they can get it on, which sounds so much crazier than it actually is. She gets him out of his clothes, doesn’t move slow or spend lots of time focusing on what he thinks are flaws; instead, she proves how desirable he is by practically tearing his pants off and pushing him against the bed and swallowing around his dick just so she can hear all those delicious moans she’s been missing.

After that, she rides him hard, kisses him harder, plants her hands on his chest and stomach and moans and groans against his mouth. “So fucking hot, seriously so fucking hot, Aaron—if I saw you across the room today I wouldn’t change a goddamn thing, I would still pursue you, I’d make you blush like I did back then. I’d be so forward because I wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about how good this would feel.”

She’s rocking his world, no doubt about that; it’s written all over his face, in the hardness of his hands on her hips as she grinds down on his cock, in the way his chest is heaving despite not actually doing any of the work at all. He comes first, and then rubs her clit while she continues to fuck him until she finds her own orgasm; she scratches her nails down his stomach, and he leans up and grabs her face for a rough, perfect kiss.

They take a break, cuddling and kissing and enjoying the feel of bare skin, comfy bed, soft lips. Aaron touches her cheek, tells her how much he loves and appreciates her.

“I’m so sorry I’ve been keeping this inside, and not being truthful. It’s hard, when you’re as perfect as the day I met you, and I’m…” She presses a finger to his lips, shushes him, kisses him.

“You’re as perfect as the day I met you, too. More perfect, even, because every day since then you’ve chosen me, and our family. I could not ask for a better man. Simply could not, Aaron. And if you want me to come home early so you can go to the park to run, or to the gym, then that’s what I'll do, but if you look like you do right now, forever, I’ll be happy with that too. Whatever makes you happy.”

They snuggle and kiss and talk and laugh, and then laughing becomes sex in that way everything becomes sex when you’re genuinely obsessed with the person in your bed.

He gets her on her back, kisses all over, teases her—“mmm, rubbing your kitty, baby, how does it feel?”—and then puts her legs over his shoulders, plants his hands, and fucks, taking every ounce of his pent-up frustration out on her, and it’s incredible.

“Yes, Aaron, yes, baby, oh, god.” Her head is thrown back, and she’s torn between laughing, because she’s been wanting this for months and it’s exactly as awesome as she’d dreamed it would be, and crying, because she fucking loves him, so much it puts a lump in her throat.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans, speeds up, sweaty and gorgeous and smiling. “You’re going to come with me—not just for me, but with me, so my come gets deep inside, so it works and we get another perfect baby who never lets us fucking sleep.” She nods frantically, presses her hips against his, and it’s not simultaneous, but it’s a near damn thing, when they both come groaning each other’s names. A little less than a year later, they have Mason. Aaron is at home in his dad bod, Mia doesn’t cry at naptime, Jack is still a menace in the mornings, and their perfect little family got a little more perfect. Taglist ❤️: @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal @g-l-pierce @my-rosegold-soul

[wandaromanova]

Date Night

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Warnings: cussing, sexual suggestion, that’s all!

A/N: hello! here is some fluff for y’all! hope you enjoy! happy reading <3

anon requested: Hi honey! I saw that your requests are open :)) I was wondering if I may please request a fluffly Natasha Romanoff x fem reader one shot, where she surprises the reader with a lunch date (reader has had a super stressful week!) and then convinces her to take the rest of the day off. Later on maybe Natasha starts dropping hints at their future together and later on in the week she proposes (maybe somewhere that has meaning to them) after a very romantic dinner. Thank you!! :))

Summary: Natasha convinces her girlfriend to take some time off of work. They end up having a date night unlike any of their previous ones.

Word Count: 3K

| masterlist | request rules/guidelines | wips |

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

Natasha stared up at the tall building with two bags of food in hand. She was about to surprise you with some lunch, considering you haven’t been able to take a single break the entire week.

Seriously, even when you were at home, you’d be working on paperwork or taking call after call from your company partners. You’d then go back to work the next morning and completely neglect your own needs, the only thing you’d focus on was anything work-related.

You were the CEO of a major telecommunications company and things have been super hectic around your office. You barely had time to breathe with everything that had been going on, so, Natasha thought that it would be a good idea to give you a nice surprise.

She made her way into the building and got into one of the fancy elevators, quickly tapping the button to the top floor and stood in silence, lively elevator music filling the small space.

When the doors opened, she walked out and was greeted by your secretary; Megan.

“Hi, Ms. Romanoff. Ms. L/N is just in her office working on some paperwork. She has a meeting in 20 minutes, though.”

Megan sent Natasha a friendly smile. The redhead simply nodded and mumbled out a small ‘thank you’ before opening the door to your office.

She was met with the sight of you hunched over your desk. The light poured into the tall windows in the room, providing sufficient lighting.

You glanced up from your papers at the sound of the door closing softly. Natasha smiled at you and held up the bags of food. Your lips turned upward at the sight of your girlfriend of five years.

“Honey, what are you doing here?” You asked as you got up from your desk, quickly making your way over to greet the Russian. You pulled her in by the waist and into a tight hug.

“I thought you could use some lunch. You haven’t been taking care of yourself and I’m here to change that.” Natasha mumbled into your neck as her arms rested on your shoulder, gripping onto the food she still had in her hands.

“Baby, you didn’t need to come all the way here. I’m fine, just been super busy lately is all.” You pulled back slightly and stared into green eyes.

“Yes, I needed to. I can’t just standby while you’re practically drowning in stress.”

Natasha got out of your embrace and made her way over to your desk, placing the food down and turning around, leaning onto the table with two hands gripping the furniture behind her.

“I’ll manage, it’s kind of my job.” You let out a small giggle, rounding the desk and sitting on your chair. Natasha turned in her spot as you patted your lap.

“Come on, let’s eat the food you brought. I have a meeting soon so we gotta be quick.”

Natasha walked toward you and sat in your lap, your arms circling around her waist. She opened the food and laid out the plates of Thai food.

Natasha fed you and herself. You both sat in silence, simply enjoying each other’s company.

Occasionally, Nat would mimic an airplane or train noise as she moved the spoon closer to you, laughing as she abruptly shoved the utensil into your mouth.

After fifteen minutes had passed, you looked at your watch and sighed. You had another meeting that would probably be ridiculously long for no reason.

“I’m sorry sweetheart, I have to get going. I have a meeting in five.”

You moved to get up, but Natasha refused to move off of your lap. You raised an eyebrow at her, the redhead giving you a stern look.

“Take the day off.” You shook your head in protest. You couldn’t take a day off, not now at least.

“Honey, you know I would if I could, bu-“ Natasha immediately cut you off, pressing her lips against yours before pulling back quickly.

“You can though. You’ve been working more than necessary! Please, it’s not even a full day off, it’s half a day.”

Natasha gave you the best puppy dog eyes and pout that she could, knowing how it affected you. Of course, she ended up winning.

“Fine, fine.” You muttered out, leaning forward and pressing a button on your desk-side phone, paging Megan, who sat just outside your office.

“Yes, Ms. L/N?” Your assistant’s spritely voice rang through the phone.

“Megan, could you please clear the rest of my day? I’m taking the day off.” You heard some shuffling on the other end of the phone before the woman replied.

“Okay, your schedule has been cleared and your meetings have been rescheduled to tomorrow.”

Natasha, who could faintly hear the other end of the conversation, smiled triumphantly and placed a soft kiss on the side of your neck.

“Thank you.” And with that, you hung up and returned your attention to the beaming redhead in your lap.

“You never play fair.” You mumbled against her cheek as you placed a gentle kiss against her skin.

“All is fair in love and war, moya lyubov (my love).” You rolled your eyes at the Russian while holding back a smile.

She got out of your hold and stood up, grabbing both of your hands and forcefully pulling you to your feet.

“Let’s go! I know a few things we could do today.” Natasha spoke seductively and sent you a little wink before grabbing the trash on your desk and throwing it away in the small trash can you had under the table.

You watched with a wide smile as she waltzed toward the door, making sure to sway her hips a little more, exaggerating the movement. There was an extra spring in her step that caused her red locks to bounce with each movement.

She turned her head around when her hand was on the doorknob, smirking at you.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Are you coming or not?”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I have a feeling I will be soon.”

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

4 hours later

You laid in bed with Natasha by your side, her head resting on your shoulder with an arm around your torso.

After hours of love-making, you guys had finally gotten to relax. You both just stayed there in each other’s arms, appreciating the moment.

“Honey?” Natasha spoke, breaking the silence.

You tilted your head to look down at her, the redhead already staring up at you as you hummed.

“Have you ever thought about what you want your future to look like?”

This wasn’t the first time you guys have discussed the future. You’d both mention small tidbits of your aspirations and goals, but never went too far into the details of it all.

“Well, first starters, you’re definitely there.” Natasha smiled up at you with bright eyes. It absolutely warmed your heart to see her so full of joy.

“Really?” You nodded your head and kissed her forehead, the redhead briefly shutting her eyes as your soft lips met her skin.

“Really.” You pulled back, brushing your nose against hers. The redhead placed a hand on your cheek, as connected your foreheads.

“Well, I see you in mine too. Maybe we would end up leaving this penthouse and buy an actual home together.”

You nodded with a wide smile. The thought of buying a property with the woman you adored had you giddy.

“Yeah, definitely. Then maybe we could have little rascals of our own running around. We could find a surrogate or maybe even adopt if you’d want to.”

Natasha felt like she was going to melt into a puddle of love. The thought of having children to raise with you filled her with more joy than ever.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I’d love that.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

The moment was cut off when a loud yawn tore through your body, promoting a little giggle from your girlfriend.

She cuddled closer to you, her arm tightening around your body with a smile on her face.

“Let’s get some rest.” Natasha’s words were slightly slurred, the exhaustion of your previous activities hitting her.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Yeah, so we can have energy for a round two.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Yeah right, more like round ten.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Go big or go home!”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Go to sleep, idiot.”

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

5 days later

It was a Saturday night and Natasha had practically forced you to not go into work.

Usually, you would go into the office on Saturdays, despite having the day off, to get some extra work out of the way, but your girlfriend was extremely persistent.

So now, here you two were, getting ready to go out for a date night. You had to admit that this was a good idea.

You couldn’t remember the last time you and Nat had gone out on a date; it was a rarity with how busy you both would be majority of the time.

You walked out of the bathroom after brushing out your hair, your heart racing at the sight of your girlfriend clad in a simple black body-con dress that hugged her curves in all the right places paired with a cute, black blazer.

She straightened her hair and did her makeup just the way you liked it.

You stalked over to the woman who stood in front of the full-body length mirror, wrapping your arms around her waist from behind and placing a soft kiss onto her cheek.

“You look gorgeous, baby. I’m so lucky.” Your eyes raked over her figure through the reflection of the mirror before meeting her green ones.

“Thank you, but I’m the lucky one. I swear, if we didn’t have reservations, I’d rip your clothes off and take you right here.”

Natasha’s voice came out husky when you kissed the side of her neck. You sucked on her skin lightly and went to leave a mark, but the Russian turned around in your embrace.

“No marks, not until after dinner at least.” You let out a small whine, pulling her front against yours tightly.

“Oh come on! It’s not like we haven’t ditched our reservations for dinner before. I miss you.”

You tried to go for her neck again, but she flicked your forehead. You stared at her with a look that screamed ‘what the fuck was that for?’

“Don’t give me that look. I’ve been looking forward to having a date night for months. We aren’t missing this. Let’s go.”

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

Two hours later

Natasha had taken you to one of the best restaurants in New York. You weren’t one for fancy places, you were more of a ‘let’s order takeout and watch tv’ kind of gal, but Natasha absolutely loved luxurious dining experiences.

When you both arrived, the waited immediately escorted you both to the most private table in the house.

The table was set with candles and rose petals were spread across the tablecloth. You were blown away, seeing as the table overlooked the city.

Natasha pulled your seat back for you, placing a soft kiss on her cheek as you sat down. You watched as she rounded the table and sat in the chair across from you.

Her skin was golden as the candlelight brightened up her face, accentuating her green eyes beautifully. She had a cheeky smile on her face and wiggled her eyebrows at you before looking at the menu.

Of course, the redhead ordered the best wine the restaurant had to offer, immediately asking for a bottle of the alcohol.

You two talked about anything and everything over the course of the dinner. You had to admit, this was probably one of the best dates you guys had ever been on, besides your first one, at least.

As you both finished off your meals and were given the check, you noticed that Natasha couldn’t seem to sit still.

She was tapping her fingers against the table anxiously as she gnawed on her bottom lip. You placed your hand on top of hers, stopping the insistent movement.

“Is everything okay, baby?” You asked in concern. It was really unlike Natasha to be nervous, especially during date night.

She was usually relaxed and content whenever you both had time to spend out together.

The redhead sent you a reassuring smile and flipped her hand over, intertwining your fingers before bringing your conjoined hands up to her lips, kissing the back of your hand.

“Never better, hon. Come on, there’s somewhere I want to take you.”

Natasha placed her credit card into the bill holder and waved down a waiter and shortly after, you both walked out into the cool New York air, hand-in-hand.

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

Your eyes lit up when you noticed where your next destination was; Central Park.

You had always loved the park. There was something so beautiful about the scenery and the usual liveliness of the area that brought you so much peace and comfort.

Natasha led you towards a pond that was located in the heart of the park and you immediately recognized which one it was.

The redhead stopped in her tracks on top of the tiny bridge that hovered over the pond.

“Do you remember this spot?” She asked you as she turned around to face you, hand still linked with yours.

“How could I forget? You took me here on our very first date to feed the ducks, which completely backfired.” You let out a laugh at the memory, Natasha’s cheeks turning red.

“I wouldn’t say it backfired…” The redhead mumbled shyly which only made you laugh harder.

“Honey, you ended up getting attacked by pigeons because you were holding the bread. You walked me home covered in bird shit and your clothes were absolutely torn apart.”

You were practically crying from your laughter and you felt Natasha’s hand heating up in yours.

“It wasn’t funny! I really liked that outfit.” Natasha pouted as your laughter died down.

You placed a kiss onto her pouty lips, her frown quickly replaced with a bright smile.

“Anyway, I took you here because this is where our first date was which obviously resulted in us dating.”

You nodded your head at her words, deciding to remain silent when you noticed she had more to add.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“And, well… this is where I want our last date, as girlfriends, to be.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

You felt your heart sink at her words. Was she breaking up with you right now? It didn’t make any sense! She didn’t ever show any indication that she was unhappy or wanted to leave you.

However, before you could completely break down, Natasha let out a shaky breath, and it was then that you noticed how shaky her hands were.

“Y/N, All my life, I never thought that I’d find love. After all of the things that the Red Room had taught me and forced me to do, I never believed that love was in the cards for me, but then I met you, and everything changed.”

You stared at Natasha curiously. This definitely didn’t sound like a breakup. So what was she going on about?

“I never ever thought that one day, I’d find someone that I’d want to spend the rest of my life with. I never thought that I’d ever want to buy a house and build a family with another person, but god, I’m so fucking happy that I was wrong.”

Your eyes watered when the gravity of the situation finally sunk in. Your thoughts were confirmed as Natasha let go of your hand and slowly bent down on one knee in front of you, reaching her hand into her blazer pocket, revealing the small velvet red box that had been tucked away in the material.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Baby, these last five years have been the best years I’ve ever had, and it was all because of you.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Your hands flew up to your mouth as a gasp escaped your lips. There were tears in your eyes as she revealed a gorgeous engagement ring to you.

“Y/N, I want you, every day, for the rest of my life. Will you make me the happiest woman in the world and marry me?”

Natasha’s voice was unstable as she tried to hold back her emotions, but that went out the window when you frantically nodded your head in agreement.

“Yes!” You whispered out in shock. Natasha looked up at you with a wide smile.

“Yeah?” The redhead asked for confirmation and you let out a small chuckle.

“Yes, of course, I’ll marry you! Is that even a question?” Natasha grabbed your left hand shakily and slid the ring onto your finger.

You were both crying at this point. You didn’t care that you were both stood in the freezing cold, in the middle of Central Park.

All that mattered was that this was going to be the beginning of the rest of your life with the woman you loved.

Suddenly, Natasha stood up and picked you up by the waist, twirling you both around.

Honestly, you were surprised she didn’t stumble, considering the fact that she was wearing such high heels. Luckily for you though, she didn’t fall.

You were both laughing like maniacs when she finally stopped spinning. You were like two teenagers in love without a care in the world.

You leaned down, still in her arms, and kissed her passionately.

You could feel all the love and adoration she had for you through the kiss and you prayed to God that she could feel just how much you felt for her too.

When Natasha disconnected the kiss, she placed you gently onto the floor, your arms immediately going around her neck, hers securing themselves around your waist.

“We’re getting married?” She asked in disbelief. Natasha genuinely couldn’t believe that you said yes, even if you never gave her any indication that you would say no.

“We’re getting married.” You reassured her, kissing the tip of her nose, practically melting as her nose scrunched up adorably.

This definitely wasn’t what you expected the night to be like, but you wouldn’t change any detail about it for the world.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

You were going to be Y/N L/N-Romanoff.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

And that was a name you were going to carry around proudly.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤ

───────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────────

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[plathfiles]

Dangerous Mission

[Andrew Garfield Peter Parker x reader]

You didn’t know how you were going to do it but you needed to get an interview with the one and only Spider-Man. You were a journalist for the New York Times and your boss assigned you to write the first article at the newspaper about Spider-Man.

You knew that one of the newspaper’s photographers, Peter Parker, was the one to take the first clear photo of the super hero. So he was your first lead.

“Peter!” You exclaimed, entering the dark room. He jumped, not expecting to see you. “Hey, Y/n. What’s up?” He asked, turning to you.

“You know Spider-Man right?” You asked, curiously. Peter looked at little nervous, then composing himself. “Uh...I just take his picture, though,” he said. You nodded, “Well I need an interview with him, the next time you photograph him will you tell him I need to talk to him,” you said.

It was the best way you thought of to get that interview. Peter smiled at you, “Yeah...I’ll see if I can catch him,” he replied. You smiled back, “Thanks,” you said, then turning around and walking back into the news room.

Later that night on Peter’s rounds through the city, he stopped at the balcony of your apartment. He was dressed as Spider-Man (of course) and was a little nervous about the interview. He knew how smart you were and he didn’t want you finding out who he really was.

You were sitting down to watch television, when you saw Spider-Man waiting on you balcony. You opened the sliding glass door, stepping out into the cold night air. “Peter sent you?” You asked. Spider-Man turned around to face you, smiling through his mask.

“Yes! Uh...yes...” he said in his usual voice then making it lower. You giggled at his actions, causing Peter’s stomach to fill with butterflies. If it was anyone else, he wouldn’t have done the interview but it was you and he really liked you.

“I wasn’t really expecting you at this hour and I know this will be my only chance, so let me get my recorder and note book,” you said, stepping back into your apartment. Spider-Man nodded, watching as you walked away.

“Be cool, Peter,” he said to himself.

“You ready?” You asked, he nodded in response. “Okay,” you replied, pressing play on your recorder.

“So you’ve gained a lot of popularity but also a lot of hate over the last two years, how do you feel about that?” You asked, looking down at your notepad and then looking up.

“I think I help the city. I like to protect innocent people from criminals. I do feel pretty bad about the damage, but other than that, I’m thankful to have positive...feedback,” he said, still trying to cover his voice with a lower tone.

You nodded, making some notes. “Your identity is clearly a secret, are there people out there who know who you really are?” You asked.

Spider-Man thought about losing Gwen and then he thought about Harry Osborn, who seemed to be a threat every so often. He rubbed the back of his neck, “There have been in the past, but it’s hurt the people I care about so not anymore,” he replied, this time the fake low voice fading away.

You sympathized with him, wondering who he had lost in the past. “I’m sorry about that,” you said. There was a moment of silence and you looked at the mask figure, he seemed so familiar to you. “What about your love life, is there special girl or guy?” You asked.

You felt uncomfortable asking the question but it was one of the questions the newspaper wanted answered. “Sorry, it’s one of the questions on the paper,” you said after.

Spider-Man smiled through his mask, you could tell, “No, no it’s fine. No, there isn’t anyone special like that in my life,” he replied.

The interview went on and eventually he answered all of your questions. “Thank you,” you said, turning and going back into your apartment. “No problem, Miss,” he replied. When he said that the voice sounded so familiar and it was like you knew him from somewhere.

That night you weren’t able to sleep and stayed up on your computer. Not only did you write and finish the article but your deep dived into Spider-Man’s past.

Headline:

“GWEN STACY DIES AT 19, COMPILATIONS WITH SPIDER-MAN AND HARRY OSBORN”

You then scrolled to the Midtown High School directory and pictures of the Midtown Graduating Class from two years ago. You saw the one and only Peter Parker sitting next to Gwen Stacy in a photo from prom. The two looked happy, really and genuinely in love.

That was when your realized Peter Parker was Spider-Man.

It all made sense, he would be able to take pictures of himself. You asked Peter about Spider-Man and then he shows up. The next day at work you went to the dark room, only to find one of the interns instead of Peter.

He wasn’t at work, so you looked at the news to see if any crime was happening in the city. You left the office, leaving your article at your bosses desk. “I’m taking an early lunch,” you said, then walking out to the street.

Walking you saw Spider-Man swinging through the buildings of New York. He had successfully captured the bank robbers, then swinging away from the police. You followed in his direction and to your luck he landed in an alleyway.

Hiding behind a trash can you saw Spider-Man take of his mask, revealing the shy photographer you worked with. You smiled as you knew it was him and a warm feeling filled your stomach. He then swung away and you headed back to the office.

When you returned to the newspaper office, you went to the dark room. Peter was there and you greeted him, “Hey,” you said, casually. “Hi,” he said, putting down a photo he had just developed. “So Spider-Man came to see me last night and I wanted to thank you for talking to him,” you said.

Peter got nervous and you thought it was adorable. “Yeah, um he wanted to help you,” he replied. You didn’t know if you should tell him that you knew he was Spider-Man or not. He was one of your best friends and you always felt that he liked you, just as you liked him.

“Peter?” You asked. He looked at you and he got lost in your eyes.

“Yes?” He asked. “How do you feel about Spider-Man saving the city?” You asked. “Uh he protects innocent people from criminals. He’s helpful,” he replied, a little confused why you had asked him that.

“Thanks for the...feedback,” you said, smiling and then turning away to the door. Peter then knew that you knew and webbed you to him in a moment of impulse.

You looked up at him and butterflies filled your stomach at how close he was to you. “You know,” he said under his breath. “If I didn’t before, I do now,” you replied. He let out a breath of playfully disbelief.

“It’s dangerous for you to know,” he said. “I don’t care,” you replied, simply. The chemistry between the two of you was unbearable as you then both leaned into kiss the other.

[ilikefandoms]

Love Bites - Robby Keene

Request- You could write about Robby, where after a tiring day of training at both dojos (the reader is a part of Cobra), they decide to spend the night snuggling and watching some movies, but apparently Robby can't keep his hands behind himself...nor the lips, and ends up giving the reader many love bites. You can also make other students question about the marks on your neck the next day (they know about your relationship, but they don't support you very much) and she's is super calm about it, but Sensei ends up listening and getting a little embarrassed hahaha.

Name/Pronouns used- no name, none

A/N- Creds to my friend Maddy ( @bi-myselfff​ ) for helping me with this

Warnings- Making out- it gets a bit heated, hickeys, suggestive talk,  the tiniest mention of bad mental health

Rating- PG-13

Word Count- 1238

Robby had just messaged you, saying to come over to his place. Apparently he’d had a hard day. Well, that would make two of you. Sensei Lawrence had worked you all to your limit in preparation for the All-Valley Tournament, and according to Robby, Mr Larusso had done the same.

You had been dating Robby for a year. You had been there for him with his family issues, and he was there for you when your mental health got bad. You were each other’s safe haven. 

***********

“Robby, I’m here!” You called as you opened the door. As you looked around the room, you were met with the sight of Robby standing in front of what looked like a pillow fort.

“I thought that maybe we could order a pizza, and have a movie night?” Robby asked, with a small smile.

“Of course we can,” You smiled, walking over to give him a kiss, “But first, can I use your shower? I need it after today,”  

“Hard day too?”

“Oh, you have no idea. Sensei worked us to our limit. I swear it was...” You trailed off, seeing Robby break eye contact, “Sorry, I know that you don’t like it when I bring him up,” You apologised.

“It’s okay, you don’t need to apologise. It’s just still hard to hear about him, after everything that’s happened with us, y’know?” He said, looking back at you.

“I know,” You smiled at him, “Anyways, I smell, so I’m going to go shower. You still have some of my clothes right?” You asked.

“Yeah, they’re in the top draw of my dresser,” Robby answered, “Hey, do you want me to order the pizza while your in there?”

“Yes please!” 

“Do you want our usual?”

“Um...yeah. Thank you!” You thanked him, before heading off to the bathroom.

***********

You walked out, fresh clothes on, to Robby, who was waiting for you. “The pizza will be a few more minutes,” he said, “So we have time to pick out some movies. What do you want to watch?”

“Harry Potter marathon?” You said, with a smile.

“You know it,” Robby returned the smile. The doorbell rang, Robby answered, and payed the pizza guy. “Ok, you still need to see the inside of the fort,” Robby said.

He lead you in, and you looked around. Fairy Lights were strung up around the top, pillows and blankets lines the floor, and Robby’s laptop was set up to play the first movie.

“Robby, you did all of this?” 

“Yeah,” he smiled, “Do you like it?”

“Are you kidding?” You grinned, “I love it!” You kissed him, “Thank you,”

“Of course. Now, lets eat our pizza, and watch some Harry Potter.”

*********** 

You were cuddled up in a blanket in Robby’s arms. Your pizza was long gone, and you were part way through The Prisoner of Azkaban.

Robby, decided to get a little handsy, running his hands up and down your sides, his fingers grazing the bare skin where your shirt had risen up. He started kissing your jaw.

“What are you doing?” you asked, shifting to look in his eyes.

“Showing you I love you,” Robby said, before connecting your lips again.

His lips demanded entrance to your mouth, you parted your lips, letting his tongue crash into yours. The kiss gets more intense and passion but you don’t feel scared or unsafe in his arms, you feel right at home.

Robby’s lips trailed down, sucking hard. You could feel his teeth nibbling, and biting on your sensitive neck, leaving sweet, tender love bites.

Needless to say your movie was long forgotten.

***********

Robby felt you stir in his arms, kissing your head, then whispering in your ear, “Wake up baby,” you opened your eyes, immediately being met with the warm gaze of Robby’s green eyes.

“Were you watching me sleep?” You asked, with a teasing smile.

“You just looked cute,” he smiled.

“Last night was fun,” you said, kissing his cheek.

“Yeah, it was, " Robby said, tightening his embrace around you, “I don’t want to let you go,” he mumbled into the crook of your neck.

“Your gonna have to babe. We both have training again today,” you noted, pulling away from his arms, and going to get up.

“Nooo, baby don’t leave me,” Robby whined, reaching over to you.

“Robby, no, come on, we’ve got to get dressed,” you said, and Robby pouted. 

“Fine I’ll get dressed, but I want kisses after,” he reasoned.

“Ok, but only because I love you,” You said, before walking to the bathroom to get dressed.

You were just about to put a clean top on, when you caught sight of yourself in the mirror. Your neck and upper chest was covered in hickeys. “Robby! Get in here!”

“Yeah,” Robby said as he opened the door, “Oh...”

“Yeah, ‘oh’ indeed,”

“I...love you?” Robby tried, giving you a sheepish smile.

“I love you too,” you said, “Ok, get outta here and get dressed, before we’re late,”

You didn’t really care about the love bites that littered your upper body. You mainly brought them up to tease Robby. Any anyway, your T-shirt and your Gi would cover most of them on your chest.

“Ready to go?” You asked.

“Yeah, I’ll see you later Babe,” Robby answered, kissing you, “And, sorry about the.. y’know,”

“It’s ok. I’ll see you tonight?” 

“Of course. I’ll call you later, ok?” he said.

“Ok. Bye, I love you” you smiled.

“I love you too,” he smiled back.

*********** 

You arrived to the dojo, greeting everyone, and sitting down on the mat. “Woah, what are those,” Miguel pointed at your neck.

“Looks like Y/N got some last night,” Hawk said, taking a closer inspection of the marks.

“I mean, I don’t like how your affiliating with the enemy...” Aisha started, and you rolled your eyes, “...but, damn, respect,”

“I gotta say, I didn’t know you or Keene had it in you,” Hawk stated, with an impressed look.

“Well, now you know,” you smirked, “It was pretty...interesting shall we say,” 

“Quiet!” Sensei Lawrence shouted. “Everybody fall in,” You took your place on the mat. “Mr. Diaz, warm them up”

The class seemed to go pretty quick. You were all working on perfecting roundhouses, and how to use them on a moving target. You had noticed that Sensei didn’t make eye contact with you at all, though. You decided to talk to him, as you’d finished.

“Hey, Sensei,” you said, poking your head round the door of his office, and seeing him drinking a Coors.

“Hey Y/L/N, what’s the problem?”

“Not really a problem. It’s just that...I noticed that you didn’t really make eye contact when you were talking to me today, and I wondered if it was something I maybe did?” You said, tentatively.

“No, it’s not really something that you did. More who you uh...did,” He said, still refusing to make eye contact with you.

“Oh,”

“Yeah, I um heard you talking to Hawk, Aisha and, Miguel. Maybe in future, make sure that I’m not around when you talk about that subject,” He said, flushing slightly.

“Yes Sensei,” You said, trying not to laugh, “Goodbye,”

“Bye,”

You chuckled to yourself after you left. That was awkward to say the least. However, you did learn your lesson, and made a mental note not to talk about it again, when it was a possibility that Sensei could overhear your conversation.

@blackoutgirx

[ren-therose]

Mornings Like These

Dad!Peter Parker X Mom!Reader

Summary: Peter and you are parents, raising your kids out of your home and the rebuilt Avengers Headquarters. Needless to say, your kids came with some...unique quirks.

WC: 1.3k words

Warning: Minor FATWS spoiler, Mentions sex, but mostly just cute kids and fluffy parent content

A/N: So, I am a nanny, if you can't tell by my depth of detail. The family I currently am working for has a baby and a elementary kid, and they are both SUPER CRAZY. So much energy, so much love, and a little mischief. The baby is crazy strong and a busy bee, while the brother is non-stop moving. I love my kids so much, and they were my inspiration for this.

Big, chocolate eyes were looking up as you, while you wiggle your fingers. Two small hands reached out to your index fingers, gripping on tightly as you smiled down at the baby laying below you. He was wearing a red Spider-man onesie, no doubt one of many your team had gifted you. You probably had at least 12 Spider-man related onesies, but you didn't mind. Benji held quite a resemblance to his father. His hair was a little lighter, but his curls were quite prominent on the back of his head. His eyes, so big and warm, reminded you so much of your husbands, the way his lashes would flutter when he sleeps.

But the thing that he really resembled was how strong this baby was. A lot of people don't realize how strong babies are, ultimately underestimating them. You were right not underestimate his strength, except he is no ordinary baby. As he laid on his changing table, gripping your finger, the two of you faced off before the daily struggle you would both face.

It started with poking him all over, getting him to relax. He loved it when you played with his feet, nibbling all over his toes and up to his chucky thighs. You would blow on his tummy, making him laugh and grab your hair. When you were loose from his grip, you would then carefully unsnap his onesie, trying to be discreet with your actual intention. He continued to wiggle his way out, which ultimately helped in your favor. Now was the difficult, free of his restraints, he started rolling around, not unlike an alligator, as he attempted to make his escape. When you turned to grab a new diaper, he made his move, practically launching himself off the table. Quick reflexes wasn't your superpower, in fact, you didn't even have one. Your dad thought it was funny calling himself a mechanic, but you soon inherited his title. But when you became a parent, some type of spider-sense developed in you too, and you became even more inept with catching babies and hurtling objects.

Speaking of spidey-senses, Peter suddenly appeared in the doorway, his own brown curls slightly matted to his face, as though he had just been running.

"Did you catch him?" he panted, looking frantically for the baby. You turned around, revealing that the baby was holding onto your arm like a sloth. He was smiling like he had just succeeded in a heist, which in a way, he did- he stole our hearts (cheesy but true). Peter laughed as he walked over to the dangling baby, grabbing him and the diaper from your hands. "I am so sorry, I was trying to get the spider monkey off the walls and ready for daycare." He glanced back at you to see your response. You quirked your brow up, leaning your head to the side. "Dressed?"

Peter turned back to Benji, pulling his onesie back on the happy baby and holding him out to you. "No, but I got this one changed!"

You groaned, wishing that Peter wouldn't always be so sweet on the kids, but you knew that even you weren't immune from their love and charm.

"Toni! Get your butt in here NOW!" You yelled, marching down the hall to the other room. As you were walking, you felt someone drop behind you. Turning around, you saw your oldest smiling at you with a toothless grin. "Hi mommy."

"Girl, if you don't get into your clothes now, we are going to have a problem," you say cooly, ruffling your daughters hair as she ran past into her room.

"Daddy said that I could go with him to the tech lab today!" Toni beamed, but the look you had on your face was not one of excitement. Turning around, you caught Peter trying to sneak by you with the baby, but you had already caught up to him.

"What did you tell Toni about going to the tech lab?" you hissed. Peter jokingly covered the babies ears, whispering back "I couldn't think of anything else! She wouldn't get down."

You scooped Benji from his arms, strumming your finger back and forth across his tummy, eliciting a laugh from the baby. Kissing his chubby cheeks, you sighed as you used your other hand to pull Peter in by the collar of his shirt.

"You are gonna fix this problem, because I checked our schedule and we will have about an hour of free time at work, but if you take her to the tech lab, she won't leave us alone," you defended, leaning into his lips. His hand met your back as he kissed you with a little more force than usual. Times of passion and heated kisses grew slim, but were a special task when given the chance.

"Fine. But only because office sex sounds great," he grumbles against your ear, before smacking your ass and walking away. You yelp as you turn watch him enter Toni's room, hearing her squeal as he picks her up and starts tickling her.

"That wasn't the offer!" you call out, hearing him playfully roar at Toni.

You roll your eyes, happy that he was so good with handling both of the kids. You kissed benji once more on his squishy cheeks, going into the kitchen, thinking about the rest of your day.

Baby on your hip, you started brewing coffee and making everyone's breakfast. Everyone had a pretty set breakfast when it came to their weekday routine. You would make coffee and bagels for you and Peter while the baby stayed on your hip. As the bagels toasted, you would get out the cereal and milk for Toni to pour herself. Then you would strap the baby in their high chair with a bottle of milk, while you did up the bagels. Setting the bagels down on the counter, you would go back to the coffee maker, pouring sugar and creamer in mugs with the coffee (Peter never grew out of his love for sweet coffee). By the time the coffee hit the counter where three chairs were placed, set for two adults and one kid, they were filled by you, your husband and your daughter. You on the edge with the baby, feeding him squeeze pouches, soft bars and yogurt (he was a hungry baby), while you leaned over to read Peters latest file. As your head rested on his arm, he kisses the top of your head before taking a sip of the coffee you made. When you looked over at Toni, she was coloring a Captain America picture, while eating her cereal.

"Baby, who is that for?"

"It's for Uncle Sam! Look, I made him brown!"

You almost spit out your coffee, and Peter choked on his bagel. You both turned to look at the coloring page and stifled a laugh. It was indeed Captain America, but it was of Steve, not Sam. Well, it would have been of Steve if she hadn't colored him with a brown crayon.

You went over and ruffled her again, the curls frizzing out a little more. Plopping a kiss on her forehead while you squished her face, you smiled at her art.

"You know, that might actually be Uncle Steve."

"You know, the one I defeated when I met your mom for the first time," Peter interjected. You shot him a warning look as he stuck his tongue out at you. You looked through the book, trying to find Sam as Captain America, he was towards the back of the book, probably because of his rebranding. It had only been a decade or so that he was Cap, while Steve was Cap for 80 years or something.

Pointing to the page, you said "Do you want to color this one for him too?"

Toni nodded eagerly as she began drawing again. As you walked back over to your seat, you stopped behind Peter and wrapped your arms around his chest. He rested his head against your chest as your hair fell around his face.

"We are so showing Sam when we get to work," Peter snickered.

"Bucky might pee himself," you laugh.