SERIES SYNOPSIS. after a string of casual dating mishaps leaves you unsatisfied, you find that the grass is greener in the front seat of your best friend’s car.
PART ONE LENGTH. 5.5k words | coauthor @akishroom
PART ONE WARNINGS. slight nsfw (18+, minors do not interact): fantasizing; vaping + smoking; aki is a Car Guy ™ so he drives a slammed car, teaches you to drive stick, and fixes a car up for you; reader and aki have a long history, reader is in makeup and a sundress, reader has a backstory and a personality; there’s a slight age gap (less than two years), but it’s exaggerated as a running joke between them.
A/N. heavy nasty smut in the next part HEHE this one’s mostly just buildup <3 ENJOOOOYYY
DO NOT INTERACT WITH THIS WORK IF YOU ARE A MINOR. BY CLICKING THE READMORE, YOU CONSENT TO VIEWING ADULT CONTENT.
: : reiner braun + fem! reader : : mdni : : 808 words : : established relationship, handcuffs, face sitting, pussy job, rough sex, creampie, overstimulation <3 : :
he looks so pretty like this, biceps bulging as he pulls against the fluffy pink handcuffs. golden eyes follow as your lips trail along his body, from the tip of his cock, to his muscular stomach covered by a layer of fat that’s just perfect to nip and bite at, the valley of his chest, up his thick neck, over his jaw. then, a slow kiss, your tongue sliding against his as you savour the taste of his mouth. you pull away with a playful glint in your eyes “i’m gonna sit on your face”.
reiner kisses your soft thighs, leaving little bite marks behind. he revels in your little gasps and moans when he sucks your puffy lips into his mouth. he could stay like this for hours, enveloped by the heady scent of your pussy, feeling the weight of your body on top of him. but more than anything he wants to watch you fall apart for him, legs shaking and body covered in a sheen of sweat. he slides his tongue through the velvety folds of your cunt and the vibrations of his low hums send your back arching and heat pooling low in your belly. he worships your pussy, knows every little spot that makes your thighs tighten around his face, knows just how to suck your clit, and then flicks his tongue over it in a way that drives you absolutely insane. drunk on your essence, he lifts his head to further smother himself in your heat. and he’s so obsessed with the way your hole clenches around nothing, the way it’s leaking and creamy from his touch.
you pull his hair as you frantically grind your pussy on his face, breath hitching every time his nose hits your clit. your moans obscenely loud and his face and chest a wet mess but you really don’t care at all. he doesn’t even get a warning when you cum all over him.
“fuck, baby,” he plants a sloppy kiss on your swollen cunt “you taste so sweet”.
he looks even prettier now. face flushed and glossy with your juices. and you had promised to be nice, but it’s such a hard promise to keep when you have him all to yourself like this. so you decide to be naughty instead.
“reiner,” his cock feels so good under your pussy as you sit on top of him. “do you want me to put it inside?”
he knows you’re teasing, but it’s worth a shot. “yeah,” he almost chokes on his words because, fuck, you look so good with your hair messed up and lips all swollen from biting them. and all he can think about is pressing your knees to your chest and fucking you silly.
you giggle in return, “but i want to do this.” and you start grinding your hips at a pace that is almost excruciatingly slow. “it feels-” a breathy moan escapes your parted lips as your clit bumps against the tip of his cock “it feels so good. you’re so hard.”
nails digging into his abs, you push your chest out just to tease him more. and his cock twitches every time your eyes roll back. and every time you moan. and every time he’s close to cumming you lift yourself off of him whispering in his ear how he’s making such a mess for you. how he looks so cute when he’s desperate.
the veins in his arms are popping out and his muscles straining as he pulls at the restraints. but with the way your legs are shaking, he knows you won’t last much longer. and the moment you unlock those handcuffs he has you face down on the bed, big hands spreading you open as he buries himself inside you in just one thrust. he presses down at the small of your back, his grip nearly bruising as he starts pounding into you. and you feel as if all the air has been knocked out of your lungs.
“is this what you wanted?” his breath hot against your ear, tone unusually serious. “has this greedy little pussy not had enough?” reiner has never spoken to you like this. and he’s never fucked you this hard. his pace so brutal that all you can do is whine and drool on the sheets as he splits you open on his length. “does she want more?” and with every thrust you slide further down, your limbs limp and giving out underneath the heavy weight of his body.
he fucks you until his cock feels raw, and his grunts turn hoarse and breathless against your neck. his cock twitching as he spills inside you, all sticky and warm and fills you to the brim. and he’s still panting as he presses a kiss on your cheek.
“i’ll carry you around tomorrow.”
thank you for reading! interaction is very much appreciated! ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
She’s gonna break your bank, and you’re gonna let her.
It’s always hard to say no to Nobara, but it’s impossible when she’s throwing a leg over your lap to straddle you, leaning forward to press her tits up onto you and making the old couch creak.
Perfume on her skin, bubblegum on her breath, lipgloss (shiny, sticky, sweet; you know the taste), on her pretty lips. They curve into an exaggerated pout, and her lashes flutter, and her back arches as she pushes her ass out—she knows what she’s doing, always does. Your hands come to rest on her thighs on instinct, itching to move upward.
: : reiner braun + fem! reader : : mdni : : 1,065 words : : established relationship, morning sex, creampie, overstimulation, use of tight as a descriptor : :
reiner sleeps on his stomach, his arms tucked beneath the pillow and facing you. broad back radiating heat against the breeze drafting in from the open window. he looks so beautiful like this. lips parted and eyebrows not knitted with worry. the frown line you always smooth your thumb over erased from existence. it’s not often that you wake up before him, that you get to trace the lines on his face and the freckles on his back-
“stop staring at me while i sleep” his voice low and gruff and warm with sleep, the corners of his lips stretching in a soft smile.
you huff in response, cheeks prickling with heat at getting caught. “i wa-” before you can even stutter out some barely coherent excuse, sturdy arms wrap around your waist, pulling you so incredibly close that all you know is his scent - soap and skin that feels like home.
he covers your face in slow kisses, his lips claiming their place on your skin. his eyes still closed. but he doesn’t need to look. he has committed every last line and curve and dip of your body to memory, an ever-expanding map that’s his and his only. “you look beautiful” a hot whisper against your cheek.
a tiny giggle escapes your lips, “you haven’t even looked, reiner”.
“i already know” the kisses continue down your neck, to the hollow between your collarbones as he gently shifts your body until you’re lying underneath him pliant and wanting. it’s so easy to surrender completely to his touch. large hands grabbing over the worn material of his shirt that you borrowed years ago. then the shirt is on the floor, replaced by his frenzied mouth, kissing, licking, sucking on the flesh of your chest. your tits are covered in a sheen of his spit. newly blossoming red marks screaming mine, mine, mine, mine. almost unintelligible whispers of “you’re so fucking perfect” make blood rush to your already hazy brain.
wide, glassy eyes and needy whimpers only encourage him as he continues dragging his lips over every inch of your body. your feet, the side of your ankle, the soft flesh behind the knee, that spot that tickles just beneath your hip bone.
reiner’s breath hitches as he spreads your legs open, mouth watering at the sight. your soaked cotton panties are almost transparent as they stick to your cunt. his eyes fill with wonder as he takes it all in, running his thumb down your puffy lips. “such a pretty, pretty pussy” the pleading expression on your face or the way you push your hips into his touch, so desperate for more, goes unnoticed. so focused on how cute your plush pussy looks when he pinches it between large fingers that he doesn’t even realise he’s teasing.
“baby… please” your voice breathy and almost begging as your nails scrape against his forearms. sticky panties join his shirt on the floor and his face is buried in your pussy. and, god, does he know just what you need. he worships your pussy. tongue dragging through your folds then sucking them into his mouth just right. strong arms pin your hips to the bed, holding you spread out for him as he wraps his lips around your clit and it sends your head spinning. obscenely slutty moans escape your lips. and he could come just from the sounds that you’re making, sounds of his own making, but he doesn’t stop. he doesn’t stop until his face is covered in your slick and you’re pushing his head away. broken pleas of “too much” and “i’m cumming” not enough to convince him to stop. even then, he covers your messy cunt with kisses, muttering an “always so perfect” as he looks up at you.
he holds your face in both of his hands, thumbs lovingly swiping across your wet cheeks as his lips crash against yours, tongue dripping with your essence. and you could cry at the way his powerful body gently molds around yours. the way that love spills golden from his eyes as he pulls away. every i love you and thank you and you’re mine held so securely in his loving gaze. the satisfied smile that pulls on his glossy lips as he pushes his aching length inside and you gasp, eyes fluttering shut at how he stretches your tight pussy to its limit.
he grunts out an “i love you” as he starts to roll his hips into yours. the way you can feel every vein and ridge on his throbbing cock, so hot with arousal. it’s all so lewd. the way your drooling pussy squeezes around him, your arousal pooling between your bodies. his lips grazing your ear, a mixture of animalistic grunts and mumbles of “fuck, baby, you’re so tight” mix with your increasingly needy and whiny moans. the wet sounds of your bodies coming together. it’s so lewd it makes the blood rush to your cheeks, makes you want to hide your face in embarrassment at how needy you are for his touch. but reiner makes you look at him as your body writhes and crumbles underneath him. nails scratching at his shoulders as you cum so hard around him you almost feel as if your body is melting into the bed.
he changes his pace, thrusts becoming more erratic and rougher as he’s nearing his own release. face buried in the crook of your neck, grunting as he spills inside of you. and there’s so much of it, thick and hot and milky white. so much that it spills out of your sloppy, swollen cunt, dripping on the already-drenched sheets below.
you feel so good and tight and hot, and he can’t take his eyes off your pretty pussy stretching so wide around his girth. so he fucks you through his orgasm. hips slamming so hard against your own until you’re so fucked out you can’t even moan. tears spilling down your face as he presses your foreheads together. he doesn’t stop until you’re both cumming again, panting and broken moans filling the room.
panting, reiner places a gentle kiss on your forehead. he holds you as if you might just fall apart in his arms, touches so gentle and soothing against your spent body. a barely whispered “i love you” is all you can give him in return.
thank you for reading! interaction is very much appreciated! ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
@nathalunalune thank you bb for the encouragement!! 💗
thank u my love! this one is a little sad later on in the story which is out of my comfort zone a teeny bit (I'm a fluff writer through and through) but its so fun and i adore reiner so i keep on writing it !!!
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reiner x reader strangers to lovers - a little nsfw so mdni !
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It seems surreal after everything that's happened over the past few weeks, but you still don't know his name.
You've shared secrets you haven't told anybody else. He's confessed to you in turn, admitting his own struggles in a hushed voice barely audible over the sounds of the bar.
He's bought you drinks, you've ordered food for the table that the two of you end up sharing most Friday nights. You spend hours together.
You've kissed him, touched him. He's been inside of you.
But you still don't know his name or any identifiers that could give you a clue as to who he is.
He knows even less about you, come to think of it, since once you caught a glimpse of an access card in his pocket that showed you where he works.
You don't share names or specific details. When you vent to him about your personal situation - a shitty ex who won't leave you alone, a tyrannical landlord who puts every effort into getting you kicked out of your apartment, and endless family troubles - you keep it as vague as possible.
He tells you he hates his job. You're sure he knows that you spotted his company card - it's some shady security firm uptown, you've seen the name on the news a few times - but he pretends otherwise.
He doesn't just hate the job, he explained to you once, it's like the job is killing him.
When you ask why he doesn't quit, he brushes you off and says it's complicated. He usually starts to kiss you whenever you inquire a little further.
You let him.
It's hot and desperate; it probably started as a distraction from the heaviness of the conversation, but soon escalates into a desire that feels nothing short of electric.
As strange as it sounds for two strangers who never meet outside the four walls of this bar (save for him bringing you back to his apartment), being with you is comforting. It serves as a reprieve from the shittiness of his job, where he can.
You both let things progress as they always do - and as they will next week, and the week after - and you soon find yourself flagging down a cab, his hand on your lower back and his eyes roaming over your body.
In about twenty minutes, you'll be tumbling through the door of his place, pawing at each other with burning desperation that never seems to diminish no matter how often you do this together.
In about an hour, he'll be inside you again, and the constant anxiety that pollutes your mind will start to fade away. He's good - startlingly good, for someone who appears so self-conscious - and you like providing him with the distraction from his own troubles, too.
He takes his time with you, taking you apart slowly and reverently. This is your favourite part of the evening, always.
A few hours later, you'll fall asleep together. He lets you stay over, on the unspoken condition that neither of you ever talk about it.
The next morning, you leave without saying anything.
All to be repeated the following week. A strange, arguably unsustainable relationship, but one you want to keep for as long as he'll have you. It feels good, and it gives you something to look forward to. That's all you can really ask for right now.
❪ ♡ ❫ ─── ( synopsis ) explicit headcanons for the gangsta men. ft worick, nicolas, delico, & marco
♡ ˙ ˖ ✧ — reader discretion is advised: female reader, female anatomy, canon verse, headcanon format, oral (m.receiving), worick calls you princess, submissive!delico, missionary position, enemies to lovers trope, soft smut, choking kink, marking kink, reader is mr monroe's daughter in delico's part (adopted, blood, stepdaughter, whatever floats your rootbeer float), breeding kink, spanking
NICOLAS BROWN
― 𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐄𝐒
YOU AND NICOLAS NEVER GOT ALONG. You were positive he hated your guts as soon as you joined Worick, himself, and Alex. You weren't sure why he disliked you, but you gave him as much heat back. You weren't a punk, so you weren't going to let some Twilight boss you around. Especially one whose ranking only became so high because he overuses cerebret. And Nicolas knew you hated him just as much caused of the way you rolled your eyes as soon as you saw him in the room. He even would let a profanity word or two when you would come into the room. The one thing that Worick did notice was that you two actually worked pretty well together when you put your mind to it. Both you and Nicolas could argue all morning, but when it was time to get shit done—Worick could only choose you to be sure Nicolas is good.
Only cause within two enemies who hate each other so much—deep down it's some form of romantic tension between the two. Every night, as you tiptoe into Nicolas's room, proved this. You've lost count on the number of times, you'll cover the bite marks and hickeys that decored your delicate skin simply because Nicolas got off at the sight of you panicking to cover them.
Every night where you two argued through harsh sign language ended with you croaking out Nicolas's name as if he could even hear you. He was really good at reading your body language and your facial expressions to know that he was fuckin' you just right. With your face buried into his pillow and your back arched perfectly, Nicolas had you completely trapped from running from his harsh thrusts. Every time your hand went back from interrupting his actions of pleasing you, his large hands would come down to slap you on your ass cheeks gaining a yelp from you.
Although the flesh on your butt stung with each spanking, you grew wetter for Nicolas's cock to brush against your tight walls effortlessly. You could feel your essence staining the inside of your thighs and your thighs were beginning to quiver before Nicolas bottomed down inside you fully.
The Twilight just enjoyed fucking the hate for him out of you.
WORICK ARCANGELO
― 𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐅𝐈𝐗𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍
DATING ONE OF 'THE HANDYMEN' OF ERGASTULUM WAS NEVER EASY. Especially when dating the blonde-haired, blue-eyed, eye patch-wearing Worick Arcangelo. It consisted of waking up in the morning and finding him and Nicolas in your living room sleep because after their dangerous task you didn't have the energy to question, they'll crash at your place because it was closer (and you cooked some pretty good pancakes according to what was signed to you by Nicolas). Or it was the seething feeling of jealousy because of the women from his past occupation. Obviously, it also consisted of the poor attempt to scrub blood out of Worick's shirt, you insisting you burn it—but it's his favorite shirt. You knew it wouldn't be easy, but you could tell the relationship was taking a toll on both of you.
You knew Worick did his all to be sure to keep you out of the deadly things he and Nicolas usually have themselves tangled in. However, that didn't stop him from bringing it to your doorstep after a long day of tasks. His body was completely exhausted. His fingertips were stained with the scent of gunpowder and bullets. And you hated to want to admit that he actually looked even more attractive in this state.
It was always the same routine when he came over after a long day. If he had the energy, he'll eat what you cooked for dinner. If not he's tugging off his dirty clothes to take a shower immediately and crashing right in the middle of your bed. But tonight was a bit different as you could tell how stressed he was.
You took it upon yourself to get on your knees and smother Worick's cock with kitten licks until his hips are jerking forward urging you to finally put it in your wet mouth. When he felt the wetness of your mouth, you could hear him let out an exhausted sigh of relief. His head instantly falls back to meet with the back of your cream-colored sofa. His hands found comfort on the back of your head to help guide your soaked licks and sucks upon his thick cock.
Occasionally you're perking yourself forward just to shove Worick down your throat some more. With pornographic gags bouncing off your living room walls, you could only take it due to Worick's hand being pressed on the back of your hip. His hips bucking forward just so his swollen tip could brush against the back of your throat.
"There we go princess, take it all in your mouth." Worick praised you while being your personal hairstylist with the way he was holding your hair.
MARCO ADRIANO
― 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋
MARCO'S JOB HAS ALWAYS BEEN DANGEROUS. No matter what, you found yourself sitting up late praying that he returns in one piece. You've lost count of how many bloody shirts you tossed or ice packs you've placed upon his ribcage—and you hated to admit that you were slowly growing tired of it. You weren't sure if you could handle the emotions of one day Marco not returning home to you. You feared that one day Loretta and Galahad would come knocking on your door with a look of sorrow.
But one night when Marco came home, you didn't want to worry that something was up with him. You couldn't particularly put your finger on it, but you knew that something was on his mind. He looked pretty banged up with small cuts on his arms and a bruise on his cheek, but you could have chalked that up as a typical shift with the Cristiano family.
He didn't say much, he just let his lips crash upon yours and his arms bring you closer. With each nibble on your lower lip and his tongue tasting the wine you sipped on during the night, a piece of clothing was removed from both of your bodies. Seconds turned into minutes before the both of you are intertwined with each other naked in bed. Delico toned statured cowering over your body while his hips rocked forward with his cock inside of you. The intense feeling of your pussy clutching around Marco only allowed him to let out a string of groans. His grip on your body trapping you from running from his thrusts tightened and he had a goal to be sure you felt every thrust he put his all in.
By the way, your kiss swollen lips were parted apart to whine out his name, Marco could tell he was doing just that. He didn't want to admit to you that he had a close call during a task for Loretta. A bullet was perhaps three inches away from his life being taken away, so tonight he dedicated the evening to making sure his soul was intertwined with yours. The mere thought of you leaving behind on this planet caused his heart to feel happy, so he couldn't help but fuck you a little more passionate tonight. His kisses on your heated skin were so soft that if he kissed hard enough, he would break you.
And when it was time for the two of you to be tugged off the passionate toe-curling cloud of cumming, Marco didn't bother to pull out. His thrusting turned a little sloppy and slow and his cute whines echoed in your ear.
"I love you Y/N."
DELICO
― 𝐌𝐑 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐑𝐎𝐄❜𝐒 𝐃𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐄𝐑
THE MOON SHINED THROUGH THE SHEER WHITE CURTAINS, COMPLETELY ILLUMINATING YOUR SWEAT-COATED SKIN. Your hips rocked back aggressively and your mouth gasped open to let out soft whimpers that combated with the sound of your headboard clashing against your nude-colored walls. Delico's fingers bruised the soft flesh upon your waist as his heterochromia eyes stared up at you in a complete trance. Completely pussy drunk for the woman above him whose pussy was clutching around him like a perfectly fit glove.
He was D-ranked Twilight who has done so many bad things within his time of being a bodyguard for a man like Mr. Monroe, but the actions he was committing tonight were just as bad. But, it felt so right. His head sank further into the pillow under his head, his white strands of hair stuck to his forehead due to the sweat. It took him by shock when he felt your hand grasp his neck. Although the grasp didn't hurt him—he still felt his body heat up by the action. Completely turned on at the sight of the way your head fell back in complete bliss while stuttering out his name.
Through coherent groans, Delico's attempt to praise how beautiful you look was interrupted by the tumultuous knocks on your room door. Your hand covered Delico's mouth to muffle any hush words that were about to tumble off his lips, you could hear your father's words behind the closed door. "I know you're still upset at me, but it's for your protection. Just please let me come in t—" Mr. Monroe's words were interrupted by you.
"I'm fine, completely over the situation father. We can discuss this in the morning." You hissed out feeling Delico's hold on your waist tighten before he's rolling your hips.
Your breath hitched in your throat while attempting to form a proper sentence. The sound of your room door knob began to jiggle aggressively, despite being fully grown—your father still thought it was okay to barge in your room. The drastic feeling of Delico's cock twitching inside you felt like your orgasm was clawing you to the edge. You wanted to moan out his name so badly, but you couldn't know how much trouble that would put both of you in. Mostly the D-ranked Twilight that was below your bare body at the moment, but you couldn't tarnish that perfect image your father had of you.
"We can talk about this tomorrow! I'm—uh handling something right now." You said through soft moans, hips still rolling like a cat in heat.
♤ tags ;; fem!reader, cheating (on reader but not by eren), exes to lover, past toxic relationships, arguing and insults, very emotionally charged sex, co-dependency (in a way), childhood friends to lovers, streamer!eren (BARELY mentioned), make-up sex, oral (f!recieving),, unprotected sex, so much dirty talk, praise kink, petnames angel, baby, pretty girl, eren kinda.. talks to ur pussy djhsdj, 18+
♤ wc ;; 10.2k (utter agony)
♤ a/n ;; i really like. this isn't the best. but that's fine i had a lot of fun alr. very self indulgent. title from teenage fever by drake.
♤ synposis ;; after your boyfriend cheats on you, your ex, eren, shows up for you against all odds. you give into him against your best interest.
You wait for him on the side of the road.
The rain is coming down in heavy sheets. You’re soaked to the bone having left in a hurry with only a single suitcase of your things. Your phones nearly dead, less than 20 percent with an ever-depleting battery. The closest place to charge your phone is too long to walk in this weather. And it’s so late the buses have stopped running.
Even if you could leave, it’s dark and dangerous. Your heart is in your throat, and the only streetlight is so far it hardly makes you feel any safer. You don’t know a single person in your ex-boyfriend's hometown other than his parents, but you aren’t sure you can face them right now if you wanted to.
It’s not like you wanted to call Eren. Or for him to see you as sorry as you are. Dehydrated, exhausted, emotionally battered - you don’t even like seeing Eren when you’re at your best. You’re sure as soon as you get into his car, he’ll start arguing with you. You’ve spent the last 15 minutes mentally readying yourself for his harsh comments whatever they may be.
You don’t have the luxury of being picky. He’s safer than venturing by yourself or taking an Uber. And he owes you one, anyway. Nows a good of a time as any to take him up on that.
Relief fills your whole body when you see a car pull up onto the side of the road. It’s an all-black sports car. Typically Eren, it sticks out sorely from all the other cars that have passed by. Wiping your eyes, you clear your vision to see Eren inside. He’s wearing a black cap and mask.
Your feet sink in the mud as you walk up to the car, but he beats you to the punch. Approaching you in the dead of night with a sort of anger you can feel before you even look at his face. He has a jacket with him made of that thin plastic material.
Before you open your mouth, he’s pulling the poncho over your head. He puts your arms through before he drags you by the wrist to his car. Hurriedly, you grab your suitcase and track it through the mud while you follow. Your voice is too hoarse to protest him, but you shout over the rain.
“Fuck Eren,” You half yell, wriggling your wrist free from his grip “Let me go,”
When he does, you stumble forward. You don’t get a look at his face as he walks over to the driver's side. In your exhaustion, you don’t think twice about it or assume he was doing it on purpose. You resign yourself. Hearing the back trunk of his car open, you try and read his face through the tinted windows. But even with the lights on, you can’t.
Sighing, you truck it towards the back. Your feet sink into the soft earth under you, huffing as you pick it up and shove it into the trunk. After you close it, you hurry back to the passenger seat, finally opening the door to see Eren.
He doesn’t even look at you when you do, eyes focused on the road. You stare at the interior of his car, grimacing at the thought of having to pay him back for getting it covered in mud. Left without a choice, you get in.
The plastic on his seat tells you he might’ve thought ahead. You aren’t sure if you should be comforted by that or not.
The door closes with a soft thud as you get to sit. The sound of the rain is muted almost instantly and leaves you with nothing but the radio, virtually silent, and Eren with a hand over the wheel. You put your seatbelt on and then settle more into your seat. Turning your body to face the window. The tension in the air is so thick you can feel yourself choke around it, breathing through your nose.
Eren’s car smells like spearmint. You’re expecting to be berated at some point, for inconveniencing him or otherwise. After all, you called him through a sob and asked him for something you’re sure he’d rather not be doing.
Instead though, he puts the car in drive, steps on the gas, and does a turn until he’s back on the road home.
He doesn’t say a word or even looks at you. Maybe reminding him of the fact he owed you meant he was going to treat this interaction as entirely transactional, which is infinitely better for you. You let out a breath of relief, shivering. He turns on the heat without you asking.
You decide against speaking and give him a glance of acknowledgment. He doesn’t return the gesture.
You hear your phone buzz in the pocket of your pants, and fish it out. As you expected, it’s just your ex-boyfriend. A slew of missed messages and calls. Your eyes hurt getting adjusted to the bright lights as you send him a quick stop texting me tonight before clicking it off. You want to throw your phone in the river, and yourself. To float down somewhere far from here, and pretend nothing ever happened.
With the white noise of rain no longer drowning out your invasive and sad thoughts, you find yourself choking back more tears. The wound is still fresh, tender, and bleeding.
You’ve always had bad taste in guys.
But you thought this time would be different. He was different. Patient, and attentive and so thoughtful. It was always stable. You met his family, for fuck sake. His mom, dad, and sister - are all good people. A nice house with a garage, health insurance, and a college graduate. From a different place than you and your friends.
It was never all that exciting, but you thought it was better that way. To keep it simple. You put in the effort to make it work. Got comfortable with complacency, and waved off all of your friends when they insisted you should date someone better. Someone who suited you more.
Maybe someone like Eren. The thought makes your stomach sour.
But your ex, he wasn’t a bad guy. It wasn’t so easy. He was safe, and after your other experience with romantic relationships- safety wasn’t something you could dismiss with the idea of deserving more. More was abstract and intangible. Slippery.
You were content, so you stayed. Stability, you told yourself, I just want stability.
He was the last person you could imagine cheating on you. Unsurprisingly with a girl from his hometown who he’d told you about before and swore he got over. Feeling stupid, you let out an exasperated laugh. It’s your fault for trying so hard. For taking his inch and trying to turn it into a mile.
For believing it’d be enough to try. Maybe you know better than anyone, there are just some people you never get closure with. That distant look in his eyes concerned you. But a guy like him didn’t seem like he’d cheat.
You’ve never been so wrong.
Your stomach rumbles as you close your eyes and go over the fight. Subsequently, you forget Eren is even in the car with you. His presence fades into the background, face pained as you think of your exes apologies. He seemed sorry.
But you’re not someone who can forgive or forget easily - so you broke up. It just complicates everything. Already broken up, but you have to get your things. Find a place to stay for the month because it’s too expensive to go home early. Delete him off your socials, and maybe get in touch with your therapist again. The laundry list of post-break-up things to do is the most frustrating and most taxing.
The emotional healing and distrust go in some compartment until you can actually unpack them. After the initial devastations scabs over, you’re sure the sore feeling of sadness will come back with a vengeance.
That’s later though, and this is now.
Moping is a pipe-dream, seeing as you’re in a place where you have no one and nothing. The only person you know lives here is Eren, but you’re not really expecting any help from him after tonight. Maybe 3 days max, if he’s feeling generous enough.
At the very least, he must feel pretty sorry for you. No snippy remark or sarcastic gripe since you’ve gotten in. You can’t figure out what he’s thinking, just as before. It’s almost impossible to get a read on his face, and that thought leaves your mouth bitter.
As bitter as a favor. As bitter as a memory, you swipe your tongue on your teeth to rid yourself of the taste but it lingers.
You avert your eyes to your hands, peeling the skin off the edge of your fingernails. After a minute or two, you drive in front of a stoplight. The red reflects onto your sneakers and into Eren’s car.
“So,” He starts, voice filled with that familiar sharpness “How’s the boyfriend?”
Ah. There it is. He almost disarmed you with his silence. It’s a weird way to start scolding you, but you’ve never really understood why Eren does what he does. You sigh, clearing your throat. It’s thick with tears you’ve been shedding all evening.
“Ex-boyfriend.”
The light goes green, and he takes a right. He lives farther than you thought.
“How’d you fuck it up this time?”
Normally, his insistence on blaming you would frustrate you. It’s classically Eren. The projection was always the name of the game when you two were dating, especially at the sour end of your relationship.
Your desire and ability to fight are diminished though, turning into ember and ash. Giving him a shrug, you laugh a bit.
“Don’t know,” You say with a little more honesty than you were intending to “I just uh. I don’t know.”
He sighs this time, and his voice goes a touch soft. Sympathy feels worse than his anger. How pathetic you must look settles in.
“...What happened?”
It’s hard to get yourself to say it. Even though you know it. Getting the words out feels like climbing a mountain. You lean back into the headrest and turn away from him. Watching the passing cars intently, you smile.
“He cheated on me. From uh, a girl with his hometown,” You say, forthright. Hoping his pity might make him go easy on you “His first love. I came home and found them in our bed,”
You can feel him go stiff beside you.
You realize that anything he said to you right now probably wouldn’t hurt. The numb pain outweighs everything else that you think it’d slide off your back.
“And?”
“Uh... I don’t know. She left. And we got into a fight. Broke up with him and said I’d figured something out. Just didn’t really want to be in the same room with him,” You sigh, rubbing underneath your eyes “Packed my shit and sort of wandered around trying to figure out what to do. Called you when I saw how late it got,”
“Should’ve called me earlier,” He says simply. You chuckle.
“Like when?”
He huffs.
“Earlier. Would’ve picked you from his place and fought him or something.”
You smile somberly.
“I thought about it, buut I thought that'd upset him, so I didn’t,”
This he scoffs at, anger in his voice.
“That’s so like you,”
You wish you could disagree.
“Yeah,” You say back, unsure of what else to do “Yeah, guess it is.”
“What’re you gonna do now?”
You take a deep breath in.
“I won’t be in your hair long. I’ll try and score an Airbnb and wait it out. Leaving early is expensive as fuck.”
“You could stay with me if it’s just a couple of weeks,” He offers easily “Airbnbs are more expensive than a ticket, right?”
“Would your girlfriend be okay with that? Does she know you’re picking me up?”
He stares out into the road, jaw clenched.
“We broke up a while ago.”
“What happened there?”
“None of your business.”
You scoff.
“Of course, it isn’t,” You reply, a little angrier than you can control “Your personal life never is. My mistake. I’m a little rusty on how this works.”
His voice is so cold it’s chilling.
“Don’t,” He grits, hands hard on the steering wheel “Don’t fucking start,”
“I’m not trying to start anything. But it’s hypocritical for you to ask me about the shit that just happened and not even tell me why you and your girlfriend broke up.”
“I’m doing you a favor,” He justifies in a half-hearted way you’ve grown accustomed to “I deserve to know,”
You laugh, voice strangled.
“You deserve a fucking foot up your ass,” You spit, suddenly shaking “A simple ‘It’s complicated or ‘I don’t want to talk about it right now’ would’ve sufficed.”
“You’re still good at picking fights,” He goads, mouth twisted in a sneer “Did you nag him too? Maybe that’s why he went crawling back to his first love”
It’s too far. He’s too far, and he knows it. It’s all over his face, even masked in anger. You shoot him a deadly look, arms crossed over your chest. Suddenly, tears well up in your eyes and you can’t even look at him. It was a mistake, of course it was. You shouldn’t have bothered. Expecting anything from Eren was your own fault. Even basic decency.
Whatever camaraderie you used to have dissolved a long time ago. You bite your tongue
“You’re the fucking worst,” You sniffle, closing your eyes “Just drop me off at a hotel. I don’t want to be around you. It’s my fault for assuming you’d be civil.”
His hands are gripping the steering wheel tight.
“Tell me how you really feel,” His voice is dripping with sarcasm. “I think I’m being plenty civil right now,”
“Fuck. Do you get off on provoking me? On hurting my fucking feelings?” Your voice comes to a scratchy yell, unable to contain the anger in it “I just got fucking cheated on. In the middle of a city where I don’t know a single person other than you. You’re the last person I want to fucking see, Eren. The last,”
“So why’d you call me crying?”
“I didn’t have a choice! If I had a choice, I would’ve called anyone else. Would’ve called Jean or Connie or Armin—anyone. Anyone who isn’t fucking you.”
He clicks his teeth.
“Liar,” He says with the sort of confidence that floors you “You would’ve still called me even if everyone we know was in the city,”
It stings that he’s right. Your strength crumbles.
“So what if that’s true? What does it matter that I thought of you? That’s always been my issue, right? How’d you put it again?” You laugh out loud, a little out of it “I should stop expecting anything from you, right? It’s my fault. I should just stop having expectations for anyone. It must be me.”
He looks a little strained. Almost sorry. You scoff.
“Yeah,” You mumble, exhausted “You’re right. I shouldn’t expect anything from anyone. No matter how much I heal, or how hard I try to do the right thing”
“Y/N—”
“I worked on myself. Went to therapy. Took time off from dating altogether. Did everything right and still,” Your mouth fills with iron “Still. Still. I can’t find one person to treat me decently. Congrats, Yeager. It’s just like you hoped.”
The silence that follows says more than you ever could. You rub your temple. He’s probably right that you pushed it.
“Sorry for snapping on you,” You reply, voice tense “But, I still want to be dropped off at a hotel.”
“Why?”
You laugh.
“What do you think? Think we’re gonna be able to play house for two weeks? It hasn’t even been an hour and we’re fighting,”
He’s thinking. You can see it on his face, the tight strain of his jaw, and his brows. You haven’t seen him in person for more than a couple of years. But the familiarity always lingers. It doesn’t feel unusual, even the fighting.
He hasn’t changed. That much is obvious.
You shouldn’t have called, you think. It might’ve been better to get hypothermia and walk to the nearest motel.
“It’s not your fault he cheated on you,” He says. You think it’s his way of apologizing, a piss poor attempt at comforting you “Guys are just scumbags. Hung up on their first love or whatever. It’s not uncommon,”
You don’t know if you want to laugh or cry. Frankly, you don’t have the energy for either.
“Does that include you?” You attempt to joke. To your surprise, he laughs. His voice is hoarse, and a touch resentful. Not at you, though. That feels important.
“Yeah.” He replies, not looking over at you “Me especially,”
It’s the first time he’s said as much about himself in your presence. Before it was that you didn’t understand him or that you didn’t get it. It’s too early to retract your previous statement. Hope sparks anyways. For what, you don’t want to know.
You nod sagely.
“You especially,” You affirm without any trouble “At least you know.”
This time, he smiles at you. It’s barely there. This whole conversation and the good nature of it is like walking on eggshells. You both know that.
Eren breaks the silence first as he pulls into another lane.
“Stay with me for tonight,” He offers “Just tonight,”
You don’t know why he insists. A loud yawn slips through your lips and your inclination to protest dwindles before being snubbed out completely. Shivering, you nod. Your head feels heavy.
“If you say so,”
You think you feel a pair of eyes on you before sleep washes over you like a tide. They might be Erens, but in your delirium, you can’t be sure. It doesn’t take much for you to succumb to sleep.
__
After your car ride ended, Eren woke you up gently to help you inside. This time, he took your luggage without your asking and helped you into his home.
He lives in one of those luxury apartments with a doorman. It’s fancier than you could ever imagine yourself living in. There’s a chandelier in the lobby, with a gym and a pool. Trekking mud into such a nice place makes you feel guilty. Eren seems unbothered.
You take the elevator up to the 7th floor, and then a right into the hallway. Eren fishes the keys out of his pocket, unlocking the door and stepping aside to let you in.
This is a bachelor pad. It’s the first thing that crosses your mind when you enter.
The decoration is minimalist and expensive. Boyish in its extravagance, littered with pricey things only Eren Yeager would buy. The couches are black, the carpet is white and the windows are big panes that overlook the entire city.
A flatscreen takes up most of the room. There’s a kitchen but it looks unused. It’s lived in, in the way that there are running shoes and clothes. Mess that happens when you spend your time somewhere, but it’s void of things a girlfriend would have in the house. You would know.
On one of the walls is a painting of a woman's naked body, tastefully done. From what you remember of Eren’s ex-girlfriend, she’d have his head over something like that.
Eren clears his throat behind you. When you turn to look at him, he looks a little sheepish.
“Broke up a while ago huh,”
He looks surprised at your deduction. You poke your head at the painting.
“She would’ve beat your ass for even thinking about putting that up,”
His expression is affirmative. After you’re done taking it in, all of your sensory issues hit you all at once. You pull the sleeves of your soaked hoodie over your hands but you’re freezing. His eyes widen.
“Ah, shit. Let me get you a towel. I’ll turn the heat up too,”
“Thanks, ‘ren.”
The nickname slips out of habit, but you don’t get a chance to retract it as Eren shuffles off to grab you a towel.
It doesn’t take him very long, a few in hand. You watch him idly as he turns on the heat before hurrying back over to you, shoving towels your way. You make him hold them for a minute, taking off your poncho and hanging it to him.
You dry yourself off to the best of your ability as Eren goes to put away the raincoat.
“Mind if I shower?”
He shakes his head.
“Would be concerned if you didn’t. I can get us food or something while you’re in there,”
“That’s… thoughtful of you. I’d appreciate it. I can Venmo—”
He puts a hand up, sitting on the back of his couch while you dry yourself off.
“Save your money if you’re worried about it.”
“I don’t want to owe you anything.”
Your frank way of speaking to him irritates him, same as always.
“You won’t owe me,” He assures first “I know we hate each other's guts now, but I’m not gonna let you go hungry.”
Warm. It makes you feel warm. You avert your eyes as you dry yourself off.
“Your mom would have your head,” You murmur. He laughs.
“My mom might forgive me. Zeke and my old man would hang me like a flag,”
“How’s Zeke been?”
His expression goes dry. They’re fighting. Eren rolls his eyes.
“Fine. On my ass, as usual. Business is good. I’ve got a niece now. Zeke’s wrapped around her finger,”
You’ve seen it floating on social media. You feel a little melancholy. It must show on your face.
“You should still visit home sometimes. Don’t be a stranger,”
You smile sadly.
“Easier said than done,”
“...Even if you don’t see me. I’m not the only one who misses you. Jean hasn’t stopped bitching about you going to see just Armin.”
You don’t know if he catches it. He misses you. You’re too afraid to confront it but unable to ignore it. You think over his words.
“It’s not like I don’t want to,” You start, voice slow “But after everything… after everything.”
There’s a minute where neither of you talks. Yet it’s not silent. The room is tense with everything you want to say or everything you did. Every regret, every memory starts to buzz all at once inside of your ribs like a spark of electricity through your hollow.
“If tonight didn’t happen, I wouldn’t have ever seen you again,”
He shakes his head with the same confidence as before.
“I would’ve found you.”
He says it like it doesn’t need any explanation. As casual as relaying the weather to you. He gives you a look, scratching his jaw.
“Go shower. How’s Thai? Same as before?”
It takes you a second to find your voice.
“Y-Yeah. Same as before. Where’s your shower?”
He directs his eyes towards the bathroom. You grab your small luggage on your way, offering him a quiet thanks. The sound of your heartbeat thrums in your ears, faster than the pounding rain.
__
Time passes like sand between your fingers.
After a shower, a change of clothes, and a full stomach - you and Eren are left totally in each other's company. Your expectation of it being awkward or even marginally uncomfortable becomes unthinkable after a while. Despite how late it is, you aren’t tired or all that sad.
Truthfully, you don’t know how to handle how familiar Eren feels. Like a durable winter coat with a heavy and comforting weight on your shoulders. It’s not burdensome to talk to him. He matches your pace and picks up easily on your quips. Natural lulls in conversation don’t feel uncomfortable and every misdirect or anecdote opens the door for more conversation.
Maybe you should’ve expected that. You and Eren grew up together. Along with Mikasa and Armin, and everyone from your hometown. It shouldn’t surprise you that Eren is comfortable.
When you look at him, you see home. If your gaze lingers. even a second too long or if you think for a minute more than necessary, you’re caught in the web of memories you’ve spent your whole life making.
You wonder about your ex-boyfriend. The irony of it isn’t lost on you. Maybe it hurts because you understand perfectly. No matter how much you love after, there’s nothing like first love. If he saw that in her eyes, it’s all that much harder to feel angry.
The only thing keeping you grounded is remembering that you’ve tried before and it failed miserably. It sinks you when you float too close to your heartwarming nostalgia.
The acrid truth is that this is all temporary and circumstantial.
Every now and again you remind yourself you’ve just been very vulnerable. And Eren’s grounding presence is helping you.
Again and again, you remind yourself that.
“High school was so ass,” Eren leans back into the couch, stretching his legs out “Mrs. Carnegie was such a bitch,”
You give him an unimpressed look. He looks like you remember when he’s like this. Having changed into his own clothes, hair tied up messily. He’s adjacent to you on the couch, far enough to stretch his limbs comfortably.
“She was nice to me. She was a bitch to you because you kept interrupting class,”
He rolls his eyes.
“And who was I doing that for?”
Your heart skips a beat. .
“Man, whatever.”
He laughs at you.
“Weak come-back,” He hums, laying his head on the back of his couch. He tilts his head in your direction “I was a good boyfriend in high school at least,” He adds, a little softer.
“You were. You were kinda like a puppy,”
He groans.
“Don’t say it like that, that’s humiliating.”
“What are you talking about? Puppies are cute.”
“Yeah, but hearing that now is embarrassing. I’m a man now,”
You raise a brow.
“Men can't be cute like puppies?”
“No,”
“But Armin is right there,”
“Doesn’t count. He literally looks like a fairy prince. Statistical anomaly,”
That makes you laugh hard enough your stomach hurts.
“Why’re you laughing? Am I wrong?”
“You just said it so seriously. He is an anomaly but I think Connie is cute in a puppy way too,”
“Connie’s bald ass? Seriously?”
“Yes, seriously. I like it, his hair looks good buzzed.”
“You’d find something nice to say about a pile of trash,”
“I like your long hair, Yeager.”
He gives you an unimpressed laugh as you break out into laughter.
“Low fucking blow,”
“Cry,”
This time he laughs instead, throwing a pillow at you. You catch it easily, holding it to your chest.
“I do like the hair though. It’s all you ever talked about,”
He gives you a little smile.
“You remembered. I thought it’d make me look cooler. Alternative or whatever. Don’t know if it’s working,”
“Your fans seem to love it,”
He looks sheepish at the mention of his work. You laugh.
“It gets a mixed response. A lot of people miss the short hair. I mostly keep it long because it’s easier to style,”
“Both are nice. I like your short hair more when I think about it,”
“Yeah?”
“I guess it’s cause it was short when we’re growing up. And uh,”
“When we were dating?”
You give him a tight-lipped smile.
“Yeah. When we were dating, it was always short,”
He closes his eyes, suddenly deep in thought.
“You wanna know why I kept it short?”
You think you’d be better off not knowing.
“...Why?”
“When you’d play with my hair,” Subconsciously, he pushes his hair back a little “I could feel it better when my hair was shorter. Thought if I’d grew it, you wouldn’t touch it cause it’d get greasy quicker.”
All at once, you pull back. Whatevers on your face isn’t enough to make Eren waver when he looks at you. It’s easy to get lost in his eyes. Ocean blue, and full of something dark. Tempting like an abyss or a siren song. You swallow a lump in your throat.
“It’s something I’d do,”
The way Eren stares at you is so intense. You’re dancing around it now. What you both want to talk about it. A conversation that’s gone untouched for more than 4 years. Sober and aching. Different but the same.
Eren breaks the tension first. That’s twice.
“I’d cut my hair short if you asked me,”
You’re quiet.
“I’d do whatever you want,”
“Eren,”
“What?”
What do you say? Don’t? Please? What could you say that means more than his name in your mouth?
“You know what,” You say weakly “You know,”
A conversation you’ve had a hundred times before. It burns like bile rising in your esophagus. Crushed windpipes under the burden of love. Your hands grip the ends of the pillow tighter. He sits up straighter. You don’t want to talk about it.
“Do I?”
“Eren,” A warning.
“There’s not any point in talking around it, “ He shoves his hands in the pockets of his hoodie “Around this. Around us.”
“There is no us,” You correct sharply, shaking your head “Not anymore,”
His face doesn’t have anything you can read. You know yours must read of resentment. Eren is his usual blank.
“There could be,”
You shatter at the sentiment. The hopeful, easy way he says it. Like he doesn’t remember anything, and that you two are strangers. You know better that you aren’t. That no amount of healing can take it all back. Maybe you could forgive Eren, and somewhere far down the line - you could even be friends.
But us is impossible. You tried us. It blew up in your face.
“Fuck you for even saying that,” Your voice comes out garbled “Fuck you for even thinking it,”
“How is it fuck me? For wanting to fix our relationship, seriously?”
You hate him. With everything you have in you, with a burning fiery sort of anger. A resentment that’s spent years strangling you. Every time you’ve bitten your tongue, all the time you tried to fix it.
It’s all so messy and so unspeakbly touchy.
“The sooner you get it out of your head there’s a relationship to fix, the better off we’ll be,”
“Bullshit. Bullshit there’s nothing. I make you feel nothing?”
It’s not what you said. He knows that, but he means what he’s saying. And he knows your answer already because he’s like that. He already knows everything about you. Where to make you hurt, and how to make it sting. Eren is a scar, not a bruise. He stays, for as long as you’re alive. No matter how faint, or how healed - he stays a part of you.
He knows that as much as you do. That’s why it took you so long to leave. Of course you’d end up talking about it like this, but that’s not what you wanted. Or maybe it is. You don’t really know what you want from Eren. What you were hoping for when you stayed up late to talk to him and reminisce. You think just camaraderie.
“I hate you so fucking much,” You croak, wiping away angry tears “More than anyone in my life, I hate your fucking guts,”
“You don’t mean that,”
“I do,” Your reply comes in an angry hush “I can’t forget how we ended Eren. The months after I left were some of the worst of my life. Do you know how long it took me? To get better?”
His jaw clenches.
“I didn’t think you would leave,”
His confession stuns you into silence. His arrogance never fails to astound, Like this, it feels incredibly frustrating. Your stomach sours.
“...You thought I would stay? After everything?”
“You said you would,” He raises his voice this time. He sounds hurt. Angry. Sad. All things you didn’t know he could still feel “You—you fucking promised. It was supposed to be forever and you left first.”
“You can’t be serious,”
“You promised,”
“Yeah,” This time you sit up. Everything hits you at the same time “When I was 17 and in love. Before you treated me like shit,”
He winces. So he does know.
“You remember now, don’t you? You changed. You left for college, you stopped picking up my calls. You were such a fucking flirt that half of your campus thought you were single till I moved in. You remember that Eren?”
His silence makes you madder.
“You remember. right? How I’d desperately try and fix our relationship while you ran around doing whatever? You always looked so fucking indifferent. All we ever did was fight. Nothing I did worked,”
“Y/N—”
“I didn’t know anything other than you. If it was anyone else… But it was you,”
“I’m—”
“You used to tell me when we were kids that if any boy hurt my feelings, you’d kill him. You remember that?”
He closes his eyes.
“Don’t make it sound like I just up and left for nothing. We both know that’s bullshit,” You choke back a sob as you think about it. The gaping hole in your chest that Eren always left splits open again.
“I’ve always loved you. Always. From the minute I could walk and talk. I didn’t leave because I didn’t love you, Eren,” Even now, you don’t want him thinking that “I left because you didn’t love me. I left because I realized that”
The silence that follows your rant exhausts you so much you slump back into the couch. You learned your lessons the hard way. That love was meaningless to safety. That stability was a luxury few can afford. Nothing is guaranteed.
This second time around, you know that love can’t be one-sided. Maybe that’s what all of this has been trying to teach you.
You cry silently, taking in deep breaths. You have no idea what he’ll say, and you don’t know if you care.
“I’m sorry,”
“....What?”
“I’m sorry,” His voice breaks a little this time. You don’t remember the last time you saw him cry “I didn’t mean for things to end like that,”
“Sorry doesn’t fix it,”
You know it’s a mean thing to say. It’s not kind or forgiving. His sincerity doesn’t even feel real to you at the moment he says, but sorry doesn’t make you feel better. Sorry doesn't fix it.
“I know,”
“Then why say it?”
“I still love you,”
Drowning. You’re drowning in murky waters, hardly getting air.
“You don’t love me,”
“Don’t say that,” His voice sounds weak and desperate. You haven’t heard it like that in so long. Vulnerable “Even if you hate my fucking guts. I still love you, always did. Always.”
“Then why did you do that to me?”
“I was terrified,”
It’s been a long time since you’ve seen Eren. Spoken to him, or even called him on the phone. Years. Checking on him through his social media and streams was all you ever got. Sometimes Armin would fill you in, or Mikasa.
But Eren, in your eyes, had remained how you left him. He got arrogant you think. He got his fix and grew up to be tall and handsome. Had aspirations and grew out of his shyness.
And instead of growing together, you grew apart. You started to accept the fact that the Eren you loved was no longer someone you could reach. The young, doe-eyed lovesick boyfriend. Eren was just a college boy now. Not your only exception, not the love of your life.
Accepting that was the hardest thing you’ve had to do in your life.
So why does he sound like someone you used to love? And why now, of all times?
“When you talk like that, it makes me think you’re different.”
“I am,” He stops for a minute, hands folded “I’m trying to be.”
“...Why were you scared?”
“It’s uhm, I don’t know how to say it,”
“Take your time,”
“Doing long distance made me realize how much I needed you,” His voice is hardly over a whisper. “It was ego. But I hated that. I had it in my head that you were off with other guys, and I—I don’t fucking know—I was stupid. I wanted to feel like you still wanted me,”
“So what? You made me chase you?”
“Yeah. Something like that. When you moved in, it just… I don’t know. I saw how everyone looked at you. I didn’t think it would make me so angry to see you like that,”
“Sounds like…”
“Self-sabotage,” Eren interjects “That’s what my therapist said, at least.”
“You’re in therapy?”
“Only a few months, but yeah. It helps.”
“I don’t understand you at all,” You shake your head “ Not at all,”
“You bring out the best and worst in me.” He replies with a humorless laugh on his lips “Still. Around anyone else, it doesn’t matter. What they do or don’t do,”
“And me?”
“You,” He rubs a hand over his face, voice shaking. He tries to be lighthearted but the sentiment is sincere “I make myself sick thinking about you,”
It feels hot under your clothes.
“We shouldn’t be… I shouldn't—”
“I know. You drive me so fucking crazy and I get so angry. I know, but how the fuck could it ever be anyone but you?”
Your breath hitches.
“What’re you saying?”
“That I want you. I want you so fucking bad. I don’t want to ever be away from you ever again. I can’t help but want that,”
You can feel him coming into your space. How he scoots closer to you, just enough that he’s moving across the couch. He’s so much bigger than you remember. Stronger. It's all moving so fast. When he puts his hand on your knee, you tense but don’t move. The dizzying smell of his cologne catches on your tongue and tickles your throat.
His eyes dart down to your lips. His hands running up your outer thighs. You’re defenseless. Weak, you pull back a little. He doesn’t move.
“I can’t just forgive you overnight—”
“I know,” He leans in a little more. Close enough that his breath touches your skin “I’ll keep trying. I want to try again. I’ll earn it this time. I’ll chase you, and you can ignore me all you want,”
He’s being cheeky as much as he’s being serious. Classically Eren. You’re so screwed.
You feel your throat close up as he inches forward.
“You’re so bad for me.” You whisper, the words too heavy.
“Two sides of the same coin,” He says back, then he smiles “We’re made for each other. You think that too. I know you do,”
“I wanted stability,”
“I’ll try to give you it. If that’s what you want.”
“And if you’re just a rebound?”
“As long as I’m yours,”
“You’re such a scumbag.”
“I know,”
Everything falls from under you the minute you kiss him.
A little noise of surprise leaves his lips that instantly morphs into desire. It’s an uncouth display of emotions, so animal that you can hardly call it love. It’s something in between love and hatred, the opposite of indifference. All the intensity of life, of every terrible emotion you’ve ever had. You kiss Eren Yeager first because you miss him, despite yourself. Everything after that is just another blurry detail.
He moans into your mouth. Where your hand has landed on his chest, he grabs your wrist and then drags you into his lap without ever breaking apart. You end up over him, with his lap under yours.
When he has you where he wants you, he hugs you close to his body. You can feel the hardlines of muscle through his shirt, his arms secure around your back. Your tits are pressed against his chest, bra forgotten. The slightest brushes are what make you feel the most.
Eren’s shaky breaths and the overwhelming way his lips move against yours. Indecision in how to treat you. Soft kisses that are followed by rough ones. The intensity of your own desire consumes your ability to act cordial, as you squeeze against Eren tight.
You can feel the rapid beat of Eren’s heart in his chest, grinding your hips into his.
In between kisses, he makes sure to nip at your jaw. You can feel his teeth pierce your pulse point, his tongue lapping over the leftover wound that leaves you shaking.
He litters bites like that on every inch of your skin, your neck left with an ache. There’s something ironic in Eren licking your wounds over, but the words escape you before you can utter them.
Even in just being claimed, the feeling is intense. It makes you visceral. Not to be worked up from touch or words, but something else entirely. Something cosmic in it’s very existence.
Eren finally pulls away from you, just barely to glance at your swollen lips. He meets your eyes as his teeth sink into the lower one to make you whine. He talks to you while your eyes are locked.
“Fuck,” His voice is thick with lust. Heat splits you right in half “Fuck, fuck, baby. Been so long,”
“Y-Your hands,”
“Can’t take em off you,” They’re smooth as they feel you up. Shamelessly squeezing the fat of your hips in between in his fingers, grabbing your ass hard. A guilt creeps up for comparing him to your ex-boyfriend.
But all you can think about is how Eren is the opposite of stability. Images pop up of when you used to have sex, so many years before. He was meeker before, less assured. You thought his confidence would make you sick, but it doesn’t.
Rather, the look on his face while he gropes you makes you wet. Chewing his lower lip, feeling your body like he’s dying to see it under his clothes. Impatiently and unabashedly wanting you in a way that is distinctly Eren.
There’s truth in the sentiment that no one could ever fuck you like Eren could. It’s one you’ve kept to yourself for so long that you almost forgot it. Eren knew your body and shaped it to his hands years ago. You like being touched because of how he touched you, a memory you carried like a torch.
It was Eren who wanted you first, who fucked you first, who made you cum first when you were both so awkward and clumsy.
“Look at you,” He groans. His hands inch under your shirt, skin on skin. Pinching your nipples gently, till they’re hard against your shirt “Look how sexy you are,”
He knows what you like, what you like being told.
“My pretty fucking girl,”
Fuck. Of course, he remembers that.
“Oh, you—”
“So pretty,” He parrots. Even with electricity buzzing in his movements, he’s patient. Undresses you gently. When your skins bare, your shirt tossed to the other side of the room, he kisses the underneath of your tits. Each one, he kneads them. Appreciates them, worships them. All of that undivided attention that he always used to give you when you were dating.
When you were in love.
“You still like when I tease ‘em too,”
His tongue runs over your hardened nipple, sucking it into his mouth, His free hand occupies the other, taking time to give them both equal attention. Your body starts to ignite, little sparks of electricity flitting up your spine.
Letting your fingers card through his hair, you glance down. He looks up at you with his mouth full, eyes lidded. His lashes are long against his olive skin, sun freckles over the bridge of his nose. Your hands reach to touch the moles along his cheeks, all in places you remember.
You don’t resist the urge for intimacy. Not things you did with your ex, but with Eren. You press a kiss to his hairline and his hands get a little tighter. Your want expands, fills like a balloon.
Feeling his cock nudge against your shorts is surprising. A blush crawls over his face, grinding his hips up into you. It’s muscle memory to do it back - rocking yourself until he’s nestled between you. Dry-humping like this makes you feel like a teenager again, doing this in Eren’s dingy basement when you weren’t ready to lose your virginity.
Except Eren knows what he’s doing. He shifts his weight, sitting up enough to push up against your clit. His mouth deatches, a string of saliva in his place. The cool air against the swell of your tits make, adds to the sensation.
He grabs your ass again, this time just to push you up. To set a pace as you grind against each other.
“Wanna know something?”
You choke back a whimper.
“Mm,”
“I used to jack thinking about you,” His voice is slick when he speaks, a low whisper “Remember? You used to be too sensitive so you’d rub against the edge of your bed. Thought about it all the time after you told me,”
Your jaw drops open.
“You—”
“You’re a big girl now, aren’t you? Not too sensitive for this, but—,” He does it with more purpose, a long slow drag so you can feel his shaft against your clothed cunt “you still like it slow,”
“Eren, holy—”
“Everything you like,” He hums, this time matching how he moves you with his own body “Still remember every detail,”
“Y-Yeah?”
“Yeah baby,” He dips his head to kiss against the column of your throat again, this time sucking deep dark hickies. You can feel his lips when you moan “Everything. Kept me company,”
You’re almost too afraid to ask what he means.
“Eren,” You half beg, fingers twitching with want “Don’t tease me,”
“What do you need?”
“Uhm,” Embarrassed. For some reason, Eren asking you is making you embarrassed. You’ve never been before “This is so humiliating,”
“You were always shy about asking for it,”
“So why’re you making me, asshole?”
“I like watching you squirm,”
“Shut up, you’re awful,”
“Put something in my mouth, then?”
Your eyes go wide, and he smiles. His breath brushes against the shell of your ear.
“You wanna sit on my face, right? Shut me up,”
It was a stupid arguement you had. At the latter half of your relationship, sometimes the only way you two resolved things was sex. Eren referencing it makes you mad as much as it makes you wet.
When you were both a little inebriated, he used to beg you for it.The memories of that make you nod. Your voice is coarse with lust.
“Wanna sit on your face,”
“Take your shorts off,”
Taking off your clothes is haphazardly done. You and Eren part ways. He takes off his shirt and hoodie to reveal a body cut from pure marble. He was always athletic, but clearly his gym rat posting on his IG story were genuine and not for show. He sends you a little smirk when he catches you staring, flexing his muscles a little.
“Do I look good?”
You nod, awestruck as you wriggle out of your shorts leaving you in just your socks. Eren does the rest slowly, stood up and taking off his sweatpants His thighs are muscular, strong with a little dark hair. It’s on his stomach too, just barely there.
The fabric of his boxers strain against his cock. It’s big, bulges against the black material that you can see the skin. It’s intimidating to look at.
Your eyes follow him to the couch. You watch him get comfortable, moving pillows around to make sure there’s enough space. He flashes you a smile when he’s laid down, untying his hair as a last touch.
“Come here, angel,” He signals, waving you over “Come sit,”
The air brushes past you as you approach him. He reaches a hand out to lace with your hands.
“Face that way. So you can hold onto my hair, yeah?”
“Yeah,”
It takes you a minute. It’s easier to climb over his chest, inching towards his face. When you’re spread right over his neck, he gives you a cheeky grin. His hands reach over your thigh, pulling you apart. His eyes are zeroed in on your clit, finger brushing back the hair on you. The affectionate way he does both makes you want to hide away.
Eren is holding you in place so you can’t move.
“Look at that,” He whispers, breath fanning your cunt “Look at how wet you got for me,”
Instead of putting his tongue where you need it, he cranes his neck to one side and presses kisses into your inner thigh. Licking at the skin, he holds your eyes.
“Tell me something,”He goes an inch highe and leaves a hickey before repeating it a little bit aove “Did he ever get you this wet? You can be honest,”
Your clit throbs between your legs. Eren grins, as you squirm. You look down at him, shaking your head.
“Not like you. I mean, he wasn’t bad but he wasn’t—”
“But he wasn’t me, was he?” He goes on, his lips pressing right against your achy clit, arousal on his lips that he licks with ease “Could never be me, could he?”
“Eren,” You whine. His smile gets bigger, tongue licking one long stripe against your folds.
“Say it baby. That I’m the best you’ve ever had?”
Your reply is a meek yeah. It’s hard to do anything with confidence or self-assurance when your entire body is begging to be pleasured. Eren gives you a few more kisses on your clit, like he’s making out with it. It’s sweet and lazy, making your hips buck for more.
“I’m the same,” He coos, sticking his tongue out as he forces your weight down so you’re not longer hovering but sitting on his face “There’s nothing like you,”
He doesn’t hesitate to dive in right after that. Burying himself deep, your hands immediately fix at the base of his hair. He’s not shy about it, his tongue laid flat, creating just enough suction around to feel. It’s perfectly pracited, familiar.
Eren eats you out from memory. That much is obvious to you as soon as you feel him, the wet heat of his mouth and his tongue. It’s a measured build of pleasure, soothing a long-time ache that slowly escalates to something more.
A mewl escapes your throat. He moans against your pussy, nose bumping against you. Tugging at the roots of his hair, you wiggle your hips to get him to give you more.
You feel the coil in your tummy when Eren goes a little deeper, sucks a little harder, moves a little faster. Encouraging you to use him to the best of your ability as he pushes your hips, nails dug in the skin to keep you steady Looking down makes you see him completely blissed out, like he’s in a comfortable dream.
You don’t really remember the last time someone went down on you like this without asking. Like he’s enjoying it all on his own, like he wants you. There’s vigor to how he takes you into his mouth, tastes you greedily, with appreciative grunts and groans.
The word perfect falls flat to how Eren licks your pussy. Perfect is too prim, too neat. Whatever Eren makes you feel between your legs, is far from perfect. Eren is something more. More intangible, hard to touch. He eats your pussy perfectly, but messily. Desperately, lovingly. Every inch of you is wanted, tongue nestled against your folds and on your hard clit like he wants to stay. He looks at you intoxicated and it shows in how much joy he takes in tasting you. Hitched to your very existence, like a planet revolving around the sun.
He does it like it’s a privilege, a divine gift. Sucks like it’s sweet, ripe fruit in scorching summers. Water in an oasis, deserving of only the highest praise. Not worth wasting even for pride. Shameless.
You can feel yourself tipping closer and closer to the familiar edge. Each second pushes you to it, closer and closer and closer before you feel the feeling again. Deep in your body, undoing you completely.
“Eren, oh—”
You cum hard. It’s the first one, the most intense. Eren is unyielding as you hit your high and start to fall back down, catching on each layer of the ozone. You moan his name over and over, Eren, Eren, Eren. It’s all you can think to say. The only person you’d trust to catch you from this high, you fall foward. Hand gripping on the couch, you try to wiggle away but he won’t let you until he’s had his fix.
When he pulls away, he takes in a deep breath.
You lean back, catching sight of his face. It’s dripping down his chin. He reaches his hands to wipe it with his fingers, then sticks his hands up to you.
“Open your mouth up,” He says, pushing his fingers against your tongue “Or come down here and clean me up, maybe?”
You widen your eyes. Curiosity getting the better of you, you wiggle down until you’re face level with him. He gives you a glance, encouraging you. Unsure, you push your tongue out against his neck, tracing down to his adams apple. He groans, voice vibrating.
“Fuck yeah,” His hands comes around the back fo your neck “Just like that baby. That’s perfect,”
Your memory reminds you. You repeat your actions, tongue dragging over his nec and chin, presses kisses and bites all along his jaw and neck. Eren moans above you appreciatively. The sound is pleasing. Hearing it over and over eggs you on to “clean” him up well until you reach his lips.
The way he kisses you is sweet and gentle. He kisses your lips before peppering them on your face.
“Fuck, look at what you’re doing to me.”
“Making you sappy?”
“Already was. I’m so hard for you right now, it’s fucking stupid,”
You let out a whine.
“Mm,”
“Condoms upstairs,”
“Don’t need ‘em. ‘s fine. Just give it to me how it is,”
He shivers against your body.
“I wanna cum just thinking about it,”
“Don’t think about it and come fuck me,”
He laughs, handing coming down on your ass.
“Get up,”
You stand up and Eren follows suit. He gives you a quick peck before whispering in your ear.
“Bend over the edge of the couch for me,”
Shivering, you nod your head and walk beind the couch. You shoot Eren a look over your shoulder, seeing him ease his cock out of his boxers to give it a quick stroke. It’s just high enough that you struggle to get over it all the way. His eyes are piercing, watching you as you bend over like he asks. You push your ass towards him.
“Like this?”
“That’s perfect, angel. Stay like that,”
You can hear him coming towards you. The weight of his body, bare chest against your spine is almost startling. He’s not crushing you, but you’re still completely pinned under underneath him. You wriggle your hips back, struggling to move.
His hand creeps lower and lower, finger slipping through your folds. He feels you up like that for a while, whistling.
“You’re so wet,” He coos. His voice is smooth in your ear. You moan. He rests his chin just over your shoulder as you turn your head to kiss him. Slowly, he slips his middle finger inside. You’re surprised how little resistance there is really. The pad of his finger reaches far, rubs against your g-spot without second guessing it.
Your squealing makes him do it again. It’s a careful move. Your body responds to him eagerly as he slips another one, steady. Until he’s knuckle deep, stretching out unhurriedly. When it’s no longer a tight fit, he pulls away from you.
Over you, he repositions. You can hear him spit in his hand behind you, the way his palms move against his cock. It’s all completely quiet besides that, lewd little noises that clue you into what he’s doing. Not seeing him makes the anticipation greater, leaves you vulnerable to whatever he wants to do.
“Missed this pretty pussy so much,” He hisses, the head of his cock pushing past your folds until he’s snug against your hole. The muscle clenches “So fucking warm,”
“Eren,”
He pushes forward, a calculated push of hips. You both moan when he enters you. Just the tip, just the familiar curve of his cock. Your inside ache, deep inside. A place only Eren could reach, you think. He groans nto your ear. Your feet are barely touching the floor in this position, Hardly reaching the ground, toes holding you up. The back of the couch digs into your stomach. It’s puts a pressure on your lower belly, that Eren must feel.
All your muscles are tense. Tight. The tip of his cock rubs against your walls. He’s so hard. Intrusive. You clench around him again. Jaw agape, you moan as he pushes even further.
“See that?” He whispers, against the shell of your ear. His hands grab yours, putting them behind your back till your defenseless “She remember me,”
The moan you let out is entirely involuntary once it hits you he means your pussy. Your walls spasm around him. He chuckles at that.
“That’s right. She loves me even if you don’t, doesn’t she?” Pulling his hips back until your empty, he fills you again. Harder this time. You choke on air “We made love tonight, didn’t we?”
“Eren, shit”
“I like when you say my name baby,” He says, another thrust “Like when your pretty pussy welcomes me home. It’s mine, isn’t it? Always has been. Bet he wasn’t making you feel like this, was he?”
All at once, you feel Eren for what he’s worth. You feel his cock, the curve and the shape the weight as it drags inside of you. You feel the weight of his body, all the stretch in your thighs as he casts over you like a shadow. The gravelly way that he speaks reverberating in your bones. He’s fucking you like he’s all the way in the bottom of your stomach.
Like a puzzle piece, Eren completes you on a level no one else in the world could. The way he talks to you reflects his, confidence not unearned. He’s cocky and awful, but his dick is doing this to you. Making your mouth fall open until your drooling underneath him. He answers every craving you ever had, that bone-deep sense of dissatisfaction that you’ve spent an entire year burying.
Eren fucks you like he’s in love with you, and only you. His cock kisses your cervix, and it feels like the same kind done at weddings. A vow to you, a promise. It feels so fucking good when Eren fucks you. Nothing in the world could ever quite comparing to that satisfaction. Deep in your body, primal and hungry.
“You were made for me,” He pants in your ear “Made just for me. No matter how far you go, I’ll find you. Remind you that. You get it now?”
You whimper out loud. Yes comes out naturally. Eren kisses your shoulder blade before sinking his teeth into it.
“Knew you would,
Eren fucks you the only way he’s ever known to. Deep and paced. You can’t say how he does it with anyone else, but with you it’s always been the same. Like he’s carving you out with his cock, the way you’ve always needed. You know you’re starting to be close again with each thrust. It’s a memory that your body welcomes.
Eren knows what you need to cum, but he waits. Like always, he keeps at it until your walls are tremor. Until you’re just getting there, and you need the extra push to get you to your end. He keeps you at the end as he fucks you, whispers filthy things in your ear until you reach the point of desperation that you’re begging.
“Please, Eren,” At your limit, pleaing “Please make me cum,”
“There’s the magic word,”
He snakes a hand around, reaching your clit and giving it a gentle rub. Everything happens at once. It’s perfect motion. Equilibrium. You can feel your knees start to give in as he gives it to you, the tension gently easing out. A carbonated soda, cracked open slowly to make way for the big finish. The release. Eren speaks to you again.
“Cum for me angel. Give it to me,”
Like a seismic wave, you cum hard on Eren’s cock just like he asked. He’s not far behind you, thrusting through the waves of pleasures. Your brain melts out of your ears completely, babbling to him to give you his cum too.
And he does in record time, shallowly rutting into you until you’re full of him, shooting deep. You feel your insides painted white, content at the feeling.
When he pulls out of you, you feel it drip onto his hardwood floors. You’re unsure of what comes next, but he pulls you right into your arms. Into his chest, even with wobbly legs.
“I’m not gonna let you go again,” He assures, more to himself than to you “You’re mine. Forever and always,”
Against your better judgement, you give in. Just for now. Just for the time being.
WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN ALL OF MY LIVES? (I BELIEVE IN THINGS LIKE YOU AND I)
“You’re beautiful,” He breathes your name like it’s a secret, in the way a child holds candy in a protective fist, hidden away from the world and entirely theirs to divulge in, “I think I’ve dreamt of you my whole life.”
You greet him with a giggle and a kiss on the cheek. Your laugh is melodic, a symphony that plays only for him, “That’s a bit dramatic.”
“It’s the truth,” He touches you with intention, swiping an arm around your torso to pull you against him and feeling the thrum of your heartbeat; the slow expansion and compression of your sternum as your lungs fill with air. He slows his breathing to match yours, “I think I knew you in all of my lifetimes. I’ll find you again after this one, too.”
He nuzzles his head against your hairline, just to feel all the small muscles of your face work to pull your lips into a smile. You entertain him, “How will you find me? How will you remember me?”
He answers your question with a question, with a handsome grin you can hear bleeding into his voice, “How could I not?”
“And what happens when the world ends? When there are no more humans left? No more lives to live? What then?”
“Matter is neither created nor destroyed; Only changed from one form to another.” His hand finds yours, massaging wide circles over the smooth knuckle. He opens your palm and traces mindless patterns in it, then spreads your fingers to trace the spaces in-between. “It doesn’t matter what form you take, my atoms will always recognize yours.” He stops, filling the gaps with his own fingers, holding your hand tightly.
You hum, tilting your head to look at him. You’re drenched in afternoon sunlight, the orange color reflected like fire in your eyes. Have you always looked so heavenly? “Do you believe love can last longer than a lifetime?”
“Of course,” He takes the initiative to close the gap between the two of you, lips molding against yours with an easiness that comes from generations of shared kisses, “Ours did.”
felt like writing something soft & sweet. to cure the agonies of wednesday <33
PAIRING. aki x fem!reader (established relationship)
LENGTH. 2.5k (also available to read on ao3)
NOTES. mappa aki has me acting unwise……
SYNOPSIS. aki misses you so much when he’s away for missions, especially when you start sending him suggestive texts on your lunch break. good thing he has a folder full of videos of you stashed away, right?
CONTENT. 18+, pwp, sexting, nudes, filming, exhibitionism (ish), pet names (baby, princess, sweetheart), solo (m) (he watches a vid the two of you made together): creampie, cumshot, ass play, daddy kink, breeding kink (light), multiple orgasms (m + f), begging; flashbacks/references to: oral (m rec), oral (f rec), facial, anal, solo (f), toys; reader wearing a skirt; a touch of codependent aki because i simply luv that for him <3
A/N. all my love always to my akiwife mystic @uppermocns for a few of the ideas that went into this and for thirsting for this man 24/7 with me!!!!
DO NOT INTERACT WITH THIS WORK IF YOU ARE A MINOR. BY CLICKING THE READMORE, YOU CONSENT TO VIEWING THE CONTENT STATED IN THE WARNINGS.
❪ ♡ ❫ ─── ⠀ ⠀⠀ close to you ⠀ 〳 ⠀ n.brown ‵
❪ ♡ ❫ ─── ( synopsis ) nicolas brown becomes close with a teacher in ergastulum's 8th district.
♡ ˙ ˖ ✧ — handyman!nicolas x teacher!reader, female reader, female anatomy described, canonverse, reader knows sign language, soft!nicolas, written with black reader in mind, oral (m.receiving), riding/cowgirl position, protective!nicolas, he feels you up wink wink, i know the gansta fandom about 25 people pls don't let this flop besties, dej is practicing writing soft smut, i put sign language in quotation marks bc i have read in this guide that it's best to do that when writing deaf characters, my entry for @maydayaisha 'anti collab event', wc: 5.2k, minors dni !
♡ ˙ ˖ ✧ — click here to join gangsta taglist
♡ ˙ ˖ ✧ — click here for gangsta masterlist
BEING A TEACHER IN A CITY THAT LURKED WITH TWILIGHTS AND CRIME WASN’T THE EASIEST. To you, it felt like it was the people with the most money that controlled Ergastulum. It sucked that much funding didn’t go towards the school, but you worked with what you had with the money you made. Buying little treats for your students from Gramps snacks to pencils and notebooks for students that didn’t have any. As you sat at the desk, you could hear the sound of your student Isabelle coloring in the coloring book you provided for her as you waited for her parents to pick them up. You could tell the little girl was growing impatient with each strike of the clock due to how harshly she gripped the yellow crayon in her hand. While your classroom lights flickered, you kissed your teeth when you realized that the handymen you requested to change the bub didn’t come today.
Isabelle glances up at you and your face softens. The little girl was seven and you knew that she was slowly getting a grasp on the things around her. Especially given that she was one of the only deaf students in your class. Her parents had a thing where they swarmed themselves with so much work that they forget to pick up their own child. You were frustrated and angry at the fact that they would rather keep themselves busy with their work than bother to pick up their child or show up to her little school events. You hated thinking that maybe they thought her loss of hearing was a burden. That made your stomach form the most hideous knots at the thought of it and the doe-eyed look she was giving you at the moment was ten seconds away from having your lip quiver.
You were used to it by now. She didn’t live that far away from the school, her house wasn’t even that far from your house. However, you didn’t trust the wicked streets of Ergastulum to let the little girl walk home alone. So, you found yourself walking her home no matter what.
“My parents forgot didn’t that?” Isabelle signed to you.
You could see that her bold brown eyes were beginning to water, “I’m sorry. They probably got caught up with work again,” You signed back. “Just let me finish up this lesson plan and we can head out, okay?” You soon signed back and you watched as the little girl lifted her hands to attempt to sign something back, but her movements were put to a halt when you heard a knock on your opened classroom door.
That’s when you saw him. Nicolas Brown. He wasn’t a stranger around the school—he and his friend Worick always found themselves fixing little things around the building like that one door that never actually closes or the one toilet that doesn’t flush. However, you never actually talked to either one of them. You’ve heard faint whispers about how attractive they were from other teachers, but you minded your business and ignored the mere gossip in the teacher’s lounge. You took notice that it was only him which you understood considering that you just needed a light bulb changed in the room. That task surely wouldn’t need two men to do. You didn’t say much just like him, but it was Isabelle who took note of the way he moved. It was as if she could pick up on his body language.
The little girl watched as he stood on one of the chairs to change the light bulb. Soon pushing herself from her seat and she waltzes over to him in a state of curiosity. Her head tilted to the side watching as he was changing the light bulb that your students kept complaining about. When he was done, Isabelle took the opportunity to tug at the man’s black-colored slacks he was wearing. When you glanced up after finishing the last lesson plan, you nearly leaped out of your seat seeing how close Isabelle was to him. You weren’t particularly afraid of him being around children, after all, he’s been in the school many times, it was the fact that she was in his personal space. You quickly stood up grabbing a hold of Isabelle’s hand and dragging her back to her. “You can’t be so close to people you don’t know.” You signed to her. “Please apologize.” You add.
Isabelle blinked at you a couple of times before she turned to a confused Nicolas to sign her apologies to him. Your lips parted to explain to him that she was signing that she was sorry, but to both you and Isabelle’s shock, you watched as Nicolas signed perfectly back. With Isabelle, the news that her parents forgot to pick her up causes a grey cloud to lurk over her small body, but watching Nicolas sign back to her—her face lit up so bright that you felt strings tugging on your heart. It was the same look she gave you when you successfully signed something for her. A rich feeling of being comfortable around some people.
“Okay, Isabelle. Now that Mr. Nicolas fixed our lights for us, we should get out of here. I’ll walk you home.” You signed while also speaking out loud so she could read your lips.
She gave you a nod before going to collect her belongings, while you did the same. You didn’t even notice that Nicolas was still standing in the middle of your classroom. Still astonished at the little kid signing back at him so perfectly and then struck by the sudden beauty of seeing you and the way you were gentle with the young girl. It was an experience he had never been able to experience growing up, especially with being a Twilight.
“Thank you, Mr. Nicolas. But we should really get out of here, I would hate to have to walk home in the dark,” You signed.
You watched as the once stern look that was pasted on Nicolas’s face disappeared. His posture relaxed in front of you before he’s signing, “I will walk you two to your destinations.”
Your chapstick-covered lips parted to argue, hands already going up to protest against his kind gestures. However, the tug at your charcoal grey pencil skirt by Isabelle caused you to abruptly stop. She was perfectly fine with this gentleman walking the two of you to your destination and the way she proudly led you and Nicolas out of the building showed that. The sky illuminated a faded orange color as the sun was just setting, reaching its season where it became darker earlier than usual. As you clutched at your bag, your eyes never left the child that was skipping with joy in front of you and Nicolas. The both of you basking in the silence as your feet followed Isabelle towards her home. She’s done this walk so many times that you were sure she could remember her way home blindfolded. You just didn’t trust to let her walk herself home considering her hearing being gone.
You and Nicolas’s arms lightly brushed against each other as you were walking alongside the sidewalk. You could see small shop owners prepping to close their stores for the evening. Once you could smelt the sweet scent of cherry pie that always came from Isabelle’s neighbor's house, you knew that the three of you were near. You watched as Isabelle leaned forward to let her small fist knock on the door. You took a couple of steps placing your hand on her shoulders protectively. You had to have this talk with her parents and when the door was opened, the strong smell of alcohol overpowered the cherry pie scent when you saw her father.
Your face scrunched up in disgust while it seemed the grasp on Isabelle’s shoulder tighten. You didn’t want her to go in there when her father was in this state. You watched as he stepped aside to let his daughter inside the house which caused you to finally let her go. You knelt down to her sight giving her a smile, “I’ll see you tomorrow. I’m going to come so we can walk to class together.” You signed to her.
Isabelle gave you a smile and nodded with quickness. Her eyes soon averting to Nicolas—whom you assumed walked away already now that you’ve reached Isabelle’s house. She signed a quick thank you before rushing into her home disappearing further and further inside the home. You stood up smoothing out the non-existent wrinkles in your pencil skirt, “Mr. Newman, I know you and your wife are extremely busy with work, but it’s important to have someone pick Isab—”
SLAM.
You jumped at the harsh door slam in your face, subtly flinching at the aggressive action done by Isabelle’s father. Your breathing hitched in your throat and your fist clenched tightly before your hand went back to knock once again. This time your knock was as harsh as the slamming of the door. When you heard the door unlocking, you could feel Nicolas's presence next to you. When Mr. Newman appeared at the door, in a span of two seconds Nicolas collected him by the collar of his shirt. The grasp he had on the drunken man was so tight that if you looked closely, you could see Nicolas’s knuckles turn white. He tugs him closer so that his mouth was near the guy’s ear. You stood there and witnessed Mr. Novak’s face turn to the most horrified expression. You even could see that his eyes begin to water at whatever Nicolas’s voice croaked in his ears. Then Nicolas released the hold he had on him, letting the man scatter to the ground and cough up apologies towards you.
“It’s okay, just please make sure to pick up Isabelle on time tomorrow and sober. I don’t want to get the cops involved,” You firmly stated before you’re twirling around and walking away from the house.
Your heart was pouncing against your chest as you realized what just happened. He defended your honor as if he was your knight in shining armor and you didn’t know what to say or react. As the two of you were walking, him promptly following you to your next destination, you stepped in front of him. The puzzled look he gave you caused your heartbeat to slow down. You now were taking in his features. Now understand why the teachers whispered about him in such a nefarious manner. He was attractive, extremely attractive.
“Thank you, I’ve always had trouble with her father.” You signed. “I can walk home by myself now.”
Even when you walked away, he still followed you like a guardian angel and you didn’t bother to protest against it. Once you stopped in front of your home, you would glance around your surroundings. You didn’t need any nosey neighbors peeking through their curtains to see the local elementary teacher letting a man into her home. You couldn’t afford to be the gossip in your small neighborhood, especially when the elderly have been urging you to settle down before your pretty looks fade away. With your keys in your hand, you would fall back on your dorr before signing to Nicolas, “To show my gratitude for you, please join me for dinner. It’s okay if you’re busy though. We can always do it another time.”
You studied his facial features, once again taking in how gorgeous he was. So caught up in your own thoughts before realizing that he had accepted your offer. His fingers snap in front of your face to break the trace that causes your cheek to heat up like a burning flame. You uttered an apology as if he could hear it before turning around to unlock the door. When you pushed the door open, you would step inside first. You turned the lamp that was in the living room on after quickly kicking off your shoes to slide into the house slippers you kept near the door.
Your house was like a sacred tomb to you. It was filled with so many memories, both good and bad and you had a thing where you just couldn’t let them go. The house was given to you when your grandparents passed away, some of the furniture once belonged to them. “I can take your jacket for you,” You signed before watching him tug off the jacket to give to you.
As he was taking off the jacket, his black colored shirt lifted slightly revealing bandages that were wrapped around his torso. You didn’t pester him about it because after all, he was just a guardian angel that looked out for you and your student. You were sure you wouldn’t see him after your kind gesture in return. After hanging up his jacket, you would motion around the living room filled with the comfortable sofa. “I’m going to start dinner in the kitchen, make sure yourself at home. Do you want anything to drink? I have water, beer, wine, anything.”
“Beer would be fine.” Nicolas signed to you.
You gave him a smile and twirled away to the kitchen to give him a beer. You walked into the kitchen turned the light on and went to grab the beer to give to Nicolas. Once you returned, Nicolas was comfortably sitting down on your sofa. You just were happy that he felt comfortable even though you two were technically strangers.
Y/N, your grandmother would faint if she saw you had a complete stranger in this house.
You placed the beer on the coffee table in front of Nicolas and eventually returned to the kitchen to prepare dinner. When you cooked, you always cooked as if you were cooking for a big family. Even though it was only you that walked around this home, you still had this tendency to cook as you were cooking for a big family. Usually packing the layovers for students who didn’t have lunch or a homeless person you walked by on your way to school. You wore your kind heart on your sleeve proudly and you were confident about that. So in tune with cooking as you hummed the lyrics to a song that was stuck in your head, you nearly jumped out of your slippers when you saw Nicolas leaning against the counter in the kitchen with a book in his hand.
After putting something in the oven, you wiped your hands onto the towel as he held the book up, “Oh, I used that book to help me learn sign language for Isabelle.” You signed with a smile as stepped forward.
Nicolas was flipping through the book. It was the same one from when he was younger. He still clung to that copy also but seeing a copy that looked brand new caused his heart to feel heavy. His fingers flipped through a couple of pages to see if anything new was added to the book compared to when he was younger, but it was still the same. He went to return the book back to its rightful spot, especially since while you were in the kitchen he was snooping around your bookshelf that was in the corner of your living room.
You could hear Nicolas’s footsteps while you were moving around your kitchen grabbing plates and forks to set the table. You stopped in your tracks to look at him as he was about to sign something to you, but he stopped. Perhaps, you were overthinking it. You wanted to think that he wanted to ask more questions about you learning sign language. However, your brain was telling you a man like him could care less about such a moment like that.
An hour and thirty minutes passed until you two finally sat at the table to eat. You sipped at your wine letting your eyes watch Nicolas before going back to eating dinner yourself. Your eyes glanced down to toy with the vegetables on your plate before hearing a tap on the table.
“You learned to sign for just one student?” Nicolas signed.
You could tell that this question was the one that he wanted to ask early. His eyebrows were knitted together in curiosity before he’s leaning his body forward while sitting across from you at the circular dining room table. If he moved any closer–his knees would be brushing against yours under the table.
“Yeah, it was either that or she would have to go to a school that was too far away from her home.” You signed back. “She’s quite clever for her age, so she’s been helpful as I continue to learn.” You add before letting your hands fall to your side.
“I can teach you also,” Nicolas signed.
“You’ve done enough Mr. Nicolas.” You signed back. “I don’t want to be much of a burden in your busy schedule.” You sign.
“I’ll make time.” Nicolas signed back before his lips formed a sly smile at you that caused your heart to thump against your chest in complete love struck.
“It seems like that copy of the book you had was important to you. You can keep that copy, I have another one at the school.” You signed to him with a smile before you went back to enjoying his company and the dinner you cooked.
When Nicolas left your house with the book, his appearance in your life became frequent. Isabelle’s parents seem to get the memo to pick her up from school on time and her father even kept apologizing despite his harsh actions being pushed to the back of your mind already. Instead of walking Isabelle home as you would walk home, Nicolas would be the one constantly walking you home. Some days you were forced to ignore the dried-up blood that was on his shirt or staining the silver Twilight tag around his neck just to adore the moments between you two. ‘Cause, you cherished the walks to your house and dinners at your house before he’s rushing off with Worick. On other days you were stuck reminiscing each time his lips brushed against yours as he’s rushing out of your house with his katana. Gosh, you were lovesick.
Those days turned to weeks and those weeks turned into a month of you seeing each other and one evening you could tell that something was up. It wasn’t a feeling that left worry in your mind, but you could tell something was on Nicolas’s mind. He was like one of your favorite books that you didn’t get tired of reading. You knew when something upset him, you knew when something bothered him. You just knew him.
While finishing up the aftermath of dinner, you were getting ready for bed alone. You expected tonight to be special, but Nicolas had to run out to fix something real quick. Frantically signing something along the terms of Worick needing something. It frustrated you that he would dash out here like that for Worick, but he explained the relationship between the two of them and you knew that you couldn’t get in between that. Especially considering the circumstances the two have been through since they were little. You treated the rest of the night as if it was a night before you met Nicolas. You did a little planning for your class tomorrow and you read a couple of chapters of your book before eventually letting slumber take over your body.
Forty-five minutes passed of you being asleep until you could feel the flicker of your light being switched on. You sat up and instantly rub the sleep out of your eyes before noticing Nicolas’s figure in the doorframe of your room door. You forgot you gave him a spare key to your place. He took a couple of steps forward in your room until he was at the end of your bed. You finally rubbed the rest of the sleep out of your eyes as you notice him holding the bouquet of red roses, some of them being messed up as if he was running with them.
“Nic, it’s so late. I thought you said you had to do something with Worrick.” You signed in between a low yawn but you did push the pastel-colored duvet off your body before crawling towards his frame that stood at the end of your bed. You sat on your knees in front of his huge stature collecting the roses out of his hand.
You tiredly chuckle before bringing the roses up your nose to spell them. The scent of the flowers lingering up your nose before you’re looking up at him, “You left to get these so late at night.” You signed to him with a smile as you watch him nod.
“The very last floral shop was about to close, paid extra money for them.” Nicolas signed with a sly smile. “Sorry that they’re messed up, I wanted to get back here quickly as possible.” He soon adds.
You felt your cheeks heat up while glancing at the flowers on your lap. “Why?” You sign to him and your curious eyes meet with his dark ones. Those dark eyes that once were so hard to read to you were now filled with possible love.
“It’s been a month since we first met.” Nicolas signed.
If you were in a cartoon, you would most likely die and viewers would see your transparent figure float towards the sky. You didn’t even think about what today was, but here Nicolas was leaving in the middle of the night to get you flowers for today. You excused yourself quickly to tend to the roses, being sure to place them in the living room right so they can be the first thing you see when you enter your home. When you returned to your room, Nicolas's eyes followed you with every step you took—you took the place back on the bed. Sitting on your knees and now your eyes were filled with just Nicolas. Your mind was thinking about Nicolas. Your body needed Nicolas. Your hand reached for his belt to undo it as your eyes met his in such an innocent manner but soon you felt Nicolas stop you.
“You shouldn’t feel obligated to do this just because I gave you some flowers.” He signed to you.
Regardless of his words, you could see the tent that was built in his pants. You chewed at your lower lip before signing back, “It’s what I want and what you deserve, now let me take care of you Nic.”
You watched as Nicolas’s lips parted to argue before his hands fell to his side and let you continue to push down his pants. When you finally disregarded him of the black pants he wore, your mouth watered at the bulge in his grey-colored briefs. This would be the first time you’ve seen Nicolas's cock. Late and lonely nights when you were left eager for his body, you were stuck with your own imagination of what his member would look like. Or what it would feel like inside you or in your mouth. The mere thought of it caused you to feel dizzy and your panties to be soaked.
Your finger traced alongside the band of his briefs before you tugged them down also. Teeth nibbling against your lower lip at the sight. It was like your imaginative mind was true all along. You visualized that it was thick. It was quite pretty. His perfect-shaped mushroom tip leaked with precum and his tanned colored shaft was decorated with a visible vein that obviously was noticeable due to how hard he was. You noticed that it had to be a while seeing his trimmed down there, but you didn’t care. Your mind raced with thoughts about just being sure to make Nicolas feel better. You inched closer to the edge of the bed while Nicolas was standing in front of you, his cock waiting patiently for you. Eventually, you’re enclosing the tip of his member in your mouth with ease. The salty taste of precum stains your tongue before you let your tongue wrap around it, gaining a moan from Nicolas. You flattened your tongue to attempt to fit more of Nicolas into your mouth. Your saliva already pooling outside your mouth as you felt the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat. You pulled apart after gagging just a bit, the string of saliva connecting from Nicolas’s tip. You inched a little closer to palm at Nicolas’s shaft and eventually placed him back into your mouth. Your hand palmed at the portions of Nicolas’s cock that wouldn’t fit into your mouth while you let your wet tongue swirl around his tip.
With each second, you spent with Nicolas’s cock in your mouth, you could hear his low whines. You felt his hand on the back of your head while he guided your movement as your head bobbed up and down mimicking the way a person would dribble a basketball. You could even feel Nicolas’s hips driving forward a little just to feel your mouth around him some more. Perhaps, he was attempting to cherish this one moment as if you were going to be taken away from him the following day. You moaned with the taste of Nicolas on your tongue and your hand reached in between your thighs to rub yourself through your panties. You were so eager for more of Nicolas that you were growing impatient. Soon, you removed yourself from his member with a pop. You let your tongue glide across your lower lip as you were finally able to give your throat a rest. At this point, you could feel your panties stick to your folds due to the wetness. You craved Nicolas immediately. “How’d you want to do this?” You signed, initiating what position he wants to do it in.
After all, this whole session was to assure the feelings between each other, but you also wanted to make Nicolas feel like the best man in the world. You watched his cheeks stain a crimson color as he fiddled with his thumbs and soon was signing to you with a quickness.
And that’s how you found yourself comfortably on top of him completely naked and ready to please him. Your pussy glides across the shaft of his dick as he grabs ahold of your face to kiss you. His tongue shoves its way into your mouth causing you to moan into the passionate kiss. Your hips grind against his hardened member eagerly before you’re forcing your way out of the kiss. A string of saliva connected the two of you as you lifted up. Nicolas’s fingertips traced alongside your collarbone to down to one of your breasts. Your nipples hardened at the sudden touch before you’re reaching behind you to grab his cock. You lifted your hips a little and lined him up with your entrance. Your juices coated the tip of his cock and you watched as Nicolas’s face scrunched up in pure pleasure. You inched yourself slowly upon his cock and bit by bit you felt him stretch you out. You could feel comforting grasps upon your body as your eyes flutter open to be met with Nicolas’s.
You rolled your hips in a manner to confirm that you were okay. The once intense feeling of you getting used to Nicolas’s cock inside of you was overpowered by the feeling of pleasure. Your head fell back with each rock of your hips, your mouth stuttered out profanity words and Nicolas’s name. Your hand prompted on his chest to hold yourself up while riding him and with the help of Nicolas's huge hands he was sure to guide the movement also.
You’ve had lovers in the past, just like you had sex with others also. But for some reason, tonight was much better than those past lovers and flings. Was it because you knew the feelings were mutual? Or perhaps it just was the heat of the moment after Nicolas' kind gesture.
“Fuck—“ You stuttered out before using your knees to bounce on Nicolas's member. You slick coating his cock with each movement on him. When you made such a lewd movement, you felt Nicolas' fingers dig into the flesh of your skin before he gave up trying to control what you were doing.
You watched with tear-filled eyes as he was eagerly watching you take his cock like a big girl. His hands found a place behind his head as if he was relaxing and watching an entertaining movie. With each dip of your hips, Nicolas’s head seems to sink further into the pillow in pleasure. His teeth clamped down on his lower lip before his eyes stared in between the space of the two of your bodies. The pornographic sight of watching his cock disappear bit by bit inside your dripping wet pussy.
Nicolas's body felt like he was undergoing a fever. His breath hitched in his throat when he felt you bottom down once again and let out a broken moan. Nicolas went years without his hearing and had no problem with it, especially considering who he lived with and has been around his whole life. But tonight he ached to hear the way your moans sound or the way you were whimpering out his name. With not being able to hear, he has learned to read your body language quite well. Just by the way your face looked fucked out at the moment, he could tell you were enjoying this just as much as he was.
He watched as you continued to ride him, your breasts moving with each glide of your hips or each bounce you’ve done on his cock. Nicolas could read your lips as you were gasping out that you were close to orgasming. His large tugged you forward so that your bodies were close to each other. Your bare breasts were now upon Nicolas's chest as his hips bucked upward. With each rock of his hips upward, you could feel the pit that sat in your lower abdomen get tighter and heavier. Sweat droplets decorated your forehead as you could only moan out begging for more like a desperate housewife. The fact that Nicolas's strong arms were wrapped around your frame completely trapping you from running from his lustful thrusting like a madman only was helping you get pushed further to the edge. You could feel the tight grip on your limbs and soon felt Nicolas thrusting become sloppy. The warm feeling of his cum squirting inside you once he felt your walls pulse around his cock caused you to instantly kiss him on the lips.
Your mind and body were distracted from the passionate kiss you and Nicolas shared to tug each other off the shared cloud of the two of you cumming. You could feel his fingertips tracing something upon your back. Your mind finally was able to mentally focus on what he was tracing until you finally realized.
Katsuki liked the quiet. Not always — invigorated by the bone rattling bass of explosive palms, trying not to grin when surrounded by his friends rambunctious laughter or enduring his mothers sharp nagging — but sometimes.
The apartment is still, and he is at ease. You watch him knowing there is tenderness written into your expression, because when he meets your gaze over the top of his book his eyes become narrow, framed by his reading glasses. It isn’t an accusation, more of a question. More of a what did you see that made you look at me like that?
He turns a page without a glance to the paper. It’s loud in the otherwise silent living room. You sit opposite him on the couch with knees tucked to the side, cheek leant against the back cushion with idle fingers tracing the seams. Katsuki is supported by the far arm, sitting upright with one foot left on the carpet and the other by your thigh. With it, he kicks you softly.
“Stop starin’ at me,” he mutters. You loved him so much, and he loved you too, but sometimes he wasn’t sure what to do with it. It lined his stomach heavily like a meal eaten in haste, uncomfortable to carry as if his body ran out of space.
Your lips thin as you fight a laugh, settling back and directing your attention to the phone in your lap. Your lockscreen is a picture of the two of you, a candid taken during a recent get together. Katsuki has his arm around your lower back, having cradled you against his front where your hands came to rest, and your foreheads were pressed together in what was a fleeting moment of solace. Denki had caught it on camera with the intention of teasing — mainly Katsuki for being so publicly sweet on you — but claimed it was too romantic to make fun of.
“What now?”
His voice is a little rough and warm, like he hadn’t used it in a while. You hum questioningly, and look back up at him.
“You’re smiling at your phone”.
“So nosey,” you say, smile widening as he glares. Reaching down between your hip and the cushion, you wrap your fingers around his ankle. “Maybe it’s a secret”.
At that, his mouth purses into a pout, lower lip jutted out in thought. Then he huffs and returns to the book in his hands, the beginnings of a frown pinched between his brows. “Fine. Tell me when you’re ready then”.
He’s consciously patient, always is. Plenty of people might disagree and you wouldn’t blame them for assuming that being headstrong translated to being impatient; but the Katsuki you knew did things methodically and with the intent to see it through. Good, long lasting results took time, that's what he believed. And that belief bled into all corners of his life, including his relationship with you.
But in this case, he knows that it’ll pluck at your heart string a bit. Twist them like spun sugar. You're willing to bet that he isn't even reading the chapter, just leering at the words until the edges start to blur, waiting for you to crack.
And you do. Fingers squeezing his calf decisively, you fold both legs beneath your body to crawl towards him. The distance isn't far and he's already lifting his arms to accommodate you, lowering them again once you've settle onto his chest. You can feel his wrists where they rest against your back, between them the spine of the book.
You peer up at him, nose brushing the line of his jaw. It's slightly rough where his stubble has grown in overnight. He leans into you, but continues to scrutinise the pages.
“Your handsome face”.
His eyes flicker towards you from behind the frames, light from the window pooling bright in his irises, “hah?”
“That was the secret. I was smiling at your handsome face on my phone. Couldn't keep it in any longer”.
His expression softens, but he still makes a show of clicking his tongue behind his teeth. “Dumbass,” he murmurs, readjusting his thighs to fit snug either side of your hips, holding you closer. “You just wanted some attention”.
No, you think amusedly, you did. “Maybe I missed you. You've been reading that book for ages”.
“Like hell. It's been one hour,” he knocks his chin into your temple in retaliation, “if you're so fuckin' deprived I guess I can read it to you”.
Warmth floods your chest. This, you hadn't expected. “Really?” you ask, your voice partially breathless. Your delight at the suggestion rings clear, and the bridge of his nose wrinkles.
Katsuki turns into your crown, hiding the embarrassment in your hair. “Whatever. It’ll keep you quiet,” and happy. He means happy. “I’m not starting from the beginning though. Tough luck”.
Leaning upwards, you peck the corner of his cheek in appreciation, which he tilts into with dissatisfaction. “Kiss me properly,” he says, and then he kisses you again, gently seizing your mouth for a few short seconds before nipping your bottom lip with his teeth. “There. Now hurry up and get comfortable”.
You hum in contentment as you return to your place on his chest, resting below his collar with the beat of his pulse by your ear. He begins to read aloud, stilted at first, the insecurity slowly stripped away until his tone is warm, low and soothing, as if it were rocking you to sleep.
You’re reminded again that all things needed respite. Even the loud, even the brash.
