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traveler-at-heart · 2 years

Text

Broken Beds and Healed Hearts

Summary: Bucky has a best friend that charms the Avengers with smiles and cookies. What happens when Natasha becomes a bit too enchanted with her?

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader, Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader (Very Platonic but cute imo)

A/N: Probably one of the first fic ideas I ever had... and only wrote it now. If you must know I loooove Bucky so this is all for me lol.

I’ve been away for too long! Love you all. Hope you like it :)

As soon as you set foot in the Compound, you’re reminded why you’ve always avoided the place. The high tech, the setting, the people in the halls are foreign to you.

Unsurprisingly, the guard doesn’t buy your story of bringing cookies to the Winter Soldier.

“What did you say your name was?” he presses and you sigh. You should have definitely stayed home.

“She’s with me” a harsh voice says behind the man and he recoils when a metal arm lands on his shoulder.

“Sargeant Barnes” the guard stutters.

“Give Miss Y/N L/N her own card”

“Mister Stark requests a full background check…” a look from Bucky and he stops talking. “Right away”

“Be nice, Buck” you ask when the man walks away. “He was just doing his job”

“Yeah, but what did he think? That you could hurt me?” he laughs and you elbow him.

“I totally could”

“Yeah, yeah”

“So… I brought some cookies… and wanted to ask how was your date with April”

The man hangs his head in defeat. You were right; you could be scary in other ways.

“It was fine. She’s great… I’m just not ready to date yet”

“Right” his answer is not a surprise at all. “Well, she had a great time. And I just want you to be happy. You know that, right?”

“Your cookies make me happy” he says, taking the container and holding it close to his chest.

“Well, just remember you can’t date them” you grumble, watching him stuff the biggest one in his mouth. You’re about to scold him, when your eyes meet green ones.

You’ve heard of her before. Seen her on television and papers. Hell, Bucky mentions her once in a while.

But nothing can prepare you for those striking eyes and her fiery hair.

“I should… go. Your friends are waiting for you” it’s hard to form words when you feel those eyes on you, so you shift your focus to Bucky and squeeze his cheek. “Be good, Grumps”

“Wait, you still need your pass” he shouts after you.

“You’re coming with me to the movies tomorrow. Bring it with ya”

“Fine”

“I’m sure it’s fine” Natasha says, but still follows after Sam.

“Uh, someone was asking for Barnes at the front desk. Barnes. Who does he hang out with other than us?”

“You just want to gossip”

“Hell yeah, I do. And, I was right” he nudges her side, head tilting towards Bucky’s back. He’s talking to a woman, a smile on her face as she rolls her eyes, handing over a container.

She’s placing a strand of hair behind her ear when her eyes drift away from Bucky, meeting Natasha’s across the room.

The redhead can’t look away, not even when she notices the woman is clearly flustered by her presence.

Sam has the decency to wait until she’s gone to approach Barnes.

“Is this why you bring cookies all the time?” he sing songs, wiggling his eyebrows.

“It’s not like that. Y/N is just a friend”

“A friend who brings you cookies to your place” Sam insists, making Natasha even more upset. “Damn, awesome cookies on top of that. Romanoff, try one”

“Pass” the redhead mumbles, staying in place. Even if you’re dating Barnes, she’s eager to learn more about you.

“It’s not like that. First of all, I don’t want to date. Second, she’s my friend. Plus, she likes broads”

“No one says broad anymore, man. And anyway, maybe she has a sister…” Sam looks up, scheming. Natasha snatches the cookie he’s holding. “You mind?”

She chuckles and walks away.

Damn, those are good cokies.

There is laughter coming from the kitchen.

Natasha hears Yelena and Clint, immediately assuming they are up to no good.

“You better not have eaten my… chips” she barges into the room, and it’s too late when she notices you’re there with them, while Bucky sits at the dining table.

“Your chips are safe, sestra” Yelena rolls her eyes. You chuckle and Natasha looks your way, trying to figure out if you’re annoyed at her sudden presence.

All you do is smile reassuringly, awkwardly waiting for her to say hello. Technically, you two haven’t been formally introduced.

“Want to join us? Y/N here is teaching me some basic baking to surprise Laura and the kids”

“I wouldn’t want to impose”

“You should join us”

Again, an awkward pause settles when you both speak at the same time.

“Alright” she nods and approaches the island, full of ingredients. You’ve barely started and you can already tell the Avengers are gonna be messy bakers.

“Lucky you, I have an extra apron” you offer, placing it over her head. Natasha fumbles with the strings and you smile, touching her lower back to keep her steady, securing it around her waist. “Here. Is that good?”

“Perfect” Natasha’s voice falters a little, but everyone knows better than to bring it up.

For the next hour, you take over the kitchen, giving what you’re hoping are clear instructions, supervising Clint while Yelena and Natasha team up to make some cookies.

“Don’t be gross” Natasha reprimands her sister as she licks the wooden spoon with the cookie mix.

“What? It’s delicious, here!” Yelena pushes the spoon all over Natasha’s face, practically forcing her to taste it.

“How’s everything going here?” you appear all of the sudden and at least Yelena stops annoying her sister.

“I was telling Natasha that my mix tastes delicious” the blonde argues. Before Nat can protest, you dip a finger in the mix and lick it clean.

You let out a low moan, nodding in approval.

“Nat, come on, you have to try it” you insist, bringing up the spoon close to her mouth. Her eyes never leave your face as she tastes the mix.

“Yeah, that’s… uh… delicious”

“Nice job, Widow team” and before you leave to check Clint isn’t burning the kitchen, you run your fingers across Natasha’s cheeks, flour spread across. You smile once you’re done. “All better”

You fail to notice the redhead blushing at the contact.

“Shut up!” Natasha grumbles at Yelena when the blonde cackles.

“I thought you were a spy! I can read you like an open book”

“No idea what you’re talking about, sis”

“Right”

Luckily for her, Clint is having trouble with his cupcakes, so you spend the next half hour supervising everything he does.

After putting everything in the oven and cleaning up, you all settle in the dining room next to Bucky. Natasha sits in front of you, hoping she can learn more about you.

Clint talks about his family and you listen intently. Just as Yelena is showing you pictures of Fanny, your phone pings and your hand flies to Bucky’s arm.

“Our movie!”

“Oh, damn” he checks his watch, offering his arm. “We better get going”

“I trust you can turn the oven off without blowing it all up” you ask, standing up and smiling at the group.

“We’ll manage” Yelena promises.

“You” you point at Bucky, smiling as he pouts. “bring the coat I left in your room, please”

“No popcorn if we’re late” he warns you and you roll your eyes.

“Enjoy the movie! And thanks for teaching me” Clint says.

“Anytime” you smile at him. You look at Natasha and you’re hesitant to say something, since she seems to be avoiding your eyes.

“Last one to the car buys the tickets” Bucky rushes past you.

“Not fair!” you squeal, leaving in a rush. “You’re cheating, Buck!!”

Natasha wishes she’d say something more.

The worst part is she has no idea when she’ll see you again.

—

Movie night was something Natasha usually avoided. For her, it was far more enjoyable to watch any film alone and say the lines along the characters.

Still, when Bucky mentioned he might bring a guest, she was suddenly interested in spending some time with the team.

“Hey, everyone” you greet, walking behind Bucky. “I brought some cookies and pie”

Sam cheers, but he sighs defeated when Bucky keeps staring at him.

“What, Barnes?”

“Move”

“No”

“Y/N and I can sit together. Move to that chair”

“Y/N can sit with me and you can sit on that chair” Sam shoots back.

“Guys, I really don’t mind…” you begin to say, looking over Bucky’s shoulder.

“She can sit with me” Natasha offers. Everyone turns, alarmed. Not only did she actively avoid most movie nights, Natasha also sat way in the back of the room to sneak out before it was over.

“Yeah, that works” you nod, hoping no one notices how nervous you suddenly are.

“Well, maybe we should let our guest pick the movie” Clint proposes.

“Not unless you want to watch Mean Girls” Bucky mumbles and you throw popcorn to the back of his head.

“Hey, that’s a good movie” Yelena chimes in and you nod.

“Yeah, but she only likes to watch it because she has a crush on that redhead girl”

“Oh” Clint perks up and you look down at your hands.

“That’s not the only reason…” you mumble but Bucky can’t keep his damn mouth shut.

“Yeah, you definitely have a thing for redheads. Remember that movie we watched with the spy? She was a redhead too”

“James, if you don’t stop talking” you threaten, pinching the bridge of your nose and clearly blushing.

Of course he’d say that right as you sit next to a redhead spy who happens to be literally perfect.

“Now I wanna watch that movie” Clint says, turning to the screen and searching for the title. You nod in confirmation when they find the movie and try to control your breathing.

As the film keeps going, you finally settle in your seat, leaning against Natasha.

“Sorry” you say but she just smiles, placing a cushion next to you. “Thank you”

“No problem”

“They all make it really hard to enjoy the movie” you laugh, watching the boys argue over what they would have done in the character’s situation.

“I know. This is why I prefer to skip movie night”

“But you stayed today” you turn around, looking at her for the first time.

“I don’t know” she shrugs, toying with her hands. “I guess I enjoy the company more than the movie”

“Well, you’re not asleep or asking too many questions so you’re already better than Buck” you both laugh at that.

“There’s this movie…”

“I was thinking…”

Again, you speak at the same time, but Natasha looks more mortified than you.

“What are we watching? Who are you?” Tony Stark appears out of nowhere, talking a mile per second. Before you can answer anything, he’s already tasting a cookie and speaking again. “You made these? Can you make like 300 of these for my kid’s birthday party?”

“Uh.. yeah. I can”

“Happy will send the details. Really great cookies” he says before disappearing.

“Sorry, he runs on caffeine and God complex” Natasha mumbles.

“What just happened?”

“I think Tony hired you for Morgan’s party” Natasha whispers, leaning against you.

“That’s what I thought. Wow” you look back to Bucky and lean forward, whispering in his ear. Natasha feels a surge of jealousy as he takes your hand and squezzes reassuringly.

“If you’re sure it’s alright” you confirm, going back to your seat.

“Yes, doll” he winks and you smile.

You’re no longer paying attention to the movie, focused on all the ingredients and work you’ll need to bake 300 freakin cookies in a week.

“What’s your type?” you blurt out all of the sudden.

“Excuse me?” Natasha blinks a couple of times.

“Chocolate, red velvet, chocolate chips, vanilla” you mention all the flavors as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“I’d go with chips. But red velvet is good too”

“Yeah, I like reds too. I mean velvet. But also… yeah. Redheads” you stumble with your words, hoping the blush on your cheeks is not so visible.

Natasha chuckles and whispers in your ear.

“You’ve got good taste, if I do say so myself”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah” she nods and you smile.

You’d definitely forgotten how long the movie is because once the credits are rolling, you’re fast asleep, head resting on Natasha’s shoulder.

“Come here. You can stay in my room” Bucky offers and you barely notice his movements.

“She can take my bed” Natasha says a little too quickly. Yelena has better sense to keep quiet about it.

“It’s fine. I usually sleep on the floor” he says, and you walk behind him, eyes barely open.

“Night, Tasha” you wave before going inside the room.

How she wished it was hers and not Bucky’s.

Next week goes by in a blur as you get ready to prepare 300 cookies and a birthday cake for the Starks.

Apparently, Morgan is in her fairy stage so everything requires sparkles and rainbows.

“Come on, fellas, chop, chop!” you walk in front of Bucky, Steve and Sam, all of them carring trays. You give them instructions to place everything.

The party is taking place in an open space, with bounce houses in the shape of castles and a playground.

Yelena is jumping around with Morgan in her arms, while Clint chases after his kids.

“This ok?” Sam says, his hands hovering over the trays he set down. You look over his shoulder and smile approvingly, squeezing his arm.

“Perfect, soldier”

He chuckles nervously and waits until you’re gone to speak to Steve.

“Yeah, ok, I see why Barnes lets her boss him around”

“I got a feeling someone else would like to be bossed around too” Steve looks over at Natasha, following your every move as you help Bucky carry the cake.

“Oh, damn. She’s gonna turn greener than Banner” Sam says as you stand on the tip of your toes to clean some of the glitter that got to Bucky’s cheek.

“Ew” he protests when you lick your thumb and then clean his face.

“Suck it up, Barnes” you say but he’s already laughing.

Tony meets you at the table, looking over at all the cookies and the cake.

“This is perfect! Pepper asked me to take care of one thing and that was the cake. So I’m certainly out of danger” he picks one of the cookies and bites, humming appreciatevly. “You’re staying, right?”

“Well…” you turn to Bucky and he offers his arm. “Alright”

You end up sitting next to Natasha.

“Hi” she says, trying to think of something to ask you.

“Doll, try this” Bucky calls over, handing you a tray of food and you moan as you taste it.

“Holy crap, this is delicious”

“If only Stark had more than one kid to throw a party to” Sam sighs. “By the way, I fully expect it to be named after me if you have another one. I saved your ass on that last mission”

“Not fair, I’m always saving his ass” Natasha protests.

“Well, we already named Nathaniel after you” Clint points out.

“That’s after you? That is so cute” you comment and Natasha blushes.

“Why are you all arguing? There is no child to name” Tony argues.

“We always gotta argue over something” Steve points out.

“Here” Tony sets a tray with some cookies and eadible decoration. “Whoever does the best cookie will name my hypothetical child. Y/N will pick a winner”

“Fine. But I’m leaving to get a drink. Surprise me when I get back” you get up, but lean forward to whisper in Natasha’s ear. “Good luck”

You wander around for a little, stopping to talk to Yelena and greet Morgan. Once they go back to playing, you walk over to get a drink.

“We’re gonna need five more minutes” Sam shouts at you, while the rest of them argues over what they’re doing.

“Take all the time you need” you say raising your drink, looking amused.

“So, which one is yours?” a brunette with long, wavy hair approaches you.

“The one with the metal arm and permanent frown”

“Oh, that’s neat. I didn’t know Bucky was dating someone”

“What? No. No, we’re just friends” you look back again, this time focusing on Natasha. “Plus, I think an Avenger is way out of my league”

“Well I think it’s the opposite. They could use someone who is normal, to bring them back to Earth. I know Clint does”

“So, you’re Laura!” you finally connect the dots and smile at her. “I’ve heard so much about you”

“All good things, I hope”

“The best, I promise” you’re tempted to ask how close she is to Natasha, considering one of their children is named after her, but just as you’re about to speak, Tony calls you back to the table. “Gotta make sure they’re playing nice”

“Good luck” Laura nods.

“Alright, kids. What have you got for me?” you look to the center of the table.

“There can only be one winner” Tony warns you and you nod.

One of them is decorated with the Falcon’s symbol, so it is not a mystery who did it. Most of them just have simple shapes done with frosting and sprinkles added on top.

But there’s one that stands out.

“This one” you immediately pick it up, admiring the work. Chocolate chips are forming a circle, simulating the seeds of a sunflower, while the petals are done with yellow frosting.

“That’s mine” Natasha says, smiling at you.

“It’s really beautiful, Nat”

“Not fair, I demand a trial by combat” Sam complains, but the redhead levels him with a glare.

“Can I sit now and enjoy my drink?” you plead, taking your place next to Natasha. Admiring the cookie, you put it aside. “Really nice job, Miss Romanoff”

“Thank you” she smiles again. “It reminded me of you. I mean, you were wearing a sunflower dress the first time I saw you” Natasha stutters, playing with the ends of her hair.

“That time I went to see Bucky at the Compound? I remember”

“I was a little jealous”

“What for?” you say, amused at the idea.

“That you were there to see him. I just thought how lucky he was”

“Well, whenever you want me to be there to see you, just ask”

Natasha keeps smiling, even hours later when she realises you uploaded a picture of the cookie next to a heart.

Yelena won’t shut up about it for the next week.

The Avenger’s gym is the last place Natasha would expect to see you and yet, there you are, chatting and joking with Sam and Bucky.

Clint’s the only one to notice Natasha stares a second too long, but keeps quiet about it.

You do some cardio and warm up, complaining the whole time. When Bucky starts doing push ups, you climb to his back and sit, asking him all the time if he’s tired.

He pretends he can’t hear you.

“We could be at the movies right now” you mumble and of course Bucky hears that.

“Exercise is good for you”

“Then why do I feel like I’m having a heart attack?” you shoo him away, sitting on the floor and sighing. Natasha is behind you, throwing some punches and sneaking glances at you.

“Should have invited your girlfriend” Clint sits next to you.

“Huh? I don’t have a girlfriend, Clint”

“Oh, the girl that drove you here” he says casually, knowing full well Natasha can, and is in fact, hearing everything.

“No, that’s April. My friend, who is VERY interested in Bucky” you try to get your friend’s attention but he ignores you. “Ass”

“I take it you’re not a fan of working out either”

“Is that so hard to tell? There’s just this really weird guy around my building and he’s not dangerous at all, but Bucky insists that I need to learn self defense. Or at least be able to run without keeling over”

“Well, we could teach you, right Natasha?” Clint perks up and you look behind you, blushing at the idea of being so close to her. On those very form fitting workout clothes, you might add.

And of course, you’re sure you’ll make a total fool of yourself in front of her.

“Yeah” she mumbles and then clears her throat, making sure her voice is more firm. “Yes, we can”

The three of you stand in the sparring mats, and Clint starts by asking you to throw a punch. He catches your wrist and shows you your own hand.

“Congrats, you broke your thumb”

“Huh?”

“Thumb goes curled below your tucked fingers” Natasha jumps in, being more gentle with her movements. She takes your hands, and shows you the correct way to make a fist.

You only nod to show you understand, sure that your voice will break otherwise.

After that, they teach you a couple of moves and it turns into something actually fun. Natasha thinks it’s adorable how you celebrate everytime you get something right.

“I think Natasha should fight you to practise some moves” Clint says after a while, trying to hide his smirk.

“What?” you both say, looking at each other.

“She’ll go easy on you, right, Nat?”

“Yeah. We’ll go easy. Don’t worry” she squeezes your shoulder and you blush again.

“Alright, do we have a set of rules?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like Cobra Kai, strike first, no mercy? No? Nothing?” you insist as they look at each other. “Well, at least now I know what we’re all watching for next movie night”

Natasha begins to walk towards you, while Clint reminds you the basics of the training. She throws a very slow, gentle punch and you manage to get out of the way.

“Fuck yeah” but a second later, she comes behind you and locks you in a tight position.

“Don’t lose your focus” she whispers in your ear and you’re sure your brain stops working completely.

As she lets go of you, you start all over again. Natasha goes slowly at first, but increases speed when you gain confidence, making sure you’ll be able to anticipate her moves.

At some point, however, her muscle memory gets the best of her. After throwing a punch of your own, she completely defies gravity, her legs going around you and throwing you to the ground.

There’s a moment of silence when you both land on the floor, Natasha on top of you. She stares wide eyed for a second, until you erupt in laughter.

“Holy shit! That was so fucking cool!! Can we do it again?”

“Are you ok?” she says, not leaving her place on top of you.

The proximity and how hot it was to see her do that make you a bit bolder, so you wrap your legs around her waist and squeeze.

“Oh, I’d say this is more than ok, Romanoff”

Her eyes grow darker at your words.

“Alright, I wanted her to work out, not kill her” Bucky jumps in and Natasha stands up. You miss the weight of her body.

“I’m fine, Grumps” you take Bucky’s hand and stand up, a bit disheveled.

“Fine, I give up, let’s go to the movies”

“You’re no fun” you complain, laughing at how annoyed he is.

You wink at Natasha, leaving after your best friend.

“So when are you asking her out?” Clint grumbles.

He isn’t prepared for the leg sweep Natasha throws his way.

“Damn it, Tasha, I’m trying to help”

—

Clint was right, but he’d never hear Natasha admit it. She should ask you out.

But there’s one thing she needs to do first.

Just as every morning, Bucky is going at war with one of the punching bags. She knows better than to speak to him, which is why alarm bells immediately ring for the soldier when Natasha approaches.

“Hey, Barnes”

“Romanoff” he groans in acknowledgement, hoping that the exchange stays at that.

It doesn’t.

“I wanted to ask you something” Natasha waits a second, hoping he will engage but he keeps punching and grunting. “It’s about Y/N”. At the mention of your name, he punches just a little harder, and faster.

Natasha realises it won’t go well, but she’s too far gone to take it back.

“Can I ask her out?” the redhead blurts out, a bit too rushed.

“I don’t know, can you?” Bucky grumbles and she rolls her eyes.

“You know what I mean”

“You’re both adults, nobody needs my permission and it’s certainly none of my business” he finally stops throwing punches, but refuses to meet Natasha’s eyes, going to fetch his water bottle.

“But you don’t approve”

“It doesn’t matter”

“It matters to me” Natasha insists and he finally turns around, annoyed.

“I don’t want her to get hurt”

“And you think I will hurt her”

“I just don’t know if any of us has a shot at a normal life with the way we live”

“Clint has a family, they make it work alright”

“Sorry, is this just about a date or are you asking for her hand in marriage?” he snaps.

“I… I don’t know. I’ve never thought about my life in that way”

There it is.

“When you date someone, there are expectations. I’m just saying you need to make sure you’re ready to meet them”

“Fine, forget I even asked”

Bucky calls after her but she’s gone in the blink of an eye.

—

It’s very clear to everyone that Natasha is in a mood.

Yelena is the only that actively engages with her sister, though her efforts to cheer her up are in vain. It all clicks into place when it’s movie night and you’re there, but she isn’t.

“No Nat tonight?” you seem disappointed and the blonde perks up.

“She’s on a mission”

“Nothing dangerous, I hope” you try to hide how anxious you actually sound.

“She’ll be back in a day or two” Steve eases your nerves and you nod.

The whole time, Bucky is frowning, barely paying attention to the movie.

“I’m getting more popcorn” you announce to no one in particular, leaving the seat next to your best friend empty. Yelena leans forward, whispering in Russian.

“What the hell happened?”

“It’s nothing”

“Liar, liar, pants on fire” Yelena pulls him by the ear, just as you go back into the room.

“That only works in English” he bites back, rubbing his ear.

“What does?” you chime in, taking your seat again and they both pretend to be focused on the film.

Yelena doesn’t let it go, however. Just like her sister, she decides to interrupt James’ workout time.

The blonde is a little less sublte, unplugging the treadmill and making him fall to the ground.

“Stay down” she commands, her accent thicker than usual. “Barnes, whatever it is you said or did, you better fix it”

“Or what?”

“Or I will annoy you every day for the rest of our lives until one of us is dead. My first thought was attaching magnets to your arm. Nothing dangerous, something silly like those that are shaped like letters. I thought about spelling “STUPID” with them” she lets out a chuckle at that. “Yeah, that would be actually very funny. I also thought about calling Papa and telling him you want to train with him. And you know how annoying he gets around other super soldiers.”

“Fine. I’ll fix it”

Bucky can’t take another one of Alexei’s visits.

“Good. That’s what I wanted to hear” she smiles, as if she wasn’t ready to kill him.

Natasha is at the kitchen island, eating some cereal and thinking about the movie night she missed. And how she missed you.

It’s probably for the best, seeing as Bucky doesn’t agree with the idea of you dating.

Her thoughts are interrupted by a constant buzzing. The redhead looks around, puzzled by the sound until she spots Bucky’s phone.

She gulps when she sees your name on the screen. You call two more times and by the third one, she decides to pick up.

What if it’s an emergency?

“Did you have a senior moment and forget you were supposed to help me with my apartment?” you say, amused.

“Uh… hi.”

“Nat? Is Buck ok?” you say, anxious.

“Yeah, he’s fine. He left for a mission. Won’t be back for a couple of days. Guess he forgot his phone”

“Oh” you sigh with relief. “That’s weird, I thought he was leaving tomorrow. Thanks for letting me know”

“Do you need any help?” Natasha asks, in spite of everything. She can’t stop herself if there’s a chance she could see you.

“I do, but don’t feel like you have to help me. I’m sure you’re tired from your mission”

“It’s ok, just a short recon and some doors to knock down” she smiles, playing with the food on her plate. You laugh at her casual tone.

“Did you do the thing with your legs? I’m so jealous of those bad guys right now”

She’s glad you can’t see her, because Natasha’s cheeks are as red as her hair.

“Anyway, if your offer stands, give me your number and I’ll text you the address”

“You got it”

—

Natasha is alarmed at the speed of your steps after her first knock. Her hand is still in the air, ready to hit the door again when you open it and look at both sides of the hall.

“Quick, come in” you pull her by the belt loop of her jeans, surprising Natasha with your strenght.

“What’s…”

“Y/N, is that you?” a voice says and you curse under your breath. Pulling Natasha back, you peak past the door and smile. She tries to control her breathing at how close you are, especially with those shorts and tank top.

“Hi, Mrs. Patmore” you say to the woman, hoping the conversation is quick.

“Is James there?” she asks, fixing her gray hair and pushing up her big glasses.

“No, no, Mrs. Patmore, it’s just my friend Nat”

“Oh, well” the woman looks disappointed and you try to stiffle a laugh. “Let me know when he comes over and I’ll make him some sandwiches”

“Yes, Mrs. Patmore” you begin to close the door, relieved when your neighbour goes back to her own apartment. “Sorry about that. My 70 year old neighbour is a bit in love with Buck”

“Oh, is she?” Natasha says in a tone that lets you know she’ll use this information for her own benefit.

“It’s sweet except when we’re late for something and she keeps talking to him”

“Well, she’s still too young for him”

You snort at that.

“Never thought about it that way”

Natasha feels a surge of pride for making you laugh. It’s quickly forgotten when you take her hand and lead her around the house, giving her a quick tour.

“Buck was supposed to help me paint the bedroom and assemble the bed. Got a new one because my back was killing me”

“Alright, let’s get to work”

“Not in those clothes. Bet that jacket costs more than my couch”

“Oh, it’s fine”

“No worries, I got you” you ease the other woman, handing over a lose t-shirt and another pair of shorts.

She looks way too good wearing something so simple.

Time passes by and as you paint the room, soft music plays in the background.

“Can I ask you something?” her voice interrupts the comfortable silence and you hum. “How did you meet Bucky?”

You chuckle at the memory.

“Went in to my store crying about a surprise party and how the cake was his responsibility but he had no idea what to bring. So I helped him. Came back to thank me a few days later. I thought he was a mess. But a nice one” you smile.

“That was for my birthday” she informs you. “And he was right, that was the best cake I’ve ever had”

“Thank you” you blush a little. “I kinda figured it was for you since he said it was for a pain in his ass with very red hair and a hate for birthdays”

“What an ass” Natasha mutters and you laugh. “I really thought you were dating… I mean I guess it’s easy for people to assume since you’re so close”

“He’s not my type because I’m… well, gay. But he is my best friend. I want him to be happy, even if he thinks he doesn’t deserve it. And he’s kind and has a big heart. As much as he tries to hide it. He’s my Grumps” you say affectionately.

Natasha regrets bringing it up. Now she knows for sure she could never ask you out. She’ll screw up and then things will be awkward for everyone.

You finish painting and then wait a little while for the walls to dry. It doesn’t escape you that Natasha seems lost in her thoughts but you let her be, bringing out the assembly manual for the new bedframe.

The first fifteen minutes are spent reading it over and over again.

“Everything alright?” Natasha says, clearly amused and your frown deepens.

“It’s like it’s written in Russian”

“Well, lucky for you…” she smiles and you roll your eyes.

“Fine, if you think you’re so good at it” you hand over the manual and smile, bringing your face closet to her, eyes darting to her mouth. “I’m gonna make us a snack”

“Y-yeah. Ok”

You smile, glad to have corrected some of her smugness and go back to your kitchen to get something to eat. The redhead is stubborn, and won’t eat until she’s done with the bed.

“Is this how all spies act? I swear I’m arguing with Grumps” you mumble but she doesn’t even listen, shooing you out of your own room with a flick of her hand.

Giving up, you scroll on your phone, answering messages about new orders for the bakery.

“Done!” Natasha claps her hands together and you leave your seat at the bar stool to inspect the work.

“I’m impressed”

“It was nothing” Natasha says, shrugging her shoulders.

“Except there are some nails and pieces left there” you point with a smirk to the floor.

“Those are spare parts” she sounds less convinced this time and you approach the bed.

“So if I were to, you know, jump here, it wouldn’t just fall to the floor?”

“I stand by my work”

“Huh” you sit down, feeling the sturdiness of the frame. “Well, that’s only me, but if we…” you think out loud with a smirk, and before Natasha knows it you pull her down with you.

She lands on top of you, and she can feel you shaking with laughter beneath her.

“Gotcha” you say, looking up and Natasha smiles. She doesn’t have time to pull away when you kiss her, slowly but passionately.

“Can I take you out as a thank you for helping me today?”

“I’d love that…” she smiles, but a second later remembers why she shouldn’t, so she stands up.

“But…” you sit up too, watching her expectantly.

“I don’t want to make things awkward”

“Whatever it is Bucky told you, please ignore it. I’m sure he means well but I’m a grown woman and I can make my own decisions. I really like you, Nat”

“I like you too” she smiles, wondering if it’s selfish of her to give up so easily.

“Leave Grumps to me” you promise, pulling her back down to the bed. “And meet me back here at 7. We’re having dinner to celebrate”

“Ok” she nods and you kiss her again, smiling against her lips.

It’s nice to be home, Bucky realises once the Quinjet lands and he sets foot in the Compound.

He’s in a hurry to check his phone and call you. He spent this week planning how to fix his mistake with Natasha.

“Hey, Grumps. Who you calling?” a familiar voice says behind him, and he turns around to see you entering the kitchen.

“Ah. You”

“Well, I’m right here”

“How did you know I was coming home today?”

“I didn’t. I’m here to see Natasha. For our third date” you shrug your shoulders and smile. You’ve practically spent every moment together after fixing your apartment.

“But when… how…?”

“I’m the one who asked her out, if you must know. And I don’t know what happened before but it doesn’t matter” you reach out for his hand and smile. “You are my best friend and nothing changes that. I’m still going to go with you to all those silly horror movies”

“I just want you to be happy”

“I am. And I love you, even if you act weird when I say it out loud”

“Agh, too much emotion for me” he pretends to run away, but you hug him and he gives up, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

“Hey… everything good?” Natasha walks in, looking between you two. Bucky stops smiling and walks up, dangerously close.

“Uh, Buck?” you say, holding your breath.

“She’s my best friend. Don’t hurt her”

“I won’t. I promise.” Natasha gives in and you come between them.

“Jeez, sooo much drama. I’m just a baker, you guys. Chill out. Come on, before we miss our movie, unless Bucky wants to join us and watch the most recent rom com?”

“Pass” he says, picking up his bag and sprinting down the hall. You both laugh at the way we practically slams his door.

“Alright, what time is our movie?” Natasha says and you put your hands around her neck, pecking her lips.

“Actually, I was thinking we could…” you play with the lapel of her leather jacket, and smile. “Test how strong the bed actually is… you know what I mean?”

“Yeah” she nods and you smile against her lips.

“I told you” you laugh against Natasha’s neck and she chuckles. The bed gave in after 15 minutes of some very intense make out session.

Not that it stopped either one of you.

“Well, in my defense the manual was most definitely not written in Russian”

“I’ll tell Grumps to fix it”

“Make sure he knows why we broke it”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” you smile, your hand going up and down her toned abs.

“Kidding me? I get to brag about being with you and make him uncomfortable. Double prize”

“Evil” you both laugh.

“What you thinking about?” Natasha says after a moment of silence.

“What’s your favorite thing I do? Cookies or cupcakes?”

“That’s what you’re thinking about?”

“Yeah” you sound hesitant, feeling a bit silly now that it’s out there.

“Let… me… think” Natasha kisses every inch of your face between words. “My favorite thing… are your kisses”

“Sap” you say, melting at her intense gaze. “In that case...”

You lean forward, your lips moving against hers slowly.

There’s no rush, with Natasha next to you in a broken bed.

You’re the happiest you’ve ever been.

#Natasha Romanoff x Reader #Natasha Romanoff x You #Natasha Romanoff x Y/N #Natasha Romanoff Imagine

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kristeristerin · 1 year

Note

I saw your post and OMG Eris x reader Drabble with Taylor Swift’s Love Story would be amazing!!

AN: Thank you so much for the ask! This ended up taking a different route that I'd originally thought it would, but I hope you enjoy it!

I'm having so muh fun writing these already and can't wait to post more!

If you want to request a Taylor Swift X ACOTAR drabble just send me an ask with the song and character you'd like to see! I'm hoping to get through her entire discography eventually! <3

Song: Love Story

Pairing: Reader X Eris

Content warnings: None

Words: 798

Summary: After an arguement with your brother regarding your relationship with a certain High Lord's son, your Mate shows up to whisk you away.

“He’d never hurt me!” you yelled at your brother, though you knew it was in vain. He’d made up his mind about the Autumn Court heir many years ago.

“You don’t know that,” Tamlin ran a hand through his already disheveled hair. Your argument was taking a toll on his usual immaculate appearance. “You don’t know what he or his court is capable of. I am just trying to keep you safe.”

“No,” you shook your head at him, “You’re trying to control me. You don’t want to admit that I am old enough to make my own choices. Eris is my mate! I felt the bond tonight and he did too. Please be reasonable Tamlin.”

Your brother slammed his hands down onto his study desk. “You know damn well-being mates doesn’t mean anything. Look at the relationship between Mother and Father. They two ran head first into what they believed was a love match and instead ended up in misery.”

The reminder of your parents brought tears to your eyes as you stood and began to walk toward the door. “He’s not Father, Tamlin. And frankly, Neither are you. I don’t need your permission to pursue my mate.”

You pause at the sound of wood splintering behind you, but you don’t dare turn around.

“I may not be Father, but I am your High Lord and you will do as I say.”

You look over your shoulder enough to see his claws out and digging into the desk before you shrug, “You’re my High Lord for now, brother, but understand this conversation is far from over.”

You hold your breath as you quickly exit the room and shut the door behind you. The sound from Tamlin’s study tells you that he is once again tearing the place apart. You can’t help but wonder who you really need protection from.

Once inside your bedroom, you take a moment to steady your breathing, before a shadow on your balcony almost causes you to scream. Quickly crossing the room you pull the male inside before throwing yourself into his arms.

“Eris, what are you doing here?” you whispered. “If Tamling finds you here he will kill you.” You clutch his tunic with both hands and bury your face into his chest.

“I came for you,” he angles your head up to look at him. “I admittedly don’t have much to offer you, and there is still so much that we have to work out. But everything that I am and everything that I possess is yours.”

With that, he takes a step back from you and drops to one knee taking both of your hands in his. “Y/n, My mate, my love, will you do me the honor of also becoming my wife?”

You can’t help the tears that begin streaming down your face as you silently nod. You pull your hands from his and launch yourself at him, causing him to lose balance as you both fall to the floor with a dull thud. The sound seems to echo in your otherwise silent bedroom.

The next thing you know you can hear a door close down the hall and Tamlin’s heavy footsteps making their way toward your bedroom. Before he has a chance to knock on your door you are across the room and speaking to him through the door. “I’m fine Tamlin. I knocked over a stack of books. Please leave me alone, we will speak at breakfast tomorrow.”

He is silent for a moment before you hear him sigh, “Very well, but I expect you to be ready to listen to reason in the morning. Good night, Y/N.

You and Eris remained silent until you heard Tamlin’s door shut down the hall. Then all at once you moved toward your wardrobe and began throwing a few things into a bag. You tossed the hastily packed bag onto your bed before you moved to your desk and scribbled out a note for your brother.

When you were finished you noticed Eris was once again waiting on the balcony, this time with your bag in one hand and his other hand reaching out to you.

“All that’s left to do is run,” you smile at him as you put your hand in his and he winnows you both away.

—-------------------------

The next morning Tamlin sat in your now ruined bedroom with your note clenched in his fist.

Tamlin,

By the time you read this, I’ll already be gone, and Eris and I will likely already be married. I am happy and safe. Please do not try looking for me. I will reach out again once we have both had time to cool down. In the meantime, take care of yourself.

With all of my love,

Y/N

#eris x you #acotar fanfiction #eris x reader #acotar fic #eris vanserra #acotar drabble #acotar x you

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justinmitchellfan · 10 months

Text

ARIANA GRANDE X MERCEDES VARNADO LOVE STORY SMUT WARNING ⚠️ PART 11 of the continuation of the she's the one love story

Chapter 30 title: new look

Mercedes point of view

We spent the rest of our time in the studio recording some more songs, I ended up recording: Hollywood, can't help, wet the bed, B.E.D, suffocate, feel it, don't judge me, dump truck, pony, superhuman, no bullshit, loyal, tio, touch me, and I wanna be. I showed meg and cardi climax and feelings and they lived them and when I had finally stepped out of the booth, I released a tired yet happy sigh and cardi actually asked Ariana about a threesome and then kept asking when ari laughed and I was big shocked when Ariana shrugged and said "alright yall can have your threesome on one condition says Ariana and wide eyed, Meg asked "ok what is it says Megan thee stallion and Ariana smirked, looking between the two women and said "you let me join in says Ariana

My jaw dropped and Megan, cardi and Ariana smirk at each other and once I gather my bearings, I low key high five Adam and say "shit you already know I'm down just uh say when says mercedes and after that we all finish up and cardi says "welp I'm about to head out but here's my number, text me the details for Tomorrow, it's been way too much fun to work with yall says cardi as she makes sure to look at me last, her hand no so discreetly resting on my arm and Megan nods and says "yeah you're a lot of fun to work with we need to collab more and here's my number as well, we should make a group chat or something says Megan and mercedes says "fuck yeah, you guys are amazing to work with we need to do this again but yeah I'll text you guys says mercedes

We all hug and say goodbye before they leave and then Adam says "actually I think we're gonna head out as well but here's our number, text us with the details for Tomorrow and when you want to start working on our album says Adam "we can work on it here at the label day after tomorrow says mercedes and he nods "okay cool ,we'll see you tomorrow, bye mercedes says Adam and we say our goodbyes and head to the car to make our way home, Anthony and Courtney take the middle seats, leaving me and Ariana to climb in the back and I wait for them to start their own conversation before I look over to Ariana "hey uh babe as I grab her hand nervously playing with her fingers "were you serious, you know about the foursome says mercedes

Ariana shrugs "do you not want to says Ariana "I mean uh I agreed jokingly, they're both as I stop myself from mentioning their looks, just moving past that part "I only need and want you baby says mercedes and Ariana smiles and cuddles into my side, me instantly wrapping my arms around her "good answer baby, cause I'll be damned if I share you with anybody says Ariana and laughing I nod and hold her in my arms until we get to the apartment, we all excitedly climb out of the car and head up, the second we're inside everyone heads to the studio and my jaw drops as I step further in, my eyes moving around the whole room and they put a wall up to make a booth which is just perfect

"This place is dope says Anthony sliding onto the leather loveseat at the back of the room and he groans and sinks into and I can literally see how soft that thing is and I nod along and say "I know right, it's gorgeous says mercedes and seeing this place all finished and even better than I could've imagined, I get Inspired all over again and before I can take two steps towards the soundboard, Ariana grabs my hand "baby, you've been in a studio all day, I know this Is exciting but you need to sleep, let's go to bed, you'll have all kinds of time to work in here later says Ariana as her nails gently run over my arm and I damn near melt at her touch and I do in fact feel how tired I am the second she mentions a bed and I sigh with a nod

After we all say goodnight we head upstairs and go our separate ways, the both of us take much needed showers before I crawl into bed with her, my head resting on her stomach as she plays with my hair and I wake up around six a.m the next morning before anyone else so instead of waking them up, I get up very carefully and quietly, grab my phone and head downstairs to the studio and once again u take in how sweet this place is and get comfortable in front of the soundboard and plugging in my laptop to the equipment, I wait for the music files from Cass to load ,while waiting I see that I've been added to chat with cardi and Megan and that they've been talking damn near all night, I decide to join the conversation:

Mercedes🔥😍👅💦🤤: wassup ladies, suprised yall up this early

Cardi🤣 💯 😉💋: I got mommy duties, kulture don't care Nothin bout time

Hotgirlmeg👅💦🍑🙊💯: I'm usually up this early to kick people out cause they like to start over if y'know what I mean

Mercedes🔥😍👅💦🤤: yea I get u, I was just workin on some more music since they finished the studio at home cause this junk dope and mad inspirin

Mercedes🔥😍👅💦🤤: I won't be long tho so after I make breakfast fa everybody we can go hang, that coo

Hotgirlmeg👅💦🍑🙊💯: yea for sure send me the Addy and ima bo omw 🚶

Cardi🤣💯😉💋: jus waitin for this nigga to come pick up kulture since he wanna take her awhile he should b pulling up any minute now

Mercedes🔥😍👅💦🤤: *address*

Hotgirlmeg👅💦🍑🙊💯: leavin now

Hotgirlmeg👅💦🍑🙊🤣: n don't start nothin yet, I wanna hear them songs

Cardi🤣💯😉💋: OKUR, he just got here so I'm comin too

Mercedes🔥😍👅💦🤤: ight bet I'll wait for yall, don't be Takin all day 😝

I just mess around with the equipment while I'm waiting, getting familiar with the controls and stuff until they text that they're pulling up, I call down to the front desk and let them know I got two guests comin up and to just let them in and shortly after there's a knock at the door and I go pull it open and the first thing cardi wants to do is start shouting and cheering so I shush her and tell them to stay quiet ,I ain't trying to wake the others up yet and we get In the studio and I say "it's sound proof in here so we don't have to stay quiet says mercedes and this elicits cardi to start cheerin again as she hugs me in greeting and I just laugh and hug back and Megan is nodding and looking around the room "damn, this looks better than some professional studios I've been in says Megan

I say "shit I hope so, that's what I was aiming for but anyway, yall ready to put in some work says mercedes "oop, I thought we was waitin for ari says cardi sticking her tounge out and winking at me "I mean music girl as I laugh and shake my head and with their help, I manage to get some more bangers done and I name them: mi gente, I don't care, cruise, come get her, and what's your fantasy and every time I finished a song they started cheering and dancing to the song and I can't not record them getting lit to my music, I just don't post them and after I save all the files on the laptop and a backup drive, we move to the kitchen, while I'm making breakfast I talk to them about what tattoos we're going to get and I tell them about what kinda haircut I'm getting (them both making some suggestive comments on it)

I finish breakfast and I ask them if they can set the table for me while I wake up the others and when they just agree like it ain't nothin I nod, we've only known each other a few hours but we comfortable as hell with one another and I'm glad about it and I go up to the knuckleheads room first and knock on the door, I wait a couple minutes then I poke my head in to see them cuddled up, sleeping all cute, I decide to wake Courtney first and gently shaking her until she opens her eyes with a yawn ,squinted eyes focus on me and she asks "morning mercedes, what's up says Courtney "morning court as I smile "I made breakfast for everybody, it's ready downstairs, oh and Megan and cardi came over so we can all head out after says mercedes

She nods still blinking away sleep "I'll wake ant up says Courtney "nah I got it, you can head to the bathroom as I tell her and she thinks nothing of it since she's still waking up and the second she shuts the bathroom door, I tame two steps back and then immediately launch myself onto Anthony, he immediately curls himself into a ball as I wrap my arms around him and repeat 'wake up' in his ear and snapping out of his sleep haze, he pushes me off and punches at my arms, I take the hits ,still laughing my ass off "fuck you mercedes says Anthony "yeah yeah dickhead ,we got things to do today so get ya ass up as I smack his ass over the covers before running out before he can hit me again

The second I'm back in my room I awe at the sight of Ariana cuddled into my pillow, my baby likes to be held, she sleeps better that way and I just left her and I walk around to her side and gently shake her but she doesn't budge and pouting, I crawl onto the bed, hovering over her and pressing little kisses to her face and neck and a soft whimper escapes her lips when I leave a kiss on her collarbone and she sleepily moves her head back to give me better access to her neck "you gotta wake up gorgeous, we got plans today as I whisper to her, stroking her bare leg, purposely ghosting over her inner thigh and her legs are spread a bit as her brown eyes Slightly open and I notice her pupils blown and slightly glossy "you can't start something and not finish it mercedes says Ariana

I smirk at her "baby girl I takes care of my business says mercedes and with a wink, I lower myself down her body, dragging the blanket with me until I can see up my shirt that she's wearing, she's naked underneath and that makes it easier for me, the second I dive into her she's curling her fingers into my hair and cursing my name, thank God for soundproof walls

*******

Once I finish her off in bed, I do it all again in the shower and afterwards we get dressed with stupid grins on our faces and scatter kisses between us "damn baby, you look good in everything as I tell her, stepping behind her in the mirror and kissing her neck and she makes eyes with me through the mirror "says you" and she's right, we a secy ass couple and by the time we get downstairs, everyone is sitting around the table eating and they all look over at us and Megan asks "what took yall so long says Megan and before me and ari could answer, court says "they were fucking knowing ari, she probably acted like she was still asleep so mercedes could give her some morning sex says Courtney

My jaw drops and ari smirks at everyone like "yea I just got some" and they all laugh and it doesn't take us long to finish breakfast after which we head to the barbershop so I could get my hair done, the girl who does it is super nice and doesn't stop complimenting my hair as she works and once she finishes with my haircut and dying my tips dirty blonde, I pay her and turn to my friends to ask "so what yall think says mercedes and the girls are giving me eyes(you know which eyes I'm talking about) as they bite their lips and Anthony groans "goddamn best friend, you Making me look bad says Anthony and I laugh and say "well we already here, go get lined up, make them waves pop boy says mercedes

"True true as he nods and stands "don't leave me hoe says Anthony when he slaps the back of my neck I know it's payback for earlier and I take his seat between Ariana and Courtney, brushing my fingers over my fade,I get ready to pull my hat back on but Ariana reaches over and takes it "nooo Don't cover it, I like it says Ariana as her bottom lip sticks out as she takes the hat from me and smiling at her adorable face, I lean over and kiss her lips quickly "ight ight, no hat, I got you says mercedes and 20 minutes later we finally leave the barbershop and go to the mall not too far away and all the girls go one direction and me and Anthony go in another

We got to a store we usually shop from and start lookin around, we end up with a couple outfits that we go back to try on ,can't be buyin clothes I don't feel good in, I look good in everything so that's not a problem "yo as Anthony calls from the stall beside me "you know what would be lit says Anthony and mercedes hums "we make a music video for feelings and shoot it at the playboy mansion, go all out, like make it a 70s party says Anthony and I smack my lips and laugh "bruh why was I thinkin the same thing though says mercedes and as we finish shopping we keep playing around with the idea then head towards the food court ,texting the girls to meet us there only for them to tell us to come to Victoria secret real quick first

Exchanging smirks ,we race through the mall, no doubt being looked at like idiots and slide into the store and we smile politely at the workers as we weave through the racks and shelves to the back and we sit down by the dressing room trying not to bounce in our spots and get more than giddy when the girls start modeling the lingerie for us, we try not to look at Megan and cardi too long, don't want to start nothin with the girls and after they decide what they want and don't want, they head to the cash register, feeling more than generous, I pay for all their stuff and we head out, taking their bags for them, Megan and cardi watch the both of us as we walk

Megan says "damn yall got any friends that are just like yall, I need a mercedes in my life as she winks at me as cardi agrees with her and we all laugh and I say "aww thanks guys but no, if I find anyone ill most def let yall know says mercedes and they stop in a few more stores and give us even more heartattack scares as they keep modeling their outfits for us, I mean damn I can only see so much fineness in one day and once they're done we finally get to the food court and we order our food and I legit groan as u fall into my seat and start eating and the girls roll their eyes as Anthony does the same thing, telling us we can't hang with them while they shop, they trippin though, they went into like fifty stores and I'm lifting bags twice the weight of what I bench press

As we eat we start talking about what kind of tattoos we plan to get and cardi tells us "we should get a group tattoo says cardi and I'm quick to agree saying "fuck yeah, like me, Ariana, court and ant get matchin ones then the three of us as I point to her ,myself and meg "and then a tattoo as a group says mercedes and once everyone has agreed to that, we think of what to get and some good ideas come out and we settle which ones aer the best as we make our way to the tattoo shop and tell the workers what we want and they inform us how much it's going to cost and that it's going to take a couple hours, with nothing else to do today, we decide to get it all done before they get us in our chairs and start

We decided to get the group tattoos first, since my tattoo for mama dee will take the longest and as a group, me, ari, Courtney and Anthony get a lilo and stich tattoo since we all love Disney, the tattoo has the word ohana with stich sitting on it and we decide to get it on our upper arms and then me and ari get a Harry Potter based couples tattoo and after having watched all 8 movies with her a number of times I've started to love it, though not as much as her and it takes a minute for us to decide to get exactly but we end up going with a simple 'always' tattoo on, mine being on my neck and hers being on her wrist

Anthony and I of course decide to get superman and batman tattoos, we were going to do batman and Robin but ain't neither of us a sidekick, we're equals and bosses in our own respects so we went with matching superman and batman puzzle pieces on our shoulders then he gets an Aladdin tattoo with court and of course me, cardi and Megan got our tattoos which were music controls with the title of our song on top: steal her man on the inside of our wrists and lastly I got a pretty detailed half sleeve for mama dee, a dove, a clock and a rose, all things that would forever remind me of who she was and that she ran out of time too soon

After being in and out of tattoo chairs for hours, everyone is done and we get the plastic wraps and grab our ointments before we leave and while walking out we talk to each other about how cool our tattoos are and Ariana cones over and wraps her arms around mine "baby, these tattoos look good on you says Ariana and I smirk "I mean, I been meanin to get some tats for a while, especially the one for mama dee but either way, I'm glad you like em says mercedes and Ariana nods, then leans up and I meet her halfway in a soft kiss, both of us smiling into it before pulling away "alright everybody as I say outside the shop "we got a couple hours to chill until later, then we turn up says mercedes and they all cheer before we get into our cars and leave

Chapter 31 title: clubbing and new friends

Arianas point of view

We all made it back to mercedes and Anthony's condo and decided to just chill downstairs for a little while since it was still early and everyone spreads out around the couches in the living room and Anthony puts on some music while mercedes goes to grab drinks so we can "pre-game" as they said and she walks back in with her hands and arms full of bottles and glasses and Megan speaks over the music, eyes trained on mercedes arms as she sets everything down "so we just gon ignore the fact that mercedes looks daddy as fuck with this haircut and all these tattoos on her says Megan and me and cardi agree with her and mercedes runs a hand through her hair causing us to bite our lips and check her out more

Like there is no reason for a person to look this good ,I don't understand and Courtney interuppts us and says "I gotta hand it to you mercedes, you look good, are you trying to kill your fans says Courtney and mercedes laughs licking her lips and says "no, I'm not trying to kill anyone just trying to keep up with yall cause yall be looking like you just came out a photoshoot while I'm ova here looking like a potato says mercedes and we all aww her and I say "baby, you never look like a potato what are you talking about, you always look amazing, WE have to try and keep up with you says Ariana and everyone agrees with me and cardi saying "oooo mercedes you should let them hear some of the songs you worked on this morning says cardi and we all agree and we head to the studio

Once we're in the room mercedes says "Bae pick a song says mercedes and so I take a seat on her Lap ,eyes scanning the song files on her laptop and finally I point to one and say "let's listen to what's your fantasy says Ariana and laughing, mercedes nods and presses play, her voice hits my ears and a shiver runs down my spine and she looks daddy as fuck and her voice matches

Mercedes: yea ,yea, yea ,yea , give it to me now, give it to me now, give it to me now, give it to me now

Cardi: yea, yea, yea, yea, give it to me now, give it to me now, give it to me now, give it to me now

Mercedes: I wanna li, li, li, lick you from yo head to yo toes and I wanna move from the bed down to the, down to the flo then I wanna ahh ahh- you make it so good I don't wanna leave but I gotta know kn-kn-kn-know, what-whats your fan-ta-ta-sy

Cardi: I wanna li, li, li, lick you from yo head to yo toes and I wanna move from the bed down to the, down to the flo then I wanna ahh ahh- you make it so good I don't wanna leave but I gotta know kn-kn-kn-know, what-whats your fan-ta-ta-sy

After cardis part finishes, mercedes verse comes and it instantly starts to make me feel some type of way

Mercedes: I wanna get you on the Georgia down to the fifty yard line, while the dirty birds kick for the t-ree and if you like in the club we can do it, in the dj booth or the back of the v.i.p ,whipped cream with cherries and strawberry on top, lick it don't stop , keep the door locked don't knock while the boat rocks, we go-bots and robots so they have to wait till the show stop

As I listen I wonder if this is as fast as she can rap but she's always surprising me so I just figure that she can go faster

Or how bout the back with black sand, lick up your thigh and call me the pac man ,table top or just me a lap dance, the rock to the park to the point to the flatlands, that girl named mercedes (whoo) in the public bathroom or the back of a classroom, however you want it lover lover, gonna tap that ass soon ,see I cast em and I pass em, get a tight grip and I grasp em, I flash em and outlast em and if it ain't good then I trash em, while you stash em I'll let em free and they tell me what they fantasy like up on the roof roof, tell yo boyfriend not to be mad at me

When the chorus comes around again, I'm looking back at Courtney and playfully fanning myself and she laughs with an eyebrow wiggle and then I turn back and focus again when mercedes next verse comes

Mercedes: I wanna get you in the bathtub with the candles lit you give it up till they go out or we can do it on the stage of mercedes concert, cause you know it got sold out or red carpet sex can just roll out

I'm so here for every lost one of those scenarios and none of this is helped by the fact that mercedes fingers keep Brushing my thigh like I need her to stop before something goes down right here in front of everyone and i shift in her lap and grab said hand, lacing my fingers with it to stop her

Go ahead and scream you can't hold out ,we can do it in the pouring rain, runnin thr train when its hot or cold out, how bout in the library on top of books but you can't be to loud, you wanna make sister beg for it, give me tlc cause you know I be to proud. We can do it in the white house, trynna make them turn the lights off, campaign with my campaign let me do the damn thing ,what's my name, what's my name, what's my name, a sauna, jacuzzi, in the back of the movies, you can scratch my back and rule me, you can push me or pull me, on hay in the middle of the barn(woo) rose petals in the silk sheets uh, eating fresh fruits sweep yo girl right off her feet

Mercedes: I wanna get you in the backseat, windows up, that's the way you like to fuck, clogged up fog alert, rip the pants and rip the shirt, rough sex make it hurt, in the garden all in the dirt, roll around Georgia brown that's the way I like it twerk, legs jurk, overwork, underpaid but don't be afraid, in the sun or up in the shade ,on the top of my escalade, maybe your girl and my friend can trade, tag team, off the ropes, on the ocean or in the boat, factories or on hundred spokes, what about up in the candy sto ,that chocolate chocolate make it melt, whips and chains, handcuffs, spack a little booty with my belt, scream help play my game, Dracula let me get my fangs, horseback and I'll get my reigns, school teacher let me get my grades

The chorus plays two more times before the song plays out and all eyes fall on mercedes including mine and I take a deep breath and say "um what the fuck, why didn't you ask me to do the song with you says Ariana and mercedes shrugs "you was asleep and she was here so yeah but we can def re-record it so you can do it instead of cardi if you want says mercedes and nodding meg agrees "yeah we could do that then it could be you, me, cardi and Ariana on the remix then you release both songs says Megan and mercedes looks at meg wide eyed and says "meg you're a fucking genius, since I got so many songs, I can make a deluxe album and drop the remix on that says mercedes

We spend the next half and a half re-recording the song and then Megan and cardi head out to get dressed for tonight and we all head upstairs to get dressed as well and the whole time I'm getting more and more excited, I can't wait

Mercedes point of view

Once I'm up in my room I start looking for my outfit for tonight and I glance at Ariana and ask "Bae, you talk to your other friends says mercedes "yeah baby says Ariana as she nods "they're gonna meet us at the restaurant says Ariana "bet, I can finally meet them, been wantin to for a minute now says mercedes and a cute little pout sits on Arianas lips "that is so sweet of you baby, you have no idea how much this means to me and them of course, like you actually want to meet them, that means the world to me says Ariana "of course my love as I smile "they mean a lot to you so that means they mean a lot to me too since this is a forever thing right says mercedes "forever and always baby says Ariana

We meet in the middle of the walk-in Closet and share a kiss then finish looking for our clothes and after laying our outfits on the bed, we go take a shower and I legitimately try my best to keep my hands to myself but Ariana is just too gorgeous not to touch at every given moment so our shower ends up being more dirty than clean and I dry off and leave the bathroom, I'm taking the towel off my body when I feel arms around my waist and little kisses being pressed to my neck and shoulders and turning around to ari, I say "babe, we gotta get dressed, I just gave you some in the shower was that not enough says mercedes and Ariana pouts and says "baby you can't expect me not to do anything when you look this sexy, with this haircut and your tattoos as her words trail off as she kisses my collarbone again

"I know Bae I know but we for real need to get dressed, we gon have plenty of time later to have fun ,play your cards right and I might give you some while we out says mercedes and huffing she turns away "fine but I maje no promises so don't be surprised if I'm all over you all night says Ariana "I expect nothing less says mercedes and after we get dressed we stand in front of the mirror and Ariana takes pictures cause as usual we look hot and Courtney and Anthony finish up shortly after and we leave out, everyone agreeing to meet up outside the restaurant where we greet each other and Ariana excitedly loops her arm through mine and pulls me to her group of friends

"Mercedes, baby, you already know Frankie and Victoria so scooch and mooch says Ariana as she waves her brother and friend away and I wink at him and give Victoria a hug before looking back at ari who begins to gesture to her friends I recognize from her social media and from their own careers "this is Tommy, Doug, kiyan and the twins Scott and Brian, guys and gals, this is my baby mercedes says Ariana and I smile at them and hold my hand out to Doug first "it's nice to finally meet yall says mercedes "so you're the famous mercedes she won't shut up about says kiyan, eyes rolling over my body and a nervous chuckle falls from my lips "I mean I guess, how often is she talking about me says mercedes

Victoria rolls her eyes, hand resting on my shoulder "girl, all the damn time, every phone call and studio session is mercedes this and mercedes that like marry her already says Victoria "we'll see as I look over at Ariana who's eyes explode with love as she looks at me and I go down the rest of the line of her friends, hugging and bro hugging each of them, Scott and Brian are both quick to tell me that they want to work with me on literally anything and that they've seen every Video there is of my dancing and Tommy tells me he'd be honored to work on some tracks with me anytime and everyone agrees,complimenting me on my new look just like before, cardi and Megan steady making suggestive comments but it never fails to make us all laugh and soon after we all head inside to dinner

Everything was going great, my nerves settle throughout dinner when I start to click with Ariana and Courtney's friends, more than once I catch Victoria whispering about me with Ariana and I get a little cocky when u see the blush and smile on her face and me and Tommy spend majority of our conversation talking about music and once dinner is done we opt out of dessert since we're going to the club, Mr and Anthony split the bill, Ariana and Courtney protesting it since I paid for their stuff at the mall earlier and we don't leave until I promise to let Ariana treat me the next time we go out and we make it to the club and it's filled with celebrities: Chris brown, Justin Bieber, g-eazy, Bruno Mars, normani and dinah Jane and etc

The whole group immediately picks up on the vibe and gets hype, moving to the vip section we had held before we go there I place my hand on aris back and lean down to her ear "Bae I'll be right back, I'm gonna go talk to a few people real quick, get me a beer please says mercedes and Ariana nods "of course babe, kiss says Ariana and with a smile I press a quick kiss to her lips and walk away, I head straight to the bar and tap the familiar girl on the shoulder before ducking out of her line of sight then smiling when she looks at me "mercedes as she exclaims throwing her arms around my neck in a hug and I wrap my arms around her as well "wassup Mani, how you been as I pull away

"Girl I been good, you know Rihanna wants me to model some savage for her says normani as she excitedly tells me "also as she reaches beside her and pulls dinah Jane towards us "mercedes this is dinah Jane, dinah Jane this is mercedes says normani and head nodding, I smile and hold my hand out to her "wassup dinah, Mani's told me a lot about you says mercedes "same says dinah as she shakes my hand "apparently you give good advice says dinah and glancing at normani, I laugh a little "nah she just took her own advice but I'm glad yall look good and happy says mercedes "you too, I see you and ari on socials all cute and boo'd up says normani as she replies

I shrug "yeah, it took a minute but that's my baby so we figured it out says mercedes and we talk for a few more minutes before I decide to go network a little, I scan the club for other celebrities, my eyes catching a few, Justin being the first one I approach and I yap his shoulder and he turns to me, eyebrows raising knowingly "hey, you're that new artist mercedes right says Bieber "wow I'm suprised you even know I exist but yeah its awesome to meet you man, I'm a huge fan says mercedes and he waves me off "awe thanks man I appreciate the support, I'm a huge fan of yours as well, I've been meaning to get in contact with scooter about collabing with you says Bieber "wait really, that's awesome bro I have this song I wrote, it'd be perfect for you if you're interested says mercedes

"That's dope man of course I'm interested, what's it about says Bieber and I explain the song and he immediately agrees to do the song and tells me about his upcoming album, we exchange numbers and make plans to hit the studio and he asks about caedi and I raise my eyebrow and ask "you're into cardi, I mean isn't she a little wild for you, I thought you would go for someone like Selena, Hailey even says mercedes "well yeah as he shrugs "she's a little out there but that's what I like about her says Bieber and I chuckle "thought you was trying to get right with God and everything y'know ,thought you would want someone who could support you through like a nice Christian woman or something says Mercedes

Bieber nods with a shrug "well I am but you never know for the right guy she could change and adapt to that lifestyle, I mean look at Ciara says Bieber, good point "true I guess I'll put in a good word for you bro but I'll talk to you later says mercedes "ight thanks mercedes 'preciate ya says Bieber and I head over to g-eazy who looks up at me as I get closer "hey mercedes right says G and my eyes widen at the fact that g-eazy knows who I am "oh my- yes you actually know my name that's crazy says mercedes and he laughs at my excitement so I compose myself "uh yeah its nice to meet you G, I'm a huge fan if you didn't already peep that says mercedes

"No pleasures all mine, I'm a huge fan too, yo shit rocks and thanks for the support, I've been wanting to get in the studio with you, I feel like we could make some fire together says g dapping me up and I nod along slightly in shock "hell yeah, I'm down just say when says mercedes and after exchanging numbers and making plans to hit the studio, he asks about Megan and I smirk at him and glancing over at our section, I look back and say "I mean I could hook it up, she was just asking me if I got any friends I could hook her up with says mercedes "wait for real, you can hook that up says G and I nod "hell yeah, but first ima have to teach you some of my game, she ain't bout that fuck boy shit, she want a gentleman you know says mercedes

He raises his eyebrow "like you as he chuckles "I figured, everybody see all that sweet shit you be doin for Ariana on Twitter and the gram ,I was gon ask for some pointers anyway so I'm down says G "ight bet I'll hook you up says mercedes and lastly I go over to Bruno, the group of girls around him is a lot bigger than the one trying to get in Biebers section and the one in Gs section and apparently some of them recognize me cause they start rubbing my arms and flirting as I move through to Bruno and the man is already smiling at me when I get close enough "ah just the girl I wanted to see, it'd great to finally meet you mercedes, I'm a huge fan of course says Bruno. Alright, first jb then g, now Bruno, I didn't know I was this known man

I manage to not start fanning out and just smile and say "awe thanks the sane to you, i stay vibin wit your music says mercedes and he thanks me and says "good cause I was hoping we could collab ,your vibe plus mine would be dope as ever man and mid sentence he turns to write something down "here's my number we should definitely get in the studio soon says Bruno and we talk a little more about possible songs and vibes and before I leave he mentions cardi and I smirk and say "just so happens she was asking me if I have any friends I could hook her up with, I can put in a word for you if that's what you want says mercedes and he nods almost frantically "that would be amazing mercedes thanks says Bruno

"Of course man no problem, we'll talk more later, I gotta get back to my girl you know says mercedes and giving me a quick bro hug "I feel you, don't forget to hit my line says Bruno and weaving through the large crowd of bodies, I make it back to my section and fall onto the couch beside Ariana and she's quick to throw her legs over mine, handing me my beer and combing her fingers through my hair and after sipping my drink, I turn to cardi and Megan "yall remember that question you asked me at the mall says mercedes and it takes zero seconds for Ariana and Courtney to catch on, they gasp and Ariana slaps my arm excitedly

Megan and cardi eventually get it and look at each other wide eyed and turn back to me "you didn't " and brushing imaginary dust off my shoulders, I act a little cocky "I did, we have three different prospects if my instincts are right then technically four says mercedes and Ariana is the first to ask "who says Ariana as court, Megan and cardi all asking after Ariana "well for team cardi we have both of the homies Bruno and jb and for team meg we have g-eazy and possibly Michael b Jordan, dude has been eyeing our section since we got in here says mercedes and cardi leans back and crosses her legs "I like me a bit of jb but I need a man man, you know so I'm all about Bruno says cardi

Megan says "it's G for me, don't get me wrong Michael is fine but G, I feel like he knows how to handle all a this as her hand gestures all over her body and nodding I say "well you know what to do ladies, here they numbers as I send them the guys numbers and we continue to party in our section until midnight when the dj announces our song and plays it and scooter approved the early release of it as a teaser to my album and the group gets excited and heads to the dance floor and a crowd circles around our group, most likely expecting us to dance since that's kind of been my thing at all parties and I turn and smirk at Megan and cardi "yall wanna learn the dance for the song says mercedes

They nod and say "hell yeah, let's do it" and I use my hands to motion for everyone to give us some space before standing in the center of the floor with cardi and Megan and after telling them to follow my lead, I start dancing and Samia had come up with the dance literally seconds before the video was taken and I saw a bunch of my fans posting "steal her man challenge" videos so I do the dance they and Samia created. Me, cardi and Megan add our own flare to it like them catching me when I fall back on the 'don't fall asleep' part and them twerking while I grind on the pop it part and once they get the dance down, other people start pickin up on it until everyone has joined in

In the midst of the dance, Meg turns to me and asks "wait i totally forgot to ask when i saw your sister's tweet but what was she talking about when she said your second masterpiece says Megan and I groan, leaning my forehead on aris shoulder before standing up straight and saying "I'll explain it later says mercedes and with a nod, she let's us know she's going to find g-eazy and I look off to see cardi already dancing with Bruno and the rest of the night is filled with more laughing, drinking and dancing, we post a bunch of videos on social media and I even go live to interact with my fans who are curious about the songs and said live Is cut off though when Ariana slides her hands into the hem of my pants and whispers that she can't wait any longer in my ear

"Ight ima catch yall later, keep listenin to my stuff, thanks fa the support as I end the live and wrap my arms around Arianas waist as I direct her towards the bathroom and my group smirking at us knowingly as we do, they already know what's goin down

*smut*

We weave through the crowd, Ariana almost completely disregarding the people who smile and wave, I think aside from being worked up from earlier, she's overly eager because she knows I'm packing and good thing about the bathrooms conjoined with the vip section is that it's usually pretty empty and luckily for us no one is in here when we get in and Ariana locks the door and her lips are on mine seconds later, her hands trail up my arms, fingers conforming to the muscles "someone's eager as I tease pressing kisses to her neck and collarbone and her head tilts back to give me more access to her neck and I mark evey inch of skin she displays to me

"You have no idea what your new look is doing to me says Ariana as she breathes out, hands moving to the waist of my pants "like you were sexy before but now- says Ariana and I feel my body start to heat up at the way she's eyeing me and I'm quick to lift her up and move us to the sink ,setting her down on the countertop and pulling her thong down and feeling it tear a little "mercedes as Ariana whines and I smile apologetically "that was one of my favorites says Ariana as she pouts and kissing it away, i tell her "I'll buy you more, don't worry says mercedes and the thought leaving her mind when I slide my hand up her dress and I brush my fingers over her heat and feel every drop of her arousal "damn, did you just get this wet says mercedes

"Yes and it's all for you baby says Ariana and my hands grip her hips and I pull her to the edge of the sink ,quickly freeing the strap from my pants and running it through her folds and clearly not caring that I skipped foreplay, Ariana moans ,throwing her head back and whispering a please, God I love when she begs and easing into her, I wait a second for her to adjust before moving, quiet little whimpers leave her lips as I grind into her but she soon starts to moan louder, breathing harshly as she says "harder daddy please says Ariana and her words make me still, purely because I have to process the sound of that word leaving her mouth, she says it all innocently like we're not fucking right now

She taps into a kink I didn't even know I had, hearing her call me daddy makes me heat up even more and I set out on a mission to hear it again and her body bounces every time our hips connect, my thrusts harder and faster, her arousal coats not only her own thighs but I feel it on me too "fuck just like that says Ariana as she clenches the fingers of one hand into my shirt and the other tangles in my curls abd I lean down abd kiss her neck, marking her even more as I continue to pound into her "you gonna cum for me baby girl as I ask into her neck abd she's nodding rapidly, subconsciously moving closer which makes the strap move closer which makes the strap sink deeper into her, she literally freezes as it hits that perfect spot inside her and her legs wrap around my waist as she comes

Just as she's calmed down, I start moving again not changing pace at all ,I simply add the pressure of my thumb against her clit and her head is thrown back and I see her face in the mirror, she looks beyond sexy and it's motivation enough to make her cum again and the high note that leaves her lips as she does it definitely heard by anybody who happens to be outside the bathroom and it feels me with pride abd I leave it at two for now and after waiting for her to calm down, I pull out and go to grab napkins and tissues to clean her up and the strap abd the second I have her all cleaned up ,she pulls me into a kiss and pushes her hand down my pants, her fingers slips behind the strap and slide into me with ease and of course I was this wet

"You didn't think I was going to return the favor right says Ariana as she asks, lips pressing to the dangerous woman tattoo behind my ear "after fucking me that good you deserve a reward daddy says Ariana "fuck as I groan, my head falling back as she curls her fingers and having already been so worked up, she brings me to the edge and over it in minutes and I take shallow breaths to calm myself before kissing her dazedly

**smut ends**

"Thank you as I kiss her again abd she smiles and tells me anytime and I then have to clean myself up before adjusting my clothes and the strap "ready as I ask her and nodding, she eases off the sink and the second her feet hit the floor her legs wobble, a light blush is on her cheeks and I raise an eyebrow at her "that good huh says mercedes and Ariana rolls her eyes at my cocky reply then she levels me with a look "can you just help me please says Ariana "of course princess says mercedes and I go back over abd squat in front of her and she climbs onto my back "thank you babu says Ariana as she smiles and kisses my cheek

Luckily no one says anything about the girl being on my back until we get to our section where our group looks at us with wide eyes and smirks and these fools literally start cheering and I thank God the music is so loud so the people in the club can't hear our friends shouting about me puttin in work or tearin that shit up "yall crazy man as I laugh and shake my head and Arianas response to it is a little different, she just leans over and starts talking about it with Courtney and Victoria and u just know this finna be an even longer night

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21witnokidz · 1 year

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IN THE GHETTO

Chapter 17

Some years go by

“Arthur where are you taking me!?”

“Shh just wait”

Arthur laughed as he ran up the hill.

“Ok close your eyes”

He put the necklace in her hands she opened her eyes.

“Happy birthday Mary”

“Oh thank you Arthur”

They hugged and she kissed him on the cheek.

“I have to go now. My father expects me to be home soon. Will I see you tomorrow?”

“Of course. Goodbye Mary”

They kissed one last time and went their separate ways.

Back at camp

You and Arthur have been officially broken up for some time and it’s been hard ever since. You tried to occupy yourself with doing jobs and tasks around the camp but you just couldn’t keep your mind off Arthur.

He seemed to be doing just fine without you though.

“And then I took her up the hill and gave her the necklace. She even gave me a kiss on the cheek” Arthur was drunk and bragging about what just happened between him and his new woman. Charles didn’t seem to care though and just kept mindlessly nodding his head trying to focus on making his arrow.

You tried to tune him out but all you could hear was “Mary this. Mary that. Mary Linton is so wonderful. We went on a date the other day. She’s so sophisticated. Blah blah blah”

Meanwhile John was trying to cuss out Javier

“I told you to stop talking to her! She doesn’t like you!”

“Ay amigo don’t you understand Abagail doesn’t belong to anybody. Jus because she gave you a good time last night doesn’t mean you two are together”

Abagail was the new girl and everyone liked her immediately. A little too much. She liked to lay with anyone who would give her the chance and just yesterday John got to have his go at it and now he becomes jealous whenever someone tries to flirt with her.

“Can everyone just calm down! We just had a successful train robbery yesterday and it’s time we celebrate!” Dutch announced. “Bring out the beer! Bring out the music! Everyone be marry!”

Maybe a nice party is what you needed. Some nice liquor should get you out of your feelings.

Soon everyone was drunk. Especially you who was now on your eleventh bottle.

“Y/n don’t you think that’s a bit much?” Charles asked.

“Oh shut up I’ve been drinking since you were just a baby”

On the other side of camp John was bothering Abigail again.

“Come one please. This is a day of celebration. So let’s go celebrate!”

“Leave me alone John! I told you until you learn how to pull out we’re not doing that again. And stop telling people to leave me alone. I don’t belong to you”

Bill was playing Miss Grimshaw in a game of knife cutters.

“You think you can beat me just because I’m a sophisticated woman? Think again boy”

“Yea you lost me at sophisticated, girly”

Javier was singing some song in Spanish.

Dutch and Hosea was laughing and talking about the old times.

“And remember when John and Arthur broke the damn table wrestling?”

“That’s right! Bessie made them do laundry for an entire week after that!”

Uncle was yelling at Pearson for some reason.

“This is the last damn time imma tell you. Stop putting so much vegetables in the soup!”

“You need them to stay healthy old man! Although I think you’re far too gone for that..”

All the while Arthur was still talking about Mary Linton. Even when Charles tried to walk away to find something else to do then listen to him, Arthur would get up and follow him.

“Did you know Mary is a Pisces? Do you know about astrology Charles? Hey Charles did you know Mary has a house with 6 rooms in it! Charles!”

He just wouldn’t shut up.

“Did you know Mary has a birthmark on her butt?”

That’s it.

“Who wants to see me fight a snake!?” You stood up and yelled.

The whole camp went silent and stared at you. Javier even stopped playing his guitar.

“FUCK YEA!” Javier screamed.

Everybody got up and followed you into the woods. What the hell were you thinking? You can’t fight a snake. But everyone was expecting you to and you’re not one to chicken out.

“I think I feel a bug crawling up my ass” Uncle announced.

“Deal with it” John muttered.

“But I already have a rash there and I think I have diarrhea too. The doctor told me to take some pills but I stopped because they make my stomach feel weird”

“Uncle just shut up. You’re ruining everyone’s night”

Finally you found a rattlesnake somehow in the dark. Everyone backed up and circled around you to see you fight it.

You gulped and tried to shake away your nerves.

“Fuck it”

You picked up the snake by it’s tail and held it up.

“Hell yea! Y/n’s a badass!”

Everyone started clapping and cheering. All until the snake went and bit you right on the neck.

“AAAH. SOMEONE GET THIS SNAKE OFF ME!!”

You started running around with your hands in the air not able to think straight because of the pain and also the alcohol.

You accidentally bumped into Arthur which caused him to bump into Bill.

“You lookin for a fight boy?” Bill said angry.

“Actually yea I’ve been looking to fight you for a while. Do you remember the time you ate my meat? I should’ve fucked you up for that but I let you walk away for some reason. I’m gonna fix that today” Arthur threw a punch at Bill and they got to fighting.

Javier and Abigail were placing bets on who would win.

Pearson went into hiding along with Miss Grimshaw.

John thought Arthur and Bill were play fighting so he joined in and just started swinging.

Uncle was passed out in his own throw up.

Hosea was trying to chase you around to get the snake off.

While everything was going on Dutch just stood there admiring everything. Admiring the chaos. If you told him thirty years ago that he’d be the leader of all these fools. He would’ve laughed in your face.

“Dutch do something!” Miss Grimshaw yelled.

“Oh! Right!” Dutch walked towards the fight and put his hands up “ok that’s enough come on” he tried to break it up but got knocked out cold by Arthur.

Soon you stopped running around and passed out from exhaustion. Or poison you had no idea.

“I’ve had enough of this” Charles. The only one who wasn’t under the influence of alcohol walked over to you and got the snake off of your neck.

He got down and put his mouth on your neck to suck the poison out.

He sucked and spit it out.

All the while everyone was watching this go down.

He then pulled out a canteen full of whiskey and washed his mouth out along with washing your wound to clean it.

You woke up and looked around you only to figure out that it was Charles who saved you.

You pulled his face towards you and kissed him.

#arthur morgan x reader #rdr2 x reader #red dead redemption x reader #arthur morgan #yeehaw

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kiwi-claire · 2 years

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KIWI | Harry’s Version Part 2

link to part one

March 13, 2016

I wake up in the morning to the sound of the front door closing and an empty bed. It takes me a moment to realize what's going on as I recall the events of last night. She left, damn it. I have to say after we had a conversation about our favorite breakfast foods last night I was actually excited to cook for her this morning. I sit up in the bed and groan as I shake from my sleepy drowse. I notice her clothes are still strewn about the room. She must've kept mine when she left, not that I mind.

I internally curse myself for not asking her surname. Maybe I could convince the club to let me look over their guest list? No that's too stalkerish.

Maybe if I go back tonight, she'll have the same idea and be there too? Surely she didn't want to leave so early. Maybe she just had somewhere to be...at...7:15 in the morning. Work perhaps? She did recognize my voice quite easily, maybe she had radio interviews or something to do?

Yeah that's optimistic and I know it. I just hope she left on good terms and doesn't regret it. That would make me feel like a right dick- especially since I enjoyed it so much.

I'm very grateful to have booked the studio to myself this morning to be able to maybe create something on my own. I'm not the best songwriter when it comes to writing without other people. It's hard for me to organize my thoughts and make them cohesive. I'm usually always working with other people because of that. I find it easier when there's someone I can bounce ideas off of. However, I do find it quite nice to take a moment to myself and write things out alone. Some of my songs are for me , not for the world.

I begrudgingly throw my legs over the side of the bed and force myself to get up. I'm typically a morning person, but Sienna's disappearance caught me off guard and left me in a bad mood.

I trudge into the kitchen and start the coffee pot. I put a couple slices of whole wheat bread in the toaster while I heat up a frying pan. I crack two eggs into the pan and tap the salt and pepper shakers over them as they cook.

The fruit bowl is nearly empty and I let out a huff as I grab the last avocado. I make a mental note to text my assistant to please pick up some more for me.

I carefully slice the green fruit and place it over the bread I had buttered, shuffling the over easy eggs on top of said toast. I finish it off with a dash of bagel seasoning - the most LA/American thing I've ever done.

I eat in uncomfortable silence, still processing the fact that she left. Have I always overthought this much? I don’t think I’ve been this infatuated with a girl since secondary school.

Maybe a run around the town will help me clear my thoughts? I finish up my breakfast and put my dishes in the sink after rinsing them. I head back into the bedroom to put on an old t shirt and some running shorts. I pair that with Nikes and a pair of sunglasses to help conceal my identity better, even though I’m only planning to run through my own closed off gated community. Lastly, I put my hair up into a bun to keep it out of the way.

I lock up the house and take off down the street. I run my usual route, trying to think of anything but her but it works to no avail. It seems I may have developed a little crush, not that I’d ever admit that to anyone but myself.

I run for probably close to an hour before I turn and head back towards home. I can’t forget I promised my mum I’d call her today. If I wait too long, it’ll be too late over there on the other side of the globe. I also need to send my sister a book recommendation she was looking for.

I make it back to the iron gate and let myself back in, hearing it automatically lock behind me and walk up the driveway, but not before I notice my acoustic guitar is still sitting in the backseat from the studio session I had yesterday. I don’t go back into the studio until Monday, but might as well write something before tomorrow that we can work on for the album. Or maybe not, maybe I’ll just keep it to myself. Therapy or whatnot.

I grab the guitar from the car and let myself back into the house to fill myself a glass of water before I take both to the back patio to do whatever it is I’m about to do.

I place my glass on the table next to me and get settle the guitar in my lap. I strum a quiet tune, not completely confident in the instrument in my hands. I’ve only started learning just recently in the past few years and the chord progression that’s been stuck in my head is particularly advanced.

I play it a few times before I’m comfortable enough to start singing along. I lick my lips before I start,

“You said ‘I wanna get to know ya’, Why you gotta get my hopes up? You said that you were staying over, but then I woke up to the cold air.” I sing softly. As soon as I started, I immediately knew I will never release this, not in a billion years. It’s not my vibe, but maybe it’s good to get it off my chest.

I continue, higher this time, “How could you make me believe, that there was something in between you and me, yeah? I look around and I don’t see you…

Where were you in the morning baby?”

I start to slap the guitar between each strum, creating a clapping sound, “You didn’t leave your number for me. Left me without a warning, baby. How do you, how do you just walk away? How do you, how do you just walk away?”

March 14, 2016

I show up for my second studio session of the week early, as usual. I had a productive morning, got up early, went for a run, and grabbed myself a green smoothie on the way here. I'm ready to write music.

"Good morning." I greeted Tyler and Jeff in the lobby. "The studio occupied?"

Tyler checks his watch, "Only until the hour. They've got three minutes to wrap up in there."

Jeff rolls his eyes, "It's Rowland in there, and she can be a bitch about studio time. I vote Styles has to go kick her out if she goes over."

"She's nice. What've you got against her?" Tyler laughs.

"She's fuckin' scary." Jeff admits and Tyler and I laugh.

"I'll go in there." I volunteer, "I'm sure she's just lost track of time."

In reality, I just want to meet her. Put a name to the face. Rowland is one of my favorite writers, it would be a dream to work with her in person.

She wrote for the band multiple times. She was actually the collaborator I was telling Sienna about the other night. We never met in person, but the writing process was one of my favorite experiences in the studio.

I'm about to knock on the door when I see the light near the door flicker on. They're recording. So instead of interrupting, I crack open the door to listen in. Like I said, her process has always fascinated me.

I first make eye contact with the guy behind the panel and he gives me a nod of acknowledgment before signaling for me to keep quiet.

Then my eyes meet her. Her back is facing me and I can see her long, brown, tangled hair. It looked like she'd rolled out of bed to get here, and somehow I found it admirable. Her nails were painted red and she donned bike shorts and a baggy tshirt. She sent the guy a thumbs up to start the track, once she'd adjusted the mic to her liking.

It's when she started to sing, that my eyes widened and I finally put two and two together. Sienna Fucking Rowland. No wonder Fools Gold is her favorite song, Fools Gold is her song.

I stared at her in shock as I listened to her shun her ex through song.

"Fuck that boy I'm over it." She waves her hand in the air. "I hope she gettin' some good sex. Hope she ain't fakin' out like I did, babe."

She has a stunning voice. Even when she's cursing.

"Took four long years to call it quits. Fuck that boy I'm over it." The guy behind the board begins dancing foolishly and I can't help but smile at their laid back energy.

"Guess I should say thank you for the hate yous and the bad news, oh baby, I'm cool by the way. Ain't sure I loved you, anyway. Go head, boy Imma live my life, my life, yeah." Sienna began swaying slightly as well.

"Don't hold back on me Sise." The guy orders over the mic.

She nods before belting the chorus, "Shout out to my ex, you're really quite the man. You made my heart break and that made me who I am. Heres to my ex, hey look at me now. Well I'm all the way up I swear you'll never bring me down. Shout out to my ex, you're really quite the man. You made my heart break and that made me who I am. Here's to my ex, hey look at me now. Well I'm all the way up I swear you'll never, you'll never bring me down."

She pulls off her headphones and even though I can't see her face, I can tell she's grinning. She gives the guy an air high five from inside the booth, and I can't help but applaud her as she exits the booth.

Her head snaps in my direction and I don't miss the look of horror that crosses her face. She tries to subtly move her hair over her neck to cover up the mark I made, but I notice.

I smirk, leaning my body against the doorway and crossing my arms over my chest.

"That was sick. Quite a badass song you've got going there." I compliment her, and I can't help but find the flush of her cheeks endearing.

She didn't budge for a moment, seemingly stuck in place. So I spoke again,

"Y'know, I didn't realize I was in the presence of such a legend the other night. Shoulda asked for an autograph." I joke.

"But I think this'll do for now." I tease as I gesture to the hickey on my neck left by her, hoping to see her blush again.

Her eyebrows shoot up in surprise and her mouth hangs open slightly. Her friend is behind the soundboard frozen in place as he watches our encounter. Perhaps I'm being too bold? I don't fucking know. It's been ages since I liked a girl, let alone been allowed to speak to one without permission.

"I mean, you are the Sienna Rowland, right?" I continue, "You wrote for the band. Fools Gold, Infinity, like a bunch of our songs. I never got to meet you in person during all that time."

I truly am at a loss for words at how we have never crossed paths up until this point.

"I...yeah, I did." She shrugs, looking down at the floor as her face gets redder.

All of a sudden, she begins collecting things in a rush heading for the doorway. I can feel my face falter when I realize she's about to leave.

"Uh, sorry for cutting into your studio time." She apologizes, keeping her head ducked down.

"It's not a problem," I wave off her apology with a smile. What happened to the rumored 'bitch about studio time'? "Song is sick, gonna be a hit I'm sure."

"Um, thank you." She accepts the compliment, despite her flustered state. I'm enjoying this way too much.

"I...excuse me." She mumbles when she starts to head for the door since my body is taking up much of the door frame.

I shifted slightly, letting her through but couldn't help but grab her wrist as she slipped past me. I need to see her again.

"You snuck out on me, didn't get a chance to save your number." I point out, looking into her deep blue eyes.

"Sorry, but what I did the other night was unprofessional and very out of character for me, I hope you can understand." She rushes out with shake of her head.

I felt my heart drop and my mood shift. She thought it was a mistake? I mean, it definitely wasn't the most rational decision of my life but I can't say I regret it all that much.

"Good luck with your session." She offers a sympathetic smile when she notices my shift in demeanor, before turning and walking to the exit.

Her friend/producer...boyfriend...? Whoever he was he started scrambling to follow her like a lost puppy.

"Uh...it's very n-nice to meet you sir. I'm Luke." He stutters out with a short nod my way, before sprinting down the hall after her.

I could see them just beyond the glass doors talking animatedly toward each other. More-so Luke. They seem to be fighting, but I can't really tell...fuck. Are they...together?

I have to shake the thoughts away before I think about it too hard. I don't know anything, I'm probably just reading too far into it.

I jump when I feel Jeff's hard on my shoulder, "That was quick."

I shrug, "Yeah, they were just finishing up." I tell him.

"And did she tell you off for interrupting, or did she make her little boy toy do it for her?" He laughs and I tense.

"Jeff, you know full well that only happened twice. And you were being an ass both those times." Tyler laughs. "She probably swooned at the sight of H."

“Please,” Jeff scoffs. “She’s too busy worshiping the ground that Luke guy walks on to swoon over this guy.”

Fuck. She’s definitely with the guy.

“Alright, well H, got anything less depressing we can write about today.” Jeff asks.

I’ve found the best way to get over something is to write about it. This next one is dedicated to you, Miss Rowland.

—————

Song - Where Were You in the Morning by Shawn Mendes

thank you so so much for reading!! I hope you enjoyed! Let me know what you thought! Be honest!

Love you all!! Thanks for being here

- Claire xx

p.s. don't forget to follow me on insta @kiwi_claire_ for special content 😘

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flamekingmaven · 3 months

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High Infidelity: A Story Inspired By Taylor Swift's Song

Here is the first chapter.

“Slut.” I whisper, both ashamed and furious as I look at the wall.

“Don’t say that word.” Harry frowns.

I almost laugh upon this. I want to burst into laughter until I start to cry. He can’t be serious, right? It says slut with a red paint on the wall at the entrance of our house and the mentioned slut is me. But no, he is dead serious. He is Harold Byron. The only son of the most respected family of Lancaster. His wife must be well-mannered and always suitable for him. I had no objection to that when I was marrying him, and I should not have any now.

Still, I can’t help but complain. “Are you aware that someone broke into our house? Is the only problem here me saying a swearword?”

I know damn well who that someone is, however, I can’t say his name. Even the echo of it inside my mind stings. I didn’t know he was keeping count. It is too much, even for him. Even for the man I loved once. He sees it as a game. He enjoys watching me suffer because I made him suffer once, too.

Harry glances a look at me. “Someone? I think we both know who he is, darling.”

I grind my teeth. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”

He shakes his head. “You don’t have to act like you have no idea about it. I am not mad at you. It’s not your fault.”

At that moment, I can’t do anything but nod. It is like I am completely paralyzed, from head to toe. I can’t move. I can’t say a thing. I can just shake my head. I am in a deep shame, because it is such a scandal. Initially for me, then for Harry and his family. It is just a matter of time for the pressmen to come and take photographs. I know that we will be on the first page of the newspapers tomorrow. The word will be there, bright crimson red. And my face, also probably crimson red from shame. People will know what exactly is wrong when they see Adelaide Byron’s expression – the dear, shy wife of Harry Byron.

“Where are you going?”

I hear Harry’s words as I start to run. But I don’t turn my back to face him. I need to hide. Before the pressmen come. If I am not there, then they will not have a clue. Also, I need to do something. I need to show my teeth at him. This nonsense can’t go on like this. No, I can’t let it.

“Adelaide!”

Adelaide. Not Addie. Not like him. Harry have always called me by my name, and I have never asked him to use a nickname even though I have always called him “Harry”, not “Harold” like the rest of his family.

“I’ll use the bathroom!” I shout.

I hear him sigh. Good. He stops running after me upon my words. I climb up the stairs and pace to our bedroom. I find my phone on the nightstand. I hold it with both of my trembling hands. Because if I don’t, I will definitely drop the device to the ground. I dial the number that I know by heart like it is mine. I tried to forget it many times, but somehow I never could. However, at the moment, I am glad that I did not. I wait, impatiently pulling the end of my morning gown.

Finally, he picks up the phone. I wait for him to say “Hello?”. However, he does not say a word. And I am not able to speak. I take a deep breath. I can do this. I know I can. Because if I don’t show my teeth right now, then he will keep doing such ridiculous things. I don’t know how much of it Harry will tolerate. I will never know. So, it is my only chance.

“Hello?” I almost whisper, in a clearly terrified voice.

The answer comes quickly. “You got my message.”

The tone of his voice reveals that he is smiling right now. I grimace with an sudden nausea. He disgusts me. He is so far from the man he once used to be. He is something more rigid now. Fiercer. Charged with revenge. But so am I.

“The police are here. I gave them your name.” I lie. I don’t even know if Harry called the police yet. I am just trying to scare him, even though I know damn well that he will not be afraid by the thought of getting arrested.

“Excellent.” he says, as if the thought entertained him. “I wouldn’t expect less from you.”

“You didn’t need to go this far.” I snarl.

“Says the woman who married someone just for revenge.” he answers.

“I love him!”

I bite my tongue just after the words leave my mouth. I shouldn’t have said that. Not because it was a lie, but because it will make everything worse. I shut my eyes close as I wait for his answer.

“So you didn’t feel anything before at all?”

It was so far from what I expected. I expected him to hang up, or say something angry. On the contrary, he sounded almost emotional. I sit down on bed because if I did not, I would’ve definitely fall to the ground.

“Of course I did.” My voice cracks with pure grief as I talk. “I know you don’t believe me. But I did. April 29th.”

We both are silent now. He does not say a word, but I wait for him to. He has to. He has to believe me and end this nonsense. He has to remember where I was April 29th.

“Addie…” he starts. Addie.

And that moment, Harry’s voice fills up the room.

“Who are you talking to?”

#taylor swift #taylor #1989 taylor's version #taylornation #t swift #midnights #high infidelity #tstheerastour #swifties #swiftie #reputation

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itsyourlifehowwillyouliveit · 11 months

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Not Your Fairytale

This is probably going to be one of the hardest post. I do not know really where to start here. I have such a toxic past with you. There is SO much history. We had such great times in the past but the bad out weighed the good. But the seasons changed. Its been a year, four months, a week and three days since I left you. Yes I keep up with that. Is that not pitiful? I don't know why I keep up with it as if it is a fabulous time in my life or something. I try to not hold any grudges against you. I try to tell myself I am over you. I feel like I am lying to myself. I keep finding myself thinking about you in almost every song I listen too. Almost every situation I am in. I thought I wanted to get married and have babies with someone else and all I could think about is how devastated I would be if you did that. I think about how I might feel if you found someone you could live forever with and it does not seem fair. I think about how I have waited for 8 years for you to be the man I have always needed you to be and knew you could be and thinking someone else would get that version of you because I walked away does not seem fair. You have came so far since we split. You have came to terms that you was the downfall in our relationship. You have admitted your faults. You have a job now you can turn into a career and that is your plan. You do everything you can and put our son first. Its bitter sweet to see how leaving you pushed you into being the person you should be. I am still concerned about you though. It seems that you still drink and get in your feelings about our past. Your mother is the one that told me on your weeks without our kid you drink and do that. I guess you do not get violent anymore but your still using alcohol as a coping mechanism. That is not healthy. That scares me. It scares me when you drink at all anyways. I cant be around you when you drink. It makes my anxiety sky high. I feel like I am walking on eggshells all over again never knowing if your going to blow up or not and I will be damned if I become your mental punching bag again. You kissed me... When you kissed me I expected "sparks" to fly. They did not. Instead it left me lost and confused and with a emptiness. It made me scared and worried. I wanted to run.. fast and far. But my legs would not go. My mind wants to get as far away from you as possible but my heart wont let me. I cannot open up to you. I am terrified of you. I do not want to venture back down a path with you where I destroy and lose myself again. I hated the person I became when I was with you. I have so much trauma and so much bad toxic habits I have learned being with you. Most of them was defensive mechanisms but still toxic is toxic. I wanna blame you. I wanna blame you for me not being able to be in a healthy relationship. I wanna blame you for how broken and torn I am. I would've done any and everything for you and you beat me down and made me a shrivel of the person I once was. My fire burnt out. My glow was no longer there. My happiness was nonexistent unless I looked into the eyes of our beautiful boy. Why am I damned to you? No matter what you have done to me, no matter how poorly you have done me and made me feel I still have to know your okay. I still have to talk to you. I still need to see you and make sure you still look at me in the way you did back in 2013. I think I like the fact you are chasing me. I think its because for so long I chased you, even when you would push me away I would still be right behind you chasing you. Now the tables have turned and its you chasing me and that feels nice. You send me on a emotional rollercoaster because while everything that comes out of your mouth sounds soothing and great I cant help but to think but for how long.... How long are you going to be this great person? If I took you back tomorrow how long would I have until I am right back in the same shit show I was in before? You would have to go snail speed with me. My heart cant take no more pain or destruction. When you say sexual things to me it makes me cringe. It makes me cringe because you would have to fully win over my trust before I would ever be able to let you have me sexually again. You always fulfilled me sexually but never mentally. I will never give you your physical wants again if you cant meet my mental needs. Like I said, snail speed. This is not a fairytale between you and I. This almost seems like survival of the fittest. Whos going to break first and whos not. Who is going to give in and who isn't. I hate you do this to me. But I can not help it. You asked me this the other day, you said "is this it should I stop trying" and no matter how badly my mouth wanted to say "YES" it just would not come out... I couldn't say those words to you. I need to work on myself. I need to be alone and get past the trauma and the pain. I need to actually deal with it instead of ignoring it or covering it up with other things. I don't know if we're done yet. I don't know if we will ever be done. I don't like sitting here fantasizing about if we have a future or not either. It gives me a headache due to the complications and how scared I am. What I do know is that I need to focus on myself. I need to work on my mental health and make sure I can be happy and healthy alone before I ever invite anyone else into my life romantically. You'll either respect it or find someone else. I don't know how long the process will take but I am willing for it to take as long as it needs to because if I don't I will hurt more people along the way and you and I both know that is not something I like to do. I hate hurting others. So I will be alone and I will fight this and figure it out. Once I do maybe then I can come back to all this mess and try to sort feelings.

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khaotunqs · 1 year

Note

it’s your secret santa again 🎁💞 the holidays really are always a season right between nice and really stressful, but i hope the nice part is lying ahead for you and your week has gone well so far <3

loved what you said about nct (127)!they’re one of my favourite groups too and doyoung is one of my biases too, i sooo get what you mean. at first i only listened to their music without watching any videos or content, so his voice stood out to me first and i was like … damn, who is that … and here we are now! he has a fantastic voice and is really hilarious dhhdhehje. and your song choices! ahhh, i loved seeing those! your blog title made me think of time lapse right away and seeing you mention it i was like, well, that’s clear now (what a good song whew). overall, i just love how nct always has some stuff going on and you can just sort of pick what you want to enjoy and see from them 👌

loved your character list, i feel like these are so very you and fit what you’ve told me about the shows and stories you go for (and dw i would find it difficult to seoerate jwds and vegaspete too, they are so intertwined in each other). your taste really shines and i love how your gifsets always are an extension of that. the way you see your favourite media and characters and give them room in your stuff and your creativity is so cool! ☺️

i know our time is coming to a close, but some last questions bc i still love reading what you have to say: are there any dramas you are looking forward to in 2023 or any on your watchlist? any movies you really loved this year? and any show or movie that took you completely by surprise or was just a fun watch for yourself?

sending you good vibes and thoughts! 🌞

hello my mystery friend! i'm a little sad that our time is coming to a close--i've had such a nice time "chatting" with you!

this got kinda long, so i'mma put this behind a cut!

i'm trying not to freak out about the holidays--this was a rough year for us and frankly i don't need to compound my stress, y'know? it'll be okay. my family is relatively healthy and happy, and that's more than i could ask for.

right??? doyoung's voice is so good! doie, release a solo mini album, i beg 🙏 my friend pointed out once that my biases tend to skew toward the singers and when i thought about it, i realized she's right. doyoung from nct (also taeil!), kihyun from monsta x, onew from shinee, baekhyun from exo... there's definitely some merit to that lol

i was reviewing that list and wow i do have a type, don't i? i like my men slutty and/or emotionally stunted. 👌

you're so kind 💕thank you for saying that about my gifsets. i'm enjoying making them and stretching myself creatively. honestly, i haven't felt this creative in years. i didn't realize how much i missed giffing until i started doing it again on a regular basis. i thrive on engagement, and i'm so happy that people seem to enjoy what i do.

hmmm. dramas i'm looking forward to... i don't have a lot of new dramas on my list but there's a lot of already-released stuff waiting for me. 'prison playbook', 'under the skin', and 'big bet' are a few that come to mind. there are A LOT of dramas that i need to get back to (that adhd brain baby!): 'tomorrow', 'extraordinary attorney woo', 'the guest', 'flower of evil' and 'my country: the new age' come to mind. despite having lots of shows to resume, i've delved into a couple of new ones--'bad and crazy', 'somebody' and 'connect'. i'm enjoying them all so far. 'bad and crazy' is so much fun right now (i suspect it will get less fun as the series goes on) and the chemistry between lee dong wook and wi ha joon is great. 'connect' is interesting (and kinda gross, but it is takashi miike so). and 'somebody' gives me the chills. love it.

as far as movies, i really liked 'incantation'. i finally saw 'the handmaiden' this year--amazing. i also watched 'mother' and 'memoir of a murder'. both very very good films. i hope to continue my journey through shin ha kyun's filmography 😍 (god that man makes me insane)

i'm trying to think if anything took me by surprise, and honestly it would be 'beyond evil'. i realize i'm a broken record at this point, but that series really changed my life. i went into it anticipating a murder mystery and what i got was this beautifully told story about love, loss, death, greed, companionship, loneliness, found family, and flawed people. i think about it literally every single day, i've watched the whole series three times so far, and i feel like i'm due for another one soon.

sending you good vibes and positive thoughts!!! i hope you're safe and well, mystery friend! 💕

#askbox #secret santa 2022 #🎅💌

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delcakoo · 2 years

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HEY KOOBEAR IM SO SORRY I HAVENT BEEN TALKING TO YOU THE OAST 3 DAYS :((( I missed you sm 💗💗💗☹️☹️☹️😘😘😘😘🥰🥰🥰😍😍😍

we….. FINALLY MOVED IN!! I HAVE MY OWN BEDROOM!! We didn’t decorate it yet, I have a futon for a bed lol we’re waiting until prime day and thanksgiving for the deals. Saving money isn’t a habit it’s a LIFESTYLE 🥵 but I didn’t have internet for 3 days I was absolutely gonna go feral. I couldn’t listen to enha for so long I started hearing d-d intro randomly 😟😟 but whateva. I have a google mini and it serves as a scrumptious head banging jump upping move yo body speaker quality and I have drunk dazed playing on rn. BEST TITTLE TRACK FIGHT ME 🫵🫵👊👊💪💪🤬🤬💥💥‼️‼️

But like right tomorrow we’re leaving for India so I can’t talk to you for a month :(((( I’ll miss ur writings sm

Also my friend invited me to her awesome epic ass Halloween party BUT I CANT GO. SOBBING OSMBDJSND. HER PARTIES ARE ALWAYS SO FUN AND I LOVE DRESSING UP.

Also the new concert has me raving curling my toes punching the wall stabbing my gut crying tears head aching like I’m actually sad. THEM SINGING SHOUT OUT MY COMFORT SONG. Playing I need the light and shout out on my loud ass speaker rn it just feels right

But on the bright side she has a thanksgiving party, Christmas party OMG CHRISTMAS. AOMANDKW LYES, YES YES. THAT INE KPOP COVER OF ALL I WANT FOR CHRISTMASS BLESSING FOR MY EARS OMFG. BLASTING THAT SHIT ATTEH CHRISTMASS PARTY OMGMGMGMG

Also an Amazon india you can get so much makeup for cheap it’s like 😲😲😫😫😡😡🫵🫵 GIVE RIGHT NKW DKAMDKWMD a lip tint for 44 dollars here is like 13 ish dollars on Amazon India like dayum 😱😱🤭🤭 also not to brag but I got 3 properties of dirt soil and brick in my name in India 🤩🤩 a house, an apartment complex, and a mansion mhmhmnmjm when I literally came from the womb I was gifted with gold. Ain’t ever accepting no less from a partner. My standards are sky high so either be anyone from enhypen or treat me like a queen or just don’t bother. I say all this acting like I’d pull anyone 😍😍‼️‼️💪💪

Speaking of pulling people my hot ass cute ass pretty ass scrumptious ass friend didn’t :(((( she liked some guy who wears highlighter shirts (get rid of them 4eva) and he was kinda ugly ngl but my queen deserves better idc he just wasn’t the one. But basically I had gym and then German after and I saw my queen in the hallways and she was like “WAIT HES IN UR GYM?!” And I said “yeah and in my German tew” and she was like “PLSPLSPLSPLSLKSOLSLS ASK HIM IF HE LIKES ANYBODH BE DISCREET ABT IT” and I was gonna ask him bc me and my friend were walking and he and some guy (NAMED JAY 😱😱😟😟🥺🥺) were walking and jay was like “yo are (kuma’s queen) and you going to the Halloween dance” and he was like “nah bro” and jay was like “well (kuma’s queen) likes you imagine” and I was just quietly listening to them talk ish abt her and it broke my heart :( BUT TLEAST WE KNOW HE AINT IT MY QUEEN DESERVES HER KING FRL if he ain’t taking her out I will she deserves the world omg

Sorry for so many paragraphs I would’ve cut this inbetween 3 days but no internet ☹️ HYD MLOVE MDEAR MDARLING I HOPE UR HAVING A GOOD DAY BBG 😘😘💗💗‼️‼️😍😍

AHHHHH KUMIE WUMIE HIHIHI MY LOVE, I MISSED U SM TOO :((((

WTF WTF WTFTWTETFTWR KUMA I LITERALLY FINISHED WRITING THE ENHA WHEN YOU’RE ON YOUR PERIOD THAT YOU REQUESTED HOLD ONNNN AHAISN. OKAY YKNOW WHAY IM GONNA POST IT IN A FEW MINUTES SO YOU CAN READ IT BECAUSE IT WAS LITERALLY FOR YOU and plus im on my period rn it sucks GRAHHHH OKAY JUST WAIT

AJSJSHKDNDH IM SO HAPGY FOR YOU, THATS A SHAME YOU HAVE TO WAIT TO DECORSTE BUT ITLL BE WORTH IT!! AND SO TRUE DRUNK DAZED IS THE BEDT TITLE TRACK I’LL FIGHT WITH HOU 🔥🔥‼️‼️✊✊✊

DONT SPEAK TO ME AB THE CPNCERT OKAY. IM STILL MOURNING AND SCREAMING AND PRETENDING IT DIDNT HAPPEN ❤️

DAMN WTF WHY DOED UR FRIEND HAVE SO MANY PARTIES 😭 THATD GOOD U CAN ATTEND THE OTHER ONES AND OMFG YOU KNOW THAT COVER????? BRO 100% AGREE ITS A LITERAL EARGASM WENDYS VOICE IS INSANE, AND BANGCHANS HARMONY HAD ME CRYINGJGNG I LISTEN TO THAT COVER RELIGIOUSLG I WISH IT WAS ON SPOTIFY 😭😭😭✊✊

DAMN WTF.. I WANNA GO NOW GIRL GET A SHIT TON OF STUFF AND MAKE SURE TO DO A HAUL FOR ME OKAY ‼️‼️‼️

UM YES YOURF RIEND DESERVES BETTER.. NOT THE HIGHLIGHTER SHIRT 🧍 AND OMG JAY?? jaY ENHYPEN GOES TO UR SCHOOL REAL?? 👁👁

EDIT: I JUST REALISED I READ THIS A DAY LATE AND NOW UR IN INDIA 😭😭😭 IM SOBBING IM CRYJGNFH IM SO SORRY KUMA NOOO MY LOVE, OKAY I’LL POST IT RN ANYWAY IN UR HONOR 😭😭😭😭💖💖💖❤️💖❤️💖❤️

#delcakoo #kuma <3

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watchmegetobsessed · 2 years

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NEXT DOOR

❤️A/N: happy v-day my lovelies!! this is my bouquet of roses for you and its also part of @thebigbutterflytattoo 's writing challenge, it's an enemies to lovers and i hope it will bring you all some joy whether you spend/spent it with your partner or alone!

❤️PAIRING: neighbor!Harry X Reader

❤️WARNING: smoking🍃, smut

❤️SUMMARY: Your neighbor keeps getting on your nerves and you hate him for that but you hate how good-looking he is even more.

❤️WORD COUNT: 9.1k

MASTERLIST |SUPPORT ME!

Harry Styles is ruining your life. And he decided to do that by moving in next door.

As you lie in your bed, staring at the ceiling, you try to keep your cool while the wall you share with his apartment vibrates from the bass of the song he is playing on the other side, a lot louder than he should at midnight. It doesn’t matter that it’s a Friday, you don’t have weekends, working as a waitress you can’t even remember a day when you had a Saturday off.

You have a ten hour shift tomorrow as well and you need all the sleep you can get, but the smug British guy on the other side of the wall is making it impossible. He started slamming his music at around nine. That wasn’t a too unreasonable time so you let it slide and waited. And waited and then waited some more and when you went to bed at eleven it was still blasting. Now it’s been an hour of trying to shut it out and sleep, but it’s not happening and you are not planning to lie awake all night long or at least until Harry decides he’s had his fun.

“This fucking… man!” you groan, kicking the covers off of yourself as you march over to your wardrobe and grab a hoodie before heading out of your apartment and right over to his front door.

The music can be heard even out in the hallway too and you wonder how the people above and below him are not using their minds. Oh right, he is living above Mrs. Fowler who is basically entirely deaf, she never hears when you say hello to her in the elevator and then above him lives Holly, who is a stripper so she is at work right now, not present to hear the concert Harry is putting on.

You ring the bell next to his door, but you don’t actually hear it ringing so it probably doesn’t work, just like yours. Groaning you ball your hand into a fist and start banging on the door, hoping he’ll hear it through the music. It takes a few tries for him to notice and the music finally stops, footsteps echoing in his hallway before the door flies open and you lay your eyes on him.

He is an asshole, or he has been one to you since the beginning for sure. He is always moody and never holds the elevator when he sees you coming into the building. You keep finding his mail in your mailbox and you’re starting to think that he is giving out your address on purpose just to piss you off.

But god damn it, he is so hot! Especially shirtless, like right now. His grey sweatpants are hanging low on his hips, that happy trail leading down under the fabric catches your attention more than you’d like. Those stupid tattoos look so fucking sexy on him, you want to lick them, but then you see the smug smirk on his face and even though he is undoubtedly handsome, you want to punch him right now.

“If it isn’t 3C, how can I help you in this ungodly hour?” he asks, leaning against the doorframe, his gaze shamelessly running up and down your body. The hoodie covers your upper body pretty well, but your cotton shorts are putting your legs fully on display.

“Oh, so you know it’s an ungodly hour! So then why the fuck are you having a whole ass Tomorrow Land in your apartment this time of the day?” you grit through your teeth, folding your arms on your chest as you shift your weight to one leg. Harry purses his lips, but he doesn’t seem surprised at your accusation.

“Was it too loud? I didn’t know, no one else came to complain.”

“Because it’s just the two of us on this level and your lower neighbor hears absolutely nothing while your upper neighbor is a fucking ghost in the night. Would you turn it down? I’m trying to sleep. I have work tomorrow.”

“Mrs. Fowler is not deaf, Y/N. That’s very rude to say.”

“I’m pretty sure the last thing she heard was the announcement in the radio that World War II is over.”

Harry lets out a belly laugh, flashing you his bunny teeth and fucking hell, even imperfections look good on this man!

“I would tell you to watch what you say about her, but you’re right, she doesn’t hear shit. So, what can I help you with exactly?”

“Are you dumb? Turn the fucking music down,” you tell him and without waiting for an answer, you turn around and head back to your apartment, but Harry calls after you.

“Is you little boyfriend not fucking you right? You’ve been so cranky lately.”

“Shut the fuck up, you can’t even get a woman to be in the same room with you willingly!” you snap back before shutting the door closed behind you.

As you get back to bed you fear that your comment just riled him up even more and he won’t stop the concert, but luckily you only hear silence.

“I’m sorry, baby. But you know how important this project is.”

Duke sighs on the other end of the call as you push the door to your building open, holding the phone to your ear with your shoulder.

“I know, I’m just bummed I can’t see you tonight either,” you tell him with a pout as you walk up to the mailboxes, looking for your key on your keychain.

“I’ll make it up to you this weekend, okay? Just you and me, you’ll have me all to yourself.”

“Alright, that sounds like a great plan,” you chuckle, biting into your bottom lip.

“I gotta go, I’ll text you later. Love you!”

“Love you too,” you sigh before ending the call.

Reaching your floor you are about to just simply get inside, but something averts you as soon as you approach your door.

“Fucking… Harry,” you grumble under your breath when you see your doormat all muddy and dirty when his is practically untouched.

It had to be him, when you left your doormat was nice and clean and no one has been in your place since then. The asshole must have used yours just to keep his perfect. Stepping to his door you bang on his door in annoyance.

“Keep your fucking dirt away from my doormat!” you scream before marching right into your home, not even waiting whether he is home and heard your message or not.

Duke canceling tonight gets you a bit crankier and you want nothing else than to just have a relaxing bath and go to bed without a care in the world. You do some quick cleaning while the water is running, fogging up your tiny bathroom and you scroll on Netflix to put on a show from your tablet while soaking the long day away, but your bubble is quick to pop when the familiar thumping of music starts pulsating through the walls you share with Harry’s apartment and it’s the last straw.

You’ve complained to him way too many times before about listening to music too loud and you’re convinced he is doing it on purpose now, knowing you’re home after you banged on his door about the muddy doormat. This man is out to get on your nerves and you will not let him get away with it.

It feels like he enjoys having you kicking his door every other day so this time you choose a different way of letting him know he is being disrespectful. The apartments in the building are not too spacious but there’s one big perk for them: the balconies. They are designed in a way that the partition between the two apartments doesn’t run all the way along, it turns into the railing before making a turn to the front of it so it gives you a nice little peephole to your neighbor’s balcony. And this time you’ll use it as your entrance to Harry’s place.

Without a warning, you march out to your balcony and with easy, you climb over to Harry’s. He’s got two mismatched chairs and a tiny table out there with an empty ashtray and you remember all the times you smelled the weed coming from his place.

The sliding door is wide open thanks to the oddly warm day today so you can walk into his home with no hustle. It’s exactly like yours, just mirrored, but his interior is a whole different universe than yours. It’s so obvious a guy is living here, he has a lot of mismatched furniture inside, quite chaotic but definitely fitting for his style. He’s got the speakers that are blasting the music right now too but he also has a record player with a massive amount of Vinyl records stacked. You almost forget about what you’re here for and start going through his collection, curious about what records he loves so much he bought them, but when you hear his singing coming from the bedroom you remember the mission.

Walking over to the speaker, you simply turn it down to a reasonable volume and then just stand there, waiting for him to realize what happened.

“What the—“ you hear him followed by his steps until he walks out of his bedroom, both of you shocked to see the other.

Him because you basically just broke into his apartment to lower the volume of his music and you because… he is wearing nothing else than just a towel that hangs dangerously low on his tattooed hips, that teasing line of hair running down his lower stomach and disappearing underneath the towel, urging you to fantasize about what he’s hiding there. His hair is damp and water drops are running down his chest and your thoughts are running wild for a second.

“What the fuck are you doing in my apartment?” he snaps and though he tries to sound angry, you can hear the amusement in his tone.

“I told you a million times to keep it down. You’re not the only person living here,” you simply tell him, folding your arms on your chest.

“And how exactly did you get in here?” he asks, tilting his head to the side and you’re having a hard time keeping your wandering eyes up at his face when he is practically naked in front of you.

“I have a key,” you tell him and watch the confusion etch through his stupid handsome face. “I climbed through the balcony, you idiot!” you roll your eyes at him. “Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about doing that before.”

“I have, plenty of times, hoping to find you dancing around naked in your living room,” he smirks at you smugly.

“Creep.”

“I’m not the one who actually broke into someone’s apartment,” he defends himself holding his hands up and your eyes snap down to the towel that seems to loosen in the motion and Harry definitely catches the stolen look.

“Whatever. Keep the volume down or next time I’ll call the cops on you and I’m sure the weed you keep around here would interest them enough to give you a hard time.”

Heading back out to the balcony you’re climbing over the railing again as Harry appears at the sliding door, watching you maneuver your way over to your place with a grin on his face.

“I’ll leave the door open for the night. Feel free to come over if your boyfriend doesn’t fuck you right. I’m sure I can make you scream,” he winks as you land on your own balcony and you shoot him a narrow-eyed look and ignore the reaction his words caused in your body, not giving him the satisfaction to know his dirty talking definitely gets you going.

“Keep on dreaming, Styles,” you tell him before disappearing from his view and as you get into your living room you make sure to lock the door in case he might decide to visit you too.

Duke is late. He had some last minute emergency at work so now the dinner you made will be cold by the time he gets to your place. You try not to be mad, it wasn’t his fault, but he’s been so absent lately it rubs on you the worst way possible.

You cover everything and blow the candle out you lit just to set the mood and pulling a hoodie on you head out of your apartment to climb up to the top of the building and blow out some steam on the roof, your favorite secret spot. Chewing on your bottom lip you’re typing away on your phone replying to one of your friends as you push the heavy door leading out to the roof without even looking around so you don’t notice that you’re not the only one up here.

“Are you following me?”

Harry’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts and as you look up from the screen you see him sitting on one of the massive pipes running close to the edge, your favorite place to sit because you have a great view of the city from there, but apparently it’s not yours only.

“Sorry, I didn’t know it was taken,” you sighs, already turning around to go back down when he calls after you.

“I think this roof is big enough for the two of us, you don’t have to leave,” he says and when you turn to face him again you realize he is smoking a joint. You ponder going back to your apartment or staying and decide you’ll give this a chance so you walk over to him, sitting down to the pipe as you stare out ahead of you, the rumble of the city surrounding the two of you as Harry silently keeps smoking. He holds out the joint for you.

“No thanks,” you say, but not because you don’t smoke, you just don’t want to be stoned when Duke finally arrives. You spend so little time with him, you don’t want to mess it up.

“You seem tense,” he comments as he brings the joint back to his lips, taking another long drag before the thick smoke dances out through his lips.

“Mm, shocker,” you mumble.

“Want to talk about it?”

“With you?” you scoff. “What makes you think I want to talk to you?”

“I don’t know. I’m high and you didn’t curse me out in the past three minutes. Thought I would shoot my shot,” he chuckles, taking another hit before putting it out in the ashtray you saw on his balcony earlier. At least he doesn’t leave his ash all around the roof.

“I only curse you out when you deserve it.”

“So… every time you see me?” he grins and you hate how good it looks on him.

“Because you piss me off every time I see you!” you defend yourself, making the both of you laugh.

“It’s your fault, you make it so funny,” he shakes his head, staring out ahead of him.

“What? How is it my fault?” you gasp.

“I love that prissy face you make whenever you give me a lecture. As if you were the fucking prime minister or something.”

“Wow, thanks, good to know,” you huff, but you don’t take it to your heart, not this time. It’s all just fun and games.

“I let my balcony door open the other day, but I’m disappointed you didn’t come visit me again,” he smirks peeking at you.

“And I locked mine in case you got funny ideas,” you tell him, making him laugh.

“I didn’t think of it, but I should definitely try it out sometime. Raid your fridge, take a bath and then go home.”

“Not gonna happen,” you scoff. Your phone buzzes in your pocket and pulling it out you see a text from Duke.

DUKE: Can’t make it baby, I’m sorry!! I’ll make it up to you I promise! Xx

“Fucking… great,” you growl and shove the phone back into your pocket without answering the text.

“What happened?”

“Just… my boyfriend can’t make it,” you mumble under your breath, watching the twinkling lights of the city in front of you.

“Don’t take it the wrong way, but your boyfriend is a total douche,” Harry huffs, rolling his head around to crack his neck.

“You don’t even know him.”

“I know enough about him.”

“What do you mean?”

“A friend of mine works with him, I’ve heard things about him and he doesn’t seem too delightful,” he chuckles, playing around with the rip on his jeans at his knee. “He is like a total flirt with everyone, did you know that?”

“What?” you breathe out confused.

“He like, keeps sweet talking to women at the office, always flirting with someone. I’ve seen it myself actually. I dropped off a package for my friend and your little boyfriend was sitting on the desk of some secretary and they were definitely more than just friendly.”

“Where is this coming from? You saw just one little thing and you’re so quick to assume you know everything!”

Anger is rising in your guts, but not because Harry is shit talking Duke, no. It’s because deep down you know it’s entirely possible that he is telling you the truth, but you will not admit that to him.

“I just told you my opinion, no need to get so mad,” Harry scoffs.

“Your opinion about others is always so fucking negative. You see someone and assume you know everything about them.”

“What the fuck are you talking about, Y/N?” he chuckles in confusion. You jump to your feet, the sudden urge to get away from him burning in your chest. His honesty is just way too much for you at the moment.

“You. I’m talking about you and your big mouth that just loves to talk about others when you’re just as problematic as the ones you judge.”

“I’m not judging, I just told you what I saw. Don’t take it like a fucking attack.”

“I’ll take it however I fucking want to! I don’t need you criticizing me or my relationship!” you snap and head towards the exit, wanting to get off of that roof as fast as possible.

“Get the fucking stick out of your ass, Y/N! And open your eyes for once! That asshole is using you, but you know what? It’s none of my business, you’re right! Go and jump on his dick when he is fucking like a dozen other women too!” Harry calls after you and for a moment you debate turning back and punching him in the face, that would serve you peace or at least some fun, but instead, you just leave and march back to your apartment.

As much as you told yourself Harry was just trying to get on your nerves with what he said about Duke, he definitely got the gears turning in your head and brought your paranoia out. Duke really has been spending a lot of time doing extra work, apparently, and you never questioned if it was the truth but after your little chat with Harry on the roof, you can’t help but wonder if something has been going on behind your back.

Curled up on your couch, the two of you are now watching a movie, he finally made time to be with you and he’s been super sweet, he brought you flowers and ice-cream to make up for all the time he had to miss with you but it just got your suspicion even higher.

Is he trying to make up for something else? Is he trying to butter you up so you don’t ask him what he’s been up to lately?

You hate yourself for doubting him but you hate Harry even more for bringing it to your attention. You were fine living in oblivion, why did he have to break your bubble?

“Let’s have a break, I need to use the bathroom,” he gets up from beside you, his warm body peeling away from yours as he pauses the movie and walks into your bathroom. You’re just sitting there patiently waiting for him to return when his phone buzzes on the couch, it’s been laying on his other side, screen facing downwards. Pursing your lips you stare at the device, practically burning a hole into it until you find yourself snatching it up and unlocking it. He doesn’t know you know his code and you never intended to use it but your anxiety has brought the worst out of you.

You see red instantly when you pull down the notification bar and see his latest message from someone named “G”.

G: I promise ;) miss you, can’t wait for next weekend Xx

There is no stopping from there, you open the message thread and start reading it completely ignoring how you’re violating his privacy, but it doesn’t matter when he’s been dirty talking with other women behind your back. And when you see nudes popping up on the screen, you lose it completely.

You hear him flush the toilet when you go back to his other messages and see at least three more from women saved as just one single letter, but the moment you scroll in the conversation you see more and more nudes and intimate texts popping up in front of your eyes.

“Alright, I’m back and—“

“Get the fuck out of my place,” you snap at him jumping to your feet as you throw his phone at him. Unfortunately, his reflexes are good enough that he catches it so you do no damage to him or his phone.

“Y/N, what the fuck?” he raises his phone with wide eyes that keep switching between you and his phone in his hand.

“I said get the fuck out, Duke! Before I fucking smash something on your head!” you scream at him but he doesn’t listen and tries to get closer to you, which you don’t want so you move away, keeping the couch between the two of you as a barrier. Not sure if it’s for him or for you just yet. “Go and fuck all those sluts in your phone! I don’t want to see you again!”

“Babe, I can explain, okay? Just let me—“

“I don’t want to hear it! Get the fuck out of here before I call the cops on you! I don’t want you here or in my life!”

“Y/N, you are acting crazy. Let’s just sit down and talk!”

“I’m not fucking crazy! You are if you think I want to even be in the same room as you ever again!”

You’re desperate to get rid of him so climbing over the couch you start pushing him towards the door while he keeps trying to resist you and get a hold of you, but you shake his hands off every time they make contact with your arms or shoulders.

“Stop fucking pushing me! What’s wrong with you?! You’re being very childish, let’s just have—“

“GET OUT!” You scream when you finally reach the front door and opening it you’re trying to push him out, but he is too strong, he just keeps pushing back and getting farther away from the door, the panic rising inside of you.

“Don’t fucking scream at me, Y/N. You have no idea what—“ He doesn’t get to finish his threat, because he gets pulled away from you violently and it takes a few seconds to realize what’s happening.

Harry has barged into your place and he now has Duke by the collar of his shirt, dragging him out of your apartment as your cheater (now ex) boyfriend is trying to wiggle his way out of Harry’s hold, but it seems like your neighbor is stronger than you thought.

“Get the fuck out of here before I call the cops on you! Did you not hear her scream at you?” Harry barks as he pushes Duke out to the hallway with one swift movement.

“What the—“ Duke gasps, completely feral over the fact that he was thrown, as if you haven’t just found out he’s been cheating on you. “Who do you think you are?!”

“The one who will beat the shit out of you if I see you here again. Now leave!” Harry shouts before shutting the door closed, trapping Duke outside while he and you are inside.

Harry turns around and you’re just standing there completely frozen and in shock, barely processing what just happened. He slowly walks closer but makes sure to keep some distance between the two of you in case you freak out.

“Hey, are you alright? Did he hurt you?” he asks and you’ve never heard him sound so soft and gentle. The shock is tightening your chest and tears are forming in the corners of your eyes as you finally lift your gaze to meet his. Before you could even stop yourself or think about what you’re doing, you close the gap between you and him and hug him so tight you’re crushing him, but he doesn’t complain. Instead, he wraps his arms around you, running his hands up and down your back as he holds you in his arms securely.

“It’s alright. He’s gone. And if he ever comes back I will break his arm,” he mumbles and you laugh through your tears, sniffling your nose as you try to slow your wildly beating heart down.

Harry makes you sit on the couch and he disappears for a bit to make you a tea, the warm drink definitely soothing your raging mind. He sits beside you, his eyes filled with worry as he eyes every move you make.

“You were right,” you mumble, avoiding to look at him as you talk, feeling like a complete idiot. “I saw at least four text threads with different women in his phone and they were definitely not friendly.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N. You didn’t deserve it.”

“I should have listened to you, but… I just didn’t want to believe someone would do this to me. I was so fucking stupid…”

“Don’t beat yourself for something that asshole did. It wasn’t your fault, alright? He’s a piece of shit,” Harry growls shaking his head.

“He had the fucking nerve to call me crazy,” you tell him, now replaying the moments before Duke got thrown out. “He was cheating on me with several women and I was crazy for being upset, how does that make sense?”

“It doesn’t,” he chuckles. “He’s a prick.”

“And now I’ll be single on Valentine’s Day, cool. I was already making plans for the two of us, but I guess I’ll just mope around here,” you sigh, letting your head fall back against the back of the couch.

“That’s what worries you the most?” Harry chuckles.

“What? It hurts! I fucking hate being alone on Valentine’s Day!” you gasp dramatically, though you know it sounds ridiculous, but it does bother you.

“Alright, then if that’s your biggest concern, I’ll take you out.”

“What?” you ask, eyes widening.

“We’re gonna have a night out on Valentine’s Day, have some fun and forget about your asshole ex.”

“Don’t you have some girl to take out?”

“Weren’t you the one who said no woman wants to be in the same room as me? Why do you think then that I have someone to take out?” he asks with a sly grin and you roll your eyes at him.

“That was just a joke.”

“I know,” he smirks. “But our plan still stands. We’ll let lose a bit.”

He keeps his word. When Valentine’s Day comes in just a few days, he shows up at your door dressed in a simple red flannel and black jeans while you chose a fully black outfit for yourself just to reflect how you truly feel about the holiday. Because all lovely couples go to restaurants and romantic places, you decide to spend the night where single people go: a nightclub.

It’s been three days since you’ve became single and you’ve seen Harry more than in the one year you’ve been neighbors. He’s checked in on you every day and even helped you running errands. He said he needed to get some stuff done for himself too, but it very much seemed like he just wanted to keep you company and it’s the sweetest thing he has ever done for you. You even sat on the roof together one time without any of you cussing the other out.

Now as you push your way into the loud club, Harry’s hand holding yours so he doesn’t lose you in the crowd, you can’t help but wonder how you would have never guessed this is how you’d be spending Valentine’s Day just about a week ago.

Harry orders two shots for each of you and a long drink to chase them down and you happily chug down the drinks, eager to feel the alcohol burning away the pain your ex caused you.

“Damn, we should have done this when you moved in!” you chuckle after another shot, your head starting to feel dizzy.

“Oh, come on, you would have never gone out with me anywhere!” Harry barks out a laugh as you grab your beer and move away from the bar. “You’ve hated my guts since day one!”

“I only hated you because you made me hate you!” you defend yourself, his grin widening as he stares down at you over his beer.

“I was just being playful, but you took it to your heart and decided you hated me.”

“You kept getting on my nerves, that’s not too playful.”

“What, you never heard that when guys like you they annoy you?” he cocks his head to the side and your smile falls as you stare back at him.

“You like me?”

“You mean, did I have an instant crush on the hot girl living next door? Absolutely. But it seemed like she hated my guts so all I had left is to annoy her and have her banging on my door every other day, shouting my hair off,” he admits chuckling.

“Shut up!” you giggle. “I thought you were fit too.”

“Really?” he smirks smugly and as someone moves past you, you get pushed against him, a small gasp slipping through your lips, Harry’s free hand coming to your lower back to steady you.

“Yeah, with your stupid handsome face and sexy tattoos, it always got me even angrier that I wanted you in my bedroom whenever you pissed me off with something.”

“You should have just asked, baby,” he grins and you bite your bottom lip, busying yourself with your beer.

It doesn’t take long for the two of you to move to the dance floor, the DJ is playing old hit songs and you’re having a blast, loving how everyone around you is just having a great time with friends or the new people they just met, not even one lovey-dovey couple in sight.

Harry is a great dancer, honestly. He doesn’t care what others might think, he just busts whatever move he wants and you’re having the time of your life. It’s not even the alcohol you consumed but Harry himself that got you forget about all the shit you had to deal with.

And now you feel like an idiot for being so mean to him all this time.

The crowd goes crazy when Time Of My Life comes on from the iconic Dirty Dancing movie, every girl is screaming and even the guys are swaying along to the song happily.

“I fucking love this song!” you scream over the music and Harry’s grin widens as the two of you move along with the crowd.

“Want to do the move?”

“What move?”

“You know, the lifting!” he says, motioning with his hands as if he was holding something up above his head.

“What? Are you crazy?” you laugh.

“Just the right amount! Come on, let’s do it!” he claps and tries to make some space for the two of you, shouting at people to move back as you watch him with amusement. “Okay, let’s do it! I’ll catch you!” he shouts and everyone around you is starting to get curious about what’s happening, some of them even pulling their phone out.

“You’re gonna drop me!”

“I won’t! Trust me!”

Your rationality is telling you not to do it, but you shove it to the back of your mind as you back away from him, creating some space for yourself to run towards him. Harry steadies himself, hands ready to catch you and when the right moment in the song comes, you leap forward.

You squeal when you jump and Harry lifts you up above his head, your legs moving around as you try to find balance, only focusing on Harry’s face that’s watching you so you don’t get too dizzy. You hear the crowd around you scream and clap as you finally straighten your legs out, a deep laughter coming from your belly as you get lost in this pure, joyous moment.

Slowly, he eases you down back to your feet, your chest pushed against him, his hands remain on your hips as you run your palms up over his chest to the base of his neck, your gaze wandering down to his delicious pink lips and you catch his eyes flickering down to yours as well.

“Do you want to go home?” you offer with a small smirk and leaning closer you place a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth. He nods eagerly and taking your head he makes his way out of the club, pulling you after him, keeping you close in the sea of people.

When you finally make it outside, the two of you climb into a taxi and head home, getting a little handsy in the backseat. He circles an arm around you, his fingers dancing on your ribs as you lean against his side, hands on his thigh, gradually moving higher as you get closer to your building. Harry presses a kiss to your hairline and your eyes meet, the lights of the city flickering through his face as the car drives down the almost empty streets. A lazy smile tugs on his lips you want to taste so badly and just as you push yourself up, your nose nudging his, your lips almost brushing against his, the car stops and the driver announces that you’ve arrived.

Harry pays for the ride and you climb out of the car, hand in hand making your way up to your floor and you don’t hesitate before tugging Harry towards your door. He teasingly takes your keys out of your hand and as you press your back against your front door, he pushes up against you, blindly unlocking the door, but when you hear the lock clicking, you don’t move just yet, instead, you grab the back of his head and finally smash your lips against his.

You both moan at the same time, the long anticipated kiss is finally happening and you’re ready to devour him entirely.

Kicking the door open you stumble into your place, tangled together and giggling as you keep your lips locked and once the front door is closed, Harry wastes no time picking you up into his arms and carrying you into your bedroom. He makes you sit on the end of the bed and he stands close to you, taking your face in his palms as he runs his thumb across your cheeks. You snake your arms around his waist and under his shirt so you can feel the warmth of his skin under your touch, it makes you lose your head almost instantly.

“I want to make you feel good, Y/N. So good like your scumbag ex never did,” he murmurs and leaning down he kisses you passionately.

“That won’t be hard,” you sigh against his lips and he stops, giving you a puzzled look, so you elaborate. “He made me cum like… five times in five months,” you admit, feeling your cheeks and ears heating up.

“Wait, what? Five times in five months?”

“Yeah…” you breathe out chewing on your bottom lip.

“That’s… Y/N how the fuck did you not break up with him earlier?”

“Hey, it’s harder for some women, it might not be entirely his fault,” you shrug, but Harry is not at all satisfied with your answer.

“It was his fault and I’m gonna prove it to you. I’ll make you come three times tonight and the two times in the morning to show you he was just a piece of shit,” he growls before attacking your lips again, pushing back on the bed so he can crawl on top of you.

His words alone got your underwear drenched, but the way his hips press against yours as his tongue dominates yours, you almost come on the spot just from that. He covers your jawline and neck with hungry, sloppy kisses as his hands work up your top and he is quick to pull it off of you, your lacy black bra now mesmerizing him as he stares down at your heaving chest.

“Fuck, I have a confession,” he breathes out while you start unbuttoning his shirt, eager to get him out of it.

“Yeah? What is it?”

“I saw you once in your window only in your underwear.”

“What?” you chuckle, finally finishing with his buttons and you drag the shirt off of him as he starts explaining himself.

“I was coming home and it was already dark outside, you had the lights on but you forgot to draw the curtains in. You were wearing a pink bra and white panties, washing your teeth, I almost came in my pants just seeing you.”

“And why are you telling me this now?” you laugh, finding his word vomiting quite hilarious.

“I don’t know, you’re making me go crazy I guess,” he admits before he puts his lips into good use again, kissing you hard and he grinds his hips against yours, his bulge pressing against your needy core and you can’t help but cry out from the sensation.

“I wanted to tear your towel off of you when I climbed into your place the other day,” you confess too when he kisses down your chest, his hands kneading your breasts as he licks and bites the swell of them.

“You should have. I wanted to fuck you so badly,” he mumbles against your hot skin, one hand moving to your back to unclasp your bra and a moment later he has full access to your breasts.

“Oh fuck! Harry!” you whine as he gently bites your pebbled nipple and tugs on it, the slight pain just adding to the rush you’re going through.

“Let me see just how wet you are for me,” he mumbles as he kisses your stomach moving down your body, quick to undo your pants and tug them off of you, leaving you in only your lacy panties that match your bra, though that’s already somewhere on the floor.

Harry kisses your cunt through the fabric and you moan so loud, if he was in his bedroom he would definitely hear you, but he is right here, between your legs. He rids you of the last piece of clothes and there you are, lying completely naked in front of your hot neighbor who you hated just a week ago.

“Tell me, has your asshole of an ex ever eaten you out?” he murmurs, only kissing the inside of your thighs, the feel of his lips making you wiggle on the mattress, but he places a hand to your stomach, keeping you down.

“He didn’t like to do it,” you whine out and it’s the truth, Duke only went down on you about twice, but you have a feeling he did poorly just so you wouldn’t want him to do it again. Though he very much liked it when you used your mouth…

“You make me want to kill this dude with every detail you share about him,” he growls before he dives right in, kissing your throbbing pussy, with his hungry mouth, making you almost cry from the way he sucks on your clit and then draws circles with his tongue.

You lace your fingers through his curls and grind your hips against him as he keeps pleasuring you like no man before, you start to see stars, his name keeps falling from your tongue as a desperate plea for the release you’re chasing.

You completely lose it when he thrusts two fingers inside you, moving them in just the perfect pace as his mouth does magic on your clit.

“Harry, I’m gonna cum!” you gasp out, your limbs turning into jelly, your growing orgasm keeping your nerves in a chokehold basically and your warning just makes him go even harder.

You come on his fingers fast and hard, it’s like a lighting that strikes through your body and leaves it in pieces. Your hold on his hair tightens but it just earns you a sensual moan from him as he licks you up, letting you ride out your orgasm fully. When he climbs up your body his lips and chin is glistening from your pleasure and he looks better than ever. Leaning down he kisses you and tasting yourself on him gets you wet again even though you feel like you won’t survive another orgasm, not when you’ve been kind of in a drought for a while now.

When your hands find his ass you realize he is still wearing his pants and that just doesn’t sit right with you. Without breaking the kiss, you undo his jeans and waste no time with tugging them down along with his boxer briefs. When you finally dig your fingers into his bare ass you gasp against his lips, his hard cock springing free and smacking against your pussy.

You grab his cock wanting to feel him in your hands, squeezing and pumping him lazily as your lips nibble on his chiseled jawline, his mouth hanging open when your thumb plays with the head of his cock.

“Maybe don’t keep doing that if you don’t want me to… fucking come right now,” he chuckles nervously and you find it amusing how fast he can go from sexy and rough to cute and shy.

“Mm, wouldn’t mind it,” you tease him as he reaches for his pants he pulled off just seconds ago, grabbing a condom from his pocket. “Were you planning on this the whole time?” you grin as you watch him roll it on.

“Planning? No. Hoping? Definitely,” he grins, stealing a quick kiss before bringing his cock to your cunt, running the head up and down a few times, gathering your arousal, getting you ready for the second orgasm he promised out of the three for tonight.

“Cheeky,” you giggle, hooking your arms around his neck as he lets his body push down against yours, his weight feels comfortable and very much needed, his cock poking at your entrance teasingly.

“Are you ready for the second, baby? Or do you need some more time?” he hums, kissing your face all over, his soft lips caressing your skin gently.

“Need you inside,” you urge him, buckling your hips to show him that you want him to move. He doesn’t need more, kissing you on the lips he pushes inside you and fills you up inch by inch so perfectly, you could cry.

“Fuck, you feel so good, Y/N,” he moans, his head falling to the crook of your neck as he stays still inside you, but you need him to start moving before you lose your mind.

Pulling your legs up you open up as wide as you can, allowing him to bottom out fully and when he finally pulls his hips back and thrusts forward again, you moan so loud you’re afraid even Mrs. Fowler can hear you downstairs.

“Tell me what you want, Y/N, tell me how to make you feel the best,” he begs before his lips claim yours again, his rock hard cock gliding in at out of you so deliciously it starts a fire inside you.

Duke never really cared what felt good for you, he just assumed whatever was right for him was enjoyable for you too, but it wasn’t really the case. He liked to fuck you from behind lying on your side, but you didn’t quite enjoy it, you had to hold your leg up for way too long and you felt a bit empty that you couldn’t see him. You told him this once, he ditched the pose the next time but about a week later he was back at doing what he wanted.

He was a selfish bastard. But Harry right here… he has already done so much more than Duke, you’re afraid you’ll never be able to look at another man ever again.

“Just please let me see you,” you beg panting as you grab a handful of his luscious curls and pull him hard against your mouth, your teeth clashing as he keeps pounding into you.

“Right here, baby. I’m right here,” he murmurs, his body weighing down on yours just right, you need to feel him to keep you grounded because the way he is making you feel is definitely out of this world.

He pulls back, just enough to hook his right arm under your left leg and hike it up to his shoulder, the switch allowing him to hit a spot inside you that you never even knew existed.

“Oh my God! There! Don’t fucking stop!” you cry out, your back arching as Harry makes sure not to change anything he is doing.

Every time you said the same thing to Duke he instantly started going deeper or in a different angle and the feeling vanished into nothing in a blink of an eye. Harry knows what he is doing and he is not afraid to cooperate with you for the sake of not just his but your orgasm as well and it makes him a million times hotter if that’s even possible.

“I’m so fucking close, but I don’t want to come until you do,” he grunts before turning his head to place an open-mouthed kiss to your calf, his fingers digging into your thigh on your other leg and you’re close to bursting, just a few more… thrusts… and…

“Harry! Fuck!” you scream as the most intense orgasm you’ve ever experienced washes over you, every bone and muscle is shaking in your body and your vision blackens out for a few seconds.

Your walls tighten and pulses around Harry and it finishes him off fast and hard, his thrusts fall out of his rhythm and he grunts loud and raspy as he comes, his head buried in the crook of your neck and your leg slips off of his shoulder, falling to the mattress as if it wasn’t even attached to your body.

“Holy shit,” you pant when you come back to life, blinking your eyes open only to have part of your vision occupied by his unruly curls. You dig your hands into his hair and massage his scalp gently while he lies on top of you and still inside you, both of you still fighting to slow your breathing down to normal.

Several minutes later Harry finally lifts his head up, the widest lazy smile stretched across his handsome face and you can’t help but mirror it as he leans closer and locks lips with him. You’re fucked, in all sense, completely gone, but apparently, Harry is still not done yet.

“That was only two,” he mumbles against your lips. “I promised you three for tonight.”

“Harry, I think I would die from a third,” you chuckle, barely able to lift your arms up. He rolls off of you, his arms curling around you to pull you into his embrace and you happily melt against his hot body, the feeling of his naked skin sticking against yours is so soothing and gentle.

“But I always keep my word. Just trust me! I know you can do one more,” he grins before kissing you, slowly and sensually, his hands raking your back gently, squeezing and massaging your aching body he completely just destroyed.

You’re tangled up under the sheets and his tongue becomes one with yours as you keep making out, it feels so nice and soothing, you barely even notice when you hook a leg over him to get closer to him and your hips start grinding. Harry grins into the kiss, his hands moving down to your ass to pull you closer and he moves the two of you around until you have his thigh between your legs, the one with the tiger tattoo and the one you’ve definitely had dirty thoughts about when you saw him in short shorts in the summer.

“Use my thigh, baby,” he mumbles, kissing down to your throat as you settle in a comfortable position, rubbing your sensitive cunt against his hairy thigh, the friction of your movements slowly building up your third orgasm he promised you, though you’re still not convinced you’ll be able to come again.

“Fuck, you have no idea how hot you are right now, Y/N,” he gasps as you start to pick up your pace, your clit rubbing against him relentlessly and his skin is slimy from your wetness, you would have never even though about doing this with Duke, but with Harry the sky is the sky is the limit.

“Harry,” you breathe out, squeezing your eyes shut when the tension between your legs is starting to grow rapidly again.

“Look at me, baby! I want to see your beautiful eyes,” he begs you, cupping your jaw in his palm and you force yourself to open your eyes, meeting his beautiful green ones. “You’re perfect, Y/N. So fucking perfect,” he breathes out before kissing you hard as you keep grinding against his thigh.

“Harry, I’m so close,” you cry out, but you feel like your body is not letting you come for a third time even though you’re desperate.

“Come on, I know you can do it. One more, just one more!” Harry urges you, his hands coming to knead your breasts, pinching at your sensitive nipples and when he bites into your bottom lip while kissing you, the dam finally breaks.

You come repeating his name, panting and gasping for air, Harry wraps you up in his arms tightly and he whispers into your ears as you ride out the last waves of your pleasure.

“You did so good. So fucking good, Y/N. I knew you had one more for me,” he murmurs kissing into your hair.

He lays you onto the mattress next to him and you’ve turned into a ragdoll, completely numb but in the best way possible. Harry gets up and disappears in your bathroom before returning with a towel. You grunt as he cleans you up, like a whiny baby, but he just hushes you kissing your knees before taking care of the mess on himself as well. When he finally returns to bed you’re already half asleep, but when he cradles you in his arms you gladly melt against his body, inhaling his musky scent that smells like sex and some kind of spice, it’s intoxicating and you’re already obsessed. You fall asleep feeling his hands rubbing your back and arms and his lips pressed against the crown of your head.

It’s barely eight am and Harry has already made you come once. You’re convinced you won’t leave this bed in one piece, because he is definitely adamant to keep his word of giving you a second one on this fine morning.

You woke up feeling his lips all over your naked back and it didn’t take long for his gentle fingers to find their way between your legs and soon enough, you were gasping for air starting your day off with an orgasm.

“It’s like you’re obsessed with making me come,” you giggle, hooking your arms around his neck as you pull him against you in the morning bliss.

“Because I am,” he grins smugly. “You have no idea how beautiful you are when you scream my name and come on my cock… or fingers… or my tongue,” he mumbles kissing your face all over.

“Mmm, or your thigh,” you add and he nods smirking.

Just when things are about to take up a notch, someone starts pounding on your front door.

“Y/N! It’s me! Let me in, we need to talk!”

You both freeze hearing Duke’s voice coming from outside, the banging continuing as you stare at each other.

“I’ll take care of it,” Harry then announces and gets out of the bed in all of his naked glory and you sit up alerted as he grabs his boxer briefs from the floor, putting them on though his erection is pretty evident through the fabric.

“Harry! You’re gonna answer the door like that?!” you gasp, holding the covers to your chest and he just winks at you before making his way to the front door.

As he opens it and reveals Duke standing there, it takes for your ex to realize what he is seeing.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Duke spats at him, but it doesn’t faze Harry at all. Instead, he simply leans against the doorframe, pretending like it’s a normal thing to answer the door with his dick rock hard.

“Y/N can’t come to the door, she’s busy. What do you want?”

“I want you out of my girlfriend’s apartment!” Duke barks, but Harry just laughs at his ridiculous attempt at dominating the situation.

“She is mine now. And if I were you, I would take the remainder of my pride and leave, because I made her come in one night almost as many times as you did in five months. Cheers, mate,” he nods and Duke is so shocked by his answer he doesn’t even move as Harry shuts the door at his face.

“I can’t fucking believe you!” you gasp when he returns and quickly gets rid of his underwear before getting into bed with you again.

“What? I told him the truth!” he chuckles before rolling on top of you. “Now, how do you want your fifth orgasm?” he hums, nibbling on your bottom lip.

“Just get your wonderful dick inside me already,” you moan impatiently and Harry is quick to please you.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

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2K notes · View notes

miekasa · 3 years

Text

NICE.

+ pairings: eren yeager + (fem) reader

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

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

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

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

+ word count: 19k. i’m sorry.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Uh, yeah.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you, baby. I love you.”

“Eren?”

“Yeah?”

“Get off my line.”

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

“Someone’s coming to pick us up,” he says, trying to focus on Armin’s sigh of relief and not the warmth creeping up his neck and into his cheeks, “I’ll, uh, call a tow for the car in the morning.”

The cop, too tired to care, only shrugs, and pays them no further attention. He hands Eren a plastic bag with his car keys and newly suspended license, escorts him back into the cell, and returns to his desk. Eren gives Hannes the finger while his back is turned.

Beside him, Armin is still quivering; bouncing his leg up and down, fiddling with his fingers, gnawing on his bottom lip. Eren frowns, a heavy wave of guilt washing over him as he takes in the younger’s anxiety ridden state. It wasn’t fair that Armin could have potentially suffered legal consequences because of his stupidity.

Eren’s lucky that Hannes was sleazy enough to accept his bribe and let him off with minimal punishment. With that they were doing, things could have ended up far worse for the both of them tonight.

“I’m sorry, man,” he apologizes, hands stuffed in his front pockets, “About tonight, I mean. We—I shouldn’t have done that, not with you there.”

Armin looks up at him with sparkling, doe eyes and Eren wants to punch himself in the gut for making him go through all of this, even if it didn’t amount to an actual arrest. “You couldn’t have known this was going to happen.”

“I could have prevented it,” he says. Because it’s what you would have said, too.

“It’s not your fault, I wanted to come, remember?” Armin tells him, redirecting his gaze to the grey floor of the precinct cell. He takes a deep breath, almost calming down completely when a sudden thought reignites his nervous ticks, “You… they’re not gonna tell my parents, right?”

“No, no—of course not.”

Armin was legally an adult; he, nor Eren, nor the police had to tell his parents anything. Sure, Hannes could rat them out, but honestly that sounded like way more work than he was cut out for; not to mention he’d be bound to reveal that he let them off easy for a couple thousand bucks.

Armin nods, “And… that wasn’t Erwin on the phone, right?”

“Are you kidding me? He’d murder me on the spot,” Eren says. He pauses before tacking on, “I, uh… I called (_____).”

“Oh,” the younger gapes, “She’ll kill you, too.”

“Yeah,” Eren sighs, scratching the back of his neck in nervous anticipation, “Trust me, I know.”

“You have your access card on you, right, Armin?” you ask. He nods sheepishly, hand on the car door handle.

“Thanks again for coming to get us,” he says meekly, “I’m sorry about waking you up and everything.”

You offer him a warm smile through the rear view mirror, “Don’t worry about it, I’m just glad you’re safe. Text me when you get up tomorrow, okay? We can get brunch, my treat.”

His face lights up at the prospect of free food, and he nods once more, enthusiastically, but his expression falls again when he speaks, “Okay, and I’ll, um, pay you back for the tickets and stuff as soon as I can—”

“It’s fine, really, don’t worry about it,” you repeat.

“It was almost three thou—”

“You forget who you’re friends with,” you cut him off with a smile, “Don’t worry about it, okay? It wasn’t your fault.”

Armin’s eyes dart to Eren quickly, before clearing his throat, a light pink tint to his cheeks. You know that the prospect of money can be a sensitive subject for Armin, one easily triggered by his very environment, but this wasn’t negotiable on your end. You know that Armin doesn’t like the feeling of owing anyone anything, but he knows he won’t get you to budge; so, he quietly nods, appreciative of your generosity, before bidding you and Eren a final goodnight and sprinting towards the dorm. Once you see that he’s safely inside, you wave one last time, and wait for the door to shut behind him.

Slowly, Eren turns to the driver’s seat to look at you. You were eerily calm when you came to pick him and Armin up from the station. You didn’t yell, cuss, or punch him in the face like he expected. You politely talked to the officer, thanked him for his service, paid their fees, and up until now, you’ve shown no signs of being angry with him at all.

The two of you drive back to your shared apartment in complete silence, Eren too confused, and borderline scared, of initiating a conversation. He wonders if you’re too tired, or if you really don’t give a damn anymore, but when you pull into the underground lot of your building and put the car in park, he finds out the silence was simply the calm before the storm.

You take your hand off of the gear shift and turn towards him. It’s a quiet stare down for nearly a full minute before you break the mime act with a slap to his thigh.

“Drag racing? Are you out of your fucking mind? Of all the stupid shit you’ve done—and you’ve done a lot of stupid shit—this has got to take the cake. Just what the actual fuck were you thinking?”

“Ouch!” he inhales sharply, rubbing over where you’d hit him, “We were just having fun! Then these other guys showed up and started talking shit so—”

“Having fun?” you echo, “You couldn’t think of anything fun to do that’s not illegal in every borough of New York City?”

Eren feels his cheek flush, but he only huffs with the illusion of disinterest, “I don’t know why you’re freaking out so bad. I’m a good driver, it was those other squids that got us into shit, I’m telling you. They showed up looking for a fight, then ran like a bunch of pussies when the cops came.”

You exhale slowly, shaking your head in disbelief. You seem to have no other words to say to him, choosing to step out of the car and slam the door behind you. Eren quickly follows, slamming his door equally as hard, and hot on your trail as you march towards the elevator.

“(_____), come on, enough with the silent treatment,” he whines when you stick yourself in a corner of the elevator after pushing the button to the penthouse, “I told you I didn’t start shit, Armin and I got ratted on.”

“I couldn’t give a rat’s ass about whether or not they started it, Eren. You’re still the problem here.”

“Me? How am I the problem?” he pulls back, eyebrows drawn together in genuine confusion, “I just told you I didn’t do shit.”

You scoff, crossing your arms and shifting your left leg, “I’m not doing this with you right now.”

“Doing what with me?” he presses, tone growing icy.

“This, Eren!” you reiterate, “I’m too tired to hear your bullshit right now.”

The elevator dings and opens into your apartment. You push past him, continuing your deliberate strides through the living area, and to the stairs, but Eren catches you with a hand on your wrist before you can go any further.

“Will you fucking stop that,” he growls, “If you’ve got something to say, then stop running away from me, and just say it.”

“Funny,” you sneer, pulling your wrist away from him and settling both your feet on the bottom step, “You’re one to talk about running away from things.”

He takes a step back, standing just a notch below you, perfectly frozen in place. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means your little drag racing episode was not only dangerous and immature, it was you running away from your problems like a spoiled child, yet again.”

Eren’s features narrow at your accusations; eyes fading into hooded slits, lips curving downwards, and voice bobbing low, “I’m not running away from anything.”

“Oh, please, Eren,” you roll your eyes, arms retreating to their crossed position in front of your chest, “Cut the bullshit.”

“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.” But he bets that even in the dim lighting of the apartment, you can see the tips of his ears growing red, just like they always do when he’s lying.

“Oh, really?” you ask, eyes widening in mock surprise, “You don’t think I don’t know this whole thing has something to do with the fact that your mom came home on Friday?”

Another pause. “Who told you that?” He asks, but it comes out more like a statement.

“Nobody had to,” you snap, “Jean said he caught you with a sack of coke over the weekend, and I knew something was up.”

“It wasn’t mine, I was—”

“I said cut the shit, Eren. If I went up into your room right now I bet your ass I’d find more than enough of it in a shoebox somewhere.”

He retreats, almost bashful, but unapologetic all the same. “Fine, whatever, I did a few lines. Big deal.”

“The big deal is that you think this is fucking normal, and now you’ve upgraded from coke to getting yourself arrested! It’d be one thing if you were acting like a misfit on your own, but to drag Armin into it because you—”

“Drag him into it?” he echoes with the snare of sarcasm dripping from each syllable, “You talk about Armin like he’s six. I don’t know why you think he’s some helpless little baby, but you have no goddamn responsibility over him. He’s not your fucking charity case.”

“I never fucking said he’s my charity case—don’t you ever fucking say that,” you say, “Having some basic respect and concern for my friends isn’t charity.”

“Wake the fuck up! You baby Armin when he’s a grown ass man. I didn’t force him into the fucking car to get sympathy points from you.”

“Grown? Armin is barely nineteen, disowned by his parents, is on a full fucking ride to an insanely expensive university, and you got him arrested tonight! Do you know what could happen if NYU found out? They could fucking kick him out, take his scholarship away—and then what, huh? Or were you just gonna buy off the headmaster, too?”

“You’re acting like I fucking planned for it!”

He’s screaming now, voice bellowing throughout the apartment, face red—and he doesn’t mean to, he doesn’t mean it at all; but it’s late, and he’s tired, and those shouldn’t be excuses, but he’s too prideful to back down.

“Of course you didn’t! You didn’t plan for anything, you were just being a reckless, irresponsible asshole like always,” you tell him, too blind-sighted by anger and the need to chide him that you miss the teary undertones in his words.

“And what’s it matter to you?”

“It fucking matters to me when you call at some godforsaken hour asking me to pick you up from prison!”

He takes a step forward, right leg elevated by the same step that both your feet rest on. “Well, what else am I supposed to fucking do!” He shouts even though he’s mere inches from your face, “Tell me just what the fuck I’m supposed to do instead!”

“You’re supposed to act like an adult and fucking talk to someone!”

“Who the hell am I supposed to talk to, huh?” he presses, taking a step forward and forcing you to retreat backwards, and up a step, “My mother who’s never home or her bastard boyfriend?”—another step forward for him, another step backwards for you—“The step-brother I can’t get in contact with?”—one step forward; one step backwards—“Or maybe the dad I never had, right?”

“Me, Eren!” you yell back with equal vigor, throwing your hands up at your sides, and planting your feet firmly. “Armin, Mikasa, Jean—anyone! You have people who fucking care about you! Stop treating us like correction officers, we’re your fucking friends!”

There’s silence for a while, just you and Eren staring at each other, heavy breathing, waiting for the other to make the next move. He opens his mouth, but when he tries to speak, his resolve washes away, his throat tightens and the words get sucked back in.

It would be easy to keep yelling, screaming, blaming you for blowing up on him. He used to think the scolding he got from you after pulling some stupid stunt was the worst part; but now, he thinks it might be his favorite part. He hates to hear you scream, and it hurts to see you cry, but if you’re yelling, you’re angry that he hurt himself; you care that he’s okay.

“I—” he stutters, words quiet and broken, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for it to get like this tonight, it was an accident I—”

“You never mean for any of it to happen, yet it always does,” you interrupt, voice soft yet strained, “I know you have your own shit to deal with, but so does everybody else.”

“(_____), please, you’re right, okay? I should have said something before,” he admits, mouth small as he voices his confessions, “I should have talked to you or one of the boys, but I—I don’t know what else you want me to say.”

He’s groveling now. Mouth in pout, eyes wide, voice small, and honestly, he thinks he might cry. At this point he doesn’t care if he does.

“I want you to mean it,” you finally say, and when he looks up, he hates the look he sees in your eyes. It’s something between sad and hurt and empty and it’s awful. Someone like you shouldn’t feel that way. He shouldn’t make you feel that way.

“I—”

“When you’re ready to tell me exactly what’s going on with you—what’s happening that made you think going to jail would be better than facing your issues—I’ll be here to talk,” you continue, eyes watering, “But until then, goodnight, Eren.”

Eren winces when you turn around and ascend up the remaining stairs. He flirts with the idea of following you, going to your room to finish talking, but you’re probably angry enough to have it locked. His room is up there, too, but he opts for part of the sectional, laying down with the palms of his hands kneading against his closed eyelids.

For as long as he can remember, you’ve been there for him. Your friendship, at times, was like a game of tag—Eren always on the run with you loyally chasing after him; he’d always run amuck, and you’d always be there to catch him in the act. Now, it’s five in the morning, there’s no more yelling, no more chasing, no more racing, but he’s still running.

The following morning, you take Armin out to brunch, as promised. Jean tags along too, something about hanging out with the two of you being infinitely more entertaining than his genetics lecture. It doesn’t seem like Jean knows anything about Armin and Eren’s late night antics, so you don’t bring it up yourself.

Oblivious, Jean chats your ears off as if nothing is awry. Whether he knows it or not, he does a great job of distracting Armin from his own thoughts. They both eat to their heart’s content when you remind them you’ll foot the bill; and you don’t bat an eye when Jean convinces Armin to order his third round of pancakes. He deserves it.

Afterwards, Jean convinces the three of you to go window shopping with him in SoHo, claiming that he needed inspiration for his latest fashion assignment (you don’t question why he’s taking a fashion class as a biology major, but you suspect it has something to do with Mikasa). Window shopping soon turns into actual shopping, so almost completely unprompted, and with little effort on his part, Armin gets a few pieces of clothing on your behalf, while you try to ignore Eren’s words itching at the back of your mind.

Armin’s not a baby, but he certainly is a kid with a rough past and rough relationship with his parents at a time in his life where he arguably needs them the most. A little extra support from his friends wouldn’t harm him.

It’s nearing six when the three of you are wedged in a small booth inside a café, indulging in overpriced hot chocolate. Three sips into his second cup, Jean excuses himself to the bathroom, leaving you sitting across from Armin.

“You know, you don’t have to keep buying me stuff to make up for Eren,” Armin says, a small smile playing on his lips.

“I’m not trying to make up for him,” you sputter, careful not to spill your drink over your lap, “You had a rough night. Just accept my gifts, don’t be a brat.”

“I do accept them. Erwin’s been eyeing that Off White sweater for, like, three weeks now. He’s gonna have a hissy fit when he sees me wearing it.” You chuckle, and he continues, “But you know, as much I love spending time with you, you can’t use me to avoid Eren forever.”

“I’m not avoiding him,” you frown.

“You said you were going to take us to brunch, and then spent the whole day with us.”

��Funny, I recall you saying something about how much you love my company about thirty seconds ago.”

“He’s called you at least ten times today.”

“I was spending the day with my favorite NYU student… and Jean,” you bat your lashes, “I see you maybe once a week. I live with Eren, I have to see him every day.”

Armin calls your name with a pout, “He’s sorry, you know.”

“Not sorry enough,” you mumble. Armin opens his mouth to say something again, but then Jean’s sliding back into the booth, chatting about how he’s finally come up with the perfect anniversary date for Mikasa.

Armin doesn’t notice your sigh of relief, but he does take note of the way you wipe away your notifications when a text rings through. If Eren could spend his days running away from his problems, then you could, too.

Despite being arguably the greediest of you all, Jean loves company, so he doesn’t hesitate to say yes when you ask to crash at his place after your shopping escapades. You expect to be welcomed with sounds of screaming, laughter, and loud music, but to your surprise his apartment is completely silent upon your entering.

“Bertholdt has class and Marco has a meeting,” he prompts, as if he could read your thoughts. He shimmies his coat off his shoulders and tosses it over the bar in the foyer.

Their apartment has the same amount of rooms as yours and Eren’s, but is all stretched along a single floor. It’s more of a maze, really, with intricate turns, and hallways, that all more or less open up into the expanse of the foyer and bar. Their living room is your favorite part. A dark, brown leather sectional wraps around the back three walls and an oversized flatscreen encased in an ebony frame takes center stage. A collection of vinyl records litters the walls above the couch; each of the boys contributing their favorite discs as décor.

“If he has class, shouldn’t you have class?” you question, fingers dragging over the ridges of the closest record.

“I’ve had class all day, but that doesn’t mean I go,” Jean shrugs, walking up behind you and taking your jacket off your shoulders and your bag from your hand, “Besides, Bertholdt will probably cut half-way to go see Reiner, if he can even stay awake that long. Going with him is just as productive as staying home.”

“You’re all a mess,” you scoff, turning around as a cheesy grin grows on Jean’s lips. His smile is infectious, and soon you catch yourself grinning just because.

“You want something to drink?” he offers, throwing your coat over his elbow and tilting his head in the direction of the bar.

“You’re bad at mixing drinks,” you remind him, but follow him anyway.

Jean laughs, not bothering to deny the jab. He doesn’t try his hand at anything mixed or complicated this time; simply offering you a glass of your favorite red, and pouring himself a smaller amount.

He puts the album you were gawking at earlier on the record player, the two of you sinking into the couch as lovely melodies radiate throughout the apartment.

He spends the first hour bitching about how Marco’s supposed to become a CEO in less than a year, yet has the attention span of a squirrel; but the playful lilt in the brunette’s voice, and the begrudging smile on his face lets you know that it’s all love. He gushes about Mikasa for a good half hour, cramming you with stories about his girlfriend’s talent for sewing and fashion. You also learn that Bertholdt’s been busier than usual these days, and Jean suspects it has something to do with a secret lover.

You pinch your eyebrows at his hunch. Bertholdt’s never been one for dating. He’s had many friends with benefits in the past, but they weren’t relationships, nor were they secrets. In fact, you don’t think that he could keep a secret to save his life.

“Why would he be hiding it if he were seeing someone?” you question, swirling your newly refilled glass.

“Dunno,” Jean shrugs, “But it’s sus, I’m telling you. He’s been oddly busy for someone with a 2.3 GPA. Either way, I’ll pry it out of him eventually.”

“You’re so fucking nosey,” you chuckle, watching the mischievous, satisfied grin settle onto his features.

“I kinda think it’s Armin,” Jean says after a while, downing the remaining wine in his cup, while you choke on your own drink.

“Why on Earth do you think if Bertholdt had a secret lover that it’d be Armin?”

“Because he was in love with him for, like, two years in high school,” Jean says, as if the information should be painfully obvious.

“Yeah, and Bert also hooked up with a million different people in high school.”

“That doesn’t mean he wasn’t still in love with Armin.”

“I don’t think Armin’s kissed another human, let alone is in a secret relationship with one.”

“Hm, true. I forget he’s still a virgin.”

“Hey—there’s nothing wrong with Armin being a virgin, leave him be.”

“I know there’s nothing wrong with it,” Jean whines, “But it’s so—he doesn’t have to be. Armin’s cute! And very attractive—dare I even say sexy. He could go outside and get laid right now if he just tried.”

“Stay humble, Jean boy. If I remember correctly, you only started breaking hearts a year ago,” you tut. Jean’s nose goes pink as he shoves you away when you continue, “But, if you’re so concerned with Armin’s virginity, why don’t you go help him out with it.”

“Actually, if I remember correctly, I think that’s more your gig,” he shoots back, a smug smile tugging on his lips. “Not to mention, I’m not trying to get beat up by Annie. Though, I wonder how much longer it’ll take before she finally snaps. Hey, maybe the both of you can tag team him, I’m sure Annie wouldn’t mind, and it might even make Armin less nervous to have you—”

It’s your turn to shove him now, throwing in an extra punch when his head bobs back with laughter. You’re very certain Annie would mind; you would mind if someone inserted themself in your kind of, sort of, not really relationship, and ruined your four years of pining.

“Speaking of lovers,” Jean prompts, once his laughter dies down, bending his knee and turning closer to you. “Why are you and lover boy fighting? Trouble in paradise?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you hum, sipping your drink in between words. Jean’s eyes pinch together. “Marco and I would never fight.”

“My god, will you let your Marco fantasies go already? You’ve already caused him one sexuality crisis,” Jean groans, “You know I mean Eren.”

You sigh, lowering your glass and reaching forward to pinch his cheek. “It’s nothing you have to worry your pretty little head over.”

“Please,” he scoffs, flicking your offending hand back, “He’s been texting us nonstop since this morning at, like, nine. I didn’t even know he was capable of waking up before noon.”

It’s your turn to roll your eyes, but Jean continues, “Why he would ask us for advice on you is beyond me. He knows you better than all of us combined.”

“And why you’re saying all of this is beyond me.”

“Oh, come on, what’d he do,” Jean pushes, borderline whines, as he puts his empty glass down in a cup holder embedded in the couch. He’s always been the most prone to gossip, but you forget that wine makes him even more of a nosey prick. “Must have been pretty bad. Or stupid.”

“Try both,” you mumble, “Well—I don’t know, it wasn’t… the worst thing anyone could do, but it was really fucking reckless—and why he did it, I couldn’t even tell you. I don’t know what goes through his mind half the time, but I swear he must have been on crack last night.”

“He probably was. On crack, I mean. I told you, I took an ounce from him over the weekend, but that was after Eren and Ymir did, like, five lines.”

“Do they really do that regularly?” you nearly cry, a hand massaging your temple, “Fucking Christ, if he really was high while driving, I’ll kill him myself.”

“Well, I don’t know if regular is the right word,” Jean ponders, “Maybe for Ymir, but god knows what she’s on half the time, anyways. Besides, coke isn’t the worst thing they could do.”

“You sound like you speak from personal experience.”

“Maybe,” he shrugs, pausing when you shoot him a disapproving look, “Oh, come on! You’re no angel, either—if memory serves, you were high as shit at Moblit’s birthday party, and kept singing the star spangled banner all night.”

“Yeah, on weed! One time! It was on a rooftop and the stars were out and it has the same rhythm as the happy birthday song, cut me some slack!”

He finds laughing at your expense to be much more fun, however, as he continues to chuckle while you throw a fit. He’s also not one to let a topic of gossip go undiscussed, and has no problem bringing the conversation back to Eren.

“It’s because you two don’t talk, you know,” Jean tuts, “That’s why you fight like this.”

For the second time, the younger’s words have your eyebrows growing close together. “I mean, I guess—but it’s more than that. Eren and I live together, we obviously talk, but—”

“I know, I know, but just hear me out, okay? You and Eren talk about a lot of things, yeah, but you also… don’t. And sometimes you don’t have to, because you guys, like… get each other.”

“Wow. What a way with words you have, Jean Kirstein. You should write a self-help book.”

“What I mean,” he sneers, unhappy with the sarcasm being thrown his way, “Is that you guys understand each other in weird ways. It’s actually kind of cute—sometimes a little freaky, in all honesty. It’s why you don’t always have to talk about serious things. But you take it for granted and let shit bottle up, and then get in denial about it until you blow up in each other’s faces.”

“Please, you barely passed one philosophy class and now you think you’re Plato.”

“You’re doing the in denial thing right now!” he taunts, “Come one, when you two fight like this, what’s it usually about?”

You sigh, sinking back into the plush leather of the couch, and wrapping your hands around a fluffy throw pillow. Thinking about arguing with Eren isn’t particularly something you like to do, and truthfully, you don’t really get pissed at each other that often. Not to the point of ignoring each other, at least.

“I don’t know,” you drawl, “Drugs, me forgetting things, him doing stupid shit, him thinking Mikasa could do better than you, school, drinking, the fact that he leaves his big ass shoes at the top of the stairs for me to trip over and fall to my death every morning, when—”

“His parents?” Jean cuts you off.

“I—we don’t really… it’s not so much fighting over his parents, it’s all the stuff he does to deal with his parents. He never gives his mom’s boyfriends a chance, and he never really talks about why, either. I know he’s secretly just angry and insecure about his dad, but… I don’t know. That doesn’t really make it better.”

“True,” he nods, “See—he doesn’t talk about it.”

“I know, and I told him that last night, too, but… it’s a sensitive subject for him—his dad, I mean,” you sigh, “And you’re right, he shouldn’t bottle his feelings up, but, on the other hand he’s watched his mom get married five times. I don’t always blame him for not wanting to talk about it.”

“Yeah, but just because it’s hard to talk about doesn’t mean he shouldn’t,” Jean lolls, “Wouldn’t you have rather he said something than have done whatever stupid shit he did to make you want to sleep here tonight?”

“Okay, Socrates, I get it,” you lighten up, “I’ll talk to him—or get him to talk to me. Are you happy?”

“Quite,” he says, annoyingly chipper as he rises from the couch. “I hate seeing my favorite power couple fighting.”

Jean knows his words would elicit a slap to his arm, so he takes off just before you can reach him, prompting you to chase him out of the living room and down the hall. The brunette cackles ridiculously loudly as you scream his name with profanities sprinkled in-between. You catch a hold of the bottom of his shirt and pull him back, finally flicking him on the forehead.

He accepts his punishment with pride, offering you a signature smile in return while you both catch your breaths. It’s a sweet moment, the two of you looking at each other with stupid smiles on your face, exhalations tickling your cheeks.

Jean’s eyes break the gaze first, as he looks down the remainder of your face, and back up to your eyes again. His words could get caught in his throat, but he doesn’t let them—he shakes his head, and swiftly turns around, beckoning for you to follow him.

“Come on, we can steal Marco’s clothes for your pajamas this time.”

Jean spends all of three minutes pulling apart Marco’s dresser before swiping a t-shirt and Christmas themed pajama bottoms from his room. He tosses them in your direction before leading you back down the hall and to the left, opening the door to the guest bedroom for you, before leaving you to change.

They have more than one guest bedroom, but this one is unofficially yours. Little pieces of you can be found littered throughout the room, from spare jewelry to mismatched makeup. You spot a single, gold, teardrop shaped earring on the vanity and sigh as you run your fingers over it.

You swear you’d lost it a few months ago. Trust Jean to put it away for safekeeping without telling you he’d found it. The boy in question returns moments later, knocking while walking through the door with your purse in hand.

“How’d you know I was about to ask you to get that?” you question, a smile on your face as you retrieve the small bag from his hands.

Jean offers you a cocky grin, “Cause I’m the best.”

“Don’t go getting a big head, now,” you tease, “Or, well, an even bigger head.”

Jean ignores your insult, as you take a seat at the edge of the bed, fishing through your bag for your phone to plug it in for the night. He’s about to turn around and bid you goodnight, when the flash of something orange peeping out of your purse prompts his next thought.

“Hey, you picked up your refill, right?” he asks innocently, “It should have been ready last Thursday.”

You sigh, head falling slightly when you close your bag and place it on the vanity. “Uh… no.”

Jean’s mouth is already open, ready with equally friendly and scolding words, but you cut him off before he can talk. “I was going to on Thursday, but I had class late, and then I forgot on Friday and I haven’t really had time since then. But I have a few left-overs from the last two months, so I’ve been taking those!”

Jean’s mouth closes, but his eyes narrow as he begins to walk towards you. You know he’s putting two and two together, so you speak ahead of him again.

“I know, I know, I shouldn’t have any left over, but it’s only five, I promise! I’ve been really good, lately.”

Jean’s eyes remain in concentrated slits, but his resolve is waning when he reads over your expression. His facade fades as he takes the final steps towards you to stand directly in front of your body.

“Okay,” he says, voice soft through his smile, “I’ll go with you to pick them up tomorrow before I drop you home, yeah?”

It elates him more than it should to see the smile you flash his way. Unfortunately, it’s short-lived, as his next question leaves your face twisted with guilt.

“Have you… told Eren yet?”

You consider lying and saying yes, but something tells you Jean won’t buy it. Your silence seems to speak loud enough, as his shoulders drop with a quiet sigh.

“I want to, I just… well I’m mad at him right now, and even when I’m not… I don’t know why it’s so hard,” you confess.

“He’d wanna know, you know,” Jean says, and it’s not the first time he’s said it to you, either. “You know he wouldn’t judge you or anything.”

“I know that. But, truthfully, if I had things my way, not even you would know, Jean.”

It was an accident that Jean found out that you’d been taking anxiety medication.

It was at somebody’s house party where the majority of your friends and their guests had gotten piss drunk. Reiner’s date had suggested mixing their alcohol with molly she’d supposedly had in her bag. In her drunken stupor, she’d mistaken your purse for her own, but luckily, a not so drunk Jean had noticed the label didn’t match her name, and snagged the bottle before the worst could happen.

They ended up not finding her molly, anyway, but it’s a moot point. Jean had cornered you about the bottle later in the week with honest intentions; he’d been concerned that might be another kind of drug disguised by a prescription veil. However, you’d assured him that it was indeed your prescribed Lexapro, and not a shady mixture of black market substances.

And, he’d been more than understanding in the aftermath. Quite frankly, he had somewhat made it his business to ensure that you got and took your medication on time and felt comfortable getting to and from your therapy appointments.

It’s endearing in a way that made you pause and count your blessings sometimes. Jean had been nothing but unequivocally supportive in his understanding about anxiety and had gone the extra mile to comfort you where need be. It made you wonder why you hesitated to tell Eren on several occasions.

It was probably the very nature of anxiety itself that had you doubting your trust in Eren. You wanted to tell him—of course you did—but, you couldn’t. You know that Eren would do everything in his power to make it better, even if that was just being. You know that he’d want to know and he’d kill to understand. But you couldn’t possibly burden him with your problems, not when he has a million of his own.

The one person in the world you wanted to tell, you were terrified of talking to. And you know it’s irrational to be afraid of him, but you can’t seem to control those thoughts. It’s a tiring, consuming, endless cycle.

Jean watches the way your gaze lowers to the floor. He knows exactly what you’re thinking, and, god, he swears if he could take that train of thought away from you, he’d do it in a heartbeat.

With a heavy heart and tired eyes, he takes a final step forward and wraps his arms around your body. He counts three, four seconds before you hug him back. He raises a hand to the back to your head, cradling your face into his shoulder and squeezing you tightly.

“Hey, I’m proud of you, you know that,” he speaks, just a notch above a whisper, “I know you’ll tell him when you’re ready.”

“I will,” you murmur into the fabric of his shirt. You hug him back a little tighter and close your eyes, “Thank you, Jean.”

And Jean holds on, and hopes you know that he wouldn’t let you go, “You’re welcome, (_____).”

You come home to find your entire apartment littered with flowers; in the hallway, on the sectional, atop the counter, up the stairs.

There are several boxes of your favorite macarons stacked in a small pyramid on the kitchen island, and you wouldn’t be surprised if you checked the labels to find that they were shipped straight from the south of France this morning. There’s too many bottles of Ace on the coffee table, sparkling next to a basket of what looks like your regular skincare products. A pretty, gold bow rests atop an even prettier pair of red-bottomed heels, and if you’re not mistaken, that’s a limited edition, vintage YSL clutch on the sectional, resting against your favorite throw pillow.

You sigh, making your way to the couch to pick up the orange envelope sticking out of the handbag. Just as you’re about to open it, you hear footsteps, and a voice that follows.

“You’re back,” Eren chirps from mid-way on the staircase, “I, uh, there’s catering coming from Butter coming soon. I know it’s your favorite,” he continues as he descends the stairs.

He has his hand on the back of his neck and there’s a faint, pink tint to his cheeks as he slowly makes his way towards you. You cross your arms, looking him up and down when he stands in front of you.

He’s wearing dark jeans and a tweed sweater with patches at the elbow. His hair is split down the middle, longer than usual, so the ends of sweep over his eyelashes; and there are telltale signs that he’d been toying with it.

“Eren, what is all of this?” you finally ask, shifting your weight to your right leg.

“Part one of my apology and explanation,” he replies, a hopeful timbre to his voice. You roll your eyes, but he continues anyway, “Actually, part two is in that envelope.”

Skeptical, you unfold your arms and open the envelope. You don’t know what you were expecting—a card, maybe tickets to a musical or something; but what you definitely weren’t expecting were two tickets to Paris.

“France?” you look up, tickets in hand, “You don’t get it do you? You can’t just buy all of this shit, jet us off to Europe and expect everything to be okay.”

“No, no it’s not like that—I swear!” he interjects, hands moving sporadically, “It’s just, well… Can we sit? Then I can explain everything.”

Eren looks at you with those big green eyes and that sad pout to his lips, and you find yourself sighing and taking a seat on the couch against your better judgement. There’s a small smile to his lips when you do—a little victory—and he sits next to you, your knees resting against each other as you face him.

He’s shaking, and your resolve to punish him with whatever solid exterior and half-assed silent treatment dissolves as you take his left hand in your right, and recall your conversation with Jean. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s me, Eren. You can talk to me.”

When he feels your smaller hand envelop his, the shaking stops, and for a moment, it feels like he can do this, like everything is okay. He smiles, and takes a deep breath.

“The other night, you were right, about my mom and her boyfriend coming home,” he starts, words slow and heavy, “I didn’t even know she was coming—I knew she was visiting this month, but she didn’t tell me when, and I thought it was going to be just her, you know? But then she showed up with him, and, well, I don’t know. I was upset. She’s been home for a week now, and we haven’t even gone to dinner or anything.”

He pauses, and you squeeze his hand for reassurance, “We were supposed to get lunch on Thursday, but she cancelled. Had some meeting or something, I don’t know, I don’t care. Friday comes and she says she wants to have dinner, right?”

You nod, he continues. “I thought it was just going to be us, but he was there. That’s when she told me that… that they’re…” he squeezes his eyes shut, “They’re engaged.”

Your mouth falls into a small o-shape. Everything made perfect sense now.

It’s not that Eren didn’t love his mother, quite the opposite actually. He’s a mama’s boy through and through; she’s his role model, his everything, he adores her. Her career as a designer often takes her on long business trips, most frequently as prolonged stays in Paris, so much so that she relocated her primary office there shortly after Eren graduated high school.

Now, she only visits home for one or two weeks at a time, sometimes only for the weekend. Upon her decision to permanently relocate, she planned to leave Eren under the unofficial supervision of Mikasa. Instead, Eren bought Mikasa her own three-bedroom apartment in Midtown (according to his logic, it was better for her to have her own place than to move in with Jean), and a shared two-story penthouse for the both of you that overlooks Central Park.

Eren misses her more than he cares to admit, but he puts on the same facade every time she comes home because he hates the company she brings.

Paris is where she met her newest boyfriend, Mitchell, and Eren swears he hates that man with every fiber of his being. It’s not saying much, though, not when Eren’s hated every single one of his mother’s past romantic partners, right down to his own father.

“Is… is that why you—”

“Rented a brand new Corvette and went drag racing at one in the morning?” he chuckles, “Yeah. It was stupid, I know, but I was just angry, I guess. I dunno what I was feeling, but it wasn’t good.”

You nod, wrapping both of your hands around his now and offering him a warm smile. He smiles back, just for a moment. “That’s what the tickets are for, actually. The wedding.”

“They’re getting married in France?” you question, to which he nods, “On the first? Isn’t that a little short notice to plan a wedding?”

“I think you’re underestimating the power of Carla Jaeger,” he chuckles, “Apparently, it’s been in the works for a few months now. He proposed with fireworks or some shit. Said she wanted to tell me in person, though.”

“This ticket is for next week,” you say, rereading the dates on the papers. “The wedding is three weeks from now.”

“Well, I kind of figured we could take a little vacation before then,” he grins, “I texted most of the boys earlier, and they can probably come to the wedding, but I want to spend some time with you before it gets hectic, you know? Consider it an end of the semester present.”

Your eyes flicker down to your hand, still wrapped around Eren’s, when he starts to trace circles into your skin, “I thought I just told you, you can’t jet us off to Europe to fix things.”

“You did,” he hums, “And I know I can’t—I’m not trying to, I just… Truthfully, I reserved the plane and the hotel a few weeks back and it really was just going to be a surprise for us—well, more like a gift for you because I know you’ve been busting your ass in chem—but then… everything else happened, and I think a break sounds perfect before I watch my mom get married for the sixth time.”

You watch him continue to toy with your hands for a while, processing your conversation. It was typical of Eren to surprise you like this, so you can’t figure out why this particular present leaves you feeling warmer than usual.

“You sure you don’t need a break from me?”

Eren beams and takes the opportunity to lace your fingers together. “Nah, you’re annoying, but not Jean level annoying.”

You scoff, “I’m telling him you said that.”

“It’ll sound better coming from you, anyway,” he shrugs, “Besides, I might just murder Mitchell if you’re not there with me.”

You chuckle, on the verge of accepting his proposal, but the mention of Jean prompts another thought to cross through your mind. “I’d love to, but I… I don’t know. I don’t want Armin to spend the first few weeks of winter break here all alone.”

This Christmas would mark one year since Armin had seen, or even talked to, any of his immediate family members, with the exception of Erwin.

Last year, you all tried to salvage the damage by sticking around so, at the very least, he didn’t have to feel alone. You and your friends decided that Armin ought to be celebrated, not ostracized for any aspect of himself, so you all chipped in for a cute, impromptu trip to the Catskills so that everyone could be together and close to home.

This year, however, there seemed to be quite a few conflicts of interest. Even if Armin was one of the boys who was planning on attending the wedding, you doubt he had plans leading up to it. You know that Marco, Bertholdt, Mikasa, and Jean had invited him to go to Aspen with them, but Armin declined the offer. Similarly, Connie, Sasha, Annie, Reiner, and Ymir would be off to Dubai as soon as classes ended; an invitation Armin had also turned down.

You weren’t sure what Erwin’s plans were, though you’re certain they involved his own friends in some way or another. At the very least, it was unlikely that he would leave his younger brother completely stranded over the break; but you didn’t want to make plans without knowing Armin wouldn’t be alone.

“He won’t, actually he’ll be closer than you think,” Eren reassures you, “Hange and Moblit wanted to go skiing anyways, so Erwin is taking all of them to the Alps instead of Aspen. Armin doesn’t know yet, but he’s going with them.”

“Shouldn’t Erwin spend his break campaigning, and not skiing? Last I checked, he wasn’t too popular in Queens”

“Ah, you know Erwin,” Eren shrugs, “He has a way of making people devote themselves to him. He’ll win the election with or without campaigning, trust me—the point is, that little baby Armin will be safe and sound under Erwin’s protection, and you don’t have to worry about him.”

“How come you get to call him a baby?”

“Because I’m a hypocritical asshole who doesn’t deserve you, but is hoping you’ll come with me anyway.”

Eren smirks, but there’s a genuine undertone to his words as he moves his fingers to toy with the ring around your pointer finger. The same one he gave to you two Christmases ago. Well, kind of.

The ring he originally gifted you was a Harry Winston piece, with an encrusted band that wrapped into two sunflowers, both made of classic, white diamonds with emeralds sparkling in the center. After seeing the design, and the price tag, you demanded that he take it back, or at the very least, get it sized to fit on your index finger or thumb so that people didn’t get the wrong idea.

Instead, he came back with a simple, silver chain for the original ring to hang from, and the current ring on your finger; a rose gold band with tiny diamonds studded around it. Likely equally as expensive, but more appropriate according to you.

“Fine. But you have to be on your best behavior,” you agree, paying no mind to Eren’s thumb twirling your jewelry, “Do you promise me no drag racing or antics of any sort while we’re there?”

Eren shakes his head at the memory, eyeing the first ring that sits against your chest.

He smiles. “I do.”

The afternoon after your last exam, you bid the remainder of your friends goodbye, grab your bags, and hop on a plane with Eren. It arrives in Paris, but you’re rerouted off to Nice before you can so much as blink at the Eiffel tower; you’d be staying there for the two and half weeks leading up to the wedding, in a small villa.

You had to hand it to him, Eren really outdid himself. It’s dark and nearing three in the morning when you arrive, but even in your sleepy stupor you can admire your accommodations. The villa is secluded, the perfect distance from the water, and decorated lavishly almost to your exact liking. You wouldn’t be surprised if Eren sprung it on you that he’d bought the place, and wasn’t merely renting it for this vacation.

Every day after that, Eren proves he was honest in his intentions of this being a getaway gift to you. He’s planned every activity under the sun—from hot air balloon rides, to helicopter tours, to jet-skiing. The days are certainly fun and filled with beautiful memories, but there’s something special about Nice at sunset; something about the sound of gentle waves brushing up against the beach, and the spotlights carved from sun-cast shadows on the buildings.

It’s just after dinner time, bordering on your eighth night here, when you and Eren are walking along the cobblestone streets that border the beach, the length of your sundress flowing every which way with the breeze, and the tail of Eren’s blazer flailing like a cape behind him.

He looks nice tonight, but, truthfully, he always does. He claimed he hadn’t put on the casual green suit because of your outfit, but you swear he was wearing khakis before he saw your dress. The tips of his ears go red when you tease him about it at dinner, but it doesn’t really matter to you; he would have looked good, regardless. Those suits are made for him, after all; tailored to fit perfectly, and designed by his own mother.

The streets tend to settle down after six, locals and tourists retreating indoors or heading to the beach to relax and draw in the evening. Tonight, however, there’s much more commotion than usual on your route.

“Maybe we should take the long way,” you suggest. On the tips of your toes, you realize that there’s some kind of special event happening in the square, filled with lights and music that grows louder with every step you take.

But the crowd and the lights and the smell of food only piques Eren’s interest. “No way—let’s check it out!”

You don’t have the time to refute before his long legs surpass your own stride, headfirst into the sea of people. You can only follow with a smile and a shake of your head. The soft green of his suit jacket serves as your guide as he navigates through the crowd, but the closer you get to the center, the more people there are.

You can feel palms of your hands growing uncomfortably warm as you become hyperaware of just how many people there are. You clutch the end of your dress in your hand, for both practicality and as a sort of comfort mechanism, as you try your best to calm the anxious wave threatening to crash against you.

With a deep breath, you begin to walk again, unaware of Eren’s actions until you physically walk into his hand, long fingers poking at your belly. You hadn’t realized he stopped walking, or that you’d caught up with him, and your eyebrows crinkle when you look down to see Eren’s left hand extended behind him and towards you, palm facing upwards.

He doesn’t say anything, or look back at you at all. Only wraps his larger fingers around yours when he feels the weight of your hand in his, and continues to guide you through the crowd, his pace slower, and hand firm around yours.

The mass of people becomes more spread out when you approach what appears to be the center of the event; and it looks like a party, maybe a wedding of some sort. There’s food and champagne galore, and more than enough happy guests dancing along to upbeat music in the streets.

Eren’s eyes light up as he takes in the scene, “You wanna dance?”

“What—Eren, no!” you refuse, “We cannot crash these people’s party!”

“Why not?” he counters, without a care in the world, “Seems like an open invitation to me! Come on!”

And for the second time that evening, you find yourself being pulled into his schemes; this time in the direction of the open space dubbed dance floor.

You’re both terrible and ostentatious and people start to watch, but it doesn’t matter because you’re smiling too wide and laughing too hard to care. Eren has a way of moving both with and against the music, forcing your body to follow his lead.

He shouts something over the noise, but you don’t have time to register his words before he laces your right hand with his left, and places his right hand on your waist. There’s a blink of confusion for a moment before you’re being swept off your feet and into a dramatic dip. You don’t have time to secure yourself against his shoulders, but Eren does a fine job of supporting you with a single arm against your back.

From what you can tell the song is far from over and the dramatic pose is completely unwarranted, but you and the crowd alike are victim to his charm. You indulge yourself, looking up at him with eyes too fond to memorize every feature of his face in this moment; the way he’s laughing with that big, dumb, wide smile of his that makes his nose crinkle and his eyes light up.

You’re too busy looking at him to hear Eren’s voice calling out to you, or even realize that he’s moved you from your pose to standing back upright. He’s equal parts amused and concerned at the glazed over look in your eyes.

“Hello? Anybody home up there?” he teases, elongating the vowels and squeezing your waist to alert you.

The reminder of his hands on your hips pulls you back to reality, your eyes fluttering down to his arms, then back to his face. It feels stuffy suddenly, too close to function.

“Yea—yeah! Do you wanna get a drink? Yeah, let’s get a drink!” you exclaim, haphazardly pointing and walking towards the food.

You don’t see it, but Eren looks on with glittering eyes, his verbal agreement heard only by himself as you veer towards the buffet. He can still feel your body in his grip, still see the specks of gold in your pupils as he lingers on the back of your silhouette lovingly. And before you can realize, he snaps himself out of it—an out of body experience similar to yours a few moments ago—before catching up with you.

You end up socializing for much longer than intended. Eren makes friends with everyone, to no surprise, and, uncharacteristically, you feel influenced by his actions, and converse with a few people yourself. You let him take the lead, though. Partially because he’s better at it, and partially because you just like listening to him speak French.

“Hey, we should probably get out of here,” he whispers into your ear after waving goodbye to a lovely couple you’d just met, “Before the host of this party realizes we’re miles better than his actual guests.”

You nod with a smile, more than happy to play by his rules for the evening. He offers you his hand again, that same, dopey smile on his face when you take it.

He leads you out of the crowd and back on to the path to your villa, the smell of warm food and sounds of vibrant music growing dull as you venture further from the celebration. It’s much darker than it was when you began your trek back from the restaurant, but beautiful all the same.

Your sandals pad against the wooden dock that leads up the villa, and Eren unlocks the door silently, ushering you inside before entering behind you.

“I know I said I wanted to leave, but I’m not really tired yet,” Eren confesses, pulling his blazer off of his shoulders.

“Me neither,” you say, placing your small wristlet on the table with a shrug, “What do you wanna do though, I’m not—”

“Great!” he cuts you off, smile too big. You narrow your own in suspicion. That tone of voice with that look on his face usually meant something mischievous, at best. “Remember when you said the first time you’d smoke would be with me, and then pranced away and took a bowl from Hange and got high as shit at Moblit’s party?”

“Why does everyone remember Moblit’s party but me!”

“Don’t worry about it,” he chuckles, waving the topic away, “Anyway… Do you wanna smoke now?”

You blink. “I… did you… smuggle weed all the way to France?”

“No, of course not!” he refutes, “…I got it here.”

You scoff, but don’t have the time to question him further before Eren’s tugging on your wrist and pulling you into the bedroom. You take to sitting on your bed while he rummages through his suitcase to retrieve a small, clear jar with several rolled joints inside and a lighter to match.

He shuffles next to you in the bed, mindlessly handing you the lighter while he unscrews the top off the jar. He takes out two of the joints, places one next to the jar on the nightstand, and tucks the other between his teeth. He asks you to hand him the lighter, and you do so wordlessly, distracted by the sight of Eren’s gaze and the blunt poking out his mouth.

“This’ll be fun, yeah?” He reassures you, “Technically, you let Hange take your weed virginity, but I’ll be better.”

“Can you not phrase it like that,” you roll your eyes, “You already took my virginity virginity, don’t be bitter.”

An all too smug grin settles on his features as he recounts the fact. “Besides,” you tack on, “I’ve never done it like this before. So, it’s still a first, kind of.”

Eren cups one hand around the joint, sparking the lighter with the other until it catches fire. He inhales, slow and deliberate, as if he were putting on a show, or a lesson, of sorts, taking the smoke into his lungs and out through his mouth.

You’d gravely miscalculated how attractive Eren would look doing this. Sure, he’s hot, you knew that, but the pronunciation of his jawline when he exhales, and the confidence with which he drags on the blunt is a stark reminder to you. He takes a few more hits, just as slow and sensual as the first, and the room begins to feel warmer.

“Come closer,” be beckons, smoke rolling off of his tongue with every syllable.

You snap yourself out of the haze of your imagination and scoot closer to him. He silently hands you the joint, and it feels heavy between your fingers. At the distance, you take in the smell—pungent and off-putting, but too familiar.

Eventually, you bring it to your lips, careful not to let your tongue press against the tip, and inhale slowly, like you’d seen Eren do before. You do your best to hold the smoke in your lungs for a bit, but seeing as the last time you did this you were amped up on adrenaline and drunk off your ass, the task proves to be much more difficult. It tickles before becoming uncomfortable and you exhale ungracefully, puffs of smoke punctuating your coughs.

Eren watches with a grin, amused at the sight of you fanning the excess smoke away with your nose scrunched in distaste. “You should have warned me you were gonna cough like a bitch.”

“Oh, fuck off,” you whine, trying to hide the hint of a smile creeping onto your face. You hand the blunt back to him, “You’re supposed to teach me, not tease me, asshole.”

Eren pauses his laughter, unsure of what to make of your tone; rushed, a bit embarrassed, but testy. It’s quiet while he stares at you, trying not to let the implication of your words run wild in his mind; but it’s futile when you’re pouting like that, the room is growing foggier, and he’s been semi-hard since you accepted his offer.

“Fine. Watch and learn,” he breathes, words coming out more jagged than he’d intended.

This time, he completely exaggerates every motion; he inhales at a tantalizing pace and flutters his eyes closed while he lets the smoke swish in his mouth, down his throat, and expand into his lungs. He cranes his neck upwards, and purses his lips to let the clouds exit in the streamline that follows the slope of his jaw.

Maybe it’s the drugs getting to you, but your mind is filled with nothing but sheer clouds that aren’t thick enough to block out thoughts of Eren. The weed is unattractive, potent in smell, and all kinds of wrong; yet, everything about him is soft, sultry, and pulls you in.

“Wanna try again, or do you need another lesson?”

You faintly mutter a profanity under your breath. His words end with giggles, a sign the drugs have already begun to take their effect on him, his expression is still smug. You forget Eren knows just how attractive he is. Motherfucker.

“Actually,” he cuts your train of thought, “I have a better idea, come ‘ere.”

Eren beckons you forward again, closing the gap between your legs so that your knees graze each other under the fabric of your clothing while you’re sat next to each other. He leans over, far too close into your personal space, as if to test something; he freezes when his nose is mere inches from your face, a dissatisfied scrunch taking over his features.

He reinstates his hold on your wrist, motioning your body backwards until your back is against the frame of the bed. He hums in approval, positioning himself next to you again, equally as close, but far more comfortable for what he has planned next.

“I’m—I’m gonna try somethin’, okay?” he stutters, the first word mistakenly coming out in broken German, “Just, don’t freak out on me. It’ll be good, promise.”

You nod, unsure of what you’ve just signed off on, but you don’t have time to ask questions. Eren takes another hit, then passes the blunt to his non-dominant hand. He turns to face you, leans forward, and places his free hand on the back of your neck to pull you closer; the expanse of his palm leaving room for his thumb to venture over the bottom half of your cheek.

Eren pulls you in until your lips are millimeters apart, and he can see the pattern of your eyes in beautiful detail. He shifts his hand now so that the majority of it covers your face, the pad of his thumb running across your bottom lip. He applies the perfect amount of pressure to pry your willing mouth open, and then, finally, exhales.

This time, you can taste it. It’s woodsy, and bitter, but the sweet undertones dance on your tongue. This time, there’s more to think about than just the smoke in your lungs; like the burn of Eren’s hand on your neck; the pressure of his thumb against your bottom lip; the proximity of his lips to yours; the look in his eyes.

“Feel good?” he doesn’t bother to pull away before asking, and the words ghost over your lips with the remaining smoke. You nod; he smiles. “Wanna try again?”

You let out a breathy note of affirmation, and then he’s inhaling and exhaling into you, and you welcome him with pried lips and a heavy thumping in your chest. The confidence with which he maneuvers his body and the drugs is nerve-wracking, yet comforting at the same time; he has an expertise and power that intimidates, but compels you to follow.

Together, you finish the first blunt, and Eren lights the second without missing a beat. His hands are more demanding this around; they guide you into submission, and he’s pleased to find that you’re willing to listen.

After the third exhale, you stop focusing on his hands, and more on his lips. After the fourth, you think you might be high—not to the stars as you infamously were during Moblit’s party—but with a comfortable, dull buzz in your head. Everything feels a little fuzzy, out of touch, but you host a burning want for something more, something tangible.

You don’t know it, but Eren feels the same.

After the fifth exhale, Eren pulls away, the blunt a simple stub as he flicks it away onto the night stand, and you miss him being too close. You miss his hands, you miss his warmth, you crave his touch.

“Eren,” you call, unable to think of or see anything but him in the haze. He answers with a strained, “Yeah?” keening towards the sound of your voice, wide eyes flitting all over your face.

It’s too much, too close, too hot. That’s when you cup his jaw, pull him forward, and meld your lips together.

Kissing Eren is painfully familiar, and unnervingly satisfying. It’s certainly not your first kiss with him; and, yet he has a way of making you feel like it is while reminding you of your history. His lips are soft, and they taste like smoke and the chapstick you swear by because he refuses to buy or test out his own.

You pull away too soon, gauging his reaction with blown-out eyes, before dipping forward to have him against you again. Then again, and again, and again, until Eren is tired of your leaving, and his hands are back on your neck.

This kiss is deeper, Eren searching to satisfy the hunger aching inside of him, and you’re happy to comply when his thumb is pressing at your lower lip again. You open your mouth for him and he doesn’t waste a moment, brushing his tongue against yours experimentally, and then flush into your mouth.

He groans when you rake your fingers into his hair, and pulls back with a hissing noise when you scratch at his nape. Large hands move to grip at your waist, and he pulls you into his lap with a concentrated gaze—a brief second for him to admire the sight of you on top of him, before he resumes kissing you. He sucks on your tongue, rolls his past your teeth, and bites on your bottom lip.

You know he relishes in the sounds he elicits from you, and under any normal circumstance, you’re willing to put up a fight with him, but not now. Now, you let him unzip the back of your dress and snake his hands beneath the fabric. The rubbing motions of his hands turn into gripping, gripping into grinding, and eventually, an unfiltered moan slips past your lips when you feel Eren’s erection roll against you.

“Fuck,” he pulls back with a suck of your swollen lip, “You’re so hot.”

Eren quickly switches your positions so that he’s hovering over you. You chuckle lightly underneath him, taking the opportunity to run both your hands through his hair and cradle his head in your hold, “Haven’t done anything yet.”

“I know,” Eren murmurs, dipping his head down to press kisses into your neck, “Still so sexy. So pretty, always.”

Eren bites a hickey into your collar bone, and everywhere he can touch; your neck, your ears, your cheeks, your lips. Your moaning serves as the spark to keep him going, but he’s barely coherent himself the way you keep pulling at his hair and grinding yourself against him. Even through his clothes, you can feel how painfully hard he is.

He barely catches your tongue between his lips when you moan again, sucking harshly before bruising his lips over yours again. His hands are grabby again, finally pulling your dress completely off of your body, leaving it to form a puddle on the ground. They’re back on your as soon as possible, massaging over your tits, and running his index finger over your nipples.

“Eren... Eren, please,” you whimper, chest heaving as you look down at him. He rolls his index finger over your right nipple, with his left hand teasing the other with his thumb. You can’t tell if the look in his eyes is a product of the weed, or just his glassy, borderline predatory stare, but it makes you shiver with pleasure when he wraps his mouth around your nipple and sucks.

“I want you.”

“Want you, too,” Eren hums, pulling back with a thin trail of spit from your breast, before moving to give your left nipple the same treatment, “More than you know.”

You keen to him when he teases his teeth against you, finally having had enough you force him off of you with a tug of his hair. “Then take off your clothes.”

Eren blinks, wide-eyed but glazed all the same. He chuckles lightly, a blush spreading over his cheeks as he nods. He sits back on his knees, pulling his shirt over his head, forgoing undoing the buttons, and pauses briefly with his hands over the zipper of his pants.

“Please tell me you’re not that gone that you forgot how to undo your zipper,” you tease him, chest still heaving from his previous ministrations. Eren smiles, doe-eyed and hazy, and shakes his head.

“No,” he reassures you, finally undoing his zipper and shimmying his pants off his legs, “Was trying to remember what underwear I was wearing. Didn't want it to be embarrassing.”

His honesty makes you laugh, and Eren pauses for a moment to soak it in. Even like this, even with him stumbling over the steps to undress himself, and you almost completely naked in front of him, he can make you smile. There’s something equally sexy and endearing about your giggles; a juxtaposition that makes him want to hug you or kiss you or something in between. And you—you like the look in his eyes even through your giggling; the way he smiles back and blushes and tells you exactly what he’s thinking.

“It’s okay,” you tell him, “Don’t think mine are particularly sexy either.”

Eren hums, shuffling back on to the bed so that he’s between your legs, and leans forward to kiss you again. He still can’t seem to keep his hands off of you, his fingers immediately flying to your underwear and peeling them off your legs, pulling you closer despite the lack of space between your bodies.

“Yeah, doesn’t matter,” Eren echos, tossing the offending item to the side, before cupping your face in his hands, “I’d still wanna fuck you in your granny panties.”

“You wanna fuck me?” you question, eyes sparkling and hopeful.

“Yeah, I do,” Eren can’t help but to smile again, happy and high and drunk on you, too, “Will you let me?”

Your feverish nodding is all it takes for Eren’s mind to go hazy again; clouded with you, you, you. You pull him into a kiss, arching your body into his, and running your hands down the sides of his back. He moans at the feeling, punishing you by nipping at your lower lip and pressing your stomach back to the mattress with his palm.

Your eyes meet his as Eren lines himself up with your cunt, teasing your folds with the head; but it doesn’t take long before he finally pushes in, sheathing himself inside you completely without movement. He waits a minute, whether it’s to make you comfortable, or to gather his own bearings, you’re not sure; but when he’s ready, he flashes you a smile and waits for one in return, before he starts thrusting.

You know Eren’s not gentle; rough whether or not he intends to be by virtue of his size in comparison to you, but you seem to have forgotten just how capable he is of making you lose your senses. He has you gasping, grasping at him at him unintelligibly, feeling full with his cock inside of you.

Eren groans, borderline growls, when he feels you clench around him, when he sees you shaking beneath him. He could do this all; could watch you all day.

“So pretty, the prettiest. Prettiest girl, my favorite girl,” Eren praises, eyes raking up and down your thrashing body, “My favorite fucking girl.”

“You—you, too.”

“Yeah? I’m your favorite, too?” Eren coos, reaching out to guide your arms over your head, the force of his body pinning your hands down; you can hardly gasp before he lacess your fingers together, and gives you a reassuring squeeze.

“Promised you, didn’t I? That I’d be good to you, be on my best behavior,” Eren reminds you, leaning forward.

He eyes your necklace—eyes glued to ring around it—bouncing with your body. He bends his head down to kiss it, bites at the skin near it; a possessive streak overcoming him as the diamonds shine against you. “I said I’d treat you good, always. Meant it.”

He stutters, when you squeeze him back; fingers tightening around his hold, your pussy clenching around his cock. Your whining is insistent, and mixes with Eren’s low moans and guttural noises. Eren doesn’t let up his pace, fucking you fast and deep, and it’s only a matter of time before you feel a knot twisting in your belly.

You attempt to move your arms, searching for a release of the feeling building up inside of you but Eren is strong; stronger than you, and he keeps you in your place. Keeps your arms pinned above you, keeps his palms pressed into yours, keeps his lips hovering above yours, just out of reach.

“Eren,” you call his name through shaky moans.

“Yeah? What, baby?”

“Kiss me.”

And so he does, his lips needy and hungry over yours. Eren fucks you and kisses you through your orgasm, tasting your moans on his tongue in timing with him cumming inside of you. You don’t let up; kissing him lewdly while you both come down from your highs.

“So good,” Eren croons against your lips, down your jaw, into your skin, “So good for me.”

You both moan in chorus when he finally pulls out, Eren’s head laying on your collar, nose nuzzling into your neck. He lets your hands free, and immediately you wrap them around his back, holding him close as you both attempt to catch your breaths.

You don’t know how long you lay there like that, with Eren on top of you, and your thumb rubbing circles into his cheek while he sleeps soundly. Maybe an hour, maybe more, maybe less; but the euphoria of your sex doesn’t quiet seem to fade.

It might last all night, maybe even for the rest of your trip but you don’t mind. You think back to earlier in the evening, when you’d caught his gaze after your dance. The feeling isn’t all that different; warm, and fuzzy, and too much and not enough all at once. It feels good, it feels like Eren.

You hum softly to yourself, careful not to wake up the sleeping boy on your chest, when you realize exactly what these two moments have in common: a rare event in which Eren is still in front of you, steady and stagnant, no running or chasing; and you don’t want to let him go.

Sometimes Eren thinks you act oblivious on purpose just to fuck with him, because there’s absolutely no way you—or any human with a functioning nervous system and social cues—can’t tell that he’s completely, stupidly, and embarrassingly in love with you.

Long gone are his days of trying to deny it or get over it. He realized that sophomore year of high school—almost eight years ago—that no matter where he went, what kind of drug he inhaled, or how hard he tried, you’d be permanently etched into his heart. That doesn’t make it any less exhausting, and, in fact, only makes it more astounding that you haven’t caught on yet. Honestly, Eren’s considered hiring a private psychiatrist just to make nothing’s wrong with you.

Amazingly, the remainder of your vacation continues just like the former half. The only exception being that now you’re in Paris. And that he’s shamelessly coerced you into letting him fuck your brains out on several occasions. But besides that, everything’s chill.

Just two best friends traveling through France together and stopping to fuck in any semi-private location they can find. Just two peas in a pod walking along the Champs Elysées at damn near midnight. Just two best buds with linked arms tasting (see: feeding each other) every macaron flavor they come across while violinists play stupidly romantic, classical music in the background.

He knows he should probably talk to you about it, but for some reason he can’t. Like telling you would make it all too real, and give it a meaning that could so easily be taken away from him; give you a reason to want to leave him. Right now, it’s just a fantasy, and he’s free to keep dreaming, believing that he’s special and worth enough for the affection you’ve shown him.

He doesn’t want to be one in a list of your boyfriends, or fiances, or husbands; he wants to be your only one, and if he can’t be, then he’d rather be stuck to your side as your best friend. At least that way, in someway, he could remain special to you; not a forgotten, ordinary ex of your past.

Though, a best friend who he’s sleeping with regularly and he’s in love with and will always be in love with is starting to sound a lot like a husband to him. At least, the kind of husband he would like to be to you.

You call his name, asking him if he wants to try another sweet. Eren rolls his eyes. What he wants is to fuck you, and marry you, and have you bless his stupid little existence with two runts for kids that look like him but act like you so his life savings don’t run out by the time they’re twelve. But sure, he’ll settle for having you feed him another macaron in the meantime.

“This one tastes just like the coconut one,” he mumbles, chewing his way through the pastry you’d stuffed into his mouth whole.

It’s the seventh bakery you’ve stopped at tonight, and even though Eren’s growing pretty sick of the sugary treats, he’ll walk with you to every damn bakery in Paris tonight if that’s what you want.

He blinks at the thought. He’s so lovesick it’s disgusting. And he wouldn’t do a damn thing to change it.

“That’s probably because it’s almond and coconut flavored,” you say, wiping the stickiness from your fingers onto a napkin.

“I didn’t taste any almonds.”

“I don’t even think you could spell almond, much less tell me what they taste like.”

Eren simply pouts in refute, leaving you giggling at his expression. He doesn’t know if it’s possible, but you seem even prettier in Paris than in Nice. But, that’s probably his rose-colored glasses speaking.

“You think there’ll be macarons at the reception?” you question, biting into yet another pistachio flavored treat, “And if not, would it be rude to bring my own?”

He chuckles. “Yes, babe, I’m sure there will be macarons there.”

He’s always loved Paris, even when his mom moved away here and left him in New York, and he’d always loved it more when you’re with him. He feared that having to attend another, what he considered to be wasteful, wedding in arguably one of his favorite places in the world would leave a bitter taste in his mouth; but, thankfully, he’s only fallen deeper in love since being here.

“You sure you won’t be sick of them by tomorrow?” he asks, watching you debate between taste testing another variation of vanilla bean or rosé.

“How could I get sick of them?” you answer offhandedly, not sparing him a glance away as you choose the pink snack. How could he get sick of you.

“By the time we get back to New York you’ll have forgotten all about them,” he scoffs.

“Don’t worry I’ll quit it soon. I’ll have to eat something solid if I wanna take my meds and go to bed,” you spew with a smile, unaware of what you’ve actually just said, “But they are delicious and I have no regrets.”

Eren pauses. Then so do you, mouth stuffed with sickly sweet.

“I mean—”

“I know, you know,” he cuts you off, “About the meds and stuff.”

You look like you could pass out, or scream, or cry, or everything in between. Eren figures saying more is better than saying less, so he continues.

“I saw a bottle in the bathroom a few months ago,” he admits shyly, but careful about his tone, “Didn’t understand half the words on the label, but it had your name on it so I just, uh… Googled it.”

Of course he knows. Eren’s always kind of known, just never had the words to express it. He imagines that’s what you’re feeling right now.

“Oh,” you finally gape, “Why didn’t you, um… you know, like, say… anything?”

“It seemed like your secret to tell,” Eren shrugs, features softening out, “Besides, I figured you’d tell me when you wanted to.”

Eren’s always been better at showing than saying, anyway. He hopes that his actions, small as they may seem, might have provided you with any sort of comfort in the past few months. Maybe even before that, too.

“Oh,” you repeat, continually blinking at him, “That’s… that’s it? You’re cool with it?”

Now it’s Eren’s turn to blink. “What do you mean am I cool with it? They’re your meds.”

“Yeah, but like… you’re not mad I didn’t tell—”

“Of course I’m not mad,” he cuts you off with a soft smile, “It’s not really my business. I mean, like, you’re my business because I care about you, but you have your own private stuff, too, which is cool. Besides, when I was, uh, researching it, I learned that it can be hard to tell people stuff like that even if—”

Eren shuts up when he feels your weight against him and your arms wrapped around him. Shell shocked, he takes a moment to hug you back, and slowly comes to rest his chin atop your head after leaving a flurry of kisses.

“You didn’t have to look it up or do any kind of research, you know,” you mumble softly into his jacket. Eren borderline chortles, but only hugs you more tightly.

“Of course I did. If not for you, then for myself, because I meant it when I said I’d never seen half the words on the prescription before in my life,” he replies, heart glowing at the sound of your small chuckles.

He’s expecting an equally witty response, but you surprise him when you pull back just enough to face him, a hazy smile on your face. “You’re amazing, Eren.”

Don’t blush, fool. Don’t blush, fool. Don’t blush—fucking idiot.

“Yeah, I’m pretty great,” he boasts, leaning back into the coolest pose he could muster up while ignoring the growing heat creeping up his neck. It’s all in vain as you reach over to playfully tug at one of his ears.

He thinks you’re pretty like this. All the time, but most notably when he has you in his arms. So pretty, that he has to lean forward to kiss you; you don’t seem to mind, if the way you smile into the kiss is any indication of your feelings. Eren finds himself mirroring your grin; moving his arms from around your waist to the sides of your face.

The workers in this poor little café probably hate the two of you, but he doesn’t fucking care. He’s got his favorite girl in his arms right now, and you taste like almonds and coconuts and like the love of his life.

And he should tell you. Eren wants to tell you, and he finds himself wondering if those same intrusive, fearful thoughts were part of the driving force behind your own reason to keep your secrets from him.

You pull away from him, hands lightly draped around his neck, and you smile like you’re shy—like he hasn’t known you your whole life. Still, Eren finds himself smiling back; and thinks that if you were brave enough to tell him how you were feeling, then he should do the same.

“(_____), I… I gotta tell you something,” he starts, voice soft as his fingers curl around your waist a little more tightly, “Though, I’m kind of hoping you already know.”

You blink at him, almost innocently. Eren bites the inside of his jaw; you’re going to have to stop doing that before he jumps you again.

Better now than never, he supposes. He tries to shake his nerves when he takes your hands in his, completely covering them with his palms, and closes his eyes. Despite that, you try to offer him comfort, squeezing his fingers as best you can; and Eren takes that moment to thank his lucky stars for whoever decided to put you in his life. Because he knows that no matter what, even if he royally fucks this up, you’ll find some way to be there for him.

He slowly blinks his eyes open again, gaze resting on the ring around your neck. A faded chuckle escapes his lips when looks at it. The only one who got the wrong idea about his gift was you. But, he supposes that’s his fault; he never did explain it, after all.

“It’s nothing… It’s just that, I’m in—”

But Eren’s startled by a voice that makes him freeze. He almost wants to believe he misheard it, but he can hear the telltale clacking of vintage heels on the floor of the bakery and he knows that he didn’t mishear a thing.

Eren turns his head, and sure enough, there is his mother, in all her five foot glory, adorned in designer clothing from her beret to her shoes. With a fucking street urchin on her arm.

“Well, well, well, what a lovely surprise,” Carla beams, red lipstick perfectly in place even after a long day of wear.

Eren’s eyebrows draw together, as he takes in his mother and her fiancé standing in front of him. He can just barely register you calling out towards her, carefully maneuvering yourself off of his lap, and into the neighboring chair; but still keeping your right hand wrapped around his left. He can feel you squeeze it—whether to give him comfort, or warning, he’s not sure yet; probably both.

“It’s so good to see you!” you beam, excitedly offering her and Mitchell a seat across from the two of you at the table. Eren opens his mouth to refute, but you squeeze his hand again; a warning.

Carla leans forward to encase you in a hug, exchanging cheek kisses, and leaving Eren to stare at the street rat across from him. Mitchell seems to know better than to make eye contact with him, irises scattering from Carla’s back to the décor of the bakery while the two girls catch up.

“We missed you at the rehearsal dinner on Sunday,” Carla recounts, eyes fluttering to Eren’s briefly. One look into her son’s eyes, and she understands why; one look into his mother’s eyes, and Eren knows she has him all figured out. “I was worried you might not show at all.”

Eren strategically averts your gaze when you turn your head towards him, choosing to look at his mother instead.

“I didn’t even know there was a rehearsal dinner,” you tell her, tone polite, but Eren can hear the clear jab directed towards him, “I’m sorry, I—we would have gone, otherwise.”

“No need to apologize, darling,” Carla smiles, “I’m sure you two were very busy.”

“We were,” Eren cuts in, words definite. He sees a hint of surprise flash in his mother’s eyes briefly, expertly covered up with her sweet demeanor. She only nods in understanding, sitting back a bit to wrap her arm around Mitchell’s.

“What are you even doing here, Ma?” Eren questions, even as you do the same with his hands under the table, “Isn’t it bad luck to see the groom before the wedding.”

“After the third or fourth wedding, you grow tired of pleasantries and superstitions, my love,” she replies, “This place makes Mitchell’s favorite macarons, we thought we’d share a few before the big day. Maybe get some tea as a pre-celebration.”

The topic of sweets has you speaking up once again, engaging both his mother and Mitchell in a discussion about them, and your other findings from bakery hopping earlier. If Eren didn’t love you to pieces, he would have left the table a long time ago.

It carries on much longer than he can bear to endure; almost an hour of you, and his mother, and Mitchell making pleasant conversation while he tries his best not to brood beside you, but it’s futile. He feels like a little kid again. Stuck at the dinner table with his mother and a man he was being forced to get to know, only for him to become a stranger to him in a matter of months.

Eren grinds his teeth into each other when you laugh at something Mitchell says. He’s not going to sit through his any longer; or ever again.

“Well, this has been fun,” Eren says, voice blatantly monotonous as his cuts through the conversation, “But we should all probably head back go to bed. Big day tomorrow.”

“Eren, we should—” but, he stands up quickly, hand wrapping around yours to force you upwards too.

He doesn’t care to look at you, knowing the dissatisfied expression he’ll be met with. He fishes for his wallet and pulls out too many Euros, neatly tucking them under an unused knife to pay for the meal.

Eren’s steps out from between his chair and the table. “We’ll see you guys tomorr—” But is stopped before he can take three steps away.

His mother’s hand wrapped around his wrist. She stands, significantly shorter than Eren’s full height. “Actually, Eren, could I borrow you for a bit?”

And he doesn’t want to, because he knows exactly the conversation waiting for him. But he looks down at her, lets his eyes flicker to you, and back to her, and he knows he doesn’t have the heart to walk away. Not even if he tried.

He sighs with a shallow nod. He can feel your hand on his shoulder, the proud smile on your lips when you tell him that you’ll meet him back at your hotel. Mitchell ensures him and Carla that he’ll make sure you get back safely, and Eren still can’t stand the guy, but he’s grateful that he can at least be of use for something.

Eren kisses you on the forehead briefly, a promise to you and himself that he’ll finish his confession later. After all, he probably should come to terms with the woman who taught him what love is before he vowed to love you for the rest of his life.

The walk to his mother’s hotel is silent, Eren choosing to keep to himself, hands stuffed in his pockets to prevent his mom from holding them. He’s probably acting like a child, but isn’t that what he is to her; isn’t that she treats him as.

“Look, Ma, you don’t need my approval to marry him,” Eren grumbles, when they finally exit the elevator into the hotel room, “It doesn’t matter to me.”

“Of course I don’t,” Carla offers him a small grin, even if he won’t look at her directly, “But it matters to me.”

“Why does it matter now? It didn’t matter with Keith, or Henry, or Henri with an I, or any of the others,” Eren mumbles, reluctantly taking a seat on the stool opposite the vanity.

His mother tracks his movements with soft eyes and an amused grin as Eren absentmindedly bends a knee and begins to fiddle with the hem of his pants. Just like he used to when he was upset as a child.

“It mattered then, too, Eren,” she tells him, sitting on the stool and facing him.

He’s surprised by her words, his wide eyes giving him away even if he attempts to act unfazed. “It didn’t seem like it.”

Carla opens her mouth to speak, but closes it, words stuck in her throat. She watches Eren’s hunched figure, her tall son not even bothering to look her in the eyes. She exhales slowly; if he were five feet smaller, he’d have tucked himself under her arm, still refusing to look at her, but he’d have snuggled his head into her side while he pouted anyway.

“I suppose it didn’t,” she admits, “In the end, the love wasn’t enough to make it last, then.”

Eren is quiet for a bit at that, pulling at his pants leg. “And… and you love him enough, now?”

“It’s more than love, Eren. It’s... happiness—for yourself and another person—it’s being okay with somebody knowing you now, and forever. Whichever version of you that is.”

“Then why did you marry them before?” Eren asks, “If you knew it wasn’t enough, if you knew it was just going to end up as another big mistake.”

“Maybe the marriages were a mistake, and some of what came with them, but I don’t think the feelings were,” Carla muses, “Love is never wasted.”

“How can you say that?” Eren questions, disbelief and exasperation painted on his face, “Of course it is—you wasted your time, and your money, and your—your everything on those people who couldn’t care less about you now!”

“Eren—”

“You let them into our house,” Eren speaks over her, “You let them into your life, and they left. They always left—”

“Eren—”

“—And you even let some of them come back! Everyone, you let everyone have another chance, another anniversary, another wedding,” He’s ranting, crying, hot, irrational tears streaming down his face; hiccups interrupting his speech, “So—so, so if it’s not wasted and everyone gets another chance and another chance and another chance—why didn’t he come back, huh? For his?”

Eren’s standing now, arms flailing every which way during his breakdown, but his mother doesn’t try to stop him. She lets him continue, hears him out.

“If it’s love—if it’s not wasted, and it’s real—then why didn’t he come back? Why didn’t he want to? Why—why didn’t he want me? Why did I end up the bastard?”

Eren looks his mother in the eyes for the first time in the duration of their conversation with that final question; with his vision blurry, and chest heaving, and cheeks wet. Carla has no words to say; can only carefully open her arms, and wait for her son to come crashing into them. And he does; and it rains and pours, and Eren holds onto his mother for dear life, and onto the pieces of her breaking heart.

“Am I not good enough to have that kind of love?” Eren asks through tears, “Am I not special enough to want to know?”

“Eren,” she finally speaks, moving to cradle his head in her hands, “You don’t have to be special or good, to be known or loved. It’s enough that you were born. That’s enough to make you deserving of love.”

She doesn’t mind the tears against her palms or the hiccups of Eren’s breathing, “And you already have it.”

And Eren looks at her with eyes wide and wild like a child, staring at the first person to have ever loved someone as messed up, and plain, and ordinary as him; and he can feel more tears bubbling at his eyes.

“Ma, I’m—I’m so sorry,” he chokes out, wrapping his arms around her even tighter, chin resting on her shoulder while his shake through his tears, “I’m so fucking sorry.”

Carla hugs her son as close as she can, like he’s five years old and the apple of her eye and she can take all his pain away. “You don’t have to be. You’re my son, and I’ll love you always.”

It feels like they have all the time in the world like that, to hug and cry and apologize; but Carla hopes Eren knows that he was always forgiven; that he never had anything to apologize for in the first place.

“She loves you, too, baby,” she coos, holding Eren as tight as possible, “But you have to let her know that. That you accept it.”

“Do you think she knows?” Eren asks, words muffled into the fabric of her clothing, “That I love her, too?”

“I do,” Carla confirms, pulling away to look at Eren in the eyes; his beautiful, shining, green eyes, “But I don’t think that either of you really realized it. I mean, you did give her an engagement ring, darling.”

Eren huffs at the memory, “She thought it was a gift.”

“Because you gave it to her as a gift.”

“I thought it was pretty obvious.”

“Love has a way of making people blind,” Carla muses, “Especially two lovesick semi-adults with too much money on their hands.”

Eren’s cheeks grow pink at the accusation, “It’s your money!”

“Yes, and I’m very happy to have it,” Carla chuckles, motioning for Eren to stand up. He does, and she looks up at him with glimmering, proud eyes. “Now, go, shoo. You have a girl to propose to, don’t you? There might be two Jaeger weddings this weekend.”

Eren nods, certain of himself for the first time in a while. He turns on his heel with a vigor igniting his footsteps, but pauses when he reaches the elevator. He makes a sharp turn, running back to his mom one last time, and squeezing her suddenly, and tightly against him.

“I love you, mom,” he says; the words too foreign on his tongue, and he vows to not let them be a stranger to his vocabulary from here on out.

“I love, you, too, Eren,” Carla calmly wraps her arms around her son one last time, “And I always will.”

You half-expected your walk back to your hotel with Mitchell to be painfully awkward, but he proves to be a pleasant conversationalist, even in Carla’s absence.

You know that Eren isn’t fond of him, but you wish that he would at least give him a chance. There’s no way to know if a marriage—if any relationship—will last forever, but, sometimes, you think it’s not about knowing about forever; but, rather about wanting it to make it there; about willing to go the distance with that person.

You can see that want, that willingness that works alongside love in Mitchell and Carla’s relationship, that stands out from her past marriages. You get the feeling they’re going to last; and that, most importantly, they both want it to, too.

It’s quiet out as you both walk the streets of Paris, Mitchell taking the time to point out small notes in architecture that interest you. You readjust your jacket as a gust of wind washes over you, careful to make sure your necklace doesn’t snag against your clothing.

“That’s a beautiful ring,” he calls to you gently.

“Thank you,” Surprised, you quickly let out an embarrassed cough, looking down to your left hand resting atop the uppermost button on your coat. “It was a gift.”

“I meant that one,” Mitchell corrects, carefully gesturing to his own neck to indicate that he was talking about the ring on your necklace, and not the one on your finger.

“Oh, thank you,” you repeat, “That one was actually a gift, too.”

The older man hums, continuing your walk to your hotel. “Must have been one hell of a gift. I don’t know many people who give out engagement rings as presents.”

“Oh, no, no, no, it wasn’t—it’s not an engagement ring,” you tell him, feeling a warmth creep up your cheeks even in the chilly atmosphere of the night, “Eren gave it to me, actually, a few years ago—it was a Christmas gift.”

“Eren, huh?” Mitchell smiles fondly, “That makes sense. Carla tells me how much he cares about you.”

“You—she does?” you stutter. Mitchell nods. “I—I mean, I care about him, too.”

“Enough to accept an engagement ring from him, it seems,” Mitchell taunts, “I’m no specialist, but I know a Harry Winston piece when I see it. They’re not cheap.”

“Trust me, I know,” you scoff, “I almost killed him when I saw how much he spent on it.”

“And you took it, anyway?”

“Well, he—he was supposed to return it,” you defend yourself, “Because I didn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea! But he just, well, he gave me the other one instead, so I wear that one on my hand.”

Mitchell pauses, just as you both stand to the entrance of your hotel. “And what was the wrong idea you didn’t want people getting.”

“That... that...,” you pause, thinking back to that Christmas day.

Even though Eren is known for spending ludacris amounts of money, the ring came as a genuine surprise to you. A couple thousand on shoes, sure—you’re victim to that yourself; a couple hundred thousand on a lavish vacation wasn’t out of the ordinary, either; but a million, maybe even more, on a ring that you could have only ever asked of him in your dreams was another thing completely.

And, sure, even a few million didn’t mean much to you or Eren at the end of the day, but it wasn’t just the price; it was the object of the money, too. To accept a house, or a car, or a jet for that amount is something you could rationalize; but a ring seemed foreign, and far out of your league.

Then there was the display and value it held beyond money. It’s beautiful, gorgeous, but more than that, it’s tailored to your exact liking. The synthesis of your aesthetic and everything you could ask for, garnished with the memory of Eren in the very design; the diamonds you love, the flowers that remind him of you, and the way they stems wrap around each other and the petals meet in the middle.

A small gasp leaves your lips and instinctively, you reach to clutch the ring in your hold. There was no way this was an engagement ring... Eren hadn’t proposed to you when he gave it to you—in fact, he was so casual about it, that it had you stunned that he hadn’t thought to consider that other people might think it meant something more than what he intended it to be.

But, looking back, it seems like you’re the only one who didn’t understand what was going on. Because Eren told you, even then, that he’d wanted you forever; you didn’t know how to hear him. It was all right there—not just in the ring, but in all his gifts, in the entirety of your friendship.

Eren loves you, more than you could ever know.

“It’s an engagement ring,” you say aloud, but more to yourself than to Mitchell, “Oh my god, it’s an engagement ring.”

Mitchell can’t do anything but smile at your revelation. You’re practically bouncing off the walls, connecting the puzzle pieces of your relationship in the middle of the street at damn near midnight, but you don’t care; because it finally feels right, and it finally, finally all makes sense.

“He, but he never pro—oh my fucking god, I’m going to kill him.”

You feel elated and confused and happy and murderous all at once. Eren wanted to marry you; Eren loved you. He wants you for the rest of his life, and you’ve been too blind to see it this entire time.

Still, you think that maybe a verbal proposal might have helped to open your eyes a bit.

“Mitchell, I have to—”

You’re cut off by the echo of your name coming from the opposite end of the street, and you can just barely make out of Eren’s figure in the faded lights of the street lamps. His name falls from your lips like a whisper, and you hardly register Mitchell’s amused, soft laughter from beside you.

“I think that’s my cue,” he says, patting you on the shoulder, “I better get back to Carla. Something tells me you two have a bit to talk about.”

You can barely nod at him, eye still wide and stunned, but a smile on your face even in your fearful anticipation. You don’t have time to thank him before he turns away, bidding you goodnight; and then you have something else to focus on, as Eren’s footsteps grow louder, and his silhouette grows sharper the closer he gets to you.

He practically crashes into you, chest heaving, hair wind-swept and wild from his running. He puts his hands on your shoulders, to steady himself physically and mentally, labored breaths ghosting over the top of your head.

“Hi,” he finally squeaks; and that stupid, big, dopey grin is on his face.

It’s ridiculous, so utterly ridiculous that you can’t help but greet him back. The two of you stand there, smiling like fools for god knows how long, before the realization strikes you for a second time.

Eren opens his mouth to finally speak, but a pained squeal leaves his lips instead as he feels the back of your hand slap his chest. “Ouch—hey, what was that for!”

“What the hell do you think you were doing proposing to me without telling me?” you screech, packing another punch to his chest for good measure, but it’s a poor barrier and does nothing to stop your tears from falling, “You’re an idiot, I should kill you for this, you know that, Eren Jaeger?”

Eren laughs softly, only to be heard by you in close proximity. He takes your offending hand in his, and reaches for your other, pulling both of them between your bodies. He can feel tears welling in his own eyes, as he looks down at the necklace, glimmering perfectly under the moonlight.

“In my defense, the first thing you told me to do when I gave it to you was to return it.”

“I might not have said that if you told me what it meant,” you can hardly choke out a laugh through your tears; and Eren can’t stop his from falling either, “It’s insane, you know. This whole thing—to ask me to marry you at 19. For me to not realize until we’re 21.”

“I know,” Eren agrees, inching closer even though there’s barely any room between you, “I know. But I know I love you, every version of you. I always have, I always will.”

You close your eyes as Eren’s hands move to your face, gingerly sweeping your tears away from your cheeks. He feels too close, it feels like too much; but you don’t want him to move.

“You know... if you had asked me, then,” you start, blinking your eyes open with a sniffle; you’re met with Eren’s emerald greens one with far too much hope and love glimmering in them, “I—I don’t even know what I would have said.”

“And if I asked you now?”

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, slowly raising your hands to wrap around Eren’s wrist, and lower them to your neck, before looking at him again, “Ask me.”

Eren blinks, carefully trailing his hands up and around your neck, nimble fingers undoing the clasp of your necklace. He hardly lets the chain pool into his hand before it’s tossed aside, and the ring is still between his thumbs and index fingers as he lowers himself on to one knee.

“You are the love of my life, and there’s not a single version of life—a single version of you, or me—where I don’t want to be with you forever,” Eren says, “And you know how shit I am with my words, but I fucking mean it. I swear to you, that I’ll do my best every day to show you how much you mean to me; marry me, and I’ll prove it to you, I swear, I will.”

Your lips are wobbling at Eren’s confession below you, and you can just barely beckon him upwards in your state. He’s hardly back on two feet before you’re pulling him against you, ghosting the word “yes” on his lips before you kiss him.

You both melt into the kiss, Eren’s hands skillfully cupping your cheeks, while he keeps the ring in his hold and bruises your lips together.

“You don’t have to prove it to me, Eren,” you assure him, hand shaking when you pull apart and let him slip the ring onto your finger—where it belongs, “You already have.”

For his first birthday as a married man, Eren requested something intimate. He wanted just a small celebration with all of your mutual friends, some good food, alcohol, and lots of fun.

Supposedly simple and intimate for him entailed renting out the top floor of the Whitney, which was currently encasing an exhibit portraying some kind of abstract modern art that allowed for a very drunk Eren and Armin have to entertain themselves by trying their best to recreate the paintings using very flawed couples aerial yoga.

The art, paired with the dimmed lighting, Jean’s choice selection of overtly sexual music, and Eren’s pick of overpriced champagne also meant that Marco, Bertholdt, Connie, and Sasha found everything ten times funnier than they were—which meant they were a million times louder than usual.

Jean stands next to you by the bar, watching as Eren attempts to hold Armin above his head by holding on to just his waist. They’re unsuccessful, of course, resulting in both boys toppling onto the ground as the majority of their older friends laugh along.

“Lucky me, I get to take him home at the end of the night,” you drawl, turning to the bartender to order another drink.

She smiles, easily preparing your martini and sliding it you with an inquiry. “That’s your boyfriend? The tall one with the brown hair?”

“No,” you sigh, eyes closed for a moment before taking the glass between your fingers. “That’s my husband, unfortunately.”

× even more notes: this fic. is my baby. it’s been a draft of mine for over two years at this point. it’s gone through various fandoms but i’ve never quite been able to complete and post it, so i’m very happy that it’s finally here! i hope you all enjoyed, and i just wanted to say that i’m glad to finally have been able to share this with you all!

#attack on titan #aot x reader #snk x reader #eren x reader #aot imagines #snk imagines #eren smut #eren fluff #levi x reader #I DONT WANNA TALK ABOUT IT

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