#he yelled at me for 'not moving quick enough' to be ready for college
Text
I am not "holding a grudge", I'm committing to the bit, get it right
#yes this is about me refusing to talk to my brother until he apologises for throwing water on me#he yelled at me for 'not moving quick enough' to be ready for college#which I was ready for#then when I lightly hit his arm bc wtf don't yell at me I'm older than u#he just throws the whole glass of water he was holding all over me and my college bag#which had my laptop in + I was holding my phone#and then storms out the house#meanwhile I'm crying bc I had covered in water when I was rushing to get to college on time#legit bawling my eyes out bc my laptop and my new phone could be damaged#so I had to go get changed which made me late#so I'm not talking to him until he apologises#lol
0 notes
Text
Jealous?
Thanks so much to the amazing @rogueddie for letting me write this!!!! Hope it lives to standards :)
.
Eddie had a problem.
A Steve Harrington sized problem.
Said problem was standing behind the counter at Family Video while the woman in front of him blatantly flirted with him.
It wasn’t the woman Eddie was worried about— she had at least five years of age on Steve, so maybe there was cause for concern— but Steve wasn’t paying her the time of day.
Instead, he was glancing over the woman’s shoulder at Eddie, who lurked in the aisles, and kept making faces and blabbling his mouth mockingly whenever she wasn’t paying attention.
Eddie was desperately holding back snickers and snorts. He couldn’t help but let a giggle escape when Steve moved his hand in a “blabbing” motion when she said something about her ex-husband (HUSBAND) again. The woman whipped around and glared at Eddie. Eddie gave her a finger waggle wave he realized belatedly was the same one Steve does.
Steve himself was almost beet red in the face with his effort to hold in his laugh. Eddie was amazed at how long he’d lasted.
The moment the door closed behind her Steve put his face in his arms on the counter and full on cackled. Eddie was quick to join.
They were still laughing when Robin came back from the bathroom.
“Is she gone?” she asked, looking oddly between the two of them.
Steve nodded, not having enough breath to get words out. Robin sighed a dramatic breath of relief.
“Oh thank God. Cause she looked one second away from bringing up some stupid shit like her failed marriage—“
That sent Steve and Eddie into another spiral of laughs.
“There’s no way she actually did.” Robin deadpanned.
Eddie nodded vigorously. “She fucking did!”
“Four times! As if bringing up how she was newly-single would make me want her. Did she look in a mirror before leaving? She’s closer to my dads age.”
Eddie snorted, trying to get his laughter under control enough to say “Even man-whore Richard Harrington wouldn’t go within a 20 foot radius of her.”
Steve didn’t waste a second before racking on: “Doesn’t need to get too close with how far back that hairline stretches.”
Robin and Eddie laughed themselves to tears.
And that was how it went.
A woman would come into the video store, shoot their shot with Steve, and Steve would laugh about it with Robin and Eddie later.
And it was fun. Eddie found it fun. Cause he knew Steve would always shoot the girls down, however nice or rudely he has to be about it.
Until—
Until.
It was a Friday, and as per usual on Fridays, Eddie was at Steve’s. Of course, it wasn’t just him— Robin, Nancy, Jonathan and Argyle were there as well.
They’d been hanging out whenever they all could before Nancy and Jonathan went to college and Argyle back to Cali. Hence the Friday night hang outs.
Tonight was no different, except for one thing.
“So explain to me once again why we have to drive all the way out to Indy for this?” Jonathan complained.
Nancy sighed and leant into him. “Cause there aren’t any good bars in Hawkins. And everywhere in Hawkins knows that almost none of us are of legal age.”
Jonathan grumbled but conceded, Wheeler had a point.
“Besides,” added Robin. “It’d be nice to finally get the hell out and see some new people.”
“Amen.” Agreed Eddie and Argyle at the same time. They both chuckled.
“Yeah well, I’d like to go soon before my social battery drains itself dead.” Remarked Jonathan, throwing an arm around his girlfriend’s shoulders.
“We’d have left already if SOMEBODY DIDN’T HAVE TO SPEND HALF AN HOUR PRIMPING HIMSELF!” Yelled Robin towards the stairs.
Steve had been MIA since Eddie got there at least 20 minutes ago. According to Robin he was still getting ready.
“PUT A LID ON IT BIRD-FOR-BRAINS, IM COMING!” Was the reply she got from the top of the stairs, where Steve was now coming from.
Nancy and Argyle snorted at the insult, but Eddie’s mind was rather taken up by the cut-off jean shorts Steve wore that showed more of his thighs than Eddie thought necessary for anyone’s functioning brain. He was also wearing what looked like the softest sweater he owned; a dark purple one that seriously brought out the green in his eyes.
Nancy whistled, Robin clapped. Argyle grinned at Steve and said
“Hey man! That’s the sweater I got you!”
Steve grinned right back and nodded. “Uh huh! Dude it’s like— SO fucking comfy you don’t even understand.”
The sweater was a little big on Steve, hanging over his thumbs a bit in the sleeves and landing just below the waistline of his shorts. If Eddie wasn’t so focused on the many moles on his thighs that were on display, the fact that Argyle had gotten Steve a sweater may have rubbed him the wrong way.
As it stood, Steve looked good.
He looked stunning, actually, in his glasses and his hair slightly ruffled in a delicate manner and his eyes wide and bright and—
“Eddie!”
He blinked and Steve was standing in front of him, no one else in the room.
“Huh?”
Steve grinned giddily and laughed at him. “C’mon dude, you’re my ride up, remember?”
Oh yeah. They’d split everyone between his and Argyles vans.
“Isn’t Buckley with us?” Eddie asked as he grabbed his keys and headed out the door.
“Yeah, but I think she’s sticking with Jon and them on the way up.”
Eddie nodded and averted his gaze once more. There was a reason he’d skipped gym and avoided the mall.
That reason was glaring at him with all of its dotted moles and freckles and faint scars.
Jesus Christ he needed a cigarette.
The ride up was uneventful, peaceful even. Eddie let Steve have control over the radio, something Steve thought was normal but was downright foreign to anyone else. Eddie usually fought tooth and nail for control over the music but the sight of Steve singing and drumming his legs (holy shit his thighs jiggled—) and jamming out with a bright smile to whatever Tears for Fears or ABBA song he put on was worth it.
He followed behind Argyle and reluctantly sang under his breath with Steve to Head Over Heels.
The club they ended up going to was a little deeper into the city than they’d initially thought, and was slightly crowded when they got in.
Eddie was immediately hit with the smell of sweat and booze but not in an entirely bad way. In a way that told him that people here had fun.
It was bright and loud and the air tasted like fries (though Eddie might just be hungry). They took an empty table booth in a corner in the back.
After dropping their jackets off and everyone picking a seat, Steve got up to get everyone drinks.
“You want me to come with?” Eddie asked worriedly. It was Steve’s first time in Indy in a while and his first time out of Hawkins since the fall of Vecna. Sue Eddie for being cautious.
But Steve smiled sweetly at him and shook his head. “I’ll be alright, Eds. Be right back.” He knocked his knuckles on Eddie’s head affectionately and walked off. Eddie may have spent a second ogling before snapping his gaze to the table.
“So?”
Eddie looked at Nancy with a raised eyebrow. She raised one right back.
“Soooo…?”
She sighed. “Oh you’re hopeless.”
Jonathan snickered.
“Wha—“
“Are you gonna make a move tonight?” Argyle elaborated.
Eddie shot up real fast. “Make a move? On who, Steve?”
“Yea, on Steve, doofus!” Robin reprimanded.
“There’s no board to make a move on.” Eddie pushed stubbornly. Because it was true. There was nothing there.
Robin groaned and dropped her head to the table.
“Dude, relax your knee. It’s shaking the whole table.” Jonathan tapped Eddie’s leg under the booth.
“Sorry, sorry. He’s been gone a while, right?” Eddie craned his head to look around the bodies of people dancing.
Robin huffed. “Yeah, kinda. But there are six of us, maybe he’s having trouble carrying all the drinks.”
Nancy suddenly kicked his leg under the table, a lot harder than her boyfriend had earlier. Eddie winced.
“Go help him.” Nancy all but demanded.
Eddie was up and away in a second, happy to have an excuse. He faintly heard Nancy and Robin high five behind him.
He weaved through the dancing crowd, bodies jostling him and pushing him forward until he got to the bar and finally spotted Steve and—
And?
Something bubbled low in Eddie’s gut at the man standing in front of Steve. He was taller than both Steve and Eddie, well-built and had a bit of a beard going. He was leaning on the bar next to Steve, sort of caging him in. The scene made Eddie mad for reasons he didn’t give himself time to think about before he inserting himself.
“Steve!”
Both Steve and the asshole’s heads turned to Eddie. Steve’s eyes lit up in recognition and relief while the man’s narrowed in anger at being interrupted.
“You know him, doll?”
Eddie wanted to make the man spit his own teeth out. Nobody else got to call Steve pet names. Just Eddie. It was an Eddie Thing, not an Everybody Thing. Fuck this guy.
“Yeah—“ Steve started.
“Yeah, he does. And yet I don’t think he knows you.”
Eddie stood shoulder to shoulder with Steve, glaring daggers at the douche.
The man scoffed and huffed, walking away and muttering under his breath. Eddie scowled until he could see the guy and his stupid beard. He finally turned to Steve.
Who was absolutely red in the face.
“You alright, sweetheart?” Eddie asked worriedly. “He wasn’t bothering you right? He seemed like a dick, looked like one even before I got up close.”
Steve stared at Eddie wide-eyed with his pretty lips parted. He blinked and spluttered a response.
“U—um, yeah! Yeah, no, I’m— I’m good. I’m alright. I’m great! Yep, great! Uh—“
“Are you sure?” Eddie was concerned, never having heard Steve stumble over a simple sentence so much.
Steve nodded vigorously before turning to the bar snappily. Eddie could still see the red painting his ears.
“Yep! Perfect! Could you help with the drinks? I don’t think I can carry them all, thanks!” And he was off back to the table.
Eddie stared after him for a moment before slowly grabbing the other three drinks and following back through the sea of bodies.
Steve was sat by the time Eddie got back to the booth, whispering heatedly with Robin, Eddie only managing to hear Steve hiss to her “that wouldn’t work!” before noticing his presence and shutting up all together.
Eddie raised an eyebrow but let it slide while he gave Nancy and Jon their drinks. He slid into the booth next to Steve who sat between him and Robin and across from Jonathan.
For the next 10 minutes, they all talked. They talked and laughed and joked and drank. But Steve seemed more in his head than usual.
Eddie was just working up the courage to ask him what was wrong when a guy came up to their table, eyeing Steve. Eddie immediately tensed.
“Hi.”
All six heads turned to the dude who just showed up. But that didn’t deter him much.
“I was just wondering if pretty boy here wanted to dance?” He smirked at Steve, who Eddie felt tense up beside him.
“Um—“ Steve’s voice was kind of shaky, barely. But it was enough (mixed with the anger already brewing in his gut at the NERVE of this guy) for Eddie to finally step in.
“He’s alright.”
Six heads suddenly turned on him.
“Excuse me?” The asshole asked.
“You’re excused.” Eddie waved his hand in a shooing motion.
“Well I hadn’t exactly—“
“And I hadn’t exactly /asked/, now have I? Goodbye.” Eddie didn’t even bother offering a smile to hide the aggression in his tone. His message was clear: Get Lost.
The douche walked away grumbling and conversation soon resumed at the table.
“What was that!?” Jonathan asked incredulously.
Nancy and Argyle were both openly staring at Eddie in bewilderment.
Eddie shifted, but was more focused on the fact that Steve seemed to relax again.
“The dude was being an asshole. Just told him to get lost, not a big deal.”
“He was just asking Steve to dance? I don’t see the problem there.” Robin cut in.
It gave Eddie pause for thinking. She was right; there really was no problem there, so why had he been so upset about the dude asking Steve to dance. God just the thought of it left a bad taste in his mouth.
“It’s fine, Rob. I was just gonna tell him no anyway.”
Eddie looked at Steve then, who was a whole new shade of red.
“Are you alright? You’re all red again.” Eddie worried. Jonathan snorted into his drink and then winced when Steve kicked him under the table. Steve looked at Eddie.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just a bit overwhelmed in the tight space I think. You wanna— uh— you wanna go dance?”
Eddie didn’t waste a second with his answer. “Sure.”
Eddie watched Steve and Robin have a silent conversation with their eyes and expressions before Robin grinned in victory and waved at them eagerly.
“Buh-bye! Have fun!” She sing-songed. Steve shot her a glare.
Eddie led Steve to the dance floor somewhere towards the edge of the crowd where there was less people. They really just stood there talking and sipping on their drinks while everyone around them danced.
“Hey, uh— thanks for telling him to back off. I’ve, I’ve never actually… been flirted with? By a guy, I mean— this is like— a brand new thing. But he and the other dude seemed just really creepy so— uh, thanks.” Steve stumbled through.
Eddie stared at his wide, earnest eyes and wondered how no guy had ever flirted with Steve before tonight. Even if the idea of it ever happening made him want to hurt somebody.
(Even though Eddie knows that guys have flirted with Steve before. Knows that he didn’t just make up those looks Tommy Hagan and Billy Hargrove gave him.)
So Eddie smiled and shook his head. “You’re all good, sweetheart. Just don’t want you running into the wrong guys.”
That pretty blush was back again, making Steve look even more breathtaking under the florescent lights and making his smile twice as bright.
Then they were rudely interrupted.
“Hey, babyboy.” Came an obnoxious call from behind Eddie. The guy was, again, taller that Steve, but this time he was barely taller than Eddie (a/n lemme live in slightly shorter Steve fantasy ok—). Eddie immediately hated him and his entire existence. Who just called people that? Babyboy? Was he serious or delusional?
Eddie watched Steve’s shoulders tense awkwardly while the guy spoke. His anger only grew and grew.
“Alright that’s enough dude, he’s not interested.”
The guy didn’t say anything to Eddie but kept talking to Steve which only served to irk Eddie further.
“I said he’s not interested ass face.” Eddie grabbed the guy’s shoulder. He finally looked at Eddie, seeming bored.
“He hasn’t said anything? Why not let the babydoll decide, huh?” He smirked at Steve. Eddie wanted to puke and scream at the same time. He felt like he was chewing on nails listening to this guy. Babydoll? First babyboy and now BABYDOLL??? Who the fuck was this dude? And more importantly would the possible assault charges be worth it?
“Um— yeah, I’m sorry. I’m not really interested in looking for anybody tonight.” Steve confirmed.
“Oh c’mon, doll face, don’t be like that.”
Oh the assault charges would so be worth it.
“He just said he wasn’t interested so fuck off.” Eddie shoved his shoulder. The dude finally turned to look at Eddie, leveling him with a glare that Eddie happily returned tenfold. If looks could kill the guy would have been fucking obliterated on sight.
“If he wasn’t interested then why’s he dressed like that, huh?”
Jail was looking mighty fine to Eddie.
“I’m right fucking here, asshat.” Steve spoke up. “And Im dressed like this because I look good and I know it. Not for fucks like you who have to beg for scraps to get by. I said I wasn’t interested and you’re just causing more of a headache if anything.”
Eddie grinned at Steve. It was so hot when he got all bitchy.
The asshole scoffed. “Oh so baby’s got a mouth on him.”
Eddie finally snapped, those assault charges no where in mind when he punched the guy in the face.
“Eddie!” Steve yelled, absolutely flabbergasted at the sudden violence.
The guy left after that with a threat of harassment charges. Steve took Eddie outside to the alleyway on the side of the club to get away from the crowd and to better examine his freshly bruised knuckles.
“You didn’t have to punch him.”
“He fucking had it coming.” Eddie spat through clenched teeth. He was still seething. And Steve was prodding at the bruises but that was neither here nor there.
Steve looked at Eddie, still holding his bruised hand. His eyes were wide as always and his cheeks flushed once more. His eyes seemed to search Eddie for something.
“Was it cause he was an ass?”
Eddie scoffed. “Of course! He was an ass and made you uncomfortable and—“
And I wanted to be the one to call you baby.
“And?” Steve prompted.
“And… and I hated how he talked to you.”
Steve looked down at Eddie hand, the blush rising to ears again. Eddie hooked a finger under Steve’s chin with the hand that wasn’t bruised and being held.
“Hey, you alright? You’re getting all quiet again.”
Steve’s eyes flitted back and forth between Eddie’s own before he sighed.
“Eddie.. I can’t— I don’t understand.”
Eddie pouted, confused. “Don’t understand what? There’s not much to it, honey.”
Steve cheeks pinkened again with the endearment. “Not— not that. I get that he was a dick— a massive dick attitude to make up for what he was surely lacking—“
That startled a laugh out of Eddie.
“—but I guess I don’t understand the other times? You were never like this before when anyone else flirted, so what changed tonight?”
And wasn’t that a thought.
What changed?
Well for starters, he wanted to kiss Steve. He wanted to kiss Steve senseless, shove him up against a wall and stick his tongue down his throat until he was breathless an begging for it.
So that’s changed.
But he also wanted to hug Steve and hold him right and call him things like Sweetheart and Honey and Love and Baby (which he already does anyway for the most part). He wanted to take Steve places and show him things. Wanted to give Steve every pretty rock he found and show him every cool leaf he saw.
What changed was that he wanted Steve in every which way Steve would let him have him.
But of course, Eddie didn’t express these aloud.
“Eddie…” Steve stared wide-eyed with his mouth opened in shock, his face a violent shade of red.
Or maybe he did express them aloud.
He’d drank more than he thought.
And then Steve was kissing him. Steve was pulling him in by the hand he was holding and pressing their lips together in a kiss that Eddie would never forget, not matter how much he’d drank that night.
They let go of each others hands, Eddie immediately grabbing Steve’s waist and Steve tangling his hands in Eddie hair.
By the time they’d pulled away to breathe Eddie bad fulfilled his wish of shoving Steve against a wall and sticking his tongue down his throat.
“So you were jealous?” Steve teased, playing with Eddie hair where his arms were still wrapped around his neck.
Eddie grumbled under his breath and kissed Steve to shut him up. Steve hummed and smiled into the kiss.
“Kissing me into going to make me drop it, Munson. You were totally jealous of those guys in there.”
Eddie huffed and stooped lower to kiss at Steve neck, gaining an immediate reaction with Steve’s stuttered breath and sudden silence. Eddie chuckled.
“Oh? I thought kissing you wasn’t going to make you drop it.”
Steve hit his shoulder weakly. “Shut it, asshole— mm!” Eddie bit down lightly on the side of his neck.
Then the door to the alley was opening and Robin was telling them to get their horny asses home before thy got arrested for public indecency.
So they agreed to pick up at home. And the whole ride there was filled with relentless teasing about Eddie’s apparent jealousy towards any guy who so much as looked at Steve oddly.
.
It’s rushed I know but it’s like 2am on a school night 😭 and I’m not upset with the results. Could it be better? Yeah. Could it be worse? Absolutely. It’s not my finest work but oh well 🤷
#stranger things#steve harrington#eddie munson#robin buckley#nancy wheeler#jonathan byers#argyle#that dude needs a last name#spicy six 😍#I kinda love them as a group#steddie#steddie idea#small fic#oneshot#eddies a jealous bastard#steve finds it stupidly hot#robin never lets them live it down#nobody can resist the harrington charm#unfortunately#eddies boy is just very desirable#side jancy#but mainly Steddie
771 notes
·
View notes
Text
You’re so art deco
Chapter two
Description: you are a struggling college student who needs some cash. Your friend suggests a sugar daddy but you wouldn’t do that. Right?
I’m so sorry it took a bit to get up but here’s chapter two! Also sorry abt the 1975 reference I was listening to that song. -A
“WHAT?!” Grace’s jaw dropped as she heard the news. “But I thought you didn’t want a sugar daddy.”
“I was wrong. And I’m sorry.” You heard yet another ping from your laptop.
“Is that him?” Grace looked baffled as you nodded. “What did he say?” As you looked you had seemed to find a mirror selfie. Of Johnny wearing a nice button up shirt and some slacks.
“Goddamn.” You spoke.
“Goddamn is right!” Grace exclaimed. “What do I even do with this information.”
“Please don’t tell anyone I wanna keep this lowkey.” You pleaded with Grace.
“Okay but only because I love you.” Grace started to get ready for bed herself.
“I love you too I’m gonna send him a pic back do I look cute?” You asked as she laughed.
“Yeah, totally.” She smiled as you took the picture. This was probably the happiest she had seen you since you moved in.
“Thank you so much, you’re literally the best!” You were grinning as it sent. “But we should get ready for bed.”
“I know you might be a little wired with this new sugar daddy but I’m ready to go to bed.” Grace laughed.
“Goodnight Gracie.” You pulled the covers up onto your body. “I love you.”
“Night (y/n/n). I love you too.” Grace smiled as you began to shut your eyes and drift off into sleep.
Waking up you checked your computer.
@johnC95: good morning Doll. Hope you have a good day.
@Y/n: good morning Johnny. You too. Luckily I’m off today.
@johnC95: so where do you go to school?
@y/n: UCLA.
@johnC95: oh cool, I’m not that far from there. Would you wanna do like coffee?
@y/n: sure, when would you wanna meet up?
Your heart pounded in your chest. What were you going to wear? How were you going to do your hair? What if he didn’t like you when you guys met up?
@johnC95: I’m kind of booked for the next couple days. Is Saturday okay?
You look at the calendar. Saturday was three days away. You looked to see if you were working as you typed.
@y/n: lemme check my schedule. I should be good though.
As you doubled checked you sighed in relief
“Thank god.” you said to yourself. “I’m off on a Saturday, for once.”
@johnC95: sounds good! I wanna hear your voice again so bad.
@y/n: maybe we can talk later tonight. Btw what’s your number?
@johnC95: oh I’m sorry it’s (xxx)xxx-xxxx.
You type it into your phone putting it under the contact ‘Johnny <3’. As you text the number you feel a strange sensation in you stomach, like it was being tied into knots. Why was it that you were so nervous to text him?
You decide on a quick ‘Hi it’s y/n :).’
‘Hello doll :).’
You sighed as you start to get out of bed.
‘What are you doing today?’
‘I’m not sure I might lounge around my dorm, do some coursework, just try to relax’
‘Fair enough. I really do wanna hear your lovely voice. Or even see that beautiful face (y/n).’
‘Why don’t we talk right now? Even if it isn’t for long.’
‘I’m going to be with my daughter soon and I want to make sure she’s my first priority.’
‘You have a daughter? What’s her name? How old is she?’
‘Her name is Cassie and shes 16.’
‘Okay awesome!’
‘Sorry gtg she’s here!’
You wonder what she was like. You went to your closet pulling out a baby tee that said ‘reading is sexy’ and a pair of low rise jeans. Putting on socks you lace up your black converse. Then putting on music you decided to do your hair and makeup.
“This has to be a little over kill to just go study.” You laughed to yourself as you put on mascara.
“Bitchhhhhh.” Grace yelled as she entered your dorm. “Hot psych guy wasn’t in class today. I wanna cry.”
“I’m sorry dude.” You turned to her with a frown. “Wanna grab coffee with me before I have to go to the library?”
“Sure. The local one though. On campus. It has such better coffee.”
“Obviously, it’s a local coffee shop. They’re always better.” You laughed. “But let’s go.”
You grab your stuff not forgetting your phone and headphones. Grace opened the door back up.
“Nice shirt.” Grace winked as she held the door open.
“Thanks, my friend got it for me.” You winked back. Remembering when you and her got baby tees on the boardwalk. Laughing she led the way to the shop. You held the door open for her as you guys chatted.
“Dude would you love me if I was a worm?” Grace asked, cackling.
“Are you like a talking worm or a regular one?”
“What the fuck?!” She giggled. “A talking worm! It’s so funny, like ‘help (y/n) I got turned into a talking worm!’ That’s so crazy.”
“It’s a hypothetical in a hypothetical!” You chuckled as you guys got up to the counter.
“Iced coffee oatmilk?” grace asked.
“Dude I asked I can’t let you buy it. It’s on me this time.” You tried, knowing she wouldn’t let you.
“No seriously. Dude, I love you and you deserve this.” She smiled. “Two medium iced coffees with oat milk please.”
“Fine you win, but I’m paying next time.”
“Never going to happennnn!” Graced took out her card. “Thank you so much, have a great day.”
You guys sat down and waited for your coffee as you talked about the whole sugar daddy thing.
“I’m nervous to meet him.” You admitted. “Like what if he doesn’t like me?”
“He’s gonna fucking love you!” Grace exclaimed. “Are you kidding me! You’re literally the best!”
“You’re right. I’m being silly.”
“Oh our coffee is ready!” She ran to grab them “I’ll walk you to the library. It’s a sucky walk without a friend.”
“You’re right.” You agreed as you felt your phone buzz.
‘I think can’t wait to hear your voice again.’ You smiled as you type back.
‘That is really sweet. Thank you Johnny.’
‘Cassie is gonna go out with a friend tonight. Should I come up tonight?’
‘Sure.’
“SHIT!” You yelled. “Grace. We need to go back to the dorm.”
“What’s wrong (Y/n)?” she followed you as you took a break neck pace towards your dorm building. “Stop running!”
You only stopped briefly as you texted Johnny.
‘So what were you thinking?’
‘Maybe we do dinner. How’s Italian sound?’
‘Great what time were you thinking?’
‘How abt I pick you up @ 8?’
‘Perfect!’
“WHATS GOING ON?!” Grace yelled out of breath.
“It’s happening tonight.” You stared in awe.
“What?”
“ITS HAPPENING TONIGHT!”
“Oh-then lets go!” You both started running again. As you reached your dorm you both hastily got inside. “What are you thinking about wearing? Where is it? How long until he picks you up? “
“We’re doing Italian, he’s picking me up at eight and I have no fucking clue!”
“I have an idea how about that black and pink floral dress with kitten heels, my viviennes, that heart pendant and pink floral clutch?”
“You are literally a life saver! And how about a y2k claw clip half up-half down look for my hair?!”
“Let’s do this.” You laughed as Grace pulled out the outfit while you hopped into the shower. As you showered you thought about Johnny and that feeling came back. You cursed those damned butterflies as you calmed yourself down.
Making sure that you were properly cleaned you popped on some of the 1975.
“I like my men like I like my coffee, full of soy milk and so sweet, it won’t offend anybody.” You sang as you put your makeup on and danced around your bathroom.
“Dude I love that song!” Grace yelled out as she pulled you out of the bathroom.
“You’re lucky I was done.” You feigned a serious look. Before cracking up.
“I’m gonna help you get ready.” You stepped into the dress as she checked your messages with Johnny.
“He said ‘I can’t wait to see how gorgeous you look when I come pick you up, doll. And you sent me the right building?’’
“Text him back ‘awww Johnny, you’re too sweet. And yes I did.’”
“Okay and sent!” Grace watched as you put in the earrings. “Don’t forget the pink claw clip! It’ll match better!”
“Thank you grace!” You fixed up your hair and did final touches to your makeup.
“Wow, (y/n/n). If Johnny doesn’t like you, I’ll be your sugar daddy.”
“Gracie!”
You heard the buzzer to be buzzed into your dorm. Looking at your phone you saw his text.
‘I’m here.’
‘Okay buzzing you up!’ As you did so. Soon enough you heard a knock at your door. Letting him in you saw that he was even more gorgeous than on the screen. His perfectly quaffed hair was about to be in silver fox territory as he had evidence of smile lines beginning to form at his eyes. He was tall and muscular. As you could see from the curves of his suit.
“You look- wow.” He stared, face full of awe.
“Thank you Johnny. You look good too.” You smiled, catching a glance at what was in his hand. “What are those?”
“Oh-” his trance had been broken, as he held them out for you. “These are for you.”
“Thank you so much! They’re beautiful!” You took the bouquet.
#johnny cage x reader#mortal kombat#youre so art deco#johnny cage smut#johnny cage#sugar daddy! johnny cage#chapter two
75 notes
·
View notes
Note
anything fluffy for will smith please!!
The draft was over and you were preparing to celebrate with the party that was being hosted for all the new players. You couldn’t wait to celebrate with your brothers, but you couldn’t help but think about all the attractive men you watched after your brother. You quickly changed into one of the dresses you packed, a more casual one. You were putting makeup on when a knock startled you causing a slight smudge on your lipstick.
“Hurry up Y/N, you’re taking so long,” your twin brother groaned.
“Adam I’m in the middle of something, go away,” you yelled back.
“Other people have to use the bathroom too,” your other brother Luca yelled. You rolled your eyes and grabbed a tissue to wipe off your makeup to fix it.
“Fine come in, I’m done changing anyway,” you opened the door for them. The two boys stepped in.
“Woah sis, fancy,” Luca teased.
“This is nothing, you saw what I wore at the draft,” you were only wearing a sundress compared to the formal tight dress you had on the night of the draft.
“Yeah yeah okay, still enough to win over one of the guys,” Adam rolled his eyes.
“I’m just you in a dress, calm down,” you snapped.
“She has a point, same face,” Luca shrugged.
“I have to protect my twin, just stick with me or Luca at the party got it,” he said firmly.
“Okay, whatever Adam,” you flashed a fake smile. You fixed your lipstick then left your two brothers in the bathroom. They shut the door behind you after you left, and you listened to their muffled conversation through the door.
“You know how she is, she will somehow get into trouble with one of the guys,” Adam scolded Luca.
“Dude no she won’t, you know Y/N better than anyone, why are you like this?”
“I’m not ready to leave you two in Michigan, I won’t be there with my best friend as she goes through college, I had this whole plan before I got recruited to be drafted, I don’t know it just all felt so fast the other night.” That was the first time you heard Adam explain his emotions to Luca, if he was having a problem he’d always tell you, you were his comforter and built-in best friend. Adam’s words tugged on your heartstrings, you swallowed deeply then looked at yourself in the mirror, you internally agreed you would stick with him tonight, no boys unless they approached you.
The two walked out of the bathroom joining you back in the “kid’s room”. The three of you walked out heading to the party. You kept the room key in your purse considering your parents trusted you the most. The three of you passed the time on your walk making fun of each other and laughing until you got to the venue.
“So this is an NHL party?” Adam said as the three of you walked in.
“Not too bad,” you smiled elbowing your brother, “sweet deal.” The three of you worked your way into the crowd. You watched Luca and Adam quickly find Gavin leaving you standing behind them just listening to the conversation. You looked around and saw everyone was kind of in their own little bubbles. You got bored and went to go sit down, Luca followed you leaving Adam occupied with Gavin.
“I heard you guys in the bathroom,” you said to Luca.
“So you know he loves you,” he said.
“Yeah idiot, and I love him too, I don’t want him to leave either, but it’s part of his life now, we are both growing up, so can he just let me go?” you asked Luca.
“You know he will never do that, you guys have been together almost every day of your lives, I’ll talk to him okay, but his protection is out of love,” he smiled.
“I know,” you looked up and saw Adam walking over to you guys. Luca nodded as a cue for you to stand up and leave so he could talk to Adam.
“Love you, bro,” you said to Adam as you quickly walked past.
“Yeah you too, hey wait where are you going?” he asked. You didn’t answer because Luca already sat him down. You began to walk through the crowd where you found Gavin. You smiled and waved said a quick hello then kept moving. You were making your way to get some water when you bumped into someone.
“I’m so sorry,” the boy said.
“Hey it’s okay no worries,” you smiled as your eyes met his. You felt your face heating as you continued eye contact because he was adorable.
“I’m Will, Will Smith,” he held out his hand.
“Oh so you’re the one who played the fresh prince of Bel-Air as you went up,” you said.
“Yup, that’s me,” he laughed.
“I’m Y/N Fantilli, Adam is my twin,”
“Yeah you two look similar,” he smiled, after a pause he spoke again, “So where’s your brother?”
“Oh he and Luca are both on the couch over there, definitely watching me,” you blushed, “well watching us.” You turned and looked at them, Adam with his arms crossed, Luca smiling and waving, grabbing Adam’s arm trying to get him to wave. You and Will both waved back.
“Adam doesn’t look too happy you’re with me so I’m gonna go,” Will began.
“Wait, don’t go, I have no one to hang out with besides them and Luca is trying to convince Adam to let me be independent, please stay,” you begged.
“I don’t want to upset your brother,”
“He will be fine.” You turned and looked at them again, they were standing up approaching you. Will remained in place standing with you as your two brothers made their way over.
“Well well well Y/N, what do we have here?” Adam still arms crossed.
“You’re so annoying stop it, and this is Will, Will Smith,” you said nervously.
“Hey, nice to meet you guys,” he held out his hand. Luca shook it, Adam was hesitant but the glare Luca shot him forced him to loosen up.
“You too,” your brothers said in unison.
“Can you excuse us for a second,” Adam said grabbing your arm.
“Sure, I’ll be here,” Will shrugged. Adam dragged you away, Luca following quickly behind.
“What the hell Adam,” you scolded him. He stood there silent.
“Adam,” Luca said. Your twin sighed and began to talk.
“Nice guy, really is, but,” he stopped.
“But what Adam hmm,��� you said annoyed.
“I don’t know, look it’s my job to protect you sis okay?”
“From someone who’s harmless?” you asked confused.
“You just met you don’t know him that well,”
“You just met him too,” your other brother chimed in.
“Stay out of it Luca, my point is I just wanted to say be careful and have fun,” Adam put his hand on your shoulder, and his stern look turned into a smile. You walked away with a smile on your face back to where Will was standing.
“I’m back,” you said.
“Great, cause it was getting kind of lonely,”
“In a crowded area like this?” you laughed.
“Hey I don’t know, you said to stay with you so I am, besides I don’t do super well in crowds” he shrugged his shoulders. The two of you continued talking as you made your way through the crowd to a more open area with fewer people. You continued getting to know each other, and you thought he was amazing. He was funny, sweet, and listened to what you had to say.
“You did what?” he laughed.
“Oh trust me, Adam and Luca don’t make it easy being the only girl,” you rolled your eyes and laughed.
“Y/N I hope this isn’t too soon or anything, but I’ve really enjoyed talking to you, can I get your number or something?”
“Oh yeah sure, I was actually gonna ask you the same,” you smiled handing him your phone.
“That’s a relief, I was nervous to ask such a pretty girl for her number,” he blushed. Pretty. Yup, you heard him right, he called you a pretty girl. Instantly at that word you were red, you quickly typed your number into his phone and handed it back. He looked up and saw you blushing, he was too.
“You think I’m pretty?” you asked.
“Yeah, I mean, you are pretty, and I hope your brothers don’t kill me for saying that,” he said nervously.
“Oh they’re fine, and besides they should be happy I’m happy to be talking to a cute boy the whole night,” you grinned.
“You called me cute,” he said with a huge smile.
“You’re cute Will Smith, adorable even,” you made his smile grow bigger. You checked the time and saw it was getting late, and right on time, your brothers approached you saying you wanted to leave. The butterflies in your stomach grew ecstatic, you didn’t know how things would go with Will after you left, so you had to act fast. Out of pure impulse, you kissed him on the cheek.
“Bye Will,” you said beginning to walk away, he grabbed your hand to stop you, pulling you back to him. Your face was practically touching his, if you moved any closer they would be touching. You felt lips press yours as you closed your eyes, they broke apart as you opened them.
“Goodbye Y/N Fantilli, I’ll text you,” he smiled. Both of your brothers stood in shock as you joined them. The three of you walked back to the hotel in silence.
“Well that was a fun party,” Luca finally said.
“Yup,” you and Adam said in unison with very different tones.
“I trust you Y/N, you’ll be fine,” he said pulling you under his shoulder as you walked.
“Really Adam?” you said still in the loose headlock he put you in.
“Definitely.” You felt your phone in your purse it was Will. You waited until you got to your room to open the text because you knew your brothers would want to know. The three of you sat on Luca and Adam’s shared bed and opened the message.
“Y/N, thanks for making this weekend worth all the chaos, hopefully, I can see you again soon ☺️”
“Awww,” the three of you said in unison.
“What’s wrong with us?” Luca laughed.
“Well answer Y/N, don’t leave him waiting any longer.”
“Relax Adam, now you’re so supportive,” you rolled your eyes, and began to type a response.“I hope so too, you miss my pretty face already don’t you 🤭” you sent the message flopping back on the bed waiting for what possible reaction you would get that would leave you smiling the rest of the night.
________________________
Long but cute story
#hockey boys#nhl fan fiction#college hockey#hockey fanfiction#hockey imagine#ice hockey#hockey fan fiction#umich boys#umich hockey#adam fantilli#luca fantilli#nhl draft combine#nhl draft 2023#nhl x reader#nhl imagine
169 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Last Steve Harrington Part 13
AO3 Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12
Steve’s first few days at Family Video passed by without incident. He started during the week so it wasn’t very busy and Robin was a good teacher. She talked a lot. A constant stream of chatter. It made him feel comfortable, oddly enough. She never seemed to mind that he didn’t have a lot to say himself, but he tried to contribute. Tried to share bits of himself with her.
She had been going on about the other part time employee who called in sick all the time, Rick. He always left her high and dry on Friday afternoons. After the first few times, Steve would have stopped scheduling him for the shift but apparently there were rules that Robin had to follow. Sounded like bullshit to him.
“So, last weekend I had to work alone and there was a huge rush, because there’s always a huge rush after five. And this woman kept yelling at me, like that was going to make me go any faster.”
“But Robin,” Steve deadpanned, “the customer is always right.”
She barked out a quick laugh.
“She sounds like a real bitch, though. At least if Rick calls in again this Friday, I can come and help you.”
She looked over at him with a smile. “Thanks, Steve.”
They went back to their separate tasks and worked quietly for a few minutes. Steve knew it wouldn’t last long.
“Nancy has really been nagging me about college since she’s been back,” Robin said, breaking the silence. Steve kept his finger on the rewind button and looked up at her.
“What were you gunna do?”
“Criminology.”
“What the heck is that?”
“The study of crime and criminal behavior.”
“Sounds cool.” He didn’t know what job you could do with it, but it did sound badass.
“Yeah, it’s cool.” She said and laughed a little to herself.
He wanted to ask her why she didn’t want to go but he already knew the answer. She didn’t want to leave him. It made him incredibly angry, all of a sudden. Because if the kids had left him where he belonged, Robin would probably be ready to move on. She had been heartbroken when Steve died, and all her plans had fallen apart. Now, she was putting them on hold again. For him. Making sacrifices. For him. And she shouldn’t.
“Nancy is right, you should go,” was all he could think to say.
She went quiet again. Steve took the tape out of the machine and put the next one in.
“Not yet,” she finally said. “I’m gunna save up a bit more. Apply next year.”
As if Steve wouldn’t be able to see through that. Saving up for college wasn’t why she didn’t go last year and it certainly wasn’t why she didn’t want to go this year.
“That’s a long time to wait.”
She hummed noncommittedly. “It’s not that long.”
“I don’t –” Steve paused, trying to get his thoughts together. He ran his fingers through his hair, frustrated with himself. “I don’t want you stay or put your life on hold for me.”
“I’m not.”
“Rob –”
“Steve!” She interrupted. “I’m not!”
She wasn’t looking at him.
“I’m not him, Robin. You don’t need to stay for me. I don’t want you to stay for me.”
“I’m staying for me, asshole!” Robin yelled as she walked over and shoved him hard. “I know you’re not him. I am so aware you are not him, Steve. I want to stay because I want to know you.”
Steve rubbed his chest and gritted his teeth. Robin glared up at him. He glared back.
“You stubborn ass – I told you I wasn’t leaving. You trying to push me away isn’t going to work. College will be waiting for me when I’m ready to go.” Her face softened and she reached for his hand. “And even when I do go – I’m not leaving you. You’re stuck with me forever. Got it?”
He looked away and swallowed against the lump in his throat. He didn’t want to start depending on her, didn’t want to keep liking her so much. Better to push her away now, let her get on with her life, than have her leave him after he became attached. As if he wasn’t attached already…
Robin was the first person he could reasonably call his friend here. He knew Dustin wished they were closer, but he couldn’t get past the weight of expectation in his eyes. The eyes that still saw Steve and not… him. It hurt, because Dustin was his brother and he was holding himself back from him. Eleven and Will – well, he was starting to love them dearly and that scared the shit out of him. And Eddie was becoming something…maybe. Which also hurt and scared the shit out of him.
But Robin? She didn’t hurt him or scare him. She didn’t treat him like something fragile that was on the verge of breaking. She shoved him and got angry and called him out when he was being an idiot. She was a good friend and deserved better than Steve trying to push her away.
Gripping her hand back, he nodded.
“Got it.”
She smiled and shoved him – more gently this time.
“Good. Now get back to work.”
Steve laughed and went back to rewinding tapes.
---
The day continued. Robin went into the back to do some paperwork leaving Steve to main the front store. The bell chimed as the door opened, signifying a customer had walked in. He looked around the display he was setting up to see a teenaged boy standing at the entrance, looking around with wide familiar brown eyes.
“Can I help you?” Steve asked.
“Stephanie?” the boy asked, eyes squinted in confusion.
“Uh… no. Steve.” He corrected.
“Steve? Steve Harrington?”
“Yeah, Steve Harrington.” The words were barely out of his mouth when the boy threw himself at him. Steve caught him on instinct, thinking about the last time a teenager threw themselves at him. The boy was skinny but damn was he strong. When he was done hugging the absolute life out of Steve, he leaned back a bit and started poking at his cheeks and touching his hair.
“So strange,” he said wide-eyed. “My Harrington was a girl.”
Steve blinked down at who could only be another Eleven.
A boy Eleven.
And his universes’ Steve was a girl!?
“I am so glad you lived!” Eleven said with the same devastating conviction and happiness that the other visiting Eleven had used. Tears immediately sprang to Steve’s eyes. Because this time he knew it was a choice. He had chosen to live and every day he chose it again, the beautiful and painful torture of it.
He looked into Eleven’s face, picking apart the similarities and differences between him and the other Eleven’s he had known. It was always the eyes that were the same. The wide brown eyes that always seemed innocent despite all that they had been through. He realized that they really were all looking for him. That an infinite number of Eleven’s couldn’t accept that he was gone, that just needed to find one of him for it to all be okay again. He thought his chest might burst with the feelings building up inside him.
Steve didn’t know what else to do so he smiled and said, “hello, Eleven.”
Eleven beamed up at him and stepped back from their hug but stayed close to his side.
“Who’s this?” Robin asked, coming out of the back room.
“I am Eleven!” he said, “and you look like Rob!”
Robin eyed Steve questionably before turning back to the boy. “I’m Robin.”
“Robin,” Eleven exclaimed in wonder and went over to poke at her cheek too. She allowed it for a moment before waving him away when he started playing with her hair.
“So, I’m guessing you’re from another universe then? Visiting Steve?”
“Yes,” Eleven replied with a smile. “I am visiting.”
“Is everyone the opposite gender to us?” Robin asked. “Our Eleven is a girl.”
Eleven scrunched his nose at that, Steve understood the feeling.
“My Stephanie was a girl and my Rob is a boy,” Eleven said and shrugged.
“Stephanie!” Robin shrieked. “Oh, I wish I could have known her! Steve as a girl…”
“I bet she was badass and hot. Tell Robin she was badass and hot, Eleven.”
“Stephanie was very bad ass… and hot.”
Steve winked at her and she rolled her eyes.
“What about Dustin?” Steve asked.
“Dustin?”
“Henderson.”
“Ah. Tina Henderson.”
“Tina!” Steve repeated, cackling at the thought.
Robin laughed too. “He’s going to hate that!”
They talked and traded names back and forth. Eleven was just as curious as they were to find out how different their universes were. Steve wasn’t surprised by most people’s parallel names and he and Robin were able to figure out most of them. Mike was Michelle, Nancy was Nathan, Max was Max. It was only Eddie’s that was holding them up. There just weren’t that many feminine ways of changing Edward. Robin guessed Edwina and Edith and Steve guessed Emily and Emma. All no goes. Eleven seemed to be really enjoying stumping them on this one and Steve had a feeling they already guessed it but he was messing with them.
“Edie.” Robin tried. Eleven shook his head.
“It’s Lucy,” he finally admitted.
“Lucy!?” Steve and Robin exclaimed at the same time.
Eleven nodded. “Lucy Munson.”
“Well… that doesn’t make any sense at all!” Steve spluttered.
Eleven just smiled and shrugged.
Steve narrowed his eyes at him suspiciously. “You’re messing with us, aren’t you?”
Eleven laughed full out and shook his head. “Her name is Lucy! Friends don’t lie.”
Friends don’t lie.
Steve’s heart clenched. Those damn echoes.
“I should get back,” Eleven said. “I have never been gone this long before and everyone will be worried. Is there anything you would like me to tell them for you?” he asked, looking at Steve with the weight of infinite Eleven’s in his eyes.
“Tell them,” Steve began slowly. “Tell them that I’m okay, and that I love them. Tell them that I know that surviving is hard and moving on is harder but that their Harrington wouldn’t want them to – to hurt themselves with missing her. That if she was anything like me, she’s proud of them. So proud of them. She would be proud of you too, Eleven. Tell them to look after each other like she would have and remember her with laughter. Did she like to swim?”
“Yes,” Eleven replied softly.
“Tell them to go to the lake if they want to feel close to her. It’s where I would choose to be. They can go there to – to swim with her and talk to her… if they need to.”
Eleven nodded, tears pooling in his eyes. “I will tell them.”
Steve moved closer and opened his arms and Eleven fell into them as his tears turned into sobs.
“Thank you, Steve.”
He knew the words were coming but they still felt like a punch to his gut anyway. He didn’t need to ask what for this time.
For living.
He looked up and blinked quickly, holding Eleven tighter. Suddenly realizing that every time he was visited by an Eleven… he healed an entire universe full of the people he cared about most – simply by living. By being here to say that everything was going to be okay and to let them say goodbye. And if that was true… it meant helping an infinite number of Elevens, and Dustins, and Eds, and Robins… and on and on and on.
And Steve thought about the sacrifice of that.
Of taking on an infinite amount of love and grief. He wondered if this was the moment that Other Steve had mentioned feeling to Robin. A different sacrifice, he knew. But a sacrifice all the same. And he couldn’t help but rage inside… at the injustice of fate. Because if it was Steve Harrington’s destiny to die saving his loved ones but leave them in grieving pieces – how was it fair that it was his destiny to put those pieces back together? How was he supposed to heal an infinite multiverse amount of grief?
He didn’t know if he was strong enough. His own grief was a black hole that sucked in every sliver of happiness he managed to feel. But… maybe that was why he could do it. Because he knew it. Had become intimately acquainted with it. Felt it. Understood it. Breathed it. Lived it. Cherished it.
The loss.
The grief.
The guilt.
… and the love.
And they helped to heal pieces of him, too. The visiting Elevens. The first had found him, pulled him to safety and gave him a home and a family. The second had saved him from a literal cliff’s edge, and then gave him a reason to try living again. And this Eleven…proved just how much the universe…loved him.
Every instance of him.
Another sob broke free at his side and he looked over to see Robin with her head in her hands, shoulders shaking as she tried to cry quietly. She didn’t manage it. She cried just like she did everything else – loudly.
“I miss you,” Eleven said into his chest.
“I know,” Steve replied softly.
He took a deep breath and then stepped out of Steve’s arms, wiping his eyes.
“It helps to know you are here. I can’t wait to tell the others about Steve Harrington. They will be so shocked!”
“I’m excited to tell everyone about you, too.”
Robin came over and slipped her hand into his and Steve was grateful for her grounding presence.
“Good-bye, Steve,” Eleven said and smiled brightly, despite the tears still in his eyes.
Steve smiled back. “Good-bye, Eleven.”
The bell over the door jingled as he left. Back to a universe without a Steve or Stephanie in it. To tell them that he loved them and that everything was going to be okay.
Because he did.
And it was.
Part 14
@just-a-tiny-void @mx-jinxous @child-of-cthulhu @awholedamnmesstbh @phoenix0bird @bookworm0690 @estrellami-1 @a-gae-af-racoon @nailbatandfreak @novelnovella @meela86 @lenathegay @vampireinthesun @penny00dreadful @questionablequeeries @espressopatronum454 @r0binscript @seths-rogens @fruity-nerd @sani-86 @n0-1-important @swimmingbirdrunningrock @ellietheasexylibrarian @manda-panda-monium @paintsplatteredandimperfect @viridianphtalo @goodolefashionedloverboi @13catastrophic-blues
Huge thanks to those who offered to be sounding boards for an idea: @newtstabber @stevie-crow @queenie-ofthe-void @tinytalkingtina @hbyrde36 Thank you all so so much!
-I have all of the alternate names written out and I am so mad I couldn’t figure out how to get Wayne (Winnie) into this conversation.
-I don’t know why everything I write turns out sadder than I originally intended. This was supposed to be a fun chapter and instead it became…This. Cried like a baby writing it. That said, it's my favourite so far so I hope you all like it!
#steddie#stranger things#steve x eddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#multiverse#angst with a happy ending#robin buckley#the last steve harrington
66 notes
·
View notes
Text
An Eye for an Eye, ‘Til the World goes Blind
Chapter 2- A Date
Intro, Cha1, Cha2, Cha 3, Cha4, (Other chapters since it takes to long to link everything lol)
Guys I PROMISE the next chapter is gonna be WAY more interesting!
It was strange how each time, the victims seemed to resemble her and her brother.
Y/N shuddered, wrapping her arms around her torso and leaning back in her chair. “Gosh, that’s scaring me haha,” she softly joked to herself, “it almost makes me feel like they’re looking for…” Her voice trailed off as she squinted out her dark window, seeing her reflection faintly. She watched stiffly as it almost looked like her reflection was moving, morphed even, ever so slightly.
She slowly pushed herself off her seat and stepped closer to the window. Her heart began beating heavily as she ambled forward and lifted her hands to feel the window. A whiteness suddenly became more visible around her reflection’s face that began to take a form of its own the closer she got. Dark spots, an outline of a tall body, and a white blank face. As soon as she realized there was a person- or a thing- outside her window, her head began to buzz as she stepped back in horror.
But by then it was too late, for its long arms reached through the window, grabbing her by the neck. The broken window cut her all over as it violently pulled her outside, its grip around her throat too strong for her to breathe, let alone scream. It began to tear at her flesh and rip her apart but there was nothing she could do as it
“Bah!” Y/N yelled out loud as she jolted her head off her desk, looking around her office. Her heart thumped loudly in her chest as she heaved, searching around the room for the monster that killed her. She turned her seat towards her window, seeing the curtains pulled over it and untouched. Her buzzing head made her groan in pain as she thought.
Was that all just a dream?
2:17, the clock in the corner of the computer screen read brightly. I must have fallen asleep, she thought as she leaned back in her chair and rubbed her eyes. I must have seen too much death for a day.
After a quick shower, change of clothes, and the most needed sleep ever, the next day came. Finals were starting for her college classes before winter vacation- something she studied enough to understand and pass without much problem.
As she sat up from bed, Y/N pouted her lip tiredly and whimpered. “Just two more days,” she whispered to herself as she looked around her small bedroom. Images flashed of the events of last night in her head, replaying again and again questioningly. If that was a nightmare, which it was considering she didn’t really die, then when did she fall asleep?
As quickly as she got ready for bed, she got ready for the day. Wearing her cute new boots with fur, cute pants and shirt, along with her fluffy coat, she was ready to blow these next two days of finals away! And on special days when she needed an extra boost, she had a bus bring her to a coffee shop right down the street from her college.
She was lucky enough that the university was so close to her apartment building, let alone that it had the greatest coffee shop about 5 minutes away. The familiar smell washed her stress away as she stepped inside the little shop, seeing the regulars she’d seen so many times.
Finally, she thought as she sat down with her cup of coffee in her hand, sipping away at the lovely flavor. The cushions of the seats were soft and comfortable- and the smell and quietness of the place was perfect for her to get a little extra practice in before her finals.
The little bell above the door rang, alerting it had been opened. Mindlessly, Y/N glanced upwards at the arrival of a new customer before looking back at the little laptop that she brought- just to look back up at the man who walked in.
Brown hair with sideburns, and dark eyes that quickly encaptured her. He wore a thick, unzipped brown jacket over a red plaid flannel that was sticking out from the jacket, and regular blue jeans with work boots. He was rather attractive; although he appeared a little stressed from the seriousness of his face.
Y/N curved her lips into a sly smile, looking back at her computer as the man walked to the counter to order his coffee. She kept on glancing over at him; like a normal young girl, she couldn’t help but pay attention whenever she saw an attractive guy nearby. This guy was tall, broad, looked strong, and looked like a hard worker. Not to mention when he turned to face her with those deep, cold yet alluring brown eyes-
Lost in a daydream, she didn’t notice right away that the guy turned to look at her. “Oh,” she whispered, breaking her haze as she shook her head. Blush rushed to her face as she looked back at her little laptop. Okay, that was a little embarrassing, she thought to herself.
Moments later, she heard loud footsteps approach her in the familiar heavy sound of workboots. “Hey,” a deep voice said, “mind if I sit here with you?”
“Oh, um,” Y/N blushed more vibrantly, her apparent nervousness doing nothing to hide itself from plain sight. There was an attractive southern twang in his deep voice- something that made her stomach knot up and her chest warm and heavy as the sound blessed her ears. “Yeah, go ahead,” she smiled nervously.
He had a slight smile on his face as he sat down, a hot cup of coffee in his hand as he took a sip. “So,” he started, “what’s a pretty girl like you doing here all alone?”
“Heh heh, well, I have finals for my college today and tomorrow, so I’m just getting a little bit of practice in beforehand,” she explained, instinctively staring deeply into his eyes as her head hung a little low and her finger intertwined in her hair. “What’s a handsome guy like you doing ‘round these parts?”
“Just spendin’ some time on a business trip,” he looked to the side, his welcoming smile like a bright light: something directly in her eyes that she just couldn’t block out.
Something about the way he smiled and the way his eyes were; they were different. Alluring for sure, as well as handsome, but something felt misplaced in the comfort of the dark colors that looked back at her. His eyes held no life; yet, at the same time, they held an attractiveness. And his smile felt the same; lifeless, yet ingenuous. A weird paradoxical mix; one that she just couldn’t put her finger on and be completely sure about.
“Oh yeah? Where do you work?” She asked, breaking her eyes from his dark ones. As she did, she noticed how fast her heart was beating. How heavily her body tensed and pulsed.
Similar to the fight or flight response to danger, in a way.
“I’m an internet installer so I gotta move around a lot to help clients.” He dryly said, as if it was something that he wasn’t particularly interested in.
Y/N nodded her head lightly before taking another sip of her coffee. There was an awkward silence for a minute, where the two avoided eye contact and just drank their coffees.
“Say,” the man said, breaking the silence. “Since I’m new here, would you wanna show me ‘round sometime? I can give you my number if that’s all good for you.”
“Oh, of course, for sure!” Y/N smiled, nodding her head as she grabbed her phone from her back pocket and opened it. The good old Samsung Epic 4G (Sprint)- the 2010 version of the new iPhone 15, with a pull-out keyboard. She handed her phone to the man, who quickly input her number and sent himself a text.
She smiled widely as he handed her phone back, his soft smile making her chest feel all warm and heavy again. “So, what should I call you, stranger? I’m Y/N,” she said, taking another sip of her coffee to hide her childish smile. Like a middle school girl hiding her smile from her crush with her hand.
“Well, Y/N,” he started, taking the final sip of his coffee. “You can call me Tim.”
The bell rang as usual, citing the end of the first part of the finals. Y/N stretched her limbs as she stepped off the campus finally, a satisfied feeling running through her body knowing she was almost done with school for winter vacation. Although she’d likely spend her whole winter break focused on the LadyLane Massacres.
Her walk back to her apartment was like normal: quiet, iPod connected to her earbuds for music as she listened to the latest music of the era. Staind, Seether, Slipknot, Rhianna, Bruno Mars- all the good stuff.
Despite the time reading 6pm, it was already starting to get dark now that the cold weather had been coming in. The sun was barely hanging over the trees as she walked down the sidewalk near the wooded area, which cast her in darkness as the shades of the thickly placed trees covered her.
It somehow reminded her of the darkness of her room whenever she had that dream. How hasn’t she noticed the darkness crawl on her walls as she approached that monster outside?
Moreover, it made her think of the darkness in her room that she hadn’t noticed before as she was checking the images of the victims. Did all those girls really look like her? Or did her dream make them look that way?
The lights in that room were bright, so why does she remember seeing a trail of darkness every time she looked away?
Y/N winced, stopping in her tracks and placing her hand on her forehead. Damn, it felt like a bullet just shot her in the head with how bad a buzzing migraine just hit her out of nowhere. She closed her eyes tightly and whimpered silently in pain as she stumbled back. “Fuck,” she mumbled, as it began to pulse increasingly in powerful waves of pain.
It wasn’t like the area was particularly dangerous. Hearing a snap somewhere in the woods wouldn’t normally cause concern if there hadn’t been a sting on her back. The sting of when you know someone’s watching you.
How hadn’t she noticed that one either?
“Okay,” Y/N mumbled as she spun around, quickening her pace as she trailed forward and faster down the sidewalk. She scanned around the forest, to all sides around her, not seeing a single person or animal. “Why has today been so…”
A snap came from a branch in the woods. Y/N turned her head in that direction, seeing nothing but darkness in the forest. Maybe it was because her migraine had her vision blurry that she couldn’t see anything. But it’d make more sense for the blackness of the forest to blind her from whatever was out there.
But, the sun was just out a few seconds ago. How did it get so fucking dark so fast?
Her heart sped up as she turned all around her, noticing the darkness fall over the melted snow patched on the grass. The empty streets, bright street lamps, and nobody else in sight. Y/N gulped, feeling a sense of fight or flight rise in her body as she looked all around, cautiously stepping forward in a careful walk. Her lips parted as her breathing got heavier.
Eyes were stinging her from all around, and she could feel it. What the fuck was happening? She began to run in the direction of her home. Danger was all around and her senses could feel it.
The clicking of footsteps seemed to echo behind her.
That was probably the fastest she ever ran home. Slamming her apartment door behind her back as she ran in, she breathed heavily as her back slid against the door.
“What the fuck just happened?” she asked herself as she heaved. With a shaky hand, Y/N pulled out her phone to call her brother and tell him about the weird experience she just had. But as she went to pull up her brother’s contact, she couldn’t help but notice Tim had texted her.
Tim: Hey this is Tim btw. I just wanted to say u looked very pretty this morning.
Tim: If ur free tonight, would u want to get dinner?
Blush spread across her face as she read the texts, some of her frustrations melting away in an instant. Biting her lower lip, she pulled out the side keyboard and wrote back a response.
You: Yeah sure. What time?
Y/N stood up, taking off her shoes at the door and getting changed into something more comfy for the time being. Last night and the moments prior left her feeling a little nauseated. So, she walked into the darkness by a forest during the daylight, before getting a headache that made her close her eyes tight, suddenly it was nighttime, she felt a paranoia she had never felt, ran away, heard footsteps behind her- and all that after she started thinking about her nightmare and the cases?
Weird coincidence.
A sudden ding on her phone broke her from her daydream, pushing her thoughts to the back of her mind as she rushed to grab her phone.
Tim: If ur ready by 8:20, I can take u to this nice place I saw recently
Y/N looked at the time, reading 7:46 on the clock.
She could have sworn that almost 15 minutes ago, on her walk home, it was 6. How the fuck did an hour and a half pass during a 15-minute walk?
You: Sure :) Ill be ready.
Surely a nice time with an attractive guy will help clear her mind. Naively, like a normal girl her age, she just smiled and blushed as she reread his text again and again. She had 45 minutes to get ready for her new date! Sending over her address, and smiled as she jumped off the bed and ran to get ready.
And after her date, she’s gonna find out who had the audacity to follow her. She had access to more than her brother’s case info after all.
#creepypasta#creepypasta x reader#masky marble hornets#masky x y/n#masky x you#tim masky#masky x reader#hoodie marble hornets#hoodie x you#hoodie x y/n#hoodie x reader#mh hoody#masky and hoody#hoody marble hornets#hoody x reader#marble hornets#tim wright x you#brian thomas#tim wright#ticci toby x y/n#ticci toby x you#ticci toby x reader#ticci toby#proxies x reader#proxy x reader#slender proxy#proxy#proxies#creepypasta x you#creepypasta x y/n
79 notes
·
View notes
Text
Give me a "M"!
(click for better quality)
Bonus + related art + rambling under the cut
Originally I just wanted draw Dexter in a cheerleader outfit (an excuse to put him a skirt for pure funsies) and so I did! Which is art is below that i drew like a long time ago now.
It was just Dexter at first but I am a dexdark shipper so I had to have him react somehow. Then I remembered there was a comic about an athletic Mandark so I added him in his outfit from the comic.
Then my mind like it always does, wandered and created a short story to make sense of why they would be in this position in the first place.
~~~
After years and years of competing with Dexter relentlessly, Mandark had gotten into a rut during his high school years. He's absolutely frustrated that he's STILL second best to him.
(The time the art is placed is late hs years)
So what does a teen genius do? He explores outside of the science community and what do you know. . . he's actually not half bad at sports. He quickly abandons science for it. Mandark is thriving. Why didn't he try this sooner?
And Dexter? He's so confused. Never thought his greatest rival would ditch him science for a mere physical activity. Determined to find the bottom of this he goes directly to the source of his confusion and asks. It goes as well as you think. Not at all.
Plan B. Find a way to get close enough without raising too much suspicion. How? Cheerleading.
It honestly wasn't that hard to join. He's cute and flexible enough due to the battle he's faced through out the years. Plus a recommendation from his dear sister, Deedee, quickly received him a spot.
(HAVE YOU SEEN HIM DO FLIPS IN THE START OF EGO TRIP?? BOY IS READY)
The idea seemed brilliant at the time. That is until he found out he had to wear a skirt of all things. Deedee secretly tricked as a little bit of revenge. It wasn't too bad in the end. He rocks skirt ngl.
With the excuse of having come to rehearsals and games that involved Mandark, things have become much easier to keep a closer look on him.
His sudden presence certainly didn't go noticed. Mandark's eye often drifted to the redhead that cheered him on during events. And oh, what an ego boost. His former rival cheering on? Yelling out his number whenever he had the ball? Wishing for him to succeed? Even if it was for only the cheerleaders' expectation to do so. How addicting.
He cornered Dexter right after.
"That 'M' for me, McPherson?" Mandark teased. Knowing the "M" was their school's name. "How kind of you."
"In your dreams, Astronomanov." It continued on like for a while.
They lap it like fucking cream. They've missed this. The feeling buried was bubbling up to the surface once again. Stealing quick glances, the playful jabs, grins matching the other's.
Who made the first move? It wasn't clear. It seemed so natural to be in the other's presence. Both just eased into they didn't even noticed.
Meanwhile, the science department was taking heavy losses. They lost their best two students. Ended up begging the two come back.
Eventually Dexter and Mandark did return but as partners this time.
. . . Douglas? He was thrown out of the loop about the entire thing. He missed out a lot when watching from afar. No one told him they were switching sides! What the heck guys. :/
He wouldn't survived the switch anyway. He's athletic pathetic. Stay on your game boy, Douglas. It's better this way.
~~~
Details I didn't include
Mandark was indeed incredibly suspicious of Dexter's switch
He was a total tsundere about Dexter's outfit (he did like it)
They had a talk about why they made a switched. talk about it and sealed it with a kiss (maybe :3)
Mandark said science for geeks but he's a geek through and through. he couldn't resist science for too long
Sports department was crying after
They do the same thing in college but in different uniforms (already drawn but not sharing that here :>)
I'm definitely forgetting more details but i am drawing blanks here
~~~
Bonus!
"You know there are male cheerleaders, right?"
"I like the breeze it gives." Half truth. Was told they ran out of male uniforms. <- Lie by Deedee
"Hm. If you say so." Gay panic
Inspired by a scene of Daffy Duck from Looney Tunes (2011)
Thank you for reading!
#dexter's laboratory#dexter's lab#dexdark#dexter#mandark#flame draws#they were gonna be in a gym that i had trouble with the background and i like outside scenery more#this is more like a short verison of this whole thing? im sure i could've stretch out this more but god im not a writer#i was hesitant about sharing this. i kept going back n forth for so long but i saw something today and now im posting out of spite lol#this is the first i rambled my story out of tags! look at me. i ran out of words in here#im just proud of this whole thing. technically my full fledged au ig? and damn if im not gonna share it#sorry if my little story doesnt make sense tho. i've been trying to put it into two for 2 hours now and trying to iron it out. it's rushed
20 notes
·
View notes
Text
when it rains, it pours - matty beniers
word count: 1.4k words
um hello i wrote this in 30 mins at 1am so don’t hate me if it’s bad🫣 but the world needs more matty love and something about yelling at him in the rain is very therapeutic to my soul
“She’s still there?” You furrowed your eyebrows when you heard Brendan’s voice. Walking down the hallway in Matty’s new apartment in Seattle, you were quick to figure out that he was on facetime with his friend so you hung back, hoping to not disturb him.
“Yeah dude, I think she’s going home in a couple days” Matty replied.
“She better be gone before I get there, we’ve gotta tear shit up bro” Brendan said and Matty laughed loudly. You probably shouldn’t be eavesdropping but isn’t there a rule like if someone’s talking about you then it’s fair game? That’s what you’ll go with anyways.
“Yeah yeah, trust me I’ll have her back home long before that” Your breath hitched and you could feel the tears pricking you eyes. While maybe what he said wasn’t particularly bad, you had felt like you’d been walking on eggshells this entire trip.
He asked you to come out to see his new place and maybe catch a game or two. He bought you a plane ticket and picked you up at the airport before taking you around his new home, a place you could already tell he loved. However, with everything he showed you, it just made you feel out of place.
You were apart of his college life. The two years of fun he got to have before starting his career and as amazing as it was to see him finally playing in the NHL, you knew that you weren’t meant to be here alongside him.
This was different. Seattle had captured Matty’s heart in a way he’d sworn would never happen because he ‘loved Michigan too much’. He looked at home here, it was natural for him. His life was already set up and planned out without leaving room for you. It was just as well though because at the end of the day, you were in Ann Arbor and he was here, simple as that.
You ran back to the bedroom, taking a few deep breaths as you tried to collect yourself before figuring out the best move. It only took a few minutes and a text to your mom to have her book a flight back to Michigan and you were ready to go.
You were doing him a favour, he deserved to have a fresh start, to not have to worry about his girlfriend back in college across the country. It would be easier this way. Once your bags were packed, you towed them out to the main area of his apartment. Matty was still on the couch but his phone was resting on the table and he was watching a replay of his game last night.
“Oh hey, we’re gonna meet for dinner at- what are you doing?” Matty cuts himself off when he sees you standing with your suitcase. “What’s going on?”
“I’m going home” You say, your voice coming out a little hoarse but you clear your throat, ignoring the feeling.
“What? Your flight isn’t for another couple days babe, did something happen?” You’re frozen as he gets up off the couch and makes his way over to you.
“I think we should break up” You blurt out, surprising yourself just as much as him. You weren’t even sure if there was anything to break up. He claimed that he didn’t think labels were important, that your feelings should be enough to not warrant a silly label. In hindsight, that should have been a red flag.
“Can we talk about this?” He was confused. Everything was going well, he thought inviting you out here would show you how serious he was and that he wanted to take the next step with you, at least that’s what Nick told him.
“There’s nothing to talk about. I’m going home, good luck here Matty, you’re going to do great” You knew he would. He was Matty freaking Beniers, of course he will be amazing, it just sucked that you wouldn’t be here with him.
“Y/n! You can’t just leave like this what the hell!” Matty yells and you flinch. He’s never yelled at you and you hated it. It lit a fire in you that gave you the courage to actually walk out the door. You grab your suitcase and practically run to the door but Matty’s quick behind you, trying to grab your hand to stop you.
“Stop- just let me go” You storm out of the house and into the rainy streets of Seattle, not even caring that you didn’t have a jacket, you just had to get away from him.
“Y/n! Stop! Come on!” You ignored Matty’s calls, focusing on your steps as you felt the rain mix with the tears on your cheeks. “Don’t do this! I love you!”You whip around to see him standing right behind you, panting a little from chasing you down the street.
“You’ve never loved me Matty, we both know that” It was all just a game to him, you were something to keep him busy while he waited for his real life to start. He never intended on bringing you along, you were never supposed to make it that far.
“Don’t say that” He huffed, reaching to grab your hands but you pull away. The rain continued to pelt down around you but the heat in his gaze was enough to distract you from your drenched clothes that were now sticking to your body.
“Why not? It’s true isn’t it? Isn’t that what you were talking to Brendan about?” Matty sucked in a sharp breath, he didn’t know that you heard him. “Yeah, you need me to leave so that you can go party with him so here you go, I’m making it easier on you”
“Babe, come on. That’s not-”
“Don’t. I can’t do this with you Matty” You didn’t want to hear a lame excuse. It would only make things worse.
“I thought bringing your out here would help make sense of everything. That it’d show us that long distance wouldn’t be so terrible and we could do it” He reached for your hand and this time, you let him. “Brendan was being an asshole, I swear whatever you heard it doesn’t mean anything”
“You don’t want me to leave?” You ask hesitantly and he scoffs, as if it were a completely ridiculous question.
“If you could, I would’ve had you move in with me in August” Matty smiled softly, “I always want you here, trust me”
“Swear?”
“I swear. Why wouldn’t I want my girl here?”
“Didn’t know I was your girl” You mumbled and Matty rolled his eyes.
“You wanna know the first thing I told Truss after I met you at that party?” He asked and you looked at him before nodding. “I said ‘if I don’t end up with her, I must’ve seriously fucked it up’ and yeah, maybe I was drunk out of my mind but I meant it and he reminds me of it all the time” You chuckle which makes him smile. “I love you and I’m not letting you go like this. You’re my everything, I don’t know when you decided that I wasn’t yours but you’ve always been mine” His eyes burned into yours and as much as you wanted to look away, to call a car to come pick you up and take you away, you couldn’t.
“I love you, always have and always will” You finally cave, squeezing his hands in reassurance.
“Yeah? So you’re not running out on me?” He asked humorously, smirking down at you.
“One condition”
“Anything” He grinned lazily.
“Am I your girlfriend?”
“Of course. I told you, you’re my everything give yourself any title you want, I don’t care. All I care about is if I have you” He pulls you into him and you go easily, finally feeling a little at ease in the new city. The moment seems to freeze when he kisses you, the rain falling around you goes silent and it’s suddenly just the two of you.
“This is so cliché Matty” You giggle once the moment ends. He wipes a tear from your face, still holding you close.
“What? Yelling at each other in the street?”
“No” You laugh, “Just something about the rain” It was something out of a movie but you loved it.
“Well it rains a lot in Seattle so you better get used to it” Matty replies, grabbing your bag as he guides you back to his apartment.
“Yeah I guess I should” You definitely plan on spending more time here, rain or not.
#matty beniers x reader#matty beniers imagine#matty beniers fic#seattle kraken#hockey writing#hockey fic#nhl players#nhl fanfiction
150 notes
·
View notes
Text
Sweet Medicine
Went shopping today for college supplies, got the Star Wars book Kenobi to add to the brand new Padawan book by Kiersten White along with a shirt covered in Obi-Wan Kenobi from Hot Topic, life is good, and my paycheck is gone. Anyway
Summary: while being ambushed on a planet, you and Obi-Wan retreat and tend to your wounds.
Blaster fire rang out through the forest, chunks of bark flying apart with each missed shot. You spun around a tree, narrowly dodging a blast that would have left your arm in a world of pain later. The voices of nearby droids drew closer as you readied your blaster once again, shifting your eyes to another tree next to you. There stood Obi-Wan, who desperately tried to get a message through to the Jedi order while also dodging debris and blaster fire. The soft thud of fallen rebels started growing faint and you stood behind the tree, not knowing if they were all dead or had managed to find shelter away from the battle.
“Think you can cover me really quick?” Obi-Wan shouted, droid bomb in hand. You nodded and moved from your position, firing at any droid nearby and drawing any fire to yourself. Obi-Wan tossed the bomb, the electricity taking down a relatively large group of droids, making the perfect opening. Leaping from your hiding spot you drew your saber and started cutting down the remaining droids that surrounded you. Obi-Wan joined you and covered your back, spinning his own saber and cutting down the droids.
A sharp pain shot through your thigh as you failed to block a blast, but you bit back the yelp in your throat and continued your defense, pushing away some droids that got too close with your force. “They don’t seem to be stopping, Obi!” You yelled, looking over your shoulder to find him fully surrounded. You ran towards the group and slammed into a droid with your body, the light metal still strong enough to cause a bruise. Obi-Wan ducked as you swung your saber over his head, throwing it as it spun and sliced through three droids. “Is that your way of saying we should retreat?” Obi-Wan jeered, swiping at the legs of a droid. Another blast hits your shoulder as you force your lightsaber back into your hands. Holding back the pain, you reply, “I suppose so. You don’t see anyone else here to help us, do you?” He nods in response, blocking a few more blasts before grabbing your arm and pulling you deeper into the trees.
You ran as far as you could, as much as your leg would allow you at least. Branches snapped under your feet and you were dragged through the brush, holding tightly to the sleeve of Obi-Wan’s robe and his hand stayed wrapped around your wrist. The sound of droids had faded and so had your strength, and you started to slow down, pulling Obi-Wan with you.
“We can’t stop now, y/n. We need to find the ship and get out of here,” he said, tightening his grip and pulling you along. You trudged behind and then felt your leg give out, tossing you to the earth. Obi-Wan turned quickly and knelt by you, still holding your wrist. “Yeah, I’m not sure I’ll be doing that at this moment, Obi.” You stated, sitting up and examining your injuries. Obi-Wan’s eyes widened as he took realization that you had been injured. He looked quickly between your shoulder and thigh, where your main wounds were. He saw the blood drip from your chin from your fall, and the small cuts you had sustained from the thorns found throughout the plants you had run through. He sighed as he looked into your eyes, fatigue evident as well as pain. “Why didn’t you say something about these earlier, I would have helped you with this,” he questioned, still glancing between your wounds and the area around. You looked over him as well, taking note of the light burn marks and cuts to his own body. “Didn’t have much time to think about it, with running away from killer bots and all.” You joked, a slight smile on your lips. Obi-Wan scoffed as his lips twitched slightly, moving to help you stand. “Yeah, well we’ll have plenty of time to mull that over when we get to the ship, if there is one still there.” He said, looking in the direction of the setting sun.
You grasped his arm as you limped along, watching your step to avoid falling over a root or some other obstacle. The pain throbbing through your body now with each step, your grip on his arm tightened. Obi-Wan took notice of the growing pain and knew that dragging you around was only causing you more pain, but the idea of picking you up and carrying you around made a heat rise to his cheeks. He had struggled more than once in the past few months with his ever-growing feelings for you, which had come from years prior to your Padawan time. You were close, but he didn’t know if you were close enough for it not to be weird if he picked you up bridal style. Pushing the feeling away and trying to calm his now racing heartbeat, he stopped walking and turned to you. You looked up at him curiously and made a small yelp when he swung his arm under your legs and held you against his chest, not saying a word as he continued walking ahead, holding you close.
The ship was finally in sights nearly an hour later, untouched. Obi-Wan sighed a breath of relief; medical supplies were a must in their current situation. He looked down to check on you, your eyes fluttered shut and a calm look across your face; you had become exhausted from the battle and wounds. He held you tighter to him as he started moving quicker to the ship, placing you in the copilot seat when he got in. He searched the compartments for bacta patches and bandages, finding them towards the back of the ship. “Really should have these placed elsewhere,” he mumbled to himself, carrying the pack back up to the cockpit, where you sat awake from the change of atmosphere.
“You’ll have to take off your robe so I can take a look at your shoulder, y/n.” Obi-Wan said quietly, feeling his cheeks heat slightly as if he just asker you to take your top off. You nodded slowly and shrugged the robe off, trying to roll your sleeve up to give him more room to work. Obi-Wan looked closely at the wound, the surrounding skin burnt and red, but the main wound relatively clean from blood since the blasters were pure light and heat. “That bad?” you quipped; breath fanning past Obi-Wan’s ear. He shivered slightly as he noticed just how close he was to your face, turning slightly to look into your eyes. Your cheeks were lightly dusted with pink, whether it was from pain or something else, Obi-Wan had no time to figure it out. He quickly looked back down and began cleaning the area. “This will sting, but it shouldn’t be too bad,” he warned, bacta patch in hand. “Says you,” you started before hissing at the contact. Burying you head into the crook of his neck, you gasped as the cooling agent began making its way through your shoulder, numbing it and making the pain slowly fade. “I told you,” Obi-Wan breathed, gliding his hand up and down your back.
His next target was the nasty shot that was present on your thigh. It was nasty, in Obi-Wan’s opinion. He cleaned the dirt a dried blood from it, unmoving each time your nails dug into his shoulder in pain. Once cleaned, Obi-Wan was able to really examine the damage. The hit went deep, multiple layers of skin had been burned and there was a spot that kept bleeding, so the bacta patch would have to come later. He looked up at your eyes from his knelt position, a knit between his brows. “We’ll have to get you some professional medical attention to this one, but I think I can stabilize it until we get there.” He said, grabbing gauze, bandages, and burn gel. A slight chuckle left your lips as you looked down at him, causing him to meet your eyes once again. “You mean you aren’t a doctor? Maker what else are you hiding?” You joked, placing a soft hand onto his shoulder to stabilize yourself. Obi-Wan’s cheeks flushed at the last statement, which didn’t go unnoticed by you. He quickly wrapped up your thigh and began taking out a small bandage for your chin.
“I’m sure I don’t need all that Obi-Wan,” you said, sitting up. He said nothing as he took out the bandage and swiftly hooked his fingers under your chin, lifting your head slightly so he could get to the small gash. Your face felt hot, a sudden flash from a sudden action. He quickly placed the bandage and lowered your chin slowly, thumb resting on the side of your chin. The air grew hot as you looked into his blue eyes, watching his pupils dilate and widen at thoughts that ran through his mind. You felt his other hand rest lightly on your hip, the one holding your chin moving up to cup your cheek. His breath fanned and mixed with your own as he leaned closer, stopping when your noses began to touch. You felt your lips part as your eyes fluttered closed, the action granting him permission to close the gap.
His lips felt soft against your own and moved in sync as you deepened the kiss. Every thought pertaining to the Jedi Order and its rules left your thoughts as you felt Obi-Wan move closer to you, wrapping his hand around your waist and pulling you close. You hummed and moved you hand into his soft auburn locks, messaging his scalp. A soft groan left his lips and you smiled into the kiss, pulling away shortly afterwards to breath. Obi-Wan rested his forehead against your own, smile spreading across his lips. “Well, now that that’s been settled, lets have a look at you, hm?” You said removing his own robe and tending to his wounds.
#obi wan star wars#star wars imagine#star wars#obi wan imagine#obi wan x y/n#obi wan spoilers#obi wan fanfiction#obi wan kenobi#star wars x reader#star wars x you
70 notes
·
View notes
Note
🍦 steddie pov outsider or really just anything soft?
🍦 – Send me a short prompt, get a Steddie ficlet
When you're a photographer, you tend to pick up on smaller details that others don't. Jonathan had always been the first among his peers to notice things, even from an early age. Though it got him in some hot water from time to time, he rather liked it about himself. He found it pretty cool that he was able to see the beauty in everything and pick up on life's little subtleties. It felt like a superpower of his. When surrounded by people smarter or more athletic than him, he liked having it - cherished it.
He never expected it, however, to make him the first to pick up on Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson dating.
He thought it was nothing at first. One day after school, when he was busy walking Nancy to her car, he noticed a very familiar red BMW parked out front and made an offhand comment to Nancy pondering why Steve would possibly be at school. Only Hellfire Club and basketball practice was going on, and he remembered Steve saying he never would step foot in that gym again unless Lucas had a game. She was quick to wave him off, saying he probably was there to pick up one of the kids, and Jonathan went with it. He stored away the information, wrapped his arm around her shoulders, and went on with his life.
He did not think about Steve or Eddie again until graduation. All of the soon-to-be graduates were sitting in the auditorium listening to their principal drone on about how they 'overcome a turbulent year of earthquakes' to graduate. Jonathan sat near the front thanks to alphabetical order, and without Nancy or anyone he was friends with to distract him, he took to scanning the crowd to pass the time. He smiled as he noticed his little brother, his mom, and Hopper prepared to film him walk with their video camera. He kept his smile as he watched the kids practically bouncing in their seats, ready to yell for their friends as they stepped on stage. What cost him his smile, though, was noticing where Steve sat. Steve, unlike the others, sat away from the group and toward the back. By his side was Wayne Munson. Jonathan had never met the guy, but he saw enough TV 'documentaries' about the earthquakes and how his hero nephew Eddie Munson 'came back from the dead' to save people from the catastrophe. He knew what the man looked like, and that was him. Frowning, he combed through his mind to figure out why Steve would rather sit with Wayne than the rest of the group.
His confusion grew even stronger when, after they finished walking the stage, Steve ran over to Eddie and gave him a massive hug.
He mentions it to Joyce later at the party's joint graduation celebration. She just shrugs, smiles, and says he's being a good friend. "It's like how Mike was when Will came back to us, sweetie. Steve is just looking out for him."
Jonathan doesn't say anything more, but feels a few more dots start to connect in his mind.
They do not all connect until a few months later. Everyone is gearing up to head off to their respective colleges, and to celebrate, Steve decided to hold a going away party of sorts at his home. It's his now, his parents too appalled by his choice not to attend college and the general chaos of Hawkins to ever move back, and as such, he likes to throw bashes from time to time to fill it with life. The entire party and their families flood the large home with love, excitement, and only a few tears. Jonathan is gazing softly at Nancy talking about Emerson when he notices their grand host slip away from the crowd, darting into a hallway.
It could have been to do a number of things, really. Playing host was hectic, and with so many people running around in one's home, Steve probably had loads to keep attentive to. However, there was something about the way he slipped out, about how his eyes scanned the crowd before darting toward the darkness of where he went, that told Jonathan this wasn't just some quick check on the pool or bathrooms. No, Steve was sneaking something. Jonathan's too-curious and partially anxious mind wanted to find out.
So, he quietly tells Nancy he'll be right back and makes his own casual slip out of the room. He does not go in the same direction as Steve, but he makes sure to end up near where he slipped away eventually so he can maybe catch a glimpse. Imagine his surprise when he finally does see him, pressed against a wall, Eddie Munson's mouth doing a number on his neck.
He freezes.
He meets eyes with Steve.
Steve freezes.
"Oh my god."
Steve and Eddie break apart instantly. A strong blush floods Eddie's face, while Steve looks three seconds from panicking. Jonathan's eyes flip between the two before finally settling on Steve as he opens his mouth.
"Please don't say anything."
Jonathan realizes Steve looks just as scared as he had been years ago, when the demogorgon broke through the ceiling of his old home, and pities him a bit. He also starts to feel pretty dang stupid for not realizing this sooner, given all the clues and his nagging gut feeling.
Just like Will and Mike. Yup. Thanks mom.
He shakes his head, willing himself to reply.
"I-I wasn't gonna'."
"Steve doesn't want to mention it to anyone yet," Eddie says softly, carefully, as if he is worried one wrong word will send Jonathan running to tell. "It's...it's new for us. And him. Please."
"I would never," Jonathan promises, hoping to everything he sounds sincere. "I...I wasn't trying to, ya' know, spy."
Steve locks eyes with him and shakes his head, a bit breathless where he stands. "I-I know, man. Just...how did you find us?"
"You looked really shifty when you left the room. I dunno, I guess I was wondering if something was going on." He pauses. "Something bad, or something."
"Not unless you think two guys doing what we were just doing is bad," Eddie huffs. Jonathan is quick to shake his head at that one, too.
"Not at all."
"So you'll keep quiet?"
Nodding, Jonathan makes sure to make eye contact with the two as he chokes out a yes. He notices instant relief flood over Steve. He notices the relief extend further to Eddie as soon as he notices Steve grow calm. It's kind of sweet, he must admit.
Awkward exchange coming to an end, Jonathan mumbles out some excuse about needing to go back to Nancy to make sure his mom hasn't talked her ear off about being college bound tomorrow and makes a break for the door. Just as the two boys go to embrace each other, relief turning into a need for extra comfort, Jonathan turns back and smiles.
"Oh by the way? I'm, uh, real happy for you guys. Glad you have each other."
Eddie beams over at him just above Steve's shoulder. Steve, on the other hand, rather shyly leans into Eddie before meeting Jonathan's gaze.
"Thanks, man."
And with that, he makes his leave, feeling a sort of comfort knowing the two will be in good hands when they all leave in the morning, and that maybe - just maybe - Steve's house won't be so quiet in their wake.
Want to participate in the 3k celebration? Send in a prompt from here!
#stranger things#jonathan byers#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie fanfic#stranger things ficlet#sidekick3k#steve x eddie#eddie x steve
44 notes
·
View notes
Text
Shibuya Meltdown- A Short Story
Synopsis: Kyoko is in the early stages of building her rebellion against the brutal Global Triad of Peace. Together with a new inductee, she heads to Shibuya Station Square for a rendezvous with an informant. Little does she know that her night was about to take a turn for the worse.
This story is part of A Different Universe, taking place in the Era of Darkness.
"Kyokoo, I don't get how you know where to go in this place," Kiki dashed to catch up with me.
"Don't worry," I smiled. "I've lived in Tokyo all my life and I still get lost down here."
Together, we began the ascent up the mammoth staircase and out into the sticky summer air. It had been the hottest in memory, but thankfully the late-night sky gave me some reprieve, breaking the air down into what could possibly be considered a chill for this time of year.
As we arrived at the top of the stairs, I took a careful scan of Station Square Plaza. Nobody was around but a homeless man passed out on a bench and a few clusters of what were probably college students getting ready to head home after a long Saturday night.
The contact was right; this was the perfect rendezvous point.
"Kyokoo, I don't see him," Kiki slouched forward, drooping her body toward the ground.
"He'll be here," I confirmed, lifting her back into a functional posture.
Whether I was assuring myself or her, I couldn't say.
Kiki may have been too impatient, impulsive, and aloof for her own good, but her heart was always in the right place. She'd make a great rebel. At least that's what I told Seto. It calmed his frustration just enough for me to convince him to let her join our cause. Unlike most, I could always seem to get Seto to budge. My baby-sister privileges seemed to trump his rocky shield of stubbornness.
When five minutes passed, and no new faces arrived in the plaza, I began to share in Kiki's anxiety.
"We definitely got the right spot?" she asked, nuzzling her head into my shoulder.
"2AM, Shibuya Station Square, Saturday, August 23rd; that's all the information Seto got for us," I confirmed.
"Maybe this guy got held up?" she asked quizzically.
"Guys like this don't get held up," I said.
Nervousness surged through my chest.
"Could we have missed him?" Kiki asked.
"We saw ourselves, nobody came into the plaza or left. Unless..."
Suddenly it hit me; nobody had moved from their spots at all.
"Kiki, get back down into the station, now!" I crossed my arm in front of her in a protective stance.
"Kyoko, what's going on?" she asked with concern.
The homeless man and the static clusters of college kids melted away. In their place appeared a man in the center of the square. He stood above a lifeless body as he cackled.
"Took you long enough! God I thought you were supposed to be smart," the man smiled.
"I've heard the rumors, but I didn't think you were real, Chameleon," I said, careful not to lower my guard. "After all, why the hell would a different work for the triad?"
"Simple, I don't have a death wish like you," he chuckled, sliding a knife out from his pocket.
"Kiki, get back to the safe house and warn John," I yelled, frustrated that she hadn't already left.
The safe house might very well already be compromised. If Chameleon had known about, and intercepted, our contact, then it would be likely one of our crew was a spy for the GTP. If the triad was sending fighters of this rank after us, John wouldn't stand a chance not having a difference. Seto was off on his mission in Hokkaido; there was no way he would make it back to Tokyo in time. At least, if there turned out to be trouble, and Kiki got there quick enough, she'd be able to protect John.
"Leave and miss taking down this asshole? No way!" Kiki chimed, frustrating me to no end.
Below her upbeat demeanor, I could tell the real reason she wanted to stay; she was afraid I'd lose this battle by myself.
"Ooooh, two against one! Now this will be fun," Chameleon smiled, licking his lips with his forked, reptilian tongue.
Kiki wasn't about to leave, and I wasn't about to leave her alone to face Chameleon herself. We'd have to take care of this quickly.
Chameleon dove toward me for a slash, but before he could even reach me he was knocked back into the pavement by a familiar pink claw. I turned to find Kiki had already fully unleashed her difference. A cloud of pink aura emanated from her, the front of which took the form of a giant cat.
Like a witch, she always called the cat her familiar. She named it Jiji, after some old movie she saw as a kid.
"That's a good boy Jiji," Kiki smiled, rubbing the head of the beast as it nuzzled into her.
"Sheena and Alphonse didn't warn me about the crazy cat lady," Chameleon smiled, spitting blood as he sat up. "Very impressive!"
He was working directly for the emperor's top two defenders; this was serious.
"If you go back to them now, nobody has to get hurt," I said, attempting to regain control over the situation.
"But that would take away all the fun!" Chameleon giggled, hoisting himself back into a standing position.
Channeling my strength, I propelled myself off my feet, hurtling toward Chameleon with my fist ready. Only there was no contact; I flew right through him. It took me a second to realize what that meant.
"Kiki, he's..."
"Already on it," Kiki chimed.
As the illusion around us began to melt away again, I turned to see Kiki running toward the subway entrance, in hot pursuit of Chameleon.
Pushing myself up from the ground, I quickly caught up in the chase.
"You know he's luring us into another trap, right?" I asked Kiki.
"Oh, of course!" Kiki chuckled. "But that's part of the fun, isn't it?"
Funnily enough, Kiki and Chameleon were quite alike; they would get along great if he wasn't a traitor to his own kind.
Thankfully it was late enough that the trains weren't running and the station was completely deserted. No civilians to worry about meant we could go all out.
We were approaching the train tracks of the Yongen-Jaya line when we caught up to Chameleon. He stood just in front of the tracks, blade drawn, smiling sinisterly.
"Kiki, make your familiar tangible for a minute, ok?" I asked, a plan blossoming in my head.
"But then he can get hurt!" Kiki whined like a child.
"Trust me, I won't let that happen," I said, putting my hand on her shoulder.
"Alright, I trust youuu," Kiki sighed, focusing her eyes on the cloudy pink beast ahead.
It suddenly began to take a more condensed form, the clouds dissipating just enough for the figure to become more solid. I took this opportunity to play out my idea, hopping onto the cat's back.
"Kiki, can you run with my weight on him too?"
"It'll be a bit harder but I think so!" she said, sticking her thumb up with an optimistic grin.
"Then let's get this asshole," I yelled.
As Kiki started running, her familiar and myself on its back started hurtling toward Chameleon, who was dashing toward us for another strike attempt.
He was quick, but not quick enough.
With his leap off the ground, my suspicions were confirmed. He was trying to hop over Jiji and I, and take out Kiki directly. Smart idea; too bad it wouldn't work.
I lept off the back of the beast, channeling all of my strength into my left fist. As it smashed into Chameleon's stomach, he flew back, crashing down onto the train tracks.
In the 25 years since I'd discovered my super strength, a punch of that level never failed to render its recipient out for the count.
With a scream, Chameleon slowly lifted himself up from the tracks into a sitting position. His ever-present smirk had transformed into an enraged frown.
"That hurt!" he snarled.
"That's the idea," Kiki said as I landed back on my feet.
"If you surrender, we'll let you walk out of here. You run back to your triad friends and tell them we mean business," I firmly proposed.
As Chameleon's coughs echoed through the subway tunnel, blood flowed out of his mouth, dripping down his pale chin. I felt a little bad; I had really fucked him up.
Chameleon continued to cough ferociously, not even attempting to come at us again, or stand up for that matter. I could have taken him out right then and there with even a quarter of the strength I used in my last attack, but I wasn't about to become a murderer. I wouldn't sink down to his level.
As Chameleon struggled to slide his way out of the light of the platform and into the darkness of the subway tunnel, I saw he was losing a lot of blood very fast. Without help, he would die very soon.
"You remember to bring that medpack?" I turned to Kiki in desperation.
"Yeah, but none of us are hurt," she replied with clear confusion.
Turning back to face Chameleon, I said "we can't just let him die."
"Ugh, why do you always have to be right?" Kiki sighed, tossing me the medpack as her familiar slithered its way back into her body.
Together, we hopped down onto the tracks, and quickly caught up with Chameleon, who was still sluggishly dragging himself deeper into the tunnel.
"Sit still," I said sharply as I began sifting through the medpack for the supplies I needed.
Ignoring me, he continued to push himself onward, trying desperately to get deeper into the tunnel.
"If you keep going, you're dead," I explained, but it was to no avail.
Why he was being so stubborn, I had no idea.
"Um, Kyoko?" Kiki said with worry in her voice.
"Can you help me get his shirt off so we can bandage him up?" I asked her.
I didn't have time to address whatever else she had to say at that moment.
"Kyoko..." Kiki said again, this time more worry in her voice.
That aura of concern snapped me out of my haze.
"What is it?"
"Listen," was all Kiki said in response.
That was when I heard it, the distant rumbling.
I looked down the tunnel to see a pair of glowing yellow lights in the distance, etching closer and closer with each passing second.
"Fuck, we need to go now," I said, stuffing the contents of the medpack into my pockets for quick access following our escape.
The horn of the train began blaring. It was going much faster than a station-approaching train should ever be.
"I don't understand; the train doesn't run after midnight!" Kiki yelled.
"No time to discuss the shitty train schedule; help me get him up," I shouted back at Kiki over the thunderous rumbling.
There wasn't enough time; we had seconds.
"Shit!" I yelled in defeat.
Wrapping one arm around Kiki, I held the other out forward, ready to block the train. I didn't know if I had enough strength to be successful, but it was the only shot we had.
The blaring engulfed us as contact came, only I felt nothing.
"Oh not again!" I realized out loud as the train faded away in both sound and appearance.
When the train finished disappearing, I looked ahead at the tunnel to find that Chameleon had also vanished.
"Well," I said, turning back to Kiki. "Let's get back to the safe house; hopefully the GTP doesn't know about it yet and John is safe.
As we made our way out of the station, and back into the fresh summer air, I saw that the body of our contact was gone. Was he an illusion the whole time, or had Chameleon taken him for some reason?
"I have a feeling Chameleon is going to give us a whole lot of trouble from here on out," I said.
"Ok... but wasn't he sooo hot though?" Kiki chuckled.
"What the fuck Kiki, that guys a monster!" I yelled in disbelief.
"Yeah, but would you not?" she giggled.
"I wouldn't," I replied firmly.
"Oh come on, don't lie, you so would," Kiki said as we began our trek back to the safe house.
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
<Enemies to lovers>
<Finale Part 2 <Finale> ______________________________________
Summary:
You and wilbur have hated eachother for years but something happens to give you a change of heart.
Tw: cursing, kissing, mentions of stabbing
Genre: fluff
Word count: 1,399
-------------------------------------
...your hands were wrapped around wilbur as he pushes you away, sadness filled your eyes as he stares at you with dissapointment.
"Y/n we can't do this anymore!" His hands flared in the air, as you flinch backing away slowly.
"But i love you!" You say quietly but loud enough for wilbur to hear.
"Well I dont!" He yelled, a stream of tears starts running down your face as you storm out of the apartment, opening the door and slamming it shut... you hear a loud buzz, as you look around confused. The loud ring keeps going on and on until you wake up gasping, your heart was beating fast as you took a couple of deep breaths. You rub your eyes then get up from your bed, you do your morning routine then go to the kitchen. Usually Niki picked you up for college but she couldn't today, you sighed making your cereal.
This time you checked your bag for everything you needed, checking mostly every pocket. Once you were done you threw it around your shoulder, you walked over to the door unlocking it. Walking out, you look at your phone getting your bus ticket ready. You make your way to the bus stop then stand there, the bus stops making a creaking noise.
Getting your phone you walk up the stairs onto the bus, you show the driver the bus ticket he nods then you go to take your seat. Then you hear a voice from behind you,
"Didn't expect you to be here..?" Wilbur looks at you expecting an answer
"Oh- yeah Niki couldn't pick me up today" you nod trying not to remember the dream, you look away then he speaks again.
"Hey, look im sorry about me teasing you all these years.." his face was serious but there was softness in his voice. Your heart twists, but you only give him a short reply.
"Yeah- I'm sorry too.." you couldn't help but smile as you search his face for some sort of emotion, but all there was is sympathy. You frown looking away as the bus stopped at the college, a couple of kids get off including you and wilbur.
You catch Niki walking into the college then you start walking faster catching up to her
"Niki wait up!" You call after her hoping for an answer, Niki turns around her face red with a couple of tears running down her cheek. You run over to her worried,
"Is everything okay!?" You say hugging her, she sniffles as she buries her face into your shoulder.
"Its okay.. you can tell me when your ready" your voice was gentle but it was shook- <Niki never cries! What could have hurt her this much> you though anxiously. She stops hugging you then she faces you,
"Im- moving away.." her voice trembled, you stared at her with wide eyes. You shook your head <no- this can't be true...> a tear skips down your face.
"But..everything we've been through together you're just going to leave me!" You cry out feeling as if a knife had just stabbed you.
"I'm moving back to Germany to see my family.." Niki had stopped crying but she looked at you if it was her last time.
"Are we ever going to see eachother again?" You voice cracked as your trembled your hand was shaking.
"I..don't know" Niki was unsure of the question too.
"Oh niki..just promise we'll always stay in contact and stay friends.." you look at her but there was doubt in Niki's face..
"Promise.." Niki spoke quietly..as you both walk to class in silence. The day goes by quick as you and niki finally reach the end of last period, now you're next to her car hugging and crying, you're eyes were swollen and you're face was dull. As soon as Niki was in her car you called out
"Goodbye!" As you cried. You tried looking for more words as she drove by you're heart broke seeing her leave like that. You put your hood up, putting earbuds in and listening to lovejoy, you walk to your apartment taking about 20 minutes crying most of the time and letting your mind be filled with the memories with Niki.
You shuffle in your pocket for your key as you reach your apartment door and then you search for your key in your bag. <sh!t I left my key inside> you think, letting out a cry of distress your back hits the cement wall your back slowly dragging down it until your sitting on the cold cement.
You start to break down crying your mind Drifting into a sleep until something shakes you,
"Y/n!" Wilbur calls
"Y/n wake up!" He repeats, you shake your head blinking a couple of times. You stare at him your face still swollen. He looks at you worried
"Are you okay?" He asks you shake your head,
"What are you doing outside!?" He anxiously glanced at the door to your apartment then to you again.
"Key, inside; locked out" you mumble your mind still half asleep.
"Do you want to stay at my place" he stares at you with the moon behind him as all the stars gazed down at you. You nod, as he picks you up walking to his car he places you Into the front seat.
As he sits down he starts up the car, and that was the last thing you heard as you hear him drive off; your mind turns blank as you drift off to sleep.
..you grab the blanket then turn to the other side, you open your eyes confused as the room and this bed was not yours. Looking around you see wilbur in the other room, remembering that he had picked you up last night. You struggle to put sit yourself up, as your body feels weak.
You fix your hair then get out of the bed; you stand up your legs shaking a little bit- you finally get steady then you walk into the room where wilbur was. There he was sitting on the couch, you take your place beside him.
"Good morning," his voice had softness in it.
"Good morning..." you respond almost falling asleep again.
"So- what was that about..? Why didn't you call somebody..?" He spoke sounding worried.
"Oh..about that" your voice shook as if you were almost about to cry.
"Sorry I didn't mean to upset you.." he glanced at you anxiously.
"No- I don't exactly have anybody to call..."
"What about niki..?" He quickly responded. The silence fills the room at the mention of niki.
"Yeah, about her" your voice fills in the silent room, instead your voice rings across the walls. Then your speak again,
"Well..she isn't here anymore." You turned to him tears filling your eyes.
"Oh I'm so sorry about nik- sh!t; I'm sorry" he looked at you as a couple of tears rolled down your face. He moves closer to you then hugs you, as you hug him back.
"Wait- don't we have school!" You jump up suddenly. Wilbur glances at you,
"I'm not sure you're to fit to go to class" he spoke with a worried edge to it.
"I'll be fine" you snapped as he flinched, mumbling an apology.
--------------------------------------
<a couple of weeks go by and you both start getting on really well>
--------------------------------------
"Wil! Where are you!" You called out in the park, you start walking around as wilbur suddenly comes out from behind you.
"Boo!" He taps you on the shoulders from behind, you spin around screaming.
"Don't do that!" You frown but then it starts turning into a laugh. Wilbur smiles then hugs you,
"Here- follow me!" He grabs your wrist bringing you to a flower garden with a large, white, water fountain. You look around amazed,
"It- it looks so beatiful!" You look around as wilbur smiles at you.
"Y/n..I have been liking you for a while now..." he speaks slowly then he finishes
"Y/n will you be my <your pronouns>" he smiles at you then you stare at his brown eyes feeling as if you could get lost in them.
"Of course!" You and wilbur go for a hug then he kisses you.
"I love you so much.." his voice was gentle.
"I love you too..."
#Spotify#Wilbur x reader#Wilbur soot x reader#wilbur x y/n#dsmp#wilbur soot x y/n#wilbur soot#wilbur#fluff#love#wilbur soot x reader#cc!wilbur#dsmp x y/n#dsmp x you#wilbur x you#wilbur soot x you#wilbur soot dsmp#dsmp wilbur soot#y/n#you x#mcyt#mcyt x reader#mcyt x you#mcyt x y/n#dsmp x reader#wilbur soot fluff#wilbur fluff#cut#mcyt fanfic#mcyt fanfiction
16 notes
·
View notes
Text
She stood up and ran back to the cottage. She knew she needed to stay focused and just help her dad as much as she could. Even if she has to sacrifice her time she wanted to be here for her dad. He was already doing enough, now he has to raise her alone and homeschool her all by himself, she was going to make it as easy as it could for him.
'If I just work hard, focus on passing school, and helping dad that will change things, that will make them better.' she thought to herself almost half believing it even. 'I can't just play and explore all day.. it's not how people live here.' she continued. 'I have to be reasonable.'
She threw the sliding door open and put on her tutu, she noticed a ballet bar when they moved in just outside of her room. She threw her hair up into a slick bun and pinned it securely. 'It's time to start living in the real world, Freya.'
'I'll make my dad proud, and I'll make sure he feels less alone. I know he has to be taking this hard. I have to plan for the future and focus on school work. I need to plan for college and get ready for life to begin. Maybe even be a pro ballerina!'
She threw herself into her ballet training and made sure to have every move beautifully mastered.
Ezequiel noticing she was only outside for 20 minutes, completely unlike her.
"Hey, are you going to explore some more?" he asked.
"I don't have time to anymore. I need to plan for my future and focus on what I can to for us now." she responded strained.
"Okay, I supposed I can allow that," he said sarcastically, "What would you like for dinner?"
"I'm fine." she said
He stared and watched her do a few moves and waited for a chuckle or sarcastic remark back. He figured and hoped it was just a little mood change from everything.
A few weeks later he returned home from the store.
"Hey, kiddo, I got your favorite things from the store." Ezequiel said.
"What is it?" she asked looking up from her homework that she had been flying through.
"Oh, well, I got you some of those gummies you like and I bought you that movie with the cartoon girls in it who save their school." he said.
"I don't have time for that stuff, I'm almost done with this years coursework, and I still have to practice ballet, then tend to the garden." she said dully.
Ezequiel was quite confused and sad to see such a quick change in his daughter. "Is everything okay?"
"Fine." she said.
"I understand that things are really bad at the moment, and I'm sorry, but you can't just 180 on me like that." he said, begging for some sort of reaction from her.
"I need to be here." she said quickly. And filled in the last answer in the booklet, "I need to get ready for bed. I have things I need to do tomorrow." she was quiet after that and walked into her room.
Ezequiel heard the bath water start and felt a really sad cloud come over him. "This isn't right." he said to himself.
/2 days later/
"Why doesn't this stupid thing just let me submit my work?!" she yelled impatiently at the computer.
Ezequiel walked in and said "Well what are you trying to do, kiddo?"
"I want to submit my work for this online book competition and it won't let me enter it!" she threw her hands up frustrated.
Ezequiel leaned in to see what was on the screen, it was going to have her fill out information like their address and such. "Well, honey, I don't want you to put this information in the computer anyways. It could jeopardize our safety." he explained calmly.
"Oh great, I just almost put us in more danger as usual!" she cried out.
He watched her sob in the computer chair, unsure of how comfort her.. 'What do I say? How do I tell her?'. All he could do is put his hand on her shoulder, he felt how hot she was and realized she must have a fever.
She started sweating and crying, Ezequiel picked her up and threw in a cool bath to lower her temperature. She was still crying, but her temp went down. He picked her up and laid her down in bed.
"You need to rest Freya, you're overworking yourself. I need you here, but I need you, too.." he looked at her red face and flicked her nightlight on.
"I'm sorry.." she said, drifting to sleep.
He snapped the overhead light off. 'I can't do this alone..' he thought to himself.
"Good day, Ezequiel, I hope you found your trip here a much more pleasant one. How are you and young Freya?" the Queen asked, greeting him at the gateway this time.
He smiled, appreciating her taking the time to greet him. "I did, I see Speio is getting the portal spell down better?" Ezequiel said, kind of guessing.
The Queen laughed, "Something like that. Come let us catch up on the terrace I wish to hear all about Freya!"
They both made their way through the castle and up the stone staircase. It led to a beautiful outdoor garden with books, and seating.
"So tell me, Ezequiel, how have things been with you and Freya?" she asked.
Ezequiel looked at the Queen a bit more closely this time, she looked much more awake and rested. She even seemed to be glowing a bit as well.
"Why don't you tell me how you've been? You seem much better than last time." he asked.
"I am quite well actually, the darkness hasn't been as active, and I've been able to almost pinpoint where Sigrid is. I feel as though things might actually be looking up for us." she was smiling this time.
"Well, I am relieved to hear that, Queen," he hesitated "Wait, you found Sig?"
"I have an idea of where she is, her life force became a bit more clear to me. I can feel her in a certain area within your Realm." she said.
"Where? Which town? Please, tell me anything?" he pleaded.
"I'm sorry, but at the moment it is not very clear. I know she is in your Realm though." she looked down as though she couldn't speak on it anymore.
Ezequiel read her body language, he's been getting better at that lately, "However, things have been not-so-good for us." he continued.
Ezequiel watched the Queens face drop, "Please explain, Ezequiel?" Amnestria pleaded.
"I can't really put my finger on it, but my daughter is not acting like herself anymore. She doesn't go outside and play, she doesn't joke around with me, and she doesn't seem to enjoy herself at all anymore." he said looking at the Queen hoping there would be some sort of answer.
"I see.." she said quietly. She looked down at her hands for a moment, which were noticeably less rough since last time, too,"Perhaps, the reason the darkness is fading isn't because of anything Good. It may even be bad that this is happening. Freya maybe shutting the power down within her."
"How do I fix that?" Ezequiel asked.
"Being there for her is one thing, but are you sure *you* are there with *her*?" she looked back at him and it was like he forgot that even though he was hiding how he was feeling, he never thought what Freya may be hiding.
"You're right.. I guess I didn't realize that while I may be hiding my pain, she may be hiding hers as well.." he felt guilty, just because she doesn't bawl her eyes out every day doesn't mean she isn't grieving. It struck a cord in him because it's not like she need to be grieving, Sig is alive and almost found. It wasn't fair to Freya.
"She needs someone to remind her that she can still enjoy life, while missing her mother." the Queen said, almost finishing his thought. "She's allowed to miss her mother, that's at least fair if she can't know the truth for the time being. And we need the world to continue on if she loses her imagination completely I may even cease to exist at some point.. even Sigrid."
/POOF/
"EVEN ME!" Speio popped into the conversation.
The Queen looked at him annoyed, but smiled, "Eavesdropping isn't becoming, Speio."
Ezequiel laughed, he actually couldn't imagine what he would be thinking or feeling if he hadn't figured out how to find these guys. He knew he had to fix things, he can't let pain that can be relieved so easily and so soon drag on. Sigrid will be home soon and he can stop longing to even catch a glimpse of her.
Ezequiel smiled and said, "Thank you. I actually needed this." The dynamic made him feel at home.. that's probably why he knew he was safe here.
The Queen smiled and looked at Speio, who was beaming back at her. "We've become quite fond of you as well, Ezequiel." she said.
"Would I be able to ask your name, Queen? You say name an awful lot and I don't even know yours." Ezequiel asked.
"My name is Amnestria Magvaris. I am a healing elf, and I use spiritual shielding from our previous high priests. It is taught to each generation in my family." she explained.
"Thank you, Speio, Amnestria. I'm happy I have a friend in both of you." he said.
"Come," Amnestris said smiling "We must get you back home, so you can be there for young Freya!'
Ezequiel and Speio both get up and follow the Queen.
The Queen was talking on and on about how Freya needed feel better in order for things to go back to a balance.
Speio whispered to Ezequiel, "I know where to find Sigrid.."
Ezequiel a bit shocked, "I thought something like that might be classified?"
"Sometimes I find it in me to do the right thing, and there are rules on what is allowed, I was given no instructions on this one." he said smirking.
"I see, when and where do we start?" Ezequiel said, mustering up courage to go against whatever it is that may have his wife.
"We can talk tonight, I'll meet you at the forest line. I want to help." he said.
"You better believe I'll be there." Ezequiel whispered back.
"What are you two whispering about back there?" Amnestria said looking over her shoulder at them.
If looks could kill..
"I was trying to pester Speio about the gateway spell.. thing." Ezequiel spat out defending him quickly.
Speio smiled sheepishly at the Queen, her face seemed unmoved, but she turned and kept walking forward.
Ezequiel stayed quiet the rest of the walk back. He knew that Amnestria was definitely listening now if she wasn't before. Speio also just stared forward and didn't speak.
They made their way through the double doors and down the long pathway to the castle. They didn't really need to take him that far.
"Thank you for walking me here, I appreciate that." Ezequiel said.
"Well you did say that I should have greeted you myself last time?" she asked confused.
Ezequiel smiled, he understood why Sig took everything so literally now, too.
"Farewell, Ezequiel, until next time." she looked hard at Speio. "Why are you just standing there?"
"To make sure he gets home safely.." Speio smiled and bowed his head trying to hide his expression.
"Very well. Goodnight." she walked away and disappeared into the darkness. Ezequiel and Speio both watched her and waited.
"I will meet you at the forest line at 11:33 Human time." Speio said to Ezequiel he stared at him very seriously.
"Wait, how do you know when that is for me?" Ezequiel asked, puzzled since his phone never said anything other than 5:45 am.
"You only know how to tell Human time, to explain our time is different. It's classified for you, but to *try* to explain it: your black mirror there is not programmed to tell our time like you weren't taught how to." Speio responded.
Ezequiel thought that was an interesting perspective, that was the kind of question Freya used to ask when she was younger 'Daddy, how do you tell time in the mermaid world?' that question rang in his head. And now what Sigrid's note said even made sense. 'She can transcend to other dimensions and Realms'.
Ezequiel smiled, "Thanks for a straight answer for once."
That fizzing sound that started to become all too familiar started happening and everything went black.
He opened his eyes and he was outside of his home- luckily they lived in a secluded area with no neighbors. He looked around just to be sure, and of course there was no one.
'11:33' he thought to himself, 'Just remember 11:33'.
He walked in and Freya was in her room, so he took the opportunity to go downstairs and read another book from the shelf. He snagged a green one with a sword on it and made his way back upstairs he wanted to talk to Freya when she came out of her room.
He opened the book and right as he was about to start reading Freya came in.
"Oh hey, you are home." she said.
Ezequiel closed the book and said, "Yes, I'm home and I have some things I need to say to you. I know that your mom's disappearance was hard on you, just like it was on me. And you're allowed to miss her, but where is Freya? This isn't the girl we raised?"
Freya's eyes dropped to the floor and tears just rolled down her face. "I need to be more like mom then you won't be so sad and you won't miss her so much. She didn't like me doing exploring or anything like that so I'm going to do what she wanted me to do."
"You do realize that, you are you, and your mother is who she is. You can't replace someone solely because you miss them, then you lose who are and no one wants to see Freya disappear. I love you because you have a fun imagination and make life more interesting with the questions you ask. You can miss mom as much as you want, but leave room for yourself when you aren't doing what makes you happy it drains you. You can still enjoy the things you like despite her not liking what you were doing she still loved you for you, not if you were someone else. You'll make her proud in whatever choices you make." Ezequiel had more to say, but he stopped. Freya was crying. He got up and hugged her tight.
"You don't have to try to replace your mom for me to be happy, because I can't miss you *and* your mom. Then what would I do?" he said holding her while she cried.
All she could do was sob on his shoulder and when she let go she wiped her tears. Looked up at him and said, "Well are you gonna tell me where the heck have you been all day? I was so bored!" she smiled.
Ezequiel said, "Well I had to go exploring myself, and I gotta say maybe I should it more often."
She looked inquisitively at her father, "Exploring, hmm? Did you find anything fun?"
He pretended to ponder as if he had no idea where he actually went this morning. He decided the truth would make for a different conversation and said, "Well, I did find a hybrid elf/dryad guy. He's not the best with magic though so he's more trouble than anything."
She looked at him like she believed him, then smirked and said, "Yeah right, you wouldn't find one just walking around *here*."
A little baffled by her oddly correct answer he smiled at her. There she is.
#freya greene#mystery#sims 4 screenshots#suspense#sims 4 story#thriller#disappearance#unexpected expectations
0 notes
Text
NICE.
+ pairings: eren yeager + (fem) reader
+ genres: rich kid au, college au, friends to lovers au, fluff, light-ish angst, smut/nsfw content (everybody gets a piece)!
+ warnings: mentions of depression/anxiety, mentions and use of drugs and alcohol, some of the smut happens under the influence so be cautious if that’s something you don’t like, i swear this is all more idiots in love than angst tho i just wanna disclose everything fairly
+ notes: this is alternatively titled super rich kids and you can probably figure out why. some of this is based off of real life, some of it is straight out of gossip girl and i challenge you to separate the facts from the fiction :’) anyways, i hope we all remember the lyrics to in my feelings
+ more notes: one quick reference for ages in this fic—all the vets are older but not by that much, think various stages of grad school. armin, connie, sasha, annie, and bertholdt are all college sophomores. eren, the reader, and pretty much everybody else are college seniors, so they’re about a year or two older. also here is a playlist for your reading pleasures, shoutout to ryn for letting me mooch of their spotify account :’)
+ word count: 19k. i’m sorry.
+ summary: fuck you, fuck you, you’re cool, fuck you.; or the story of notorious rich kid and self-proclaimed bad boy eren yeager, and his not so goody two-shoes best friend.
“So you’re saying that you don’t love me? That you’re not riding? That you’ll actually leave from beside me?”
“I’m saying that it’s ass o’clock in the morning and I’m not driving in the rain to Brooklyn to pick your sorry ass up.”
“But… but I want you, and I need you, and I’m down for you.”
You check the time on your phone screen and groan. 3:57am. Far too early to be dealing with the likes of Eren Jaeger. “Just get an Uber or something. I don’t know what you and your idiot friends were up to this time, but I don’t want any part of it.”
“First, they’re our idiot friends. Second, I don’t think they let you take Ubers from jail, and even if they did, it’s, like, four in the morning, so I don’t think there are any Ubers driving around, so could you pretty please come pick me up? I promise I’ll make it up to—”
“From where?” you cut him off, slowly sitting upright in your bed. You hold your phone closer to your ear, ready to listen again; because, certainly, you must have misheard him the first time. You wait, but the line is silent, save for Eren’s awkward chuckling. “Eren Asher Jaeger, tell me that that was another stupid lyric from that stupid song, and that you are not in prison right now.”
Eren makes a sad attempt at laughing. “Technically, it’s a holding cell, not really prison… and I would leave, but they suspended my license for a month, and Min can’t drive yet, so we kind of need you,” he explains, “Uh, no pun intended.”
“Min?” you pull your eyebrows together at the mention of the younger’s name, “Is Armin with you?”
“Uh, yeah.”
With a frown and a heavy sigh, you push yourself out of bed, wedging your phone between your shoulder and your ear as you grab the nearest pair of sweatpants.
“Why did you get him caught up in whatever stupid shit you were doing tonight?” you complain, scanning your dark bedroom for a shirt to wear, “Erwin’s going to castrate you when he finds out.”
You curse as you stub your toe against the edge of your bed on your way out of the room. Given the time, weather, and the fact that you have several exams to start studying for, hanging up and leaving Eren in the middle of god knows where Brooklyn doesn’t seem like such a bad idea, but you couldn’t go back to sleep knowing that Armin would have to suffer with him.
“Relax,” Eren breathes in a tone all too nonchalant for the situation at hand, “He didn’t get charged with anything, and nothing’s going on his record.”
“You don’t know that,” you retort, sliding your raincoat over your free arm, as you paddle down the stairs of your apartment, “The NYPD suck.”
“True,” he hums, “But I paid off the cop, so it’ll be fine.”
You pause in your steps, but really, you shouldn’t be surprised. “Of course you did,” you mumble, moving again and grabbing your car keys off of the kitchen island.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he questions. His tone is actually genuine and it tempts you to roll your eyes.
“What it always means, Eren,” you sigh, stepping into the elevator, “I’ll be there in thirty minutes.”
“Thank you, baby. I love you.”
“Eren?”
“Yeah?”
“Get off my line.”
He doesn’t have time to throw in another pitiful “I love you” before the line goes dead and he’s met with static silence. He hangs up the station telephone with a silent chuckle, turning around to face Armin and Officer Hannes.
“Someone’s coming to pick us up,” he says, trying to focus on Armin’s sigh of relief and not the warmth creeping up his neck and into his cheeks, “I’ll, uh, call a tow for the car in the morning.”
The cop, too tired to care, only shrugs, and pays them no further attention. He hands Eren a plastic bag with his car keys and newly suspended license, escorts him back into the cell, and returns to his desk. Eren gives Hannes the finger while his back is turned.
Beside him, Armin is still quivering; bouncing his leg up and down, fiddling with his fingers, gnawing on his bottom lip. Eren frowns, a heavy wave of guilt washing over him as he takes in the younger’s anxiety ridden state. It wasn’t fair that Armin could have potentially suffered legal consequences because of his stupidity.
Eren’s lucky that Hannes was sleazy enough to accept his bribe and let him off with minimal punishment. With that they were doing, things could have ended up far worse for the both of them tonight.
“I’m sorry, man,” he apologizes, hands stuffed in his front pockets, “About tonight, I mean. We—I shouldn’t have done that, not with you there.”
Armin looks up at him with sparkling, doe eyes and Eren wants to punch himself in the gut for making him go through all of this, even if it didn’t amount to an actual arrest. “You couldn’t have known this was going to happen.”
“I could have prevented it,” he says. Because it’s what you would have said, too.
“It’s not your fault, I wanted to come, remember?” Armin tells him, redirecting his gaze to the grey floor of the precinct cell. He takes a deep breath, almost calming down completely when a sudden thought reignites his nervous ticks, “You… they’re not gonna tell my parents, right?”
“No, no—of course not.”
Armin was legally an adult; he, nor Eren, nor the police had to tell his parents anything. Sure, Hannes could rat them out, but honestly that sounded like way more work than he was cut out for; not to mention he’d be bound to reveal that he let them off easy for a couple thousand bucks.
Armin nods, “And… that wasn’t Erwin on the phone, right?”
“Are you kidding me? He’d murder me on the spot,” Eren says. He pauses before tacking on, “I, uh… I called (_____).”
“Oh,” the younger gapes, “She’ll kill you, too.”
“Yeah,” Eren sighs, scratching the back of his neck in nervous anticipation, “Trust me, I know.”
“You have your access card on you, right, Armin?” you ask. He nods sheepishly, hand on the car door handle.
“Thanks again for coming to get us,” he says meekly, “I’m sorry about waking you up and everything.”
You offer him a warm smile through the rear view mirror, “Don’t worry about it, I’m just glad you’re safe. Text me when you get up tomorrow, okay? We can get brunch, my treat.”
His face lights up at the prospect of free food, and he nods once more, enthusiastically, but his expression falls again when he speaks, “Okay, and I’ll, um, pay you back for the tickets and stuff as soon as I can—”
“It’s fine, really, don’t worry about it,” you repeat.
“It was almost three thou—”
“You forget who you’re friends with,” you cut him off with a smile, “Don’t worry about it, okay? It wasn’t your fault.”
Armin’s eyes dart to Eren quickly, before clearing his throat, a light pink tint to his cheeks. You know that the prospect of money can be a sensitive subject for Armin, one easily triggered by his very environment, but this wasn’t negotiable on your end. You know that Armin doesn’t like the feeling of owing anyone anything, but he knows he won’t get you to budge; so, he quietly nods, appreciative of your generosity, before bidding you and Eren a final goodnight and sprinting towards the dorm. Once you see that he’s safely inside, you wave one last time, and wait for the door to shut behind him.
Slowly, Eren turns to the driver’s seat to look at you. You were eerily calm when you came to pick him and Armin up from the station. You didn’t yell, cuss, or punch him in the face like he expected. You politely talked to the officer, thanked him for his service, paid their fees, and up until now, you’ve shown no signs of being angry with him at all.
The two of you drive back to your shared apartment in complete silence, Eren too confused, and borderline scared, of initiating a conversation. He wonders if you’re too tired, or if you really don’t give a damn anymore, but when you pull into the underground lot of your building and put the car in park, he finds out the silence was simply the calm before the storm.
You take your hand off of the gear shift and turn towards him. It’s a quiet stare down for nearly a full minute before you break the mime act with a slap to his thigh.
“Drag racing? Are you out of your fucking mind? Of all the stupid shit you’ve done—and you’ve done a lot of stupid shit—this has got to take the cake. Just what the actual fuck were you thinking?”
“Ouch!” he inhales sharply, rubbing over where you’d hit him, “We were just having fun! Then these other guys showed up and started talking shit so—”
“Having fun?” you echo, “You couldn’t think of anything fun to do that’s not illegal in every borough of New York City?”
Eren feels his cheek flush, but he only huffs with the illusion of disinterest, “I don’t know why you’re freaking out so bad. I’m a good driver, it was those other squids that got us into shit, I’m telling you. They showed up looking for a fight, then ran like a bunch of pussies when the cops came.”
You exhale slowly, shaking your head in disbelief. You seem to have no other words to say to him, choosing to step out of the car and slam the door behind you. Eren quickly follows, slamming his door equally as hard, and hot on your trail as you march towards the elevator.
“(_____), come on, enough with the silent treatment,” he whines when you stick yourself in a corner of the elevator after pushing the button to the penthouse, “I told you I didn’t start shit, Armin and I got ratted on.”
“I couldn’t give a rat’s ass about whether or not they started it, Eren. You’re still the problem here.”
“Me? How am I the problem?” he pulls back, eyebrows drawn together in genuine confusion, “I just told you I didn’t do shit.”
You scoff, crossing your arms and shifting your left leg, “I’m not doing this with you right now.”
“Doing what with me?” he presses, tone growing icy.
“This, Eren!” you reiterate, “I’m too tired to hear your bullshit right now.”
The elevator dings and opens into your apartment. You push past him, continuing your deliberate strides through the living area, and to the stairs, but Eren catches you with a hand on your wrist before you can go any further.
“Will you fucking stop that,” he growls, “If you’ve got something to say, then stop running away from me, and just say it.”
“Funny,” you sneer, pulling your wrist away from him and settling both your feet on the bottom step, “You’re one to talk about running away from things.”
He takes a step back, standing just a notch below you, perfectly frozen in place. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means your little drag racing episode was not only dangerous and immature, it was you running away from your problems like a spoiled child, yet again.”
Eren’s features narrow at your accusations; eyes fading into hooded slits, lips curving downwards, and voice bobbing low, “I’m not running away from anything.”
“Oh, please, Eren,” you roll your eyes, arms retreating to their crossed position in front of your chest, “Cut the bullshit.”
“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.” But he bets that even in the dim lighting of the apartment, you can see the tips of his ears growing red, just like they always do when he’s lying.
“Oh, really?” you ask, eyes widening in mock surprise, “You don’t think I don’t know this whole thing has something to do with the fact that your mom came home on Friday?”
Another pause. “Who told you that?” He asks, but it comes out more like a statement.
“Nobody had to,” you snap, “Jean said he caught you with a sack of coke over the weekend, and I knew something was up.”
“It wasn’t mine, I was—”
“I said cut the shit, Eren. If I went up into your room right now I bet your ass I’d find more than enough of it in a shoebox somewhere.”
He retreats, almost bashful, but unapologetic all the same. “Fine, whatever, I did a few lines. Big deal.”
“The big deal is that you think this is fucking normal, and now you’ve upgraded from coke to getting yourself arrested! It’d be one thing if you were acting like a misfit on your own, but to drag Armin into it because you—”
“Drag him into it?” he echoes with the snare of sarcasm dripping from each syllable, “You talk about Armin like he’s six. I don’t know why you think he’s some helpless little baby, but you have no goddamn responsibility over him. He’s not your fucking charity case.”
“I never fucking said he’s my charity case—don’t you ever fucking say that,” you say, “Having some basic respect and concern for my friends isn’t charity.”
“Wake the fuck up! You baby Armin when he’s a grown ass man. I didn’t force him into the fucking car to get sympathy points from you.”
“Grown? Armin is barely nineteen, disowned by his parents, is on a full fucking ride to an insanely expensive university, and you got him arrested tonight! Do you know what could happen if NYU found out? They could fucking kick him out, take his scholarship away—and then what, huh? Or were you just gonna buy off the headmaster, too?”
“You’re acting like I fucking planned for it!”
He’s screaming now, voice bellowing throughout the apartment, face red—and he doesn’t mean to, he doesn’t mean it at all; but it’s late, and he’s tired, and those shouldn’t be excuses, but he’s too prideful to back down.
“Of course you didn’t! You didn’t plan for anything, you were just being a reckless, irresponsible asshole like always,” you tell him, too blind-sighted by anger and the need to chide him that you miss the teary undertones in his words.
“And what’s it matter to you?”
“It fucking matters to me when you call at some godforsaken hour asking me to pick you up from prison!”
He takes a step forward, right leg elevated by the same step that both your feet rest on. “Well, what else am I supposed to fucking do!” He shouts even though he’s mere inches from your face, “Tell me just what the fuck I’m supposed to do instead!”
“You’re supposed to act like an adult and fucking talk to someone!”
“Who the hell am I supposed to talk to, huh?” he presses, taking a step forward and forcing you to retreat backwards, and up a step, “My mother who’s never home or her bastard boyfriend?”—another step forward for him, another step backwards for you—“The step-brother I can’t get in contact with?”—one step forward; one step backwards—“Or maybe the dad I never had, right?”
“Me, Eren!” you yell back with equal vigor, throwing your hands up at your sides, and planting your feet firmly. “Armin, Mikasa, Jean—anyone! You have people who fucking care about you! Stop treating us like correction officers, we’re your fucking friends!”
There’s silence for a while, just you and Eren staring at each other, heavy breathing, waiting for the other to make the next move. He opens his mouth, but when he tries to speak, his resolve washes away, his throat tightens and the words get sucked back in.
It would be easy to keep yelling, screaming, blaming you for blowing up on him. He used to think the scolding he got from you after pulling some stupid stunt was the worst part; but now, he thinks it might be his favorite part. He hates to hear you scream, and it hurts to see you cry, but if you’re yelling, you’re angry that he hurt himself; you care that he’s okay.
“I—” he stutters, words quiet and broken, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for it to get like this tonight, it was an accident I—”
“You never mean for any of it to happen, yet it always does,” you interrupt, voice soft yet strained, “I know you have your own shit to deal with, but so does everybody else.”
“(_____), please, you’re right, okay? I should have said something before,” he admits, mouth small as he voices his confessions, “I should have talked to you or one of the boys, but I—I don’t know what else you want me to say.”
He’s groveling now. Mouth in pout, eyes wide, voice small, and honestly, he thinks he might cry. At this point he doesn’t care if he does.
“I want you to mean it,” you finally say, and when he looks up, he hates the look he sees in your eyes. It’s something between sad and hurt and empty and it’s awful. Someone like you shouldn’t feel that way. He shouldn’t make you feel that way.
“I—”
“When you’re ready to tell me exactly what’s going on with you—what’s happening that made you think going to jail would be better than facing your issues—I’ll be here to talk,” you continue, eyes watering, “But until then, goodnight, Eren.”
Eren winces when you turn around and ascend up the remaining stairs. He flirts with the idea of following you, going to your room to finish talking, but you’re probably angry enough to have it locked. His room is up there, too, but he opts for part of the sectional, laying down with the palms of his hands kneading against his closed eyelids.
For as long as he can remember, you’ve been there for him. Your friendship, at times, was like a game of tag—Eren always on the run with you loyally chasing after him; he’d always run amuck, and you’d always be there to catch him in the act. Now, it’s five in the morning, there’s no more yelling, no more chasing, no more racing, but he’s still running.
The following morning, you take Armin out to brunch, as promised. Jean tags along too, something about hanging out with the two of you being infinitely more entertaining than his genetics lecture. It doesn’t seem like Jean knows anything about Armin and Eren’s late night antics, so you don’t bring it up yourself.
Oblivious, Jean chats your ears off as if nothing is awry. Whether he knows it or not, he does a great job of distracting Armin from his own thoughts. They both eat to their heart’s content when you remind them you’ll foot the bill; and you don’t bat an eye when Jean convinces Armin to order his third round of pancakes. He deserves it.
Afterwards, Jean convinces the three of you to go window shopping with him in SoHo, claiming that he needed inspiration for his latest fashion assignment (you don’t question why he’s taking a fashion class as a biology major, but you suspect it has something to do with Mikasa). Window shopping soon turns into actual shopping, so almost completely unprompted, and with little effort on his part, Armin gets a few pieces of clothing on your behalf, while you try to ignore Eren’s words itching at the back of your mind.
Armin’s not a baby, but he certainly is a kid with a rough past and rough relationship with his parents at a time in his life where he arguably needs them the most. A little extra support from his friends wouldn’t harm him.
It’s nearing six when the three of you are wedged in a small booth inside a café, indulging in overpriced hot chocolate. Three sips into his second cup, Jean excuses himself to the bathroom, leaving you sitting across from Armin.
“You know, you don’t have to keep buying me stuff to make up for Eren,” Armin says, a small smile playing on his lips.
“I’m not trying to make up for him,” you sputter, careful not to spill your drink over your lap, “You had a rough night. Just accept my gifts, don’t be a brat.”
“I do accept them. Erwin’s been eyeing that Off White sweater for, like, three weeks now. He’s gonna have a hissy fit when he sees me wearing it.” You chuckle, and he continues, “But you know, as much I love spending time with you, you can’t use me to avoid Eren forever.”
“I’m not avoiding him,” you frown.
“You said you were going to take us to brunch, and then spent the whole day with us.”
“Funny, I recall you saying something about how much you love my company about thirty seconds ago.”
“He’s called you at least ten times today.”
“I was spending the day with my favorite NYU student… and Jean,” you bat your lashes, “I see you maybe once a week. I live with Eren, I have to see him every day.”
Armin calls your name with a pout, “He’s sorry, you know.”
“Not sorry enough,” you mumble. Armin opens his mouth to say something again, but then Jean’s sliding back into the booth, chatting about how he’s finally come up with the perfect anniversary date for Mikasa.
Armin doesn’t notice your sigh of relief, but he does take note of the way you wipe away your notifications when a text rings through. If Eren could spend his days running away from his problems, then you could, too.
Despite being arguably the greediest of you all, Jean loves company, so he doesn’t hesitate to say yes when you ask to crash at his place after your shopping escapades. You expect to be welcomed with sounds of screaming, laughter, and loud music, but to your surprise his apartment is completely silent upon your entering.
“Bertholdt has class and Marco has a meeting,” he prompts, as if he could read your thoughts. He shimmies his coat off his shoulders and tosses it over the bar in the foyer.
Their apartment has the same amount of rooms as yours and Eren’s, but is all stretched along a single floor. It’s more of a maze, really, with intricate turns, and hallways, that all more or less open up into the expanse of the foyer and bar. Their living room is your favorite part. A dark, brown leather sectional wraps around the back three walls and an oversized flatscreen encased in an ebony frame takes center stage. A collection of vinyl records litters the walls above the couch; each of the boys contributing their favorite discs as décor.
“If he has class, shouldn’t you have class?” you question, fingers dragging over the ridges of the closest record.
“I’ve had class all day, but that doesn’t mean I go,” Jean shrugs, walking up behind you and taking your jacket off your shoulders and your bag from your hand, “Besides, Bertholdt will probably cut half-way to go see Reiner, if he can even stay awake that long. Going with him is just as productive as staying home.”
“You’re all a mess,” you scoff, turning around as a cheesy grin grows on Jean’s lips. His smile is infectious, and soon you catch yourself grinning just because.
“You want something to drink?” he offers, throwing your coat over his elbow and tilting his head in the direction of the bar.
“You’re bad at mixing drinks,” you remind him, but follow him anyway.
Jean laughs, not bothering to deny the jab. He doesn’t try his hand at anything mixed or complicated this time; simply offering you a glass of your favorite red, and pouring himself a smaller amount.
He puts the album you were gawking at earlier on the record player, the two of you sinking into the couch as lovely melodies radiate throughout the apartment.
He spends the first hour bitching about how Marco’s supposed to become a CEO in less than a year, yet has the attention span of a squirrel; but the playful lilt in the brunette’s voice, and the begrudging smile on his face lets you know that it’s all love. He gushes about Mikasa for a good half hour, cramming you with stories about his girlfriend’s talent for sewing and fashion. You also learn that Bertholdt’s been busier than usual these days, and Jean suspects it has something to do with a secret lover.
You pinch your eyebrows at his hunch. Bertholdt’s never been one for dating. He’s had many friends with benefits in the past, but they weren’t relationships, nor were they secrets. In fact, you don’t think that he could keep a secret to save his life.
“Why would he be hiding it if he were seeing someone?” you question, swirling your newly refilled glass.
“Dunno,” Jean shrugs, “But it’s sus, I’m telling you. He’s been oddly busy for someone with a 2.3 GPA. Either way, I’ll pry it out of him eventually.”
“You’re so fucking nosey,” you chuckle, watching the mischievous, satisfied grin settle onto his features.
“I kinda think it’s Armin,” Jean says after a while, downing the remaining wine in his cup, while you choke on your own drink.
“Why on Earth do you think if Bertholdt had a secret lover that it’d be Armin?”
“Because he was in love with him for, like, two years in high school,” Jean says, as if the information should be painfully obvious.
“Yeah, and Bert also hooked up with a million different people in high school.”
“That doesn’t mean he wasn’t still in love with Armin.”
“I don’t think Armin’s kissed another human, let alone is in a secret relationship with one.”
“Hm, true. I forget he’s still a virgin.”
“Hey—there’s nothing wrong with Armin being a virgin, leave him be.”
“I know there’s nothing wrong with it,” Jean whines, “But it’s so—he doesn’t have to be. Armin’s cute! And very attractive—dare I even say sexy. He could go outside and get laid right now if he just tried.”
“Stay humble, Jean boy. If I remember correctly, you only started breaking hearts a year ago,” you tut. Jean’s nose goes pink as he shoves you away when you continue, “But, if you’re so concerned with Armin’s virginity, why don’t you go help him out with it.”
“Actually, if I remember correctly, I think that’s more your gig,” he shoots back, a smug smile tugging on his lips. “Not to mention, I’m not trying to get beat up by Annie. Though, I wonder how much longer it’ll take before she finally snaps. Hey, maybe the both of you can tag team him, I’m sure Annie wouldn’t mind, and it might even make Armin less nervous to have you—”
It’s your turn to shove him now, throwing in an extra punch when his head bobs back with laughter. You’re very certain Annie would mind; you would mind if someone inserted themself in your kind of, sort of, not really relationship, and ruined your four years of pining.
“Speaking of lovers,” Jean prompts, once his laughter dies down, bending his knee and turning closer to you. “Why are you and lover boy fighting? Trouble in paradise?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you hum, sipping your drink in between words. Jean’s eyes pinch together. “Marco and I would never fight.”
“My god, will you let your Marco fantasies go already? You’ve already caused him one sexuality crisis,” Jean groans, “You know I mean Eren.”
You sigh, lowering your glass and reaching forward to pinch his cheek. “It’s nothing you have to worry your pretty little head over.”
“Please,” he scoffs, flicking your offending hand back, “He’s been texting us nonstop since this morning at, like, nine. I didn’t even know he was capable of waking up before noon.”
It’s your turn to roll your eyes, but Jean continues, “Why he would ask us for advice on you is beyond me. He knows you better than all of us combined.”
“And why you’re saying all of this is beyond me.”
“Oh, come on, what’d he do,” Jean pushes, borderline whines, as he puts his empty glass down in a cup holder embedded in the couch. He’s always been the most prone to gossip, but you forget that wine makes him even more of a nosey prick. “Must have been pretty bad. Or stupid.”
“Try both,” you mumble, “Well—I don’t know, it wasn’t… the worst thing anyone could do, but it was really fucking reckless—and why he did it, I couldn’t even tell you. I don’t know what goes through his mind half the time, but I swear he must have been on crack last night.”
“He probably was. On crack, I mean. I told you, I took an ounce from him over the weekend, but that was after Eren and Ymir did, like, five lines.”
“Do they really do that regularly?” you nearly cry, a hand massaging your temple, “Fucking Christ, if he really was high while driving, I’ll kill him myself.”
“Well, I don’t know if regular is the right word,” Jean ponders, “Maybe for Ymir, but god knows what she’s on half the time, anyways. Besides, coke isn’t the worst thing they could do.”
“You sound like you speak from personal experience.”
“Maybe,” he shrugs, pausing when you shoot him a disapproving look, “Oh, come on! You’re no angel, either—if memory serves, you were high as shit at Moblit’s birthday party, and kept singing the star spangled banner all night.”
“Yeah, on weed! One time! It was on a rooftop and the stars were out and it has the same rhythm as the happy birthday song, cut me some slack!”
He finds laughing at your expense to be much more fun, however, as he continues to chuckle while you throw a fit. He’s also not one to let a topic of gossip go undiscussed, and has no problem bringing the conversation back to Eren.
“It’s because you two don’t talk, you know,” Jean tuts, “That’s why you fight like this.”
For the second time, the younger’s words have your eyebrows growing close together. “I mean, I guess—but it’s more than that. Eren and I live together, we obviously talk, but—”
“I know, I know, but just hear me out, okay? You and Eren talk about a lot of things, yeah, but you also… don’t. And sometimes you don’t have to, because you guys, like… get each other.”
“Wow. What a way with words you have, Jean Kirstein. You should write a self-help book.”
“What I mean,” he sneers, unhappy with the sarcasm being thrown his way, “Is that you guys understand each other in weird ways. It’s actually kind of cute—sometimes a little freaky, in all honesty. It’s why you don’t always have to talk about serious things. But you take it for granted and let shit bottle up, and then get in denial about it until you blow up in each other’s faces.”
“Please, you barely passed one philosophy class and now you think you’re Plato.”
“You’re doing the in denial thing right now!” he taunts, “Come one, when you two fight like this, what’s it usually about?”
You sigh, sinking back into the plush leather of the couch, and wrapping your hands around a fluffy throw pillow. Thinking about arguing with Eren isn’t particularly something you like to do, and truthfully, you don’t really get pissed at each other that often. Not to the point of ignoring each other, at least.
“I don’t know,” you drawl, “Drugs, me forgetting things, him doing stupid shit, him thinking Mikasa could do better than you, school, drinking, the fact that he leaves his big ass shoes at the top of the stairs for me to trip over and fall to my death every morning, when—”
“His parents?” Jean cuts you off.
“I—we don’t really… it’s not so much fighting over his parents, it’s all the stuff he does to deal with his parents. He never gives his mom’s boyfriends a chance, and he never really talks about why, either. I know he’s secretly just angry and insecure about his dad, but… I don’t know. That doesn’t really make it better.”
“True,” he nods, “See—he doesn’t talk about it.”
“I know, and I told him that last night, too, but… it’s a sensitive subject for him—his dad, I mean,” you sigh, “And you’re right, he shouldn’t bottle his feelings up, but, on the other hand he’s watched his mom get married five times. I don’t always blame him for not wanting to talk about it.”
“Yeah, but just because it’s hard to talk about doesn’t mean he shouldn’t,” Jean lolls, “Wouldn’t you have rather he said something than have done whatever stupid shit he did to make you want to sleep here tonight?”
“Okay, Socrates, I get it,” you lighten up, “I’ll talk to him—or get him to talk to me. Are you happy?”
“Quite,” he says, annoyingly chipper as he rises from the couch. “I hate seeing my favorite power couple fighting.”
Jean knows his words would elicit a slap to his arm, so he takes off just before you can reach him, prompting you to chase him out of the living room and down the hall. The brunette cackles ridiculously loudly as you scream his name with profanities sprinkled in-between. You catch a hold of the bottom of his shirt and pull him back, finally flicking him on the forehead.
He accepts his punishment with pride, offering you a signature smile in return while you both catch your breaths. It’s a sweet moment, the two of you looking at each other with stupid smiles on your face, exhalations tickling your cheeks.
Jean’s eyes break the gaze first, as he looks down the remainder of your face, and back up to your eyes again. His words could get caught in his throat, but he doesn’t let them—he shakes his head, and swiftly turns around, beckoning for you to follow him.
“Come on, we can steal Marco’s clothes for your pajamas this time.”
Jean spends all of three minutes pulling apart Marco’s dresser before swiping a t-shirt and Christmas themed pajama bottoms from his room. He tosses them in your direction before leading you back down the hall and to the left, opening the door to the guest bedroom for you, before leaving you to change.
They have more than one guest bedroom, but this one is unofficially yours. Little pieces of you can be found littered throughout the room, from spare jewelry to mismatched makeup. You spot a single, gold, teardrop shaped earring on the vanity and sigh as you run your fingers over it.
You swear you’d lost it a few months ago. Trust Jean to put it away for safekeeping without telling you he’d found it. The boy in question returns moments later, knocking while walking through the door with your purse in hand.
“How’d you know I was about to ask you to get that?” you question, a smile on your face as you retrieve the small bag from his hands.
Jean offers you a cocky grin, “Cause I’m the best.”
“Don’t go getting a big head, now,” you tease, “Or, well, an even bigger head.”
Jean ignores your insult, as you take a seat at the edge of the bed, fishing through your bag for your phone to plug it in for the night. He’s about to turn around and bid you goodnight, when the flash of something orange peeping out of your purse prompts his next thought.
“Hey, you picked up your refill, right?” he asks innocently, “It should have been ready last Thursday.”
You sigh, head falling slightly when you close your bag and place it on the vanity. “Uh… no.”
Jean’s mouth is already open, ready with equally friendly and scolding words, but you cut him off before he can talk. “I was going to on Thursday, but I had class late, and then I forgot on Friday and I haven’t really had time since then. But I have a few left-overs from the last two months, so I’ve been taking those!”
Jean’s mouth closes, but his eyes narrow as he begins to walk towards you. You know he’s putting two and two together, so you speak ahead of him again.
“I know, I know, I shouldn’t have any left over, but it’s only five, I promise! I’ve been really good, lately.”
Jean’s eyes remain in concentrated slits, but his resolve is waning when he reads over your expression. His facade fades as he takes the final steps towards you to stand directly in front of your body.
“Okay,” he says, voice soft through his smile, “I’ll go with you to pick them up tomorrow before I drop you home, yeah?”
It elates him more than it should to see the smile you flash his way. Unfortunately, it’s short-lived, as his next question leaves your face twisted with guilt.
“Have you… told Eren yet?”
You consider lying and saying yes, but something tells you Jean won’t buy it. Your silence seems to speak loud enough, as his shoulders drop with a quiet sigh.
“I want to, I just… well I’m mad at him right now, and even when I’m not… I don’t know why it’s so hard,” you confess.
“He’d wanna know, you know,” Jean says, and it’s not the first time he’s said it to you, either. “You know he wouldn’t judge you or anything.”
“I know that. But, truthfully, if I had things my way, not even you would know, Jean.”
It was an accident that Jean found out that you’d been taking anxiety medication.
It was at somebody’s house party where the majority of your friends and their guests had gotten piss drunk. Reiner’s date had suggested mixing their alcohol with molly she’d supposedly had in her bag. In her drunken stupor, she’d mistaken your purse for her own, but luckily, a not so drunk Jean had noticed the label didn’t match her name, and snagged the bottle before the worst could happen.
They ended up not finding her molly, anyway, but it’s a moot point. Jean had cornered you about the bottle later in the week with honest intentions; he’d been concerned that might be another kind of drug disguised by a prescription veil. However, you’d assured him that it was indeed your prescribed Lexapro, and not a shady mixture of black market substances.
And, he’d been more than understanding in the aftermath. Quite frankly, he had somewhat made it his business to ensure that you got and took your medication on time and felt comfortable getting to and from your therapy appointments.
It’s endearing in a way that made you pause and count your blessings sometimes. Jean had been nothing but unequivocally supportive in his understanding about anxiety and had gone the extra mile to comfort you where need be. It made you wonder why you hesitated to tell Eren on several occasions.
It was probably the very nature of anxiety itself that had you doubting your trust in Eren. You wanted to tell him—of course you did—but, you couldn’t. You know that Eren would do everything in his power to make it better, even if that was just being. You know that he’d want to know and he’d kill to understand. But you couldn’t possibly burden him with your problems, not when he has a million of his own.
The one person in the world you wanted to tell, you were terrified of talking to. And you know it’s irrational to be afraid of him, but you can’t seem to control those thoughts. It’s a tiring, consuming, endless cycle.
Jean watches the way your gaze lowers to the floor. He knows exactly what you’re thinking, and, god, he swears if he could take that train of thought away from you, he’d do it in a heartbeat.
With a heavy heart and tired eyes, he takes a final step forward and wraps his arms around your body. He counts three, four seconds before you hug him back. He raises a hand to the back to your head, cradling your face into his shoulder and squeezing you tightly.
“Hey, I’m proud of you, you know that,” he speaks, just a notch above a whisper, “I know you’ll tell him when you’re ready.”
“I will,” you murmur into the fabric of his shirt. You hug him back a little tighter and close your eyes, “Thank you, Jean.”
And Jean holds on, and hopes you know that he wouldn’t let you go, “You’re welcome, (_____).”
You come home to find your entire apartment littered with flowers; in the hallway, on the sectional, atop the counter, up the stairs.
There are several boxes of your favorite macarons stacked in a small pyramid on the kitchen island, and you wouldn’t be surprised if you checked the labels to find that they were shipped straight from the south of France this morning. There’s too many bottles of Ace on the coffee table, sparkling next to a basket of what looks like your regular skincare products. A pretty, gold bow rests atop an even prettier pair of red-bottomed heels, and if you’re not mistaken, that’s a limited edition, vintage YSL clutch on the sectional, resting against your favorite throw pillow.
You sigh, making your way to the couch to pick up the orange envelope sticking out of the handbag. Just as you’re about to open it, you hear footsteps, and a voice that follows.
“You’re back,” Eren chirps from mid-way on the staircase, “I, uh, there’s catering coming from Butter coming soon. I know it’s your favorite,” he continues as he descends the stairs.
He has his hand on the back of his neck and there’s a faint, pink tint to his cheeks as he slowly makes his way towards you. You cross your arms, looking him up and down when he stands in front of you.
He’s wearing dark jeans and a tweed sweater with patches at the elbow. His hair is split down the middle, longer than usual, so the ends of sweep over his eyelashes; and there are telltale signs that he’d been toying with it.
“Eren, what is all of this?” you finally ask, shifting your weight to your right leg.
“Part one of my apology and explanation,” he replies, a hopeful timbre to his voice. You roll your eyes, but he continues anyway, “Actually, part two is in that envelope.”
Skeptical, you unfold your arms and open the envelope. You don’t know what you were expecting—a card, maybe tickets to a musical or something; but what you definitely weren’t expecting were two tickets to Paris.
“France?” you look up, tickets in hand, “You don’t get it do you? You can’t just buy all of this shit, jet us off to Europe and expect everything to be okay.”
“No, no it’s not like that—I swear!” he interjects, hands moving sporadically, “It’s just, well… Can we sit? Then I can explain everything.”
Eren looks at you with those big green eyes and that sad pout to his lips, and you find yourself sighing and taking a seat on the couch against your better judgement. There’s a small smile to his lips when you do—a little victory—and he sits next to you, your knees resting against each other as you face him.
He’s shaking, and your resolve to punish him with whatever solid exterior and half-assed silent treatment dissolves as you take his left hand in your right, and recall your conversation with Jean. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s me, Eren. You can talk to me.”
When he feels your smaller hand envelop his, the shaking stops, and for a moment, it feels like he can do this, like everything is okay. He smiles, and takes a deep breath.
“The other night, you were right, about my mom and her boyfriend coming home,” he starts, words slow and heavy, “I didn’t even know she was coming—I knew she was visiting this month, but she didn’t tell me when, and I thought it was going to be just her, you know? But then she showed up with him, and, well, I don’t know. I was upset. She’s been home for a week now, and we haven’t even gone to dinner or anything.”
He pauses, and you squeeze his hand for reassurance, “We were supposed to get lunch on Thursday, but she cancelled. Had some meeting or something, I don’t know, I don’t care. Friday comes and she says she wants to have dinner, right?”
You nod, he continues. “I thought it was just going to be us, but he was there. That’s when she told me that… that they’re…” he squeezes his eyes shut, “They’re engaged.”
Your mouth falls into a small o-shape. Everything made perfect sense now.
It’s not that Eren didn’t love his mother, quite the opposite actually. He’s a mama’s boy through and through; she’s his role model, his everything, he adores her. Her career as a designer often takes her on long business trips, most frequently as prolonged stays in Paris, so much so that she relocated her primary office there shortly after Eren graduated high school.
Now, she only visits home for one or two weeks at a time, sometimes only for the weekend. Upon her decision to permanently relocate, she planned to leave Eren under the unofficial supervision of Mikasa. Instead, Eren bought Mikasa her own three-bedroom apartment in Midtown (according to his logic, it was better for her to have her own place than to move in with Jean), and a shared two-story penthouse for the both of you that overlooks Central Park.
Eren misses her more than he cares to admit, but he puts on the same facade every time she comes home because he hates the company she brings.
Paris is where she met her newest boyfriend, Mitchell, and Eren swears he hates that man with every fiber of his being. It’s not saying much, though, not when Eren’s hated every single one of his mother’s past romantic partners, right down to his own father.
“Is… is that why you—”
“Rented a brand new Corvette and went drag racing at one in the morning?” he chuckles, “Yeah. It was stupid, I know, but I was just angry, I guess. I dunno what I was feeling, but it wasn’t good.”
You nod, wrapping both of your hands around his now and offering him a warm smile. He smiles back, just for a moment. “That’s what the tickets are for, actually. The wedding.”
“They’re getting married in France?” you question, to which he nods, “On the first? Isn’t that a little short notice to plan a wedding?”
“I think you’re underestimating the power of Carla Jaeger,” he chuckles, “Apparently, it’s been in the works for a few months now. He proposed with fireworks or some shit. Said she wanted to tell me in person, though.”
“This ticket is for next week,” you say, rereading the dates on the papers. “The wedding is three weeks from now.”
“Well, I kind of figured we could take a little vacation before then,” he grins, “I texted most of the boys earlier, and they can probably come to the wedding, but I want to spend some time with you before it gets hectic, you know? Consider it an end of the semester present.”
Your eyes flicker down to your hand, still wrapped around Eren’s, when he starts to trace circles into your skin, “I thought I just told you, you can’t jet us off to Europe to fix things.”
“You did,” he hums, “And I know I can’t—I’m not trying to, I just… Truthfully, I reserved the plane and the hotel a few weeks back and it really was just going to be a surprise for us—well, more like a gift for you because I know you’ve been busting your ass in chem—but then… everything else happened, and I think a break sounds perfect before I watch my mom get married for the sixth time.”
You watch him continue to toy with your hands for a while, processing your conversation. It was typical of Eren to surprise you like this, so you can’t figure out why this particular present leaves you feeling warmer than usual.
“You sure you don’t need a break from me?”
Eren beams and takes the opportunity to lace your fingers together. “Nah, you’re annoying, but not Jean level annoying.”
You scoff, “I’m telling him you said that.”
“It’ll sound better coming from you, anyway,” he shrugs, “Besides, I might just murder Mitchell if you’re not there with me.”
You chuckle, on the verge of accepting his proposal, but the mention of Jean prompts another thought to cross through your mind. “I’d love to, but I… I don’t know. I don’t want Armin to spend the first few weeks of winter break here all alone.”
This Christmas would mark one year since Armin had seen, or even talked to, any of his immediate family members, with the exception of Erwin.
Last year, you all tried to salvage the damage by sticking around so, at the very least, he didn’t have to feel alone. You and your friends decided that Armin ought to be celebrated, not ostracized for any aspect of himself, so you all chipped in for a cute, impromptu trip to the Catskills so that everyone could be together and close to home.
This year, however, there seemed to be quite a few conflicts of interest. Even if Armin was one of the boys who was planning on attending the wedding, you doubt he had plans leading up to it. You know that Marco, Bertholdt, Mikasa, and Jean had invited him to go to Aspen with them, but Armin declined the offer. Similarly, Connie, Sasha, Annie, Reiner, and Ymir would be off to Dubai as soon as classes ended; an invitation Armin had also turned down.
You weren’t sure what Erwin’s plans were, though you’re certain they involved his own friends in some way or another. At the very least, it was unlikely that he would leave his younger brother completely stranded over the break; but you didn’t want to make plans without knowing Armin wouldn’t be alone.
“He won’t, actually he’ll be closer than you think,” Eren reassures you, “Hange and Moblit wanted to go skiing anyways, so Erwin is taking all of them to the Alps instead of Aspen. Armin doesn’t know yet, but he’s going with them.”
“Shouldn’t Erwin spend his break campaigning, and not skiing? Last I checked, he wasn’t too popular in Queens”
“Ah, you know Erwin,” Eren shrugs, “He has a way of making people devote themselves to him. He’ll win the election with or without campaigning, trust me—the point is, that little baby Armin will be safe and sound under Erwin’s protection, and you don’t have to worry about him.”
“How come you get to call him a baby?”
“Because I’m a hypocritical asshole who doesn’t deserve you, but is hoping you’ll come with me anyway.”
Eren smirks, but there’s a genuine undertone to his words as he moves his fingers to toy with the ring around your pointer finger. The same one he gave to you two Christmases ago. Well, kind of.
The ring he originally gifted you was a Harry Winston piece, with an encrusted band that wrapped into two sunflowers, both made of classic, white diamonds with emeralds sparkling in the center. After seeing the design, and the price tag, you demanded that he take it back, or at the very least, get it sized to fit on your index finger or thumb so that people didn’t get the wrong idea.
Instead, he came back with a simple, silver chain for the original ring to hang from, and the current ring on your finger; a rose gold band with tiny diamonds studded around it. Likely equally as expensive, but more appropriate according to you.
“Fine. But you have to be on your best behavior,” you agree, paying no mind to Eren’s thumb twirling your jewelry, “Do you promise me no drag racing or antics of any sort while we’re there?”
Eren shakes his head at the memory, eyeing the first ring that sits against your chest.
He smiles. “I do.”
The afternoon after your last exam, you bid the remainder of your friends goodbye, grab your bags, and hop on a plane with Eren. It arrives in Paris, but you’re rerouted off to Nice before you can so much as blink at the Eiffel tower; you’d be staying there for the two and half weeks leading up to the wedding, in a small villa.
You had to hand it to him, Eren really outdid himself. It’s dark and nearing three in the morning when you arrive, but even in your sleepy stupor you can admire your accommodations. The villa is secluded, the perfect distance from the water, and decorated lavishly almost to your exact liking. You wouldn’t be surprised if Eren sprung it on you that he’d bought the place, and wasn’t merely renting it for this vacation.
Every day after that, Eren proves he was honest in his intentions of this being a getaway gift to you. He’s planned every activity under the sun—from hot air balloon rides, to helicopter tours, to jet-skiing. The days are certainly fun and filled with beautiful memories, but there’s something special about Nice at sunset; something about the sound of gentle waves brushing up against the beach, and the spotlights carved from sun-cast shadows on the buildings.
It’s just after dinner time, bordering on your eighth night here, when you and Eren are walking along the cobblestone streets that border the beach, the length of your sundress flowing every which way with the breeze, and the tail of Eren’s blazer flailing like a cape behind him.
He looks nice tonight, but, truthfully, he always does. He claimed he hadn’t put on the casual green suit because of your outfit, but you swear he was wearing khakis before he saw your dress. The tips of his ears go red when you tease him about it at dinner, but it doesn’t really matter to you; he would have looked good, regardless. Those suits are made for him, after all; tailored to fit perfectly, and designed by his own mother.
The streets tend to settle down after six, locals and tourists retreating indoors or heading to the beach to relax and draw in the evening. Tonight, however, there’s much more commotion than usual on your route.
“Maybe we should take the long way,” you suggest. On the tips of your toes, you realize that there’s some kind of special event happening in the square, filled with lights and music that grows louder with every step you take.
But the crowd and the lights and the smell of food only piques Eren’s interest. “No way—let��s check it out!”
You don’t have the time to refute before his long legs surpass your own stride, headfirst into the sea of people. You can only follow with a smile and a shake of your head. The soft green of his suit jacket serves as your guide as he navigates through the crowd, but the closer you get to the center, the more people there are.
You can feel palms of your hands growing uncomfortably warm as you become hyperaware of just how many people there are. You clutch the end of your dress in your hand, for both practicality and as a sort of comfort mechanism, as you try your best to calm the anxious wave threatening to crash against you.
With a deep breath, you begin to walk again, unaware of Eren’s actions until you physically walk into his hand, long fingers poking at your belly. You hadn’t realized he stopped walking, or that you’d caught up with him, and your eyebrows crinkle when you look down to see Eren’s left hand extended behind him and towards you, palm facing upwards.
He doesn’t say anything, or look back at you at all. Only wraps his larger fingers around yours when he feels the weight of your hand in his, and continues to guide you through the crowd, his pace slower, and hand firm around yours.
The mass of people becomes more spread out when you approach what appears to be the center of the event; and it looks like a party, maybe a wedding of some sort. There’s food and champagne galore, and more than enough happy guests dancing along to upbeat music in the streets.
Eren’s eyes light up as he takes in the scene, “You wanna dance?”
“What—Eren, no!” you refuse, “We cannot crash these people’s party!”
“Why not?” he counters, without a care in the world, “Seems like an open invitation to me! Come on!”
And for the second time that evening, you find yourself being pulled into his schemes; this time in the direction of the open space dubbed dance floor.
You’re both terrible and ostentatious and people start to watch, but it doesn’t matter because you’re smiling too wide and laughing too hard to care. Eren has a way of moving both with and against the music, forcing your body to follow his lead.
He shouts something over the noise, but you don’t have time to register his words before he laces your right hand with his left, and places his right hand on your waist. There’s a blink of confusion for a moment before you’re being swept off your feet and into a dramatic dip. You don’t have time to secure yourself against his shoulders, but Eren does a fine job of supporting you with a single arm against your back.
From what you can tell the song is far from over and the dramatic pose is completely unwarranted, but you and the crowd alike are victim to his charm. You indulge yourself, looking up at him with eyes too fond to memorize every feature of his face in this moment; the way he’s laughing with that big, dumb, wide smile of his that makes his nose crinkle and his eyes light up.
You’re too busy looking at him to hear Eren’s voice calling out to you, or even realize that he’s moved you from your pose to standing back upright. He’s equal parts amused and concerned at the glazed over look in your eyes.
“Hello? Anybody home up there?” he teases, elongating the vowels and squeezing your waist to alert you.
The reminder of his hands on your hips pulls you back to reality, your eyes fluttering down to his arms, then back to his face. It feels stuffy suddenly, too close to function.
“Yea—yeah! Do you wanna get a drink? Yeah, let’s get a drink!” you exclaim, haphazardly pointing and walking towards the food.
You don’t see it, but Eren looks on with glittering eyes, his verbal agreement heard only by himself as you veer towards the buffet. He can still feel your body in his grip, still see the specks of gold in your pupils as he lingers on the back of your silhouette lovingly. And before you can realize, he snaps himself out of it—an out of body experience similar to yours a few moments ago—before catching up with you.
You end up socializing for much longer than intended. Eren makes friends with everyone, to no surprise, and, uncharacteristically, you feel influenced by his actions, and converse with a few people yourself. You let him take the lead, though. Partially because he’s better at it, and partially because you just like listening to him speak French.
“Hey, we should probably get out of here,” he whispers into your ear after waving goodbye to a lovely couple you’d just met, “Before the host of this party realizes we’re miles better than his actual guests.”
You nod with a smile, more than happy to play by his rules for the evening. He offers you his hand again, that same, dopey smile on his face when you take it.
He leads you out of the crowd and back on to the path to your villa, the smell of warm food and sounds of vibrant music growing dull as you venture further from the celebration. It’s much darker than it was when you began your trek back from the restaurant, but beautiful all the same.
Your sandals pad against the wooden dock that leads up the villa, and Eren unlocks the door silently, ushering you inside before entering behind you.
“I know I said I wanted to leave, but I’m not really tired yet,” Eren confesses, pulling his blazer off of his shoulders.
“Me neither,” you say, placing your small wristlet on the table with a shrug, “What do you wanna do though, I’m not—”
“Great!” he cuts you off, smile too big. You narrow your own in suspicion. That tone of voice with that look on his face usually meant something mischievous, at best. “Remember when you said the first time you’d smoke would be with me, and then pranced away and took a bowl from Hange and got high as shit at Moblit’s party?”
“Why does everyone remember Moblit’s party but me!”
“Don’t worry about it,” he chuckles, waving the topic away, “Anyway… Do you wanna smoke now?”
You blink. “I… did you… smuggle weed all the way to France?”
“No, of course not!” he refutes, “…I got it here.”
You scoff, but don’t have the time to question him further before Eren’s tugging on your wrist and pulling you into the bedroom. You take to sitting on your bed while he rummages through his suitcase to retrieve a small, clear jar with several rolled joints inside and a lighter to match.
He shuffles next to you in the bed, mindlessly handing you the lighter while he unscrews the top off the jar. He takes out two of the joints, places one next to the jar on the nightstand, and tucks the other between his teeth. He asks you to hand him the lighter, and you do so wordlessly, distracted by the sight of Eren’s gaze and the blunt poking out his mouth.
“This’ll be fun, yeah?” He reassures you, “Technically, you let Hange take your weed virginity, but I’ll be better.”
“Can you not phrase it like that,” you roll your eyes, “You already took my virginity virginity, don’t be bitter.”
An all too smug grin settles on his features as he recounts the fact. “Besides,” you tack on, “I’ve never done it like this before. So, it’s still a first, kind of.”
Eren cups one hand around the joint, sparking the lighter with the other until it catches fire. He inhales, slow and deliberate, as if he were putting on a show, or a lesson, of sorts, taking the smoke into his lungs and out through his mouth.
You’d gravely miscalculated how attractive Eren would look doing this. Sure, he’s hot, you knew that, but the pronunciation of his jawline when he exhales, and the confidence with which he drags on the blunt is a stark reminder to you. He takes a few more hits, just as slow and sensual as the first, and the room begins to feel warmer.
“Come closer,” be beckons, smoke rolling off of his tongue with every syllable.
You snap yourself out of the haze of your imagination and scoot closer to him. He silently hands you the joint, and it feels heavy between your fingers. At the distance, you take in the smell—pungent and off-putting, but too familiar.
Eventually, you bring it to your lips, careful not to let your tongue press against the tip, and inhale slowly, like you’d seen Eren do before. You do your best to hold the smoke in your lungs for a bit, but seeing as the last time you did this you were amped up on adrenaline and drunk off your ass, the task proves to be much more difficult. It tickles before becoming uncomfortable and you exhale ungracefully, puffs of smoke punctuating your coughs.
Eren watches with a grin, amused at the sight of you fanning the excess smoke away with your nose scrunched in distaste. “You should have warned me you were gonna cough like a bitch.”
“Oh, fuck off,” you whine, trying to hide the hint of a smile creeping onto your face. You hand the blunt back to him, “You’re supposed to teach me, not tease me, asshole.”
Eren pauses his laughter, unsure of what to make of your tone; rushed, a bit embarrassed, but testy. It’s quiet while he stares at you, trying not to let the implication of your words run wild in his mind; but it’s futile when you’re pouting like that, the room is growing foggier, and he’s been semi-hard since you accepted his offer.
“Fine. Watch and learn,” he breathes, words coming out more jagged than he’d intended.
This time, he completely exaggerates every motion; he inhales at a tantalizing pace and flutters his eyes closed while he lets the smoke swish in his mouth, down his throat, and expand into his lungs. He cranes his neck upwards, and purses his lips to let the clouds exit in the streamline that follows the slope of his jaw.
Maybe it’s the drugs getting to you, but your mind is filled with nothing but sheer clouds that aren’t thick enough to block out thoughts of Eren. The weed is unattractive, potent in smell, and all kinds of wrong; yet, everything about him is soft, sultry, and pulls you in.
“Wanna try again, or do you need another lesson?”
You faintly mutter a profanity under your breath. His words end with giggles, a sign the drugs have already begun to take their effect on him, his expression is still smug. You forget Eren knows just how attractive he is. Motherfucker.
“Actually,” he cuts your train of thought, “I have a better idea, come ‘ere.”
Eren beckons you forward again, closing the gap between your legs so that your knees graze each other under the fabric of your clothing while you’re sat next to each other. He leans over, far too close into your personal space, as if to test something; he freezes when his nose is mere inches from your face, a dissatisfied scrunch taking over his features.
He reinstates his hold on your wrist, motioning your body backwards until your back is against the frame of the bed. He hums in approval, positioning himself next to you again, equally as close, but far more comfortable for what he has planned next.
“I’m—I’m gonna try somethin’, okay?” he stutters, the first word mistakenly coming out in broken German, “Just, don’t freak out on me. It’ll be good, promise.”
You nod, unsure of what you’ve just signed off on, but you don’t have time to ask questions. Eren takes another hit, then passes the blunt to his non-dominant hand. He turns to face you, leans forward, and places his free hand on the back of your neck to pull you closer; the expanse of his palm leaving room for his thumb to venture over the bottom half of your cheek.
Eren pulls you in until your lips are millimeters apart, and he can see the pattern of your eyes in beautiful detail. He shifts his hand now so that the majority of it covers your face, the pad of his thumb running across your bottom lip. He applies the perfect amount of pressure to pry your willing mouth open, and then, finally, exhales.
This time, you can taste it. It’s woodsy, and bitter, but the sweet undertones dance on your tongue. This time, there’s more to think about than just the smoke in your lungs; like the burn of Eren’s hand on your neck; the pressure of his thumb against your bottom lip; the proximity of his lips to yours; the look in his eyes.
“Feel good?” he doesn’t bother to pull away before asking, and the words ghost over your lips with the remaining smoke. You nod; he smiles. “Wanna try again?”
You let out a breathy note of affirmation, and then he’s inhaling and exhaling into you, and you welcome him with pried lips and a heavy thumping in your chest. The confidence with which he maneuvers his body and the drugs is nerve-wracking, yet comforting at the same time; he has an expertise and power that intimidates, but compels you to follow.
Together, you finish the first blunt, and Eren lights the second without missing a beat. His hands are more demanding this around; they guide you into submission, and he’s pleased to find that you’re willing to listen.
After the third exhale, you stop focusing on his hands, and more on his lips. After the fourth, you think you might be high—not to the stars as you infamously were during Moblit’s party—but with a comfortable, dull buzz in your head. Everything feels a little fuzzy, out of touch, but you host a burning want for something more, something tangible.
You don’t know it, but Eren feels the same.
After the fifth exhale, Eren pulls away, the blunt a simple stub as he flicks it away onto the night stand, and you miss him being too close. You miss his hands, you miss his warmth, you crave his touch.
“Eren,” you call, unable to think of or see anything but him in the haze. He answers with a strained, “Yeah?” keening towards the sound of your voice, wide eyes flitting all over your face.
It’s too much, too close, too hot. That’s when you cup his jaw, pull him forward, and meld your lips together.
Kissing Eren is painfully familiar, and unnervingly satisfying. It’s certainly not your first kiss with him; and, yet he has a way of making you feel like it is while reminding you of your history. His lips are soft, and they taste like smoke and the chapstick you swear by because he refuses to buy or test out his own.
You pull away too soon, gauging his reaction with blown-out eyes, before dipping forward to have him against you again. Then again, and again, and again, until Eren is tired of your leaving, and his hands are back on your neck.
This kiss is deeper, Eren searching to satisfy the hunger aching inside of him, and you’re happy to comply when his thumb is pressing at your lower lip again. You open your mouth for him and he doesn’t waste a moment, brushing his tongue against yours experimentally, and then flush into your mouth.
He groans when you rake your fingers into his hair, and pulls back with a hissing noise when you scratch at his nape. Large hands move to grip at your waist, and he pulls you into his lap with a concentrated gaze—a brief second for him to admire the sight of you on top of him, before he resumes kissing you. He sucks on your tongue, rolls his past your teeth, and bites on your bottom lip.
You know he relishes in the sounds he elicits from you, and under any normal circumstance, you’re willing to put up a fight with him, but not now. Now, you let him unzip the back of your dress and snake his hands beneath the fabric. The rubbing motions of his hands turn into gripping, gripping into grinding, and eventually, an unfiltered moan slips past your lips when you feel Eren’s erection roll against you.
“Fuck,” he pulls back with a suck of your swollen lip, “You’re so hot.”
Eren quickly switches your positions so that he’s hovering over you. You chuckle lightly underneath him, taking the opportunity to run both your hands through his hair and cradle his head in your hold, “Haven’t done anything yet.”
“I know,” Eren murmurs, dipping his head down to press kisses into your neck, “Still so sexy. So pretty, always.”
Eren bites a hickey into your collar bone, and everywhere he can touch; your neck, your ears, your cheeks, your lips. Your moaning serves as the spark to keep him going, but he’s barely coherent himself the way you keep pulling at his hair and grinding yourself against him. Even through his clothes, you can feel how painfully hard he is.
He barely catches your tongue between his lips when you moan again, sucking harshly before bruising his lips over yours again. His hands are grabby again, finally pulling your dress completely off of your body, leaving it to form a puddle on the ground. They’re back on your as soon as possible, massaging over your tits, and running his index finger over your nipples.
“Eren... Eren, please,” you whimper, chest heaving as you look down at him. He rolls his index finger over your right nipple, with his left hand teasing the other with his thumb. You can’t tell if the look in his eyes is a product of the weed, or just his glassy, borderline predatory stare, but it makes you shiver with pleasure when he wraps his mouth around your nipple and sucks.
“I want you.”
“Want you, too,” Eren hums, pulling back with a thin trail of spit from your breast, before moving to give your left nipple the same treatment, “More than you know.”
You keen to him when he teases his teeth against you, finally having had enough you force him off of you with a tug of his hair. “Then take off your clothes.”
Eren blinks, wide-eyed but glazed all the same. He chuckles lightly, a blush spreading over his cheeks as he nods. He sits back on his knees, pulling his shirt over his head, forgoing undoing the buttons, and pauses briefly with his hands over the zipper of his pants.
“Please tell me you’re not that gone that you forgot how to undo your zipper,” you tease him, chest still heaving from his previous ministrations. Eren smiles, doe-eyed and hazy, and shakes his head.
“No,” he reassures you, finally undoing his zipper and shimmying his pants off his legs, “Was trying to remember what underwear I was wearing. Didn't want it to be embarrassing.”
His honesty makes you laugh, and Eren pauses for a moment to soak it in. Even like this, even with him stumbling over the steps to undress himself, and you almost completely naked in front of him, he can make you smile. There’s something equally sexy and endearing about your giggles; a juxtaposition that makes him want to hug you or kiss you or something in between. And you—you like the look in his eyes even through your giggling; the way he smiles back and blushes and tells you exactly what he’s thinking.
“It’s okay,” you tell him, “Don’t think mine are particularly sexy either.”
Eren hums, shuffling back on to the bed so that he’s between your legs, and leans forward to kiss you again. He still can’t seem to keep his hands off of you, his fingers immediately flying to your underwear and peeling them off your legs, pulling you closer despite the lack of space between your bodies.
“Yeah, doesn’t matter,” Eren echos, tossing the offending item to the side, before cupping your face in his hands, “I’d still wanna fuck you in your granny panties.”
“You wanna fuck me?” you question, eyes sparkling and hopeful.
“Yeah, I do,” Eren can’t help but to smile again, happy and high and drunk on you, too, “Will you let me?”
Your feverish nodding is all it takes for Eren’s mind to go hazy again; clouded with you, you, you. You pull him into a kiss, arching your body into his, and running your hands down the sides of his back. He moans at the feeling, punishing you by nipping at your lower lip and pressing your stomach back to the mattress with his palm.
Your eyes meet his as Eren lines himself up with your cunt, teasing your folds with the head; but it doesn’t take long before he finally pushes in, sheathing himself inside you completely without movement. He waits a minute, whether it’s to make you comfortable, or to gather his own bearings, you’re not sure; but when he’s ready, he flashes you a smile and waits for one in return, before he starts thrusting.
You know Eren’s not gentle; rough whether or not he intends to be by virtue of his size in comparison to you, but you seem to have forgotten just how capable he is of making you lose your senses. He has you gasping, grasping at him at him unintelligibly, feeling full with his cock inside of you.
Eren groans, borderline growls, when he feels you clench around him, when he sees you shaking beneath him. He could do this all; could watch you all day.
“So pretty, the prettiest. Prettiest girl, my favorite girl,” Eren praises, eyes raking up and down your thrashing body, “My favorite fucking girl.”
“You—you, too.”
“Yeah? I’m your favorite, too?” Eren coos, reaching out to guide your arms over your head, the force of his body pinning your hands down; you can hardly gasp before he lacess your fingers together, and gives you a reassuring squeeze.
“Promised you, didn’t I? That I’d be good to you, be on my best behavior,” Eren reminds you, leaning forward.
He eyes your necklace—eyes glued to ring around it—bouncing with your body. He bends his head down to kiss it, bites at the skin near it; a possessive streak overcoming him as the diamonds shine against you. “I said I’d treat you good, always. Meant it.”
He stutters, when you squeeze him back; fingers tightening around his hold, your pussy clenching around his cock. Your whining is insistent, and mixes with Eren’s low moans and guttural noises. Eren doesn’t let up his pace, fucking you fast and deep, and it’s only a matter of time before you feel a knot twisting in your belly.
You attempt to move your arms, searching for a release of the feeling building up inside of you but Eren is strong; stronger than you, and he keeps you in your place. Keeps your arms pinned above you, keeps his palms pressed into yours, keeps his lips hovering above yours, just out of reach.
“Eren,” you call his name through shaky moans.
“Yeah? What, baby?”
“Kiss me.”
And so he does, his lips needy and hungry over yours. Eren fucks you and kisses you through your orgasm, tasting your moans on his tongue in timing with him cumming inside of you. You don’t let up; kissing him lewdly while you both come down from your highs.
“So good,” Eren croons against your lips, down your jaw, into your skin, “So good for me.”
You both moan in chorus when he finally pulls out, Eren’s head laying on your collar, nose nuzzling into your neck. He lets your hands free, and immediately you wrap them around his back, holding him close as you both attempt to catch your breaths.
You don’t know how long you lay there like that, with Eren on top of you, and your thumb rubbing circles into his cheek while he sleeps soundly. Maybe an hour, maybe more, maybe less; but the euphoria of your sex doesn’t quiet seem to fade.
It might last all night, maybe even for the rest of your trip but you don’t mind. You think back to earlier in the evening, when you’d caught his gaze after your dance. The feeling isn’t all that different; warm, and fuzzy, and too much and not enough all at once. It feels good, it feels like Eren.
You hum softly to yourself, careful not to wake up the sleeping boy on your chest, when you realize exactly what these two moments have in common: a rare event in which Eren is still in front of you, steady and stagnant, no running or chasing; and you don’t want to let him go.
Sometimes Eren thinks you act oblivious on purpose just to fuck with him, because there’s absolutely no way you—or any human with a functioning nervous system and social cues—can’t tell that he’s completely, stupidly, and embarrassingly in love with you.
Long gone are his days of trying to deny it or get over it. He realized that sophomore year of high school—almost eight years ago—that no matter where he went, what kind of drug he inhaled, or how hard he tried, you’d be permanently etched into his heart. That doesn’t make it any less exhausting, and, in fact, only makes it more astounding that you haven’t caught on yet. Honestly, Eren’s considered hiring a private psychiatrist just to make nothing’s wrong with you.
Amazingly, the remainder of your vacation continues just like the former half. The only exception being that now you’re in Paris. And that he’s shamelessly coerced you into letting him fuck your brains out on several occasions. But besides that, everything’s chill.
Just two best friends traveling through France together and stopping to fuck in any semi-private location they can find. Just two peas in a pod walking along the Champs Elysées at damn near midnight. Just two best buds with linked arms tasting (see: feeding each other) every macaron flavor they come across while violinists play stupidly romantic, classical music in the background.
He knows he should probably talk to you about it, but for some reason he can’t. Like telling you would make it all too real, and give it a meaning that could so easily be taken away from him; give you a reason to want to leave him. Right now, it’s just a fantasy, and he’s free to keep dreaming, believing that he’s special and worth enough for the affection you’ve shown him.
He doesn’t want to be one in a list of your boyfriends, or fiances, or husbands; he wants to be your only one, and if he can’t be, then he’d rather be stuck to your side as your best friend. At least that way, in someway, he could remain special to you; not a forgotten, ordinary ex of your past.
Though, a best friend who he’s sleeping with regularly and he’s in love with and will always be in love with is starting to sound a lot like a husband to him. At least, the kind of husband he would like to be to you.
You call his name, asking him if he wants to try another sweet. Eren rolls his eyes. What he wants is to fuck you, and marry you, and have you bless his stupid little existence with two runts for kids that look like him but act like you so his life savings don’t run out by the time they’re twelve. But sure, he’ll settle for having you feed him another macaron in the meantime.
“This one tastes just like the coconut one,” he mumbles, chewing his way through the pastry you’d stuffed into his mouth whole.
It’s the seventh bakery you’ve stopped at tonight, and even though Eren’s growing pretty sick of the sugary treats, he’ll walk with you to every damn bakery in Paris tonight if that’s what you want.
He blinks at the thought. He’s so lovesick it’s disgusting. And he wouldn’t do a damn thing to change it.
“That’s probably because it’s almond and coconut flavored,” you say, wiping the stickiness from your fingers onto a napkin.
“I didn’t taste any almonds.”
“I don’t even think you could spell almond, much less tell me what they taste like.”
Eren simply pouts in refute, leaving you giggling at his expression. He doesn’t know if it’s possible, but you seem even prettier in Paris than in Nice. But, that’s probably his rose-colored glasses speaking.
“You think there’ll be macarons at the reception?” you question, biting into yet another pistachio flavored treat, “And if not, would it be rude to bring my own?”
He chuckles. “Yes, babe, I’m sure there will be macarons there.”
He’s always loved Paris, even when his mom moved away here and left him in New York, and he’d always loved it more when you’re with him. He feared that having to attend another, what he considered to be wasteful, wedding in arguably one of his favorite places in the world would leave a bitter taste in his mouth; but, thankfully, he’s only fallen deeper in love since being here.
“You sure you won’t be sick of them by tomorrow?” he asks, watching you debate between taste testing another variation of vanilla bean or rosé.
“How could I get sick of them?” you answer offhandedly, not sparing him a glance away as you choose the pink snack. How could he get sick of you.
“By the time we get back to New York you’ll have forgotten all about them,” he scoffs.
“Don’t worry I’ll quit it soon. I’ll have to eat something solid if I wanna take my meds and go to bed,” you spew with a smile, unaware of what you’ve actually just said, “But they are delicious and I have no regrets.”
Eren pauses. Then so do you, mouth stuffed with sickly sweet.
“I mean—”
“I know, you know,” he cuts you off, “About the meds and stuff.”
You look like you could pass out, or scream, or cry, or everything in between. Eren figures saying more is better than saying less, so he continues.
“I saw a bottle in the bathroom a few months ago,” he admits shyly, but careful about his tone, “Didn’t understand half the words on the label, but it had your name on it so I just, uh… Googled it.”
Of course he knows. Eren’s always kind of known, just never had the words to express it. He imagines that’s what you’re feeling right now.
“Oh,” you finally gape, “Why didn’t you, um… you know, like, say… anything?”
“It seemed like your secret to tell,” Eren shrugs, features softening out, “Besides, I figured you’d tell me when you wanted to.”
Eren’s always been better at showing than saying, anyway. He hopes that his actions, small as they may seem, might have provided you with any sort of comfort in the past few months. Maybe even before that, too.
“Oh,” you repeat, continually blinking at him, “That’s… that’s it? You’re cool with it?”
Now it’s Eren’s turn to blink. “What do you mean am I cool with it? They’re your meds.”
“Yeah, but like… you’re not mad I didn’t tell—”
“Of course I’m not mad,” he cuts you off with a soft smile, “It’s not really my business. I mean, like, you’re my business because I care about you, but you have your own private stuff, too, which is cool. Besides, when I was, uh, researching it, I learned that it can be hard to tell people stuff like that even if—”
Eren shuts up when he feels your weight against him and your arms wrapped around him. Shell shocked, he takes a moment to hug you back, and slowly comes to rest his chin atop your head after leaving a flurry of kisses.
“You didn’t have to look it up or do any kind of research, you know,” you mumble softly into his jacket. Eren borderline chortles, but only hugs you more tightly.
“Of course I did. If not for you, then for myself, because I meant it when I said I’d never seen half the words on the prescription before in my life,” he replies, heart glowing at the sound of your small chuckles.
He’s expecting an equally witty response, but you surprise him when you pull back just enough to face him, a hazy smile on your face. “You’re amazing, Eren.”
Don’t blush, fool. Don’t blush, fool. Don’t blush—fucking idiot.
“Yeah, I’m pretty great,” he boasts, leaning back into the coolest pose he could muster up while ignoring the growing heat creeping up his neck. It’s all in vain as you reach over to playfully tug at one of his ears.
He thinks you’re pretty like this. All the time, but most notably when he has you in his arms. So pretty, that he has to lean forward to kiss you; you don’t seem to mind, if the way you smile into the kiss is any indication of your feelings. Eren finds himself mirroring your grin; moving his arms from around your waist to the sides of your face.
The workers in this poor little café probably hate the two of you, but he doesn’t fucking care. He’s got his favorite girl in his arms right now, and you taste like almonds and coconuts and like the love of his life.
And he should tell you. Eren wants to tell you, and he finds himself wondering if those same intrusive, fearful thoughts were part of the driving force behind your own reason to keep your secrets from him.
You pull away from him, hands lightly draped around his neck, and you smile like you’re shy—like he hasn’t known you your whole life. Still, Eren finds himself smiling back; and thinks that if you were brave enough to tell him how you were feeling, then he should do the same.
“(_____), I… I gotta tell you something,” he starts, voice soft as his fingers curl around your waist a little more tightly, “Though, I’m kind of hoping you already know.”
You blink at him, almost innocently. Eren bites the inside of his jaw; you’re going to have to stop doing that before he jumps you again.
Better now than never, he supposes. He tries to shake his nerves when he takes your hands in his, completely covering them with his palms, and closes his eyes. Despite that, you try to offer him comfort, squeezing his fingers as best you can; and Eren takes that moment to thank his lucky stars for whoever decided to put you in his life. Because he knows that no matter what, even if he royally fucks this up, you’ll find some way to be there for him.
He slowly blinks his eyes open again, gaze resting on the ring around your neck. A faded chuckle escapes his lips when looks at it. The only one who got the wrong idea about his gift was you. But, he supposes that’s his fault; he never did explain it, after all.
“It’s nothing… It’s just that, I’m in—”
But Eren’s startled by a voice that makes him freeze. He almost wants to believe he misheard it, but he can hear the telltale clacking of vintage heels on the floor of the bakery and he knows that he didn’t mishear a thing.
Eren turns his head, and sure enough, there is his mother, in all her five foot glory, adorned in designer clothing from her beret to her shoes. With a fucking street urchin on her arm.
“Well, well, well, what a lovely surprise,” Carla beams, red lipstick perfectly in place even after a long day of wear.
Eren’s eyebrows draw together, as he takes in his mother and her fiancé standing in front of him. He can just barely register you calling out towards her, carefully maneuvering yourself off of his lap, and into the neighboring chair; but still keeping your right hand wrapped around his left. He can feel you squeeze it—whether to give him comfort, or warning, he’s not sure yet; probably both.
“It’s so good to see you!” you beam, excitedly offering her and Mitchell a seat across from the two of you at the table. Eren opens his mouth to refute, but you squeeze his hand again; a warning.
Carla leans forward to encase you in a hug, exchanging cheek kisses, and leaving Eren to stare at the street rat across from him. Mitchell seems to know better than to make eye contact with him, irises scattering from Carla’s back to the décor of the bakery while the two girls catch up.
“We missed you at the rehearsal dinner on Sunday,” Carla recounts, eyes fluttering to Eren’s briefly. One look into her son’s eyes, and she understands why; one look into his mother’s eyes, and Eren knows she has him all figured out. “I was worried you might not show at all.”
Eren strategically averts your gaze when you turn your head towards him, choosing to look at his mother instead.
“I didn’t even know there was a rehearsal dinner,” you tell her, tone polite, but Eren can hear the clear jab directed towards him, “I’m sorry, I—we would have gone, otherwise.”
“No need to apologize, darling,” Carla smiles, “I’m sure you two were very busy.”
“We were,” Eren cuts in, words definite. He sees a hint of surprise flash in his mother’s eyes briefly, expertly covered up with her sweet demeanor. She only nods in understanding, sitting back a bit to wrap her arm around Mitchell’s.
“What are you even doing here, Ma?” Eren questions, even as you do the same with his hands under the table, “Isn’t it bad luck to see the groom before the wedding.”
“After the third or fourth wedding, you grow tired of pleasantries and superstitions, my love,” she replies, “This place makes Mitchell’s favorite macarons, we thought we’d share a few before the big day. Maybe get some tea as a pre-celebration.”
The topic of sweets has you speaking up once again, engaging both his mother and Mitchell in a discussion about them, and your other findings from bakery hopping earlier. If Eren didn’t love you to pieces, he would have left the table a long time ago.
It carries on much longer than he can bear to endure; almost an hour of you, and his mother, and Mitchell making pleasant conversation while he tries his best not to brood beside you, but it’s futile. He feels like a little kid again. Stuck at the dinner table with his mother and a man he was being forced to get to know, only for him to become a stranger to him in a matter of months.
Eren grinds his teeth into each other when you laugh at something Mitchell says. He’s not going to sit through his any longer; or ever again.
“Well, this has been fun,” Eren says, voice blatantly monotonous as his cuts through the conversation, “But we should all probably head back go to bed. Big day tomorrow.”
“Eren, we should—” but, he stands up quickly, hand wrapping around yours to force you upwards too.
He doesn’t care to look at you, knowing the dissatisfied expression he’ll be met with. He fishes for his wallet and pulls out too many Euros, neatly tucking them under an unused knife to pay for the meal.
Eren’s steps out from between his chair and the table. “We’ll see you guys tomorr—” But is stopped before he can take three steps away.
His mother’s hand wrapped around his wrist. She stands, significantly shorter than Eren’s full height. “Actually, Eren, could I borrow you for a bit?”
And he doesn’t want to, because he knows exactly the conversation waiting for him. But he looks down at her, lets his eyes flicker to you, and back to her, and he knows he doesn’t have the heart to walk away. Not even if he tried.
He sighs with a shallow nod. He can feel your hand on his shoulder, the proud smile on your lips when you tell him that you’ll meet him back at your hotel. Mitchell ensures him and Carla that he’ll make sure you get back safely, and Eren still can’t stand the guy, but he’s grateful that he can at least be of use for something.
Eren kisses you on the forehead briefly, a promise to you and himself that he’ll finish his confession later. After all, he probably should come to terms with the woman who taught him what love is before he vowed to love you for the rest of his life.
The walk to his mother’s hotel is silent, Eren choosing to keep to himself, hands stuffed in his pockets to prevent his mom from holding them. He’s probably acting like a child, but isn’t that what he is to her; isn’t that she treats him as.
“Look, Ma, you don’t need my approval to marry him,” Eren grumbles, when they finally exit the elevator into the hotel room, “It doesn’t matter to me.”
“Of course I don’t,” Carla offers him a small grin, even if he won’t look at her directly, “But it matters to me.”
“Why does it matter now? It didn’t matter with Keith, or Henry, or Henri with an I, or any of the others,” Eren mumbles, reluctantly taking a seat on the stool opposite the vanity.
His mother tracks his movements with soft eyes and an amused grin as Eren absentmindedly bends a knee and begins to fiddle with the hem of his pants. Just like he used to when he was upset as a child.
“It mattered then, too, Eren,” she tells him, sitting on the stool and facing him.
He’s surprised by her words, his wide eyes giving him away even if he attempts to act unfazed. “It didn’t seem like it.”
Carla opens her mouth to speak, but closes it, words stuck in her throat. She watches Eren’s hunched figure, her tall son not even bothering to look her in the eyes. She exhales slowly; if he were five feet smaller, he’d have tucked himself under her arm, still refusing to look at her, but he’d have snuggled his head into her side while he pouted anyway.
“I suppose it didn’t,” she admits, “In the end, the love wasn’t enough to make it last, then.”
Eren is quiet for a bit at that, pulling at his pants leg. “And… and you love him enough, now?”
“It’s more than love, Eren. It’s... happiness—for yourself and another person—it’s being okay with somebody knowing you now, and forever. Whichever version of you that is.”
“Then why did you marry them before?” Eren asks, “If you knew it wasn’t enough, if you knew it was just going to end up as another big mistake.”
“Maybe the marriages were a mistake, and some of what came with them, but I don’t think the feelings were,” Carla muses, “Love is never wasted.”
“How can you say that?” Eren questions, disbelief and exasperation painted on his face, “Of course it is—you wasted your time, and your money, and your—your everything on those people who couldn’t care less about you now!”
“Eren—”
“You let them into our house,” Eren speaks over her, “You let them into your life, and they left. They always left—”
“Eren—”
“—And you even let some of them come back! Everyone, you let everyone have another chance, another anniversary, another wedding,” He’s ranting, crying, hot, irrational tears streaming down his face; hiccups interrupting his speech, “So—so, so if it’s not wasted and everyone gets another chance and another chance and another chance—why didn’t he come back, huh? For his?”
Eren’s standing now, arms flailing every which way during his breakdown, but his mother doesn’t try to stop him. She lets him continue, hears him out.
“If it’s love—if it’s not wasted, and it’s real—then why didn’t he come back? Why didn’t he want to? Why—why didn’t he want me? Why did I end up the bastard?”
Eren looks his mother in the eyes for the first time in the duration of their conversation with that final question; with his vision blurry, and chest heaving, and cheeks wet. Carla has no words to say; can only carefully open her arms, and wait for her son to come crashing into them. And he does; and it rains and pours, and Eren holds onto his mother for dear life, and onto the pieces of her breaking heart.
“Am I not good enough to have that kind of love?” Eren asks through tears, “Am I not special enough to want to know?”
“Eren,” she finally speaks, moving to cradle his head in her hands, “You don’t have to be special or good, to be known or loved. It’s enough that you were born. That’s enough to make you deserving of love.”
She doesn’t mind the tears against her palms or the hiccups of Eren’s breathing, “And you already have it.”
And Eren looks at her with eyes wide and wild like a child, staring at the first person to have ever loved someone as messed up, and plain, and ordinary as him; and he can feel more tears bubbling at his eyes.
“Ma, I’m—I’m so sorry,” he chokes out, wrapping his arms around her even tighter, chin resting on her shoulder while his shake through his tears, “I’m so fucking sorry.”
Carla hugs her son as close as she can, like he’s five years old and the apple of her eye and she can take all his pain away. “You don’t have to be. You’re my son, and I’ll love you always.”
It feels like they have all the time in the world like that, to hug and cry and apologize; but Carla hopes Eren knows that he was always forgiven; that he never had anything to apologize for in the first place.
“She loves you, too, baby,” she coos, holding Eren as tight as possible, “But you have to let her know that. That you accept it.”
“Do you think she knows?” Eren asks, words muffled into the fabric of her clothing, “That I love her, too?”
“I do,” Carla confirms, pulling away to look at Eren in the eyes; his beautiful, shining, green eyes, “But I don’t think that either of you really realized it. I mean, you did give her an engagement ring, darling.”
Eren huffs at the memory, “She thought it was a gift.”
“Because you gave it to her as a gift.”
“I thought it was pretty obvious.”
“Love has a way of making people blind,” Carla muses, “Especially two lovesick semi-adults with too much money on their hands.”
Eren’s cheeks grow pink at the accusation, “It’s your money!”
“Yes, and I’m very happy to have it,” Carla chuckles, motioning for Eren to stand up. He does, and she looks up at him with glimmering, proud eyes. “Now, go, shoo. You have a girl to propose to, don’t you? There might be two Jaeger weddings this weekend.”
Eren nods, certain of himself for the first time in a while. He turns on his heel with a vigor igniting his footsteps, but pauses when he reaches the elevator. He makes a sharp turn, running back to his mom one last time, and squeezing her suddenly, and tightly against him.
“I love you, mom,” he says; the words too foreign on his tongue, and he vows to not let them be a stranger to his vocabulary from here on out.
“I love, you, too, Eren,” Carla calmly wraps her arms around her son one last time, “And I always will.”
You half-expected your walk back to your hotel with Mitchell to be painfully awkward, but he proves to be a pleasant conversationalist, even in Carla’s absence.
You know that Eren isn’t fond of him, but you wish that he would at least give him a chance. There’s no way to know if a marriage—if any relationship—will last forever, but, sometimes, you think it’s not about knowing about forever; but, rather about wanting it to make it there; about willing to go the distance with that person.
You can see that want, that willingness that works alongside love in Mitchell and Carla’s relationship, that stands out from her past marriages. You get the feeling they’re going to last; and that, most importantly, they both want it to, too.
It’s quiet out as you both walk the streets of Paris, Mitchell taking the time to point out small notes in architecture that interest you. You readjust your jacket as a gust of wind washes over you, careful to make sure your necklace doesn’t snag against your clothing.
“That’s a beautiful ring,” he calls to you gently.
“Thank you,” Surprised, you quickly let out an embarrassed cough, looking down to your left hand resting atop the uppermost button on your coat. “It was a gift.”
“I meant that one,” Mitchell corrects, carefully gesturing to his own neck to indicate that he was talking about the ring on your necklace, and not the one on your finger.
“Oh, thank you,” you repeat, “That one was actually a gift, too.”
The older man hums, continuing your walk to your hotel. “Must have been one hell of a gift. I don’t know many people who give out engagement rings as presents.”
“Oh, no, no, no, it wasn’t—it’s not an engagement ring,” you tell him, feeling a warmth creep up your cheeks even in the chilly atmosphere of the night, “Eren gave it to me, actually, a few years ago—it was a Christmas gift.”
“Eren, huh?” Mitchell smiles fondly, “That makes sense. Carla tells me how much he cares about you.”
“You—she does?” you stutter. Mitchell nods. “I—I mean, I care about him, too.”
“Enough to accept an engagement ring from him, it seems,” Mitchell taunts, “I’m no specialist, but I know a Harry Winston piece when I see it. They’re not cheap.”
“Trust me, I know,” you scoff, “I almost killed him when I saw how much he spent on it.”
“And you took it, anyway?”
“Well, he—he was supposed to return it,” you defend yourself, “Because I didn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea! But he just, well, he gave me the other one instead, so I wear that one on my hand.”
Mitchell pauses, just as you both stand to the entrance of your hotel. “And what was the wrong idea you didn’t want people getting.”
“That... that...,” you pause, thinking back to that Christmas day.
Even though Eren is known for spending ludacris amounts of money, the ring came as a genuine surprise to you. A couple thousand on shoes, sure—you’re victim to that yourself; a couple hundred thousand on a lavish vacation wasn’t out of the ordinary, either; but a million, maybe even more, on a ring that you could have only ever asked of him in your dreams was another thing completely.
And, sure, even a few million didn’t mean much to you or Eren at the end of the day, but it wasn’t just the price; it was the object of the money, too. To accept a house, or a car, or a jet for that amount is something you could rationalize; but a ring seemed foreign, and far out of your league.
Then there was the display and value it held beyond money. It’s beautiful, gorgeous, but more than that, it’s tailored to your exact liking. The synthesis of your aesthetic and everything you could ask for, garnished with the memory of Eren in the very design; the diamonds you love, the flowers that remind him of you, and the way they stems wrap around each other and the petals meet in the middle.
A small gasp leaves your lips and instinctively, you reach to clutch the ring in your hold. There was no way this was an engagement ring... Eren hadn’t proposed to you when he gave it to you—in fact, he was so casual about it, that it had you stunned that he hadn’t thought to consider that other people might think it meant something more than what he intended it to be.
But, looking back, it seems like you’re the only one who didn’t understand what was going on. Because Eren told you, even then, that he’d wanted you forever; you didn’t know how to hear him. It was all right there—not just in the ring, but in all his gifts, in the entirety of your friendship.
Eren loves you, more than you could ever know.
“It’s an engagement ring,” you say aloud, but more to yourself than to Mitchell, “Oh my god, it’s an engagement ring.”
Mitchell can’t do anything but smile at your revelation. You’re practically bouncing off the walls, connecting the puzzle pieces of your relationship in the middle of the street at damn near midnight, but you don’t care; because it finally feels right, and it finally, finally all makes sense.
“He, but he never pro—oh my fucking god, I’m going to kill him.”
You feel elated and confused and happy and murderous all at once. Eren wanted to marry you; Eren loved you. He wants you for the rest of his life, and you’ve been too blind to see it this entire time.
Still, you think that maybe a verbal proposal might have helped to open your eyes a bit.
“Mitchell, I have to—”
You’re cut off by the echo of your name coming from the opposite end of the street, and you can just barely make out of Eren’s figure in the faded lights of the street lamps. His name falls from your lips like a whisper, and you hardly register Mitchell’s amused, soft laughter from beside you.
“I think that’s my cue,” he says, patting you on the shoulder, “I better get back to Carla. Something tells me you two have a bit to talk about.”
You can barely nod at him, eye still wide and stunned, but a smile on your face even in your fearful anticipation. You don’t have time to thank him before he turns away, bidding you goodnight; and then you have something else to focus on, as Eren’s footsteps grow louder, and his silhouette grows sharper the closer he gets to you.
He practically crashes into you, chest heaving, hair wind-swept and wild from his running. He puts his hands on your shoulders, to steady himself physically and mentally, labored breaths ghosting over the top of your head.
“Hi,” he finally squeaks; and that stupid, big, dopey grin is on his face.
It’s ridiculous, so utterly ridiculous that you can’t help but greet him back. The two of you stand there, smiling like fools for god knows how long, before the realization strikes you for a second time.
Eren opens his mouth to finally speak, but a pained squeal leaves his lips instead as he feels the back of your hand slap his chest. “Ouch—hey, what was that for!”
“What the hell do you think you were doing proposing to me without telling me?” you screech, packing another punch to his chest for good measure, but it’s a poor barrier and does nothing to stop your tears from falling, “You’re an idiot, I should kill you for this, you know that, Eren Jaeger?”
Eren laughs softly, only to be heard by you in close proximity. He takes your offending hand in his, and reaches for your other, pulling both of them between your bodies. He can feel tears welling in his own eyes, as he looks down at the necklace, glimmering perfectly under the moonlight.
“In my defense, the first thing you told me to do when I gave it to you was to return it.”
“I might not have said that if you told me what it meant,” you can hardly choke out a laugh through your tears; and Eren can’t stop his from falling either, “It’s insane, you know. This whole thing—to ask me to marry you at 19. For me to not realize until we’re 21.”
“I know,” Eren agrees, inching closer even though there’s barely any room between you, “I know. But I know I love you, every version of you. I always have, I always will.”
You close your eyes as Eren’s hands move to your face, gingerly sweeping your tears away from your cheeks. He feels too close, it feels like too much; but you don’t want him to move.
“You know... if you had asked me, then,” you start, blinking your eyes open with a sniffle; you’re met with Eren’s emerald greens one with far too much hope and love glimmering in them, “I—I don’t even know what I would have said.”
“And if I asked you now?”
You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, slowly raising your hands to wrap around Eren’s wrist, and lower them to your neck, before looking at him again, “Ask me.”
Eren blinks, carefully trailing his hands up and around your neck, nimble fingers undoing the clasp of your necklace. He hardly lets the chain pool into his hand before it’s tossed aside, and the ring is still between his thumbs and index fingers as he lowers himself on to one knee.
“You are the love of my life, and there’s not a single version of life—a single version of you, or me—where I don’t want to be with you forever,” Eren says, “And you know how shit I am with my words, but I fucking mean it. I swear to you, that I’ll do my best every day to show you how much you mean to me; marry me, and I’ll prove it to you, I swear, I will.”
Your lips are wobbling at Eren’s confession below you, and you can just barely beckon him upwards in your state. He’s hardly back on two feet before you’re pulling him against you, ghosting the word “yes” on his lips before you kiss him.
You both melt into the kiss, Eren’s hands skillfully cupping your cheeks, while he keeps the ring in his hold and bruises your lips together.
“You don’t have to prove it to me, Eren,” you assure him, hand shaking when you pull apart and let him slip the ring onto your finger—where it belongs, “You already have.”
For his first birthday as a married man, Eren requested something intimate. He wanted just a small celebration with all of your mutual friends, some good food, alcohol, and lots of fun.
Supposedly simple and intimate for him entailed renting out the top floor of the Whitney, which was currently encasing an exhibit portraying some kind of abstract modern art that allowed for a very drunk Eren and Armin have to entertain themselves by trying their best to recreate the paintings using very flawed couples aerial yoga.
The art, paired with the dimmed lighting, Jean’s choice selection of overtly sexual music, and Eren’s pick of overpriced champagne also meant that Marco, Bertholdt, Connie, and Sasha found everything ten times funnier than they were—which meant they were a million times louder than usual.
Jean stands next to you by the bar, watching as Eren attempts to hold Armin above his head by holding on to just his waist. They’re unsuccessful, of course, resulting in both boys toppling onto the ground as the majority of their older friends laugh along.
“Lucky me, I get to take him home at the end of the night,” you drawl, turning to the bartender to order another drink.
She smiles, easily preparing your martini and sliding it you with an inquiry. “That’s your boyfriend? The tall one with the brown hair?”
“No,” you sigh, eyes closed for a moment before taking the glass between your fingers. “That’s my husband, unfortunately.”
× even more notes: this fic. is my baby. it’s been a draft of mine for over two years at this point. it’s gone through various fandoms but i’ve never quite been able to complete and post it, so i’m very happy that it’s finally here! i hope you all enjoyed, and i just wanted to say that i’m glad to finally have been able to share this with you all!
#attack on titan#aot x reader#snk x reader#eren x reader#aot imagines#snk imagines#eren smut#eren fluff#levi x reader#I DONT WANNA TALK ABOUT IT
5K notes
·
View notes
Text
I Have Found You
Click here for my masterlist.
Add yourself to my taglist.
Aaron Hotchner Taglist - @braelyniskool, @canadailluminate, @filmsbyblair, @ready-4-spencie, @mrs-scottmccall, @j-cat, @cinderellacauseshebroke, @black-rose-29
Prompt - I have for the first time found what I can truly love. I have found you.
—————————————————–
You and Aaron had had a long week at work, each on separate cases but both equally as drained as the other. Your job saw you travelling to and from New York each day, working for one of the states best law firms, it was hard working your way up but you did it and now you were dealing with high profile cases day in and day out.
This case was particularly gruelling but it was finally finished and you had won. It was a small victory for the family but it was a victory nonetheless.
Aaron was working on his own case, he had been in Las Vegas for the past four days dealing with a serial killer who was targeting families. The unsub was organised, too organised, and more families were killed before they finally caught a break. From there it had been a matter of hours before they caught the man and the team was back on the jet.
Aaron finished up on the phone before dropping down into his seat beside Rossi who raised an eyebrow at him.
“Short of an emergency we all have Friday and Monday off, I don’t want to see any of you for four days.” Aaron announced to the jet, smiling as it was filled with cheers and laughter.
“So, big plans?” Rossi asked, smirking at Aaron who just rolled his eyes.
“I plan on doing absolutely nothing.” Aaron replied with a smile, already thinking of how great it would be to spend a long weekend with you and Jack, it had been far too long. He had already spoken to you and upon hearing the good news of your case asked if you could get two days off and thanked god that you could.
“I hear you, man.” Derek spoke up from opposite Rossi. “Four whole days of nothing but me and my girl.”
“What about you, kid?” Rossi asked, looking at Spencer who sat opposite Aaron.
“There’s a film festival I really wanted to go to actually, it's showing a bunch of different films in their original language.” Spencer told him and the grin on his face was enough to stop any teasing.
“Have a good time, pretty boy.” Derek smiled back, ruffling the younger man's hair causing him to pout.
Aaron couldn’t help but smile at the scene but as much as he loved this family, he couldn’t wait to get back home to you and Jack.
-
“How hard can cupcakes be, right?” You asked Jack, who stood on a chair in front of the counter. The two of you were staring at the ingredients that were spread out, not knowing where to start. When you suggested Jack make something for Aaron you were thinking more along the lines of a picture but when the kid suggested cupcakes well…you really wanted cupcakes.
“Right.” Jack agreed, grinning up at you.
Turns out it was harder to make cupcakes than either of you thought.
Aaron walked into the house, smiling immediately as he heard Jack giggling madly. He was quick to follow the noise but stopped abruptly as he stared into the kitchen.
“Daddy!” Jack yelled, quickly scrambling off the chair and throwing himself at Aaron who caught him and lifted him with ease despite the cupcake mixture that stuck to his clothes, face and hair.
“Hey buddy,” He grinned, turning his attention to you. There you stood, cupcake mix splatter on your face, in your hair and on your shirt. You looked dejected as you held an electric mixer, clearly the culprit of the cupcake explosion. “It looks like you and Y/N are having fun.” He said with a laugh, watching how you pouted up at him.
“We were gonna make cupcakes for you, daddy, but Y/N put it on too high.” Jack informed Aaron, giggling madly as he did.
“I didn’t know!” You defended, there was a reason you weren’t trusted in the kitchen.
Aaron’s smile grew and he couldn’t wait any longer to move closer to you, the hand that didn’t hold Jack caressed your cheek and he brought you in for a soft kiss. It didn’t last long, how could it with Jack laughing and making kissing noises, but the two of you pulled away with matching, love struck smiles before you and Jack began laughing together at the cupcake batter that was now perched on Aaron’s nose.
He rolled his eyes but couldn’t fight back the smile.
“Alright, alright,” he said, gaining both of your attention, “how about you two get cleaned up and we can all go out for dinner and then get some cupcakes, hm? That sound good?” He asked Jack who nodded with a grin and squirmed for Aaron to put him down. Once he did, Jack shot off to his bedroom and Aaron turned his attention to you.
“You can’t of thought that was a good idea.” He said as he wrapped his arms around your waist, leaning in to steal another kiss.
“The kid said cupcakes, who was I to say no?” You responded when he pulled away, giggling as he trailed kisses to your jaw and then peppered them down your neck.
Your eyes closed as you tilted your head back, giving the man more access and you couldn’t help but whine as he pulled away. The whine quickly turned into a laugh as he leaned closer and licked a blob of batter that had stuck to your neck.
“Go clean up, baby.” He said before kissing your head and untangling himself from you.
You and Jack were quick to clean yourselves up and soon you were all out the door and heading to a restaurant that you often frequented when you had Jack.
-
It felt like forever since you had been out with the Hotchner boys and you enjoyed every minute of it, no annoying work calls pulling one of you away, no looming threat of Aaron being called to a different state. No, just you, Aaron and Jack going out together, eating good food, catching up with each other properly.
It was wonderful.
“Cupcakes now daddy?” Jack asked as the waitress cleared the plates.
“Yeah, cupcakes now daddy?” You echoed with a smirk watching as Aaron playfully glared at you.
“Sure thing buddy,” He said to Jack, causing you to let out a quiet laugh. “Pick which one you want.”
Aaron couldn’t tell you who smiled wider when dessert was brought out, you or Jack. Both of you tucked in with the same hunger and he just smiled at the scene.
When you and Aaron had first met, it was to do with a case he was working on. He never expected it to blossom into this. The friendship was unexpected but not unwelcome and then before either of you had realised it you had developed feelings for one another.
You were quite a bit younger than him and he was hesitant to bring the feelings up, not understanding what you could possibly see in an older, divorced, single father.
That was the other issue, sure you knew about Jack but there was a difference between knowing about him and wanting to be a part of his life and as much as Aaron had liked you he knew he couldn’t bring somebody into his life who couldn’t accept Jack.
So the pining went on for months as Aaron made the decision for you that you didn’t want to be burdened with a child that wasn’t yours. And when you finally pulled Aaron’s head out of his arse and made him talk about the feelings between you, you could have slapped him silly.
Sure kids weren’t exactly your forte but you’d at least have liked the chance to decide that. From there Aaron had introduced you to Jack after the two of you went on a few dates. The two of you decided the best place would be out in public, a little less daunting and that’s how you ended up at the zoo.
Jack had warmed up to you rather quickly and you surprised yourself with how good you were with him. Eventually it was Jack asking if you could have a sleepover at their house rather than Aaron trying to explain that you might be there in the morning sometimes.
Aaron was so glad you had talked him out of his own head way back when, and as he watched you with Jack, he knew, not that there was any doubt, that he’d made the right choice.
-
“Can we watch a movie?” Jack asked as the three of you entered the house.
“Buddy, it’s nearly bedtime.” Aaron reminded him as he took your coat from you before taking his own off.
“Please daddy,” Jack pleaded, turning on the puppy dog eyes, “I’ll brush my teeth and put my pyjamas on.”
He looked at you but you were looking down at Jack with a soft smile and he couldn’t say no if he wanted to.
“Deal, teeth and pyjamas, we’ll meet back here in five.” Aaron said and grinned as Jack took off running.
“C’mere baby,” He mumbled as he pulled you closer to him, wrapping you up in his arms. “I missed you so much.”
“Missed you too.” You confessed into his chest before titling your head up. Aaron was quick to turn his head, leaning down and capturing your lips in a soft, slow kiss. When he pulled away he didn’t go far, resting his head on your forehead.
“Can’t wait to have you all to myself these next few days.” He told you quietly, fingers brushing against your waist.
“Me neither, it’s going to be heaven.” You replied, matching both his tone and the smile on his face.
“Daddy,” Jack’s voice pulled you away from each other and you turned to see the kid grinning up at Aaron showing his freshly brushed teeth and proudly wearing his Captain America pyjamas. “You and Y/N/N need your pyjamas too.”
“Of course we do!” You exclaimed, taking Aaron’s hand in yours and pulling him towards the bedroom with instructions for Jack to put a movie on.
“Really can’t wait to have you all to myself.” Aaron said again as he watched you pull your shirt over your head.
“Down boy.” You laughed, throwing the shirt at him.
Watching you undress made Aaron long to touch you but seeing you dressed in his clothes, sweatpants that were way too big for you and a college shirt that drooped off your shoulders was somehow infinitely sweeter.
“I love you.” He told you, pulling you close to place a kiss on your exposed shoulder.
“I love you too.” You smiled before turning around and kissing him. “Get changed.” You ordered.
“Yes ma’am.” Aaron laughed but did as you said.
Aaron couldn’t help but smile as he held his family in his arms. Jack was half in your lap and half in Aarons and you were sat flushed against him, head resting on his shoulder and your hand holding Jack’s leg.
The movie was still playing but Jack was fast asleep against his chest and you were pretty close to following. Despite that though, Aaron couldn’t bring himself to move and send you both to bed. Instead he tightened his grip on both of you, smiling as you cuddled further into him.
This, this was all he needed, you and Jack by his side. His little family, both of whom had been through so much. All he wanted to do was protect both of you and he would, god would he do anything to protect the pair of you.
You were one of the best things that had happened to him, he had known it since the day he had met you and he had known it two weeks ago when the team finished a case in California and he walked into the jewellers to buy the ring and he knew it now, looking down at you holding onto him and Jack.
He knew you were the best thing to happen to him in a really long time and he would forever be thankful that he had found you.
#aaron hotch x reader#aaron hotchner reader insert#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotch imagine#aaron hotchner imagine#hotch x you#hotch imagines#hotch imagine#hotch x reader#hotchner imagines#Hotchner imagine#Hotchner x reader#criminal minds x y/n#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds fluff#criminal minds imagines#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds#aaron hotchner#cm fluff#cm one shot#cm imagine#cm imagines#cm fic
485 notes
·
View notes
Text
pretty pink rose
you hate eren and eren hates you— at least, you think he does.
pairing. eren x fem!reader
warnings. a whole lot of nasty smut like im talking some good ol’ car smut, thigh riding basically (minors, pls 4 the love of god do not interact), language, reference 2 drugs/drug usage (only weed but still), underage drinking, not rly a warning but this is a modern college au w 19 year old stoner manbun fuckboy eren mmmm
a/n. something ab eren in the last few ep got 2 me.... he’s so fucking hot and for WHAT so here u guys go! some nasty, shameless, self-indulgent eren smut (also eren is 100% a boob guy im not accepting any other answers sorry) sorry if this is Not Good i just had 2 let out some of my pent up eren h*rniness
“You’re annoying,” you had told him once.
“Yeah, well, you’re no walk in the park either, princess,” had been his sarcastic response.
▲▼▲
A deep voice called your name, and you turned around, bouncy hair swaying along with your movements.
“Hey there, pretty girl!” Jean playfully yelled, and the rest of your friends joined in to compliment you.
You smiled bashfully, playfully posing to display your outfit before blowing kisses to all of your friends. You were wearing a thin red dress, both casual and stylish for the night ahead. You were a bit annoyed at the fact that you had to pull the dress down every time it rode up with the slightest of movements, and you secretly hoped you didn’t flash anyone tonight. The dress did compliment your tits, displaying them in a teasing yet comfortable way, and that was reason enough for you to ignore the slight annoyance. You relished in the fact that this dress showed off your toned body, and you grew excited at the night ahead.
You were all currently at Sasha’s house, preparing to leave for the new club that had opened downtown. You typically weren’t one for nights out, as you preferred relaxing after your long week of classes and work, yet it had been way too long since your last club visit, and you had been itching to let loose. Your friends, noticing the brutal stress you had been under this past week in particular, took advantage of your restless state and planned a night out with the rest of your friend group.
“I swear to god, if Reiner doesn’t show up in the next thirty seconds, I’m gonna— yo, Reiner! What’s up man?”
You joined in the laughter at Connie’s embarrassment, and you moved to hug Reiner, who had just entered the house. He whistled playfully at the sight of you, and you shoved him with your hip.
“Looking good,” Reiner lowly mumbled with a smirk, your name slipping out of his lips.
“I could say the same to you!” You teasingly smiled, and he ran a hand through his long blonde hair, attempting to conceal his slight blush.
“Yeah, the goatee has that effect on the ladies,” he boasted, running his hands down his goatee teasingly and you rolled your eyes, shoving him with your hip again.
The room was bustling with excitement and activity, and you silently observed everyone, enjoying the lively atmosphere. Sasha, who had been standing next to you, began to talk loudly to get everyone’s attention.
“Alright, listen up!” Sasha quickly threw a handful of potato chips in her mouth, before elaborating. “We’re all here now, and we’re taking Armin’s van, so if you’re not ready to roll out in, like, five minutes, we’re leaving you behind!”
Some people began to jokingly boo Sasha, and she ignored them, reminding everyone to pre-game as much as they wanted, since word got out that the club wouldn’t sell to minors. You swiftly made your way to the kitchen, itching for something to loosen yourself up for the night. You passed by Armin, who sent a quick apologetic smile towards you, and you briefly wondered why when your eyes met deep jade ones from across the room.
Understanding crossed your features, and you internally prepared yourself for the interaction.
“No use turning around now, is there, princess?” He sarcastically rasped.
Composing yourself briefly, you walked to the counter, pretending as if you hadn’t seen or heard Eren.
“A little too old for the silent treatment, don’t you think?”
You grimaced and turned around, leaning your body against the counter.
“Eren, hey!” You exclaimed with fake enthusiasm, blinking many times for dramatics, before your eyes grew half-lidded and your features dropped into a bored expression, “Happy?”
“Bursting with joy,” he mocked, an unamused look on his features.
You took the time to observe him subtly. He was wearing a plain white t-shirt, though you didn’t really see much use for it since you could clearly see the indentations of his broad chest down to his stomach. You noticed a black leather jacket draped across his chair. His biceps flexed with every movement of his arms, and you forced yourself to avert your eyes from them.
God, you really needed to get laid.
His hair had been messily pulled back into his signature bun, and dark wisps fell over his forehead, framing his handsome face in a way that made you look twice. He was sitting at Sasha’s kitchen table, legs wide open and stretched out in front of him, as his arm rested on the table. His black pants only complimented his muscular thighs, and your eyes trailed up over his figure, before meeting his amused eyes again. You looked away quickly, attempting to hide your warming face.
Eren smirked.
“You checking me out?”
“Yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Jackass,” you venomously snapped, realizing how tightly wound you were already becoming.
“Woah, the claws are out already! Princess having a bad day or something?” Eren cooed mockingly, and you turned around, fully aware that you were falling into his trap, yet irritated enough to not care.
You especially hated when he called you “princess”.
“Did you ever think maybe I act like this because you’re just a shitty person?” You spat, not caring at all if you were being too harsh.
You loved your friend group, you really did, but you really really disliked Eren.
You noticed his eyes had darted down to your thigh, and you looked down only to see that your dress had ridden up considerably.
Pervert.
“Case in point,” you muttered lowly, eyebrows twitching in irritation.
You scoffed and adjusted it, before hastily looking around for a drink. Once your eyes landed on a shot glass, you filled it up with the closest bottle of Vodka, and threw your head back to drink it, internally cringing at the burn in your throat. You glanced back at Eren, who had now bent one of his legs closer to him. Eren had ignored your insult, smile widening at your attitude.
Silence fell in the kitchen, an odd contrast to the booming atmosphere in the living room. No matter how hard you tried, Eren’s presence was too heavy to ignore. Regardless, you took advantage of the few minutes of silence, as you grew lost in your thoughts, recalling the hard week you had endured. Suddenly feeling eyes on you, you snuck a quick glance at Eren’s large form, and you grew embarrassed upon noticing that he was already watching you.
He silently motioned with a tilt of his head to something on the table, catching your attention. Curiosity trumping your annoyance, you peered down at his hands, and noticed his fingers delicately rolling a joint.
“You wanna smoke?”
Normally, you would’ve immediately declined the invitation, especially since it was coming from Eren, yet your mouth moved before your mind could catch up.
“Yeah, I’m down.”
You hesitantly moved towards him, yet Eren seemed to sense your uncertainty. He shot you an inviting smile, and you faltered at the charm that radiated from him. He really was so handsome— it was a shame he was such an unbearable person.
He gently pushed the chair next to him, a silent invitation for you to sit, and you rolled your eyes, irritated once more.
“Ever the gentleman, aren’t you?”
He let out a breathy laugh, and for a fleeting second you forgot how unusual it was being somewhat civil with Eren. A strange feeling came across you at the pleasant sound.
You watched as he finished rolling the blunt, and he raised it towards you to lick the paper. You shot him a questioning glance, and he sent an encouraging nod. Too excited to experience a high and let loose for the first time in a while, you conceded and leaned forward, wetting your lips before sticking your tongue out and licking along the rolling paper that Eren held.
Your eyes rose and you glanced up at him as you continued to lick, and his intense green eyes unwaveringly held your own. Your breath hitched at the intensity of the moment, and you noticed Eren’s grasp on the joint grow tighter. You pulled away when you were finished, and his long ring-clad fingers resumed perfecting the joint.
He angled his head down slightly, pulling a red lighter out of his pocket. You rose a questioning eyebrow at Eren when he offered the joint to you.
“Ladies first,” he sweetly teased, before leaning in closer, “And here you said I wasn’t a gentleman.”
You were shocked into silence at the effortless charm he had. This was nothing like the Eren you had interacted with since college had started. You thought back to the snarky fuckboy you’ve had the pleasure of interacting with, and you internally grimaced.
“Thanks,” you mumbled, taking the joint from his large hands and sticking it between your parted lips. Eren leaned closer, and the smell of his cologne wafted through the air.
You shivered.
His large hand cupped the joint, eyes furrowed intently on the task, before he used his other hand to flick the lighter and hold it to the other end. The two of you were in this position momentarily, and he leaned back in satisfaction once it was lit.
You inhaled and felt the ashy taste roll through your mouth before hitting the back of your throat. You held the puff in, before softly exhaling, relief washing over you slowly. You closed your eyes and tilted your head back, basking in the feeling of the weed washing over you. You let out a soft moan.
Unbeknownst to you, Eren uncomfortably shifted.
You took one more hit, before passing it back to Eren, and he took the joint from you, leisurely taking his own two hits. Your soft hair splayed around you, as you tilted your head forward again, feeling both the weed and the alcohol take effect.
“God, I really needed that,” you softly mumbled, and Eren’s eyes shot up towards you, curiosity glimmering in them.
“Being a buzzkill can be tiring, I guess,” he responded, and you bit your inner cheek at the jab.
“Oh, not as tiring as being a fuckboy, I’d assume,” you bit back, surprising yourself— and him— with the lack of heat in your response.
What the hell was wrong with you?
You blamed it on the weed.
Your ears perked up as you heard that familiar breathy laughter, and you opened your eyes to see Eren lick his lips as he chuckled. You hated that you really liked the sound.
“No, but seriously— is it school?” He genuinely asked, passing the blunt to you again.
You were startled at the sincerity in his voice, and you blinked quickly. “Why do you care?”
You didn’t mean for it to come off as harsh as it did, but even intoxicated, you were aware of how weird it was for you and Eren to be sitting here, enjoying each other’s company for this long.
“I... I mean this is the most we’ve ever talked to each other, and... and I don’t like you,” you bluntly stated, before your eyes widened, and you reached over to rest a dainty hand on his muscular arm. “Sorry! I didn’t mean it like that, but you, uh. We don’t like each other.”
And there he was smiling that boyish smile. You felt a strange feeling in your chest.
“Who said I don’t like you, baby?” He cooed, and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes once again.
“Don’t call me that,” you halfheartedly mumbled, retracting your hand from his arm to play with your hair.
You conveniently ignored the heat that shot through you at the pet name.
You thought about it for a few more minutes, taking a hit, before exhaling softly and speaking.
“Yeah, it’s school. I have to start studying for my MCAT,” you softly confessed, “Pre-med is just really stressful, you know? Shit’s got me really drained... don't know if I have what it takes.”
Eren listened intently, his attention solely on you. He watched you take another hit, and he responded.
“Shit, I’m sorry,” his deep voice spoke your name, “I think you’ve got what it takes. Believe me, underneath that pretty head of yours is one massive fucking brain.”
You laughed bashfully, and Eren’s grin widened upon hearing the musical noise. You didn’t know Eren was even remotely aware of your academic achievements. A small sense of pride bubbled in your chest and you basked in it.
“No, but seriously,” he continued, “From what I’ve seen, you gotta let loose a little more. You’re gonna go batshit if you keep up this insane workload.”
“And your idea of letting loose is smoking weed with me in Sasha’s kitchen?” You incredulously laughed.
“Oh, absolutely,” he grinned, gently accepting the blunt from you, “But there are other ways you could let loose like, shit, I don’t know— when was the last time you fucked someone?”
Maybe it was the weed that made you so loose-lipped. Your face grew warm at the thought, and you dryly laughed.
“A year, I think?” You laughed in embarrassment again, before shyly adding, “It doesn’t really bug me anyway, my fingers do the job just fine.”
Eren stilled and his breath hitched, as he blinked a couple of times. He shifted again. You froze, and you felt your cheeks grow incredibly hot.
“I... I don’t know why I said that,” you hastily spoke, before throwing your head back and laughing loudly. You and Eren had been passing the blunt between yourselves, and you just noticed how small it had gotten.
“Alright, I think that’s enough for you, Princess Lightweight,” he said as he reached over to gently pry the blunt from your grasp. He quickly discarded it before turning his attention back to you.
Eren silently observed you, his heart racing after what you had just told him. He was already practically semi-hard after seeing you walk into the house, yet he didn’t think it could get any worse— until you two started talking. His green eyes danced around your figure, swallowing in the sight of you in a relaxed and playful mood. He had never seen you like this, and Eren reveled in the fact that your icy demeanor had disappeared for the first time around him. He was pulled out of his thoughts when he noticed your plump lips form his name.
“Eren?”
“Yes, dear?” He teased, and you chose to forego your typical eye roll, instead snickering softly.
He liked your laugh.
“When was the last time you fucked someone?” You shyly asked, curiosity (and weed) overpowering your embarrassment at asking such a question.
You knew you were being too naïve, too hopeful, and too horny. Never would you have thought that you’d be sitting here, silently hoping Eren would read your mind and fuel your fantasies, but you couldn’t deny the attraction you felt towards him in the moment.
You finally understood just why he was the resident fuckboy.
You scooted your chair closer to him, choosing to face him directly. The jerky action caused your tits to bounce slightly, and a heat spread throughout your stomach when you saw Eren’s eyes shamelessly dart down to them, mesmerized by the movement. Your eyes felt heavy from the weed, yet you couldn’t believe how confident you felt.
Eren’s eyes glanced up from your chest, and his tongue darted out to wet his lips. He swallowed, leaning back in his chair, and spreading his legs even wider, draping his arm on the chair next to him.
“A week ago.”
You felt your little fantasy shatter, and your eyes widened at his response. Right, you thought to yourself, You said it yourself— he’s the resident fuckboy!
You didn’t mind a casual hookup, but sex did have some meaning to you, and you were glad your fantasy was quickly brought to an end. You were too smart to let yourself be the new addition to the long list of girls who’ve been played by Eren Jaeger.
“Oh, right,” you mumbled, attempting to conceal your disappointed tone. Suddenly you were itching for another shot.
Eren’s eyebrows furrowed at the sudden change in your behavior, and he sat up straighter. “Hey, are you—”
“Hey, Eren! Come on, man, it’s time to—” Jean yelled in annoyance, before coming to a stop when he walked in the kitchen, “Oh, uh. Hey, guys.”
Everyone in the group had gotten used to yours and Eren’s immediate aversion to each other. While at first, it had been worrisome considering you were all a tightly-knit friend group, they all came to accept it— apart from a few snarky exchanges between you two here and there, you both kept it mostly civil for the sake of the group.
Jean was reeling from the too civil sight of you and Eren sitting so close together.
“Are you... are you guys, uh, good?” Jean slowly asked, when he narrowed his stare at Eren. “You behaving, Jaeger?”
Even slightly intoxicated, you could sense the silent threat in Jean’s voice. You sent an appreciative smile to the taller man.
“Yeah, man, we just smoked a blunt,” Eren casually responded, his focus still on you.
You nodded in agreement, standing up quickly to walk over to Jean. He had noticed your hazy red eyes along with Eren’s, so he smiled again— still a little unsettled at the sight of you two being so friendly— before gesturing to the front door.
“Well hurry it up before Sasha leaves you two behind!”
You all had made it outside, and you patiently stood in the cool air, as you waited for everyone to pile into the van. Eren was standing behind you, and you decided to completely ignore his presence (which was no easy feat, considering he was now wearing the leather jacket). You felt a bit uncomfortable, secretly regretting wearing such a short and thin dress— especially now that you were turned on. You felt goosebumps begin to form on your arms, and you wrapped your arms around yourself to warm yourself up a little, releasing a shaky breath.
You heard a rustling noise behind you, yet you decided to ignore it. You squeaked in surprise when a warm jacket was draped over your shoulders, and you turned around swiftly, only to be met with the sight of Eren in his tight white shirt. You looked down to confirm that he had wrapped his leather jacket around you.
Your half-lidded eyes widened slightly, and a soft blush had set into your face. “Wh—”
The jacket smelled so good, and you had to will yourself not to reach down and wrap it tighter around yourself. There was a faint smell of weed, yet his cologne, his enticing cologne, overpowered the smell, and you felt the heat pool in your lower stomach again.
“Don’t want you to freeze to death. Hypothermia is bad, right, Little Miss Pre-med?” He shot you that playful smile, and you stood dumbfounded.
You were once again stunned into silence at the effortless charm that radiated off of him. You couldn’t help but blink quickly as you began to push your arms through the sleeves of the large jacket, and you were amazed at the fact that it reached below your dress. Your cheeks grew warmer when you realized you liked it.
“Okay, bad news— there’s only one seat left,” Sasha interrupted, and you two turned around to face her.
Armin was driving, and Reiner sat up front with him, considering he was the largest of you ten. Jean, Mikasa, Marco, and Bertholdt squeezed together on the three seats in the middle, and Sasha had chosen to sit on Mikasa’s lap. You observed the varying levels of drunk that everyone was, yet the drunkest one by far was Connie, who was currently slumped over in one of the two seats in the third row. The last seat was the one next to him.
Realization set in, and you sent a silent thank you to God that you were sober enough to drive home. Though you were extremely disappointed, you attempted to cheer yourself up; spending your Friday night alone wouldn’t be too bad— maybe you could catch up on your chemistry notes. You began to fish for your keys in the pocket of your clutch, and failed to notice the movement around you.
“It’s okay, I’m good to drive home, so—”
You felt a sudden gentle grasp on your arm, before you were swiftly pulled into the third row of the van, and seated on something warm and comfortable. The doors to the van had shut, and everyone cheered at successfully being able to fit ten people in a Armin’s seven seater.
You, meanwhile, had gone rigid upon realizing that you were sitting in Eren’s lap. You sat still, your eyes widening significantly. You slowly turned your head to look at him, yet you were met with his shit-eating smirk. His cool eyes peered down into your own, and you blinked multiple times.
Even with you perched on his lap, Eren was still taller than you.
You glanced around, desperately hoping no one could see the clear embarrassment and discomfort radiating off of you, yet everyone seemed too excited for the night ahead. Animated chatter filled the air, and it turned into cheers and slurred singing when Reiner took the AUX to play music loud enough to give a club a run for its money. You glanced at Connie, who was slouched forward, resting his head on Mikasa and Sasha’s seat, talking to the two.
“Easy there, princess,” Eren suddenly leaned forward to whisper in your ear, and you shivered at the feeling of his hot breath on your ear.
Not wanting to let Eren find out just how hot and bothered you were, you haughtily faced forward and adjusted your position so you were sitting comfortably. You made sure to intentionally whip your long hair in his face as you turned around.
Eren’s grin widened from behind you, and amusement danced in his eyes at the entertaining sight.
The club was thirty minutes away, and you internally groaned at the absurdly long amount of time you’d have to spend on Eren’s lap. Belatedly, you realized his hands were nowhere near you, one resting at his side on the seat, while the other was holding his head up as it rested on the cup holders towards the side.
Huh, you mused, So he's keeping his hands to himself.
It had been ten minutes, and the ride had been uneventful for the most part. You had joined in on the singing, though you couldn’t bring yourself to enjoy as much due to how hyperaware you were of Eren. You snuck glances at him throughout the ride, silently admiring how handsome he looked staring out the window and basking in his high. The neon lights from the surrounding buildings and cars only served to highlight his perfectly straight and chiseled features.
You quickly looked away when his lips quirked up into an amused smile, despite him still continuing to stare out the window.
You attempted to shield yourself with your hair, mentally agreeing with yourself that you would not subject yourself to more embarrassment— you’ve already done plenty of damage and the night hadn’t even started.
Just then, Armin ran over a pothole, causing the van to jolt forward and backwards quickly. You let out an almost inaudible whimper when you felt your core rub up and down Eren’s thigh with the movement. Mortified, you froze and glanced around to see if any of your friends had noticed— they hadn’t. Armin yelled an apology over the music, and the lively atmosphere resumed. Eren hadn’t made any indication that he noticed, so you exhaled softly in relief.
You couldn’t deny the amount of heat that shot through you at the subtle movement. You briefly wondered if you’d be able to do it again without catching Eren’s attention. Blaming your risky actions on the weed and the alcohol again, you bit your lip softly and slowly rolled your hips against Eren’s thigh, attempting to play it off as you adjusting yourself. You paused, waiting for any sign that Eren had caught on, and you grinned to yourself when he didn’t change his position.
You continued your slow tenuous movements, your breathing growing slightly quicker at the feeling against of Eren’s muscular thigh against you. You felt yourself throb down there, and you pretended to adjust his leather jacket on you as you moved slightly faster. The heat that had pooled in your stomach began to grow hotter and hotter, when you suddenly felt his warm breath against your ear again.
“I know exactly what you’re doing,” he cheekily whispered, though you noticed an uncharacteristic rasp to his voice.
You stopped immediately, mortification eating you alive, as the guilt began to replace the arousal you were just feeling. You attempted to turn around to apologize profusely, when you felt two large hands sneak underneath the jacket to grip your hips. Your mouth went dry.
“Don’t stop on my account, baby. Go ahead,” he encouraged, and you could clearly envision the smirk that you heard in his deep voice.
You hesitantly began to move again, yet you gasped when his hands moved your body quicker, a silent encouragement from Eren to go faster. Eventually, you took over again, rolling your hips faster against his thigh, and you let out a shaky breath at the intense heat that began pooling in your stomach again. It was only heightened when Eren adjusted the two of you so that your back was flush against his chest, and you were pressed into his hardening crotch as you sat perched on his thigh.
Eren angled his face to continue to subtly whisper into your ear, while smoothing the side of your face and your ear with his mouth.
“There’s a good girl,” he cooed, lips dragging across your jawline up to your ear, “Fuck. You're so fucking pretty.”
His praise lit a fire within you, and you began to move faster, as you rolled your head back to rest on his broad shoulder. You closed your eyes, attempting to stifle your soft moans. You were grateful for Eren’s jacket, as it created a sort of barrier to conceal your actions from the others.
Eren flexed his thigh by lifting up his ankle so that its weight rested on the tip of his foot, and you felt the coil within your stomach so close to snapping. He continued to whisper in your ear and kiss alongside your jaw, before nipping at your ear.
“Look at the mess you’re making on my thigh, baby. You and your pretty little tits,” he rasped, and he used his left hand to softly skim up your body underneath the jacket.
His large hand stopped to palm at your tit, and he let it bounce slightly, before groaning lowly in your ear at the sight, and continuing up until his hand rested on your throat, making sure not to apply any pressure. You began to pant heavily at the feeling of his hand around your throat, and you knew you were seconds away from a really fucking good orgasm.
Eren sent soft kisses down your jawline to your neck before he darted his tongue out to wet the spot that connected the two areas. He then began to softly kiss, suck, and nip at the area, and you felt your eyes roll to the back of your head at the feeling. Eren shamelessly glanced down, mesmerized by the soft bouncing of your tits with every movement, before darting to the sheen slick that was on his thigh.
Your right arm quickly moved to wrap around Eren’s neck from behind you, and you ran your fingers through his soft hair, making sure not to undo his bun. He held in a groan at the feeling, and he urged you to move faster against his thigh. Eren noticed how far up your dress had ridden, and he moved the hand that had been resting on your hip to caress the soft skin of your thighs.
You were aware that if anyone turned around, they’d be met with the sight of you and Eren entangled within each other, yet you really didn’t care. You were enveloped in his alluring smell, all you could feel was his warm chest and arms, all you could hear was his deep groans and praises, all you could think was Eren.
Your orgasm was so close, you could feel yourself beginning to clench around nothing, and you rolled your hips harder against his thigh, your ass slightly making contact with his own clothed cock.
Eren noticed your approaching orgasm, and he began to encourage you again.
“Shit— come on, baby, cum all over my thighs. I’ve got you, come on.”
You let out a loud whimper at his dirty whispering, and you were right there when—
“We’re here!”
Loud cheers erupted within the van, and your movements came to a jerky stop when the lights throughout the van turned on with the opening of the doors. You noticed just how heavily you were panting, and you cringed in embarrassment at what you had just done.
Eren’s large hands were still gripping your hips.
You detangled your hand from his silky hair before shakily twisting your upper body around, and resting both your hands on his chest as you looked up at him. He gazed down at you with a lazy smirk on his face, a slight sheen of sweat on his forehead. You felt an indescribable warmth spread throughout your chest at the sight. You blinked quickly to distract yourself from your thoughts, and shame spread throughout your body.
“I... I’m so sorry, Eren, I uh— I don’t know wh—”
“Yo, you coming, Jaeger and— oh,” Reiner paused upon noticing the intimate position the two of you were in, though he was more shocked at the fact that it was you two. “Uh, you guys coming?”
You quickly looked around and noticed you were in the basement of a parking garage, and the van was suddenly empty. Your friends were all expectantly staring at you and Eren, with varying levels of surprise and amusement at the compromising position you two were in. You internally grimaced, and your hands shot down from his broad chest to rest in your lap. Before you could move, Eren’s hold on your hips tightened underneath the jacket, away from their view.
“Our little lightweight, here, isn’t feeling too well. I’ll stay with her and if she’s feeling better, we’ll come down and join you,” he smoothly spoke in a way that left no room for arguments from your friends.
He briefly looked down at you, and you paused as he tilted his head forward, as if he were silently asking for permission. You sent a subtle nod, mesmerized with the intensity of his bright eyes.
“Yeah,” you shakily agreed turning to your friends, though you noticed some of your friends were still slightly unconvinced. You sat up straighter, finally processing Eren’s teasing.
“Our little fuckboy, here,” you shot an annoyed glare at Eren as you mimicked him before turning to your friends again, “gave me some bad weed, but I think I just need to rest a little, and I’ll be fine!”
Eren’s grin only widened at your little jab.
Cute, he thought.
Bertholdt froze at the interaction and subtly turned to look at Jean, Reiner, and Connie, who all stood dumbstruck.
“Are they... flirting?” He asked incredulously.
“I think so?”
“What the fuck!”
“Reiner, pay up, man!”
Mikasa observed the two and turned to Armin upon her realization, only to be met with the sight of a tired Armin and a knowing look on his face. She offered a sympathetic smile, and Armin returned it with an appreciative one, before fishing his keys out of his pocket and handing it to Eren, signaling for the others to follow him and head to the club.
One by one, your friends offered encouraging words for you to get better before they left, and you felt slightly guilty that you were lying to them just to fuck Eren Jaeger. You were too lost in your thoughts to notice the threatening looks some of your friends had sent Eren, and the reassuring nod he had sent in response. The door slid shut, and the lights inside the van grew dim, as you realized you were now completely alone with Eren, and pressed into his hard crotch.
“Little fuckboy, huh?” Eren grinned, lifting the leg that you were perched on so that you toppled closer towards his broad chest.
Your hands automatically flew up to rest on his chest as you looked up at him, your blush darkening. You glared up at him playfully.
“You just graduated from the I-hate-you stage to the I-can-maybe-tolerate-you stage— do you really wanna ruin your progress?” You teased, biting on your tongue as you smiled.
A warmth erupted in Eren’s chest, and not for the first time that night, he chastised himself for seeking other girls’ companies out when you were always right there. He began to smile so widely and sincerely that you couldn’t help but mimic his contagious smile.
“And what if I say you’re at the can-I-take-you-out-on-a-date-soon stage?” He rasped, leaning in closer to you.
Your breath hitched, and the strange butterflies that hadn’t left your stomach went crazy. Your heart squeezed in a very unfamiliar feeling, and you blinked quickly before meeting his enchanting eyes again. You found it hard to believe that, not even an hour ago, you detested Eren.
“I’d say my answer depends on how hard you fuck me right now.”
▲▼▲
#ok posting this again bc im pretty sure t umblr fucked around n banned my post#eren jaeger#eren jaeger x reader#eren jeager#eren jeager x reader#eren jaeger smut#eren jeager smut#attack on titan#attack on titan fic#attack on titan smut#shingeki no kyojin#shingeki no kyojin fic#snk#snk smut#aot#aot smut
2K notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
transparent-idv
Transparent Identity V
fantasi36
YourMomMySexToy
teori-of-huh
oh no you found me
portlandfm
PORTLAND, OR.
fitgil
Gil's Fitness Blog