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ssweetleaf · 3 months

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dark blue.

tommy shelby x fem!reader

summary: you're finn's girlfriend- and you've always received the same question, what's a good girl like you doing with a boy like him? funnily enough, his older brother thomas wonders the same thing.

includes: SMUT 18+, dom/sub dynamics, age-gap (tommy is in his early 40s, reader early 20s, though it isn't specified), innocence kink/corruption kink, cheating, daddy kink, oral (male rec), throat fucking, cum-eating, based on this ask here

a/n: feedback is always very much appreciated!! <3

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“What’s a good girl like you doin’ with a boy like Finn, eh?”

It was a common saying you'd get from various people over the few months that you'd been seeing a certain Finn Shelby-- you were used to it, the constant stares of disbelief that someone like you, someone so sweet, with pretty dresses and full of radiance would want anything to do with an up-and-coming gangster.

It was love, at least that's what you told yourself.

So after hearing that certain question so many times without batting an eyelid, why did it sound so different when it came from him?

Thomas Shelby. Your boyfriend's older brother. All stoic and dressed to impress and intimidate, a cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth like always, smoking on it without a care in the world whether he was allowed to in a house like yours or not.

He had surprised you, scared the wits out of you-- you were alone in the comfort of your bedroom, sitting at your vanity doing your nightly routine before he had shown up. You hadn't a clue how he'd gotten in, and he was smug about it, the smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth a big indicator.

You stood up, smoothing down your nightgown when it clung to the thickness of your thighs and attempted to make eye contact and stutter out a few words.

"M-Mr Shelby," you breathed, fiddling with your hands when you clasped them in front of you. "What're you doing here?"

Tommy's eyes flicked around your room, taking note of your white walls and plush, pink duvet-- the trinkets scattered along your room all cutesy and girly. Just like you and your stupid nightgown, he thought.

"Came here to properly introduce myself," he spoke, inhaling another drag and exhaling the harsh smoke in your direction.

"But we've already met," your brows furrowed, cocking your head to the side impishly and unsure. "It was the other day, don't you remember?"

"I do," he flicked his tongue over his lips to moisten them, eyes still fixated on you. "but that was far too formal, don't you think, sweetheart?"

An unusual shiver ran along your spine-- sweetheart, you liked the way it sounded, the way he said it. Finn never called you sweetheart.

You nodded, in a foggy daze, staring at him with a somewhat dumb expression on your face.

Tommy cleared his throat and you quickly shook yourself out of your strange stupor.

"Aren't y'gonna invite me to sit?" he asked, eyebrows raised, waiting. "that's what polite girls do, isn't it?"

You were quick to nod your head, pulling out your vanity chair and inviting him to sit, just like he had asked. He sat down, the contrast of his dark exterior with your pretty pink belongings had butterflies fluttering in the pit of your stomach-- a sense that he didn't belong there, but the thrumming between your thighs was obvious that you liked him being there, amongst you, amongst your things.

He stubbed his cigarette out in a little jewellery dish that sat upon your vanity, heart-shaped and porcelain, now covered in grey, smoking ash. You knew better than to chastise him for it.

"You didn't answer my question," he muttered, clasping his hands in front of him, though differently to you, it was in confidence, to intimidate.

You thought about it. Why were you with Finn?

"W-We're in love, sir," you stuttered, not meeting his gaze, your cheeks were on fire.

"You don't look too sure about that, sweetheart," there it was again, that name, a single term going straight to your core, a surge of wetness saturating the cotton of your underwear. "Has he fucked you yet?"

You coughed on your own spit, eyes bulging out of their sockets at his crude question.

"Pardon?" you breathed, exasperated.

His reply was simple.

"You heard me."

"I don't believe that's any of your concern-" he was quick to interject, eyes swarming and dark, consuming you, leaving you to hang your head and cower.

"Finn's my brother," he spoke, "I have the right to know what he gets up to, and I don't want him corrupting a good girl like you just because he thinks he's in love."

You flushed at his words and you decided to answer his previous question, no matter how inappropriate.

"We haven't," your words were soft, quiet, he almost had trouble hearing you.

"Haven't what?" he hid his smirk, he already had you wrapped around his little finger, it was too easy.

"Had sex," you muttered, cheeks searing at your confession.

“Do you want to?” He asked, you stiffened, lashes fluttering and lips opening and closing like a poor fish out of water.

“M-maybe…”

“Come here,” Tommy patted his thigh, signalling you to come closer, to stand between his spread legs and have him look at you much closer. You did as he asked, you were a good girl after all.

“Do you want me to show you what it’s like?” He cooed all condescending and mocking, “Do you want me to show you what big, bad men do to little girls like you?”

“Mr Shelby, what about Finn?” His eyes darkened at the mere mention of his youngest brother.

“Fuck Finn,” he spoke slowly, “you forget about him when I’m talking to you, you understand me?”

You nodded, resting your hands against his shoulders to steady you when he tugged you closer by the frills of your nightgown.

“Yes, Mr Shelby,”

“No, no, none of that,” he shook his head, hands on your hips, thumbs rubbing against your soft, covered skin. “You address me properly.”

You searched your mind for the right term, brows furrowing and lips pouting, trying to think what on earth he wanted you to address him by.

“Come on, sweet girl,” he chuckled, bringing his thumb and forefinger to grip your chin, tugging it from side to side. “I’m your daddy now, isn’t that right?”

You whined, unable to control it, rubbing your thighs together, your walls collapsing and letting your submissive nature come to the forefront.

Thomas Shelby was the devil himself, you were sure— and he was your daddy. Finn had disappeared from your mind completely.

“Yes,” you sighed, all dreamily and cute, leaning into his touch, “yes, daddy.”

His plump lips curved up into a smirk, palm patting at your cheek as if you were a dog, eager for praise-- and you realised that wasn't too far from the truth; just a bitch in heat, eager and ready for her first breeding.

You stared at him, dumbified from those cornflower irises of his, almost hypnotizing, and you were sure you'd comply with anything he'd ask of you.

"What is it, sweetheart?" Tommy could practically see the gears shifting beneath your skull and he raised his brows when you stuttered, a silent 'I'm waiting' when you took far too long to answer him.

"C-Can I have a kiss?" you spoke shyly, thumbing the expensive cotton of his crisp shirt, growing impossibly warmer and not just because of the close proximity. "please?"

You made sure to add your plea, keeping your manners intact, giving him something to be proud of you for.

So innocent, he thought, you really were such a good girl-- something he thought was all just an act to get what you wanted, however with the way you stumbled over your words and fluttered your lashes, more eager for a kiss than anything else- anything more.

Yeah, that was no act.

Tommy fought the smile that ticked at his lips, using his fingers to tip your chin, tugging you closer, closer, closer, until you were a hair's width away. You could feel his lips brush against the skin of your cheek, gently, so uncharacteristic, you didn't think that a man of his status and power could be so sweet on someone.

Though, of course, that's what Tommy Shelby wanted you to think, he wanted you to succumb to the desires that he caused, take you and defile you and leave you wanting no man other than himself. He craved the power imbalance, the sick need to corrupt young, naive little girls like yourself.

Tommy Shelby was not sweet. He was worlds apart from that.

The soft feeling of his lips grew nearer, to your cheek, then to the corner of your mouth, before pecking your lips-- a small spongy kiss, capable of urging a little whine to escape your throat.

He kissed you again, slotting your mouths together, locking your lips one over the other, deepening the kiss and it quickly became heated. Swiping his tongue along your bottom lip, he didn't have the patience to wait for you to open up, instead forcing his prodding tongue inside your mouth, crudely swiping it against yours, sucking it between his lips before running it along the ridges of your teeth.

You didn't think kissing could feel so dirty, so unhinged, but you were rather ashamed to say you liked it. The way his callused hands trailed from your hips to your neck, all the way back down just to take a handful of your behind, squeezing the doughy globes roughly and playing with them as if you were a mere toy.

Tommy pulled away, a long, silver line of spit keeping your lips connected, only breaking apart when he began to speak, pushing at your shoulders and urging you to the carpet.

"On your knees," his voice was raspy, and he cleared his throat, clearly affected by you, by your innocence more like. "gonna teach you how to keep men like me happy."

You instantly obeyed, dropping to your knees and sitting on your haunches, practically purring when he cupped and stroked your cheek.

He eyed you from below him, perched in the space between his knees and he spread them further to let you shuffle closer, your hands on his thighs.

"You're a good little pet, aren't you?" he cooed, swiping his thumb along your chin, "such a good listener, eh?"

You beamed up at him, leaning into his touch and nodding enthusiastically.

"Yes, Daddy," a little giggle pushed past your lips, "for you."

"That's right," he hummed, "just f'me."

You had an idea of what he wanted you to do and you fiddled with his belt in anticipation for his next command.

"You're gonna learn how to properly suck cock," he spoke, "and y'gonna do a fucking good job of it."

Your mouth watered at the prospect of having his cock on your tongue. You sighed dreamily.

"And once I've taught ya, that's gonna be your job from now on-- gonna ease daddy's stress whenever he needs you to."

You nodded, cheeks searing.

"Yes, sir- I'll do anything f'you."

He had you where he wanted you, compliant and ready to yield at his every command. It was too fucking easy, he almost wanted to laugh at your naivety, how unaffected you were by the idea of having another man's cock down your throat, your own boyfriend's brother in fact and Finn hadn't even crossed your mind. Poor, poor Finn, always second best when it came to being compared to Tommy.

You may have been a good girl and did as the older man said, but you were still a whore at heart. His little harlot.

"Come on then, sweetheart, I haven't got all day," he chastised, cocking his head down to his belt that you hadn't unbuckled yet. You had so much left to learn.

You fumbled with the leather that encircled his waist, pulling it through the silver buckle and from the loops before unzipping his fly and pulling his tailored trousers down as far as you could to his thighs.

The bulge in his briefs was prominent and your mouth salivated at the sight, your natural reaction to a sight so delectable, your first cock to suck and it was so big too, you wondered how you'd be able to take him without choking on him. But where was the fun if you weren't?

Your instincts told you to reach out and grab it, so you did just that, palming him through his underwear and feeling the warmth of his shaft jolt and throb against your grip, already hard and you swore you noticed a little wet spot saturating the fabric-- a trick of the light, you thought.

Tommy sucked in a sharp breath, giving you a pointed look, eyebrow raised.

"I'm not 'ere to get teased," he huffed, as if his cock wasn't jumping at the touch of your hand. He took a handful of your hair, tugging it and making your scalp burn. "come on, take it out and get to work."

Your fingers curled under the elastic of his briefs, pulling the fabric down to rest where his trousers were, and the sight had you gawking, eyes as wide as saucers as you took in his pretty appendage.

So thick, littered with blue veins, the colour much akin to the blue of his eyes and you swallowed down all the saliva that pooled under your tongue. His tip was a pretty shade of tan, glistening with beads of pre-cum, slapping against his stomach every time he throbbed.

"I didn't know they could be this pretty," you marvelled, taking hold of it and delicately running your fingers up each prominent vein. Tommy cleared his throat at your unexpected praise, the grip on your hair a lot softer than before, instead of tugging on it, he petted it down softly, watching you watch him.

"Put me in your mouth, darling," you smiled up at him teasingly pouting up at him.

"So impatient," you teased, your confidence rising, before you tightened your grip, puckering your lips around his tip, sucking it as if he were one of your favourite lollipops.

You took him out of your mouth with a soft pop, just to reattach yourself to him, lathering your tongue over his sensitive head, the somewhat salty taste igniting your tastebuds and you hummed around him.

"There y'go, you can take more than that," you hollowed your cheeks at his words, going lower, taking him deeper and slowly you started to bob your head up and down, moaning at his taste and thickness on your tongue.

With a particularly harsh downward thrust of your head, he reached the back of your throat, instantly causing you to gag and you pulled off him, whining and sniffling with tears ebbing over your waterline.

"Good girl," he cooed breathlessly, chest heaving and palms cradling your face, hushing and settling you when you continued to whine out. "Doin' so well, got me a little whore in the making, hm?"

He pushed you back onto his cock, guiding you down, down, down until you were gagging once again, though this time you didn't pull off of him, you couldn't, not with the strength he was using to hold and keep your head down. Your nose brushed against the course thatch of hair that littered his pelvis and you tried to resist gagging at the stupidly large intrusion by breathing steadily through your nose.

You wanted so badly to rise for air, to ease the soreness that started to buzz in your throat, but although this was your first time, a true beginner, he still treated you like one of his most proficient whores. Coughing and spluttering, drool started to slip from your mouth and down your chin, so messy and slick, dripping down the length of your neck, saturating your pink nightgown and settling in the space between your tits.

"Fuck," he groaned, "gonna fuck this little virgin throat, gonna make you choke- doesn't that sound good, sweet girl?"

With the way you sobbed and moaned around him, he took it as a yes, keeping a good, firm grip upon your tresses to bob you up and down as he pleased, thrusting his hips upwards and meeting your mouth in the middle.

You grew light-headed, crude, sloppy sounds filling the air along with your constant gags and you quickly slapped at his thigh, urging him to let you up, to go easy on you and let you catch your breath. He didn't stop, however, didn't even slow down, purposeful in messing with you and teaching you that he was in charge-- he would decide whether you needed to breathe or not.

He chuckled at your vulnerability, stopping his thrusts to to sheath himself deep down your throat and keep you still, just the feeling of you gagging around his shaft was enough to stimulate him.

Eventually, he let you up for breath, marvelling at how you coughed and struggled to catch your breath, your throat feeling entirely abused and sore each time you swallowed. His pretty cock jolted at the sight of you, so messy and whoreish, hair tangled and spit dribbling down your chin.

"Breathe, darling," he cooed, cupping your tear-stained cheeks between his rough palms and pouting at you mockingly, pressing a rather condescending peck to your forehead. "Bein' so good-- almost done, sweetheart, just gotta make daddy cum and then you can rest that lovely throat of yours."

You breathed shakily, settling down on your haunches again and grabbing his slick cock in your grasp.

"Okay, Daddy," you sniffled, such a sweet girl, even with a cock in your hand.

Tommy guided you down, conducting your movements with a thrust and push to your head, keeping you pliant and submerging himself within you, and if your throat felt this good his head reeled at the thought of your pussy-- so tight and virginal, untouched, not even by your curious little fingers.

He'd have all of you soon enough.

You could see his stomach muscles clenching, thighs flexing from under your palms and you hummed around him when you noticed his thrusts growing sloppier.

"Fuck," Tommy groaned, breaths haphazard and shaky, "you ready, sweet girl? You ready to taste Daddy's cum? Y'gonna swallow it all, aren't you, otherwise m'gonna have to force feed it down that pretty throat."

You stared up at him as best as you could, fluttering your lashes, tears spilling and clouding your vision, though you blinked them away, eager to see him, to see the way his face would contort, how beautiful he'd look whilst shooting cum inside your mouth.

One, two, three more thrusts were all it took for him to start convulsing, cock jolting on your tongue and spilling his seed, coating the walls of your constricting throat. He was groaning, moaning out loud, sounds so pretty you had to keep your thighs clenched tight.

"Shit- good girl, such a good little whore, you are."

He continued to ride his orgasm out, until he grew far too over-sensitive, pulling himself out of your mouth and lifting your head up, spent and eyes hooded watching you swallow his seed and hum at the newfound taste-- something you already found yourself becoming addicted to.

"Look," you beamed, still teary-eyed and shaky on your knees, you opened your mouth wide, sticking out your tongue for him to marvel at, completely clean of all traces of his cum, now deep in your belly. "swallowed it all, daddy- just like you said."

Tommy's head started to spin, praising you at how good you had been though he felt strange, heart thumping in his chest at the mere sight of you, he felt soft, a small smile on his face without realising.

He thought you were wrapped tightly around his finger, however he had begun to realise in such a short time it was the complete opposite way around.

#tommy shelby blurb #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby smut #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders smut #cillian murphy blurb #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader

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luverboychris · 2 months

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𝑯𝑨𝑻𝑬 𝑴𝑬 | 𝑴𝑨𝑻𝑻 𝑺𝑻𝑼𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑶𝑳𝑶

IN WHICH.. things become complicated when two friends in the same group like you. one being your secret fuck buddy.

dom!matt x fem reader, secret fuckbuddy — 1.4k words

why were you feeling like this? this god damn feeling arising inside you for the fourth time this week. you weren’t used to it. and you never have felt it before this much, especially towards him. so why was this happening so much recently?

the feeling of jealousy. just seeing a girl by his side made your face go a shade of red you didn’t want to come to terms with.

“y/n baby! come here.” cole shouts. you couldn’t really begin to explain your relationship with this boy. almost dating.. but not quite yet. what was stopping you from dating him?

well you knew the answer. you just didn’t want to say it out loud because the answer was his friend, matt.

you snap your gaze towards cole, seeing him flick his hand out to you with a drink in front of all his friends. and of course a random girl sitting next to matt. who was she? you never felt so vulnerable, as a bunch of male eyes are on you, looking you up and down. you gulp before walking over to him.

cole sitting down on one of the chairs, you standing above him as he wraps his free arm around your waist. “tell the boys the story on how we met, you tell it better than i do.” he laughs.

matt almost burns holes with his eyes as he looks at his friend’s hold on your body. you attempt to swallow your guilt, the guilt of how oblivious the boy was to your attraction to his friend matt. oblivious to how you and matt will fuck whenever you get the chance. in his head, he thinks he’s the reason you know matt but he has it all wrong.. you’ve known him for way longer. you would never tell him though, it would break him.

all of his friends flip their eyes onto you then to their good old friend cole that they care for so much, yet you know damn well matt is only looking at you.

“yeah, please.” matt blurts, “tell us how you two lovebirds met.” he adds. you wanted to completely ignore him but you didn’t want to come off as weird and suspicious. his cocky smirk forming against his drink as his lips grip onto the top of the glass cup.

you hated him. you hated this.

he loved you. and he loved this.

“well.. uh.” you stutter. cole’s grip on your waist tightens. “he was in my english class and he accidentally bumped into me. it was cute, i was a hot mess.. nervous for my exam and he was kind enough to calm me down.”

matt melts into his chair a little, arms crossed with his lips still lingering over his cup as he man spreads his legs. he was starting to act as if he owns the bar. “continue..” matt says.

“after that.. we sat down and he helped me with studying. we talked and talked for hours—”

“then he asked you out?” matt asks.

cole looks up at you to see your response, such innocence absorbing his face. “he asked me out on a date yeah..” you mumble out.

“ah i see.. he took you out on a date. but you’re not dating?” matt questions. you wanted to crawl across the table and punch him with how dumb he was playing in front of everyone. he knew the situation more than anyone, he just loved to tease.

“y/n isn’t ready to date.. but i’ll wait for her i don’t care.” cole jumped in and responded for you. all the friends smile but you catch matt sneakily roll his eyes.

“you’re simping so bad for her man.” matt scoffs, “i hate love, makes me sick to my stomach.” the boys laugh in unison as matt pretends to projectile vomit.

“i mean do you see her? how could i not matt?” cole laughs out.

you watch matt as he begins to look you up and down with his blue sensual eyes, “mhm, i see her.” he whispers out. is everyone blind?!— you thought to yourself. can they not see the sexual tension just roaming through the air coming off of matt right towards you? because you can, and matt definitely knows as well.

he loves how much sexual tension you two have. just the eyes alone that he gives you makes you weak to your knees but you’re good at hiding it, for the most part.

the random girl’s hand sneaks up around matt’s chair and you blink profusely at her flirty positioning. you begin to fidget, taking cole’s hand off your waist causing it to fall to his side.

“um, i’m going to the bathroom.” you blurt out. the table nods at your words and you don’t look back to look at him. you don’t want to give him even a taste of satisfaction from doing that. you knew he would feed off of it, and get excited.

the bathroom still having the music from the bar playing on the speakers in every corner. the bar’s bathroom had no privacy whatsoever.. meaning anyone could come in at any time.

you turn on the faucet and scrub your hands, hoping you can at least wash off just a smidge of jealousy that was steaming off of you. but it was no use.. you still wash your hands with agression as you cuss at yourself. you look at your reflection in the mirror, feeling ever so guilty.

“well hi cole’s girl.” he says, sarcasm laced in his voice. there was matt leaning against the door frame with his hands in the pocket of his black jeans. his car keys dangling from the front right one.

“matt, why’d you follow me?” you say, flipping your gaze off of him and back to yourself in the mirror.

he walks up from behind you, leaning down towards the back of your neck as he goes to remove your hair. he pushes it all to one side, letting your exposed skin be all out on display for him.

“you know why.” he whispers, reaching down to leave a trail of kisses softly down your neck. you feel chills run throughout your body with the gentleness of his lips pressed against your sensitive skin.

“i-i don’t.” you sigh out. you couldn’t help but close your eyes because of every kiss he leaves on your neck. he then starts to let his cold fingertips wander up your unclothed arms.

“baby don’t lie to me.” he says, “you’re thinking about me.” he grabs all your hair, softly pulling it to the other side now as he kisses the skin he hasn’t given attention to, “just like how i’m only thinking about you..” he adds.

“and you want me to fuck the shit out of you like i did last week. i can tell, don’t deny it.” he whispers against your skin.

you feel your face heat up as you open your eyes. you push him off of you, “shut the fuck up matt!” you say. and there he was again with that snarky smile, so confident and dark looking.

a small laugh escapes his lips, “relax.” he says. god, he was such a dick. not only could anyone come in at anytime, he was trying to make you horny and it was working.

“ugh i..” is all you say, sucking on the inside of your mouth with your fists clenching.

“hmm? you what? you hate me?” he teases, coming closer to you. you don’t respond to him, “tell me that you hate me.”

“i hate you.” you say, the words flowing out like a stream. you say it again, over and over. three words that you didn’t actually mean, “i hate you, i hate you, i hate you.”

he reaches down to kiss your babbling lips, kissing you harder as ever. “i hate you.” you breath into his mouth.

“baby.. you love me.” he breaths out.

he reaches his left arm down to your inner thigh and grips onto it tightly, making a moan come out of you. he always does things with his left arm, he knows it gets a rise out of you. the arm filled with all his tattoos.

“let another man touch you like that again..” matt’s lips brush onto yours with each word, “and i will fucking kill them.”

he rubs his ring and middle finger against your underwear. “matt, h-he’s your friend.” you moan out. that sentence makes him rub you with more aggression.

“i don’t give a fuck.” he groans against your lips when he finally can feel how wet you are. “friend or not.. you’re not letting a man wrap his hands around your waist like that in front of me.”

“but you can have a girl have her hands around you?” you snap, the image of the girl’s arm around matts back while he was sitting down started to replay.

“oh shut up. you fucking know i only want you.” he says.

“you have me.” you moan out, as he rubs your clit through your underwear, the thin fabric blocking his touch made the sensation feel so much more intense, “im yours.” you add.

“for someone who hates me, you sure obey me well baby.”

UPDATE: PART 2 IS UP NOW PRESS HERE

─── aid speaks ᝰ.ᐟ ───

╰┈ ⌞₊˚ est. march 9th 2024🗒 ˎˊ˗ ⌝

so im trying a new style lmk if u guys like it. someone requested to do a cheating type fic and i dont write that so i did my own twist wee! i hope i exceeded your expectations, anonymous cutie! i would love to do a part 2 on this so lmk if u want that maybe. i love u guys sm.

tags - @recklessmatt @plasticferal @imwetforyourmom @chr1sgirl4life @mayhem-72 @valeriestromboli @blahbel668 @whicked-hazlatwhore @penelopevonsweets23 @roostersforevergirl @pepsiluvr0209 @breeloveschris @strtuniolo @hearts4chris @matthewsfilmsss @obsessivekniss @st7rnioioss @mattybearnard @ireadstoriss @strawberrysturniolo @gamermattsgf @mattslutt @creamoncreamoncream2 @mattslolita @sturnioloss @alexosllurr @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @robins-scoop @lustfulslxt @sturniololol @eroticsturn @mattybsbitch @septumchris @m4ttslvr @jjmaybankswifes-blog @8blonded @inlovewithmattstur @carolinalikesthings @angelic-sturniolos111 @b2cute @cindylcuwho @st7rnioioss @rootbeerworshiper @ellie-luvsfics @mattsturniolowifey @nicksmainbitch @sstvrnioloo

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo #smut #nick sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #toxic love #Spotify

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waitimcomingtoo · 4 months

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Sugar And Spice

Pairing: Peeta Mellark x reader

Synopsis: Peeta gets jealous when a guy keeps coming into the bakery to flirt with you

Masterlist

“Can you watch the bakery for a second while I frost a cake?”

“I can do it but I have to warn you. I’m super charming so we’re probably gonna get a bunch of customers and sell out immediately.” You said and held up your hands in defense. Peeta couldn’t help but smile as he watched you tie an apron around your waist. Something about you wearing something that had his last name on it made you even more endearing. He knew he shouldn’t be thinking about his best friend like that, but he couldn’t help it.

“I don’t doubt your charm but we haven’t had any customers all day.” He reminded you.

“That’s because you’ve been keeping me in the back. Go frost your cake. This place will be packed when you return. Just watch”. You said and shooed him okay.

“Okay.” He replied sarcastically.

You were only alone in the bakery for a few minutes before someone came in. It was a guy around your age wearing a hard helmet so you could only assume he was a coal miner.

“Hello.” He smiled at you as he walked up the counter.

“Hello.” You replied. “Welcome to Mellark Bakery.”

“Do you guys sell bread?” He asked you.

“Here? At the bakery?” You asked and stepped to the side to give him a full view of all the baskets of bread behind you.

“Okay, it was a dumb question.” He admitted.

“It’s okay. It’s probably the only question you can ask that I could actually answer. I just learned what yeast was a little while ago.”

“Oh, so you don’t usually work here?”

“I don’t. My best friends family owns the place. But his brother gave his mom a cold and then the whole family caught it. I’m just filling in until they’re better.” You explained.

“That’s a shame. I thought I’d have two reasons to come in here now.” The boy said with a coy smile.

“Two reasons?”

“For delicious bread and a chance to see the pretty girl working the counter.” He replied. You raised your eyebrows in surprise at his flirting before smiling. You’d never had a boy flirt with you so boldly so it made you feel good.

“Well, thanks. How can I help you?” You asked him.

“My mother sent me to get that brown bread but I keep forgetting the name of it.”

“Isn’t all bread brown?”

“Well, yes.” He realized. “But she said this one is browner than the others.”

“I actually think I know what you’re talking about. Is it pumpernickel?” You asked and pulled out a loaf of pumpernickel bread.

“Yes! That’s the one. Look at you being smart. I’ll take a loaf of that.” The boy said. You didn’t really like the way he acted like it was shocking you’d say something smart but you didn’t say anything.

“Surely. Anything else I get you?” You asked as you handed him the wrapped up loaf.

“How about your name?” He smiled as he handed you the money.

“It’s Y/n. You?” You said through a nervous laugh. You weren’t entirely sure you liked the attention anymore.

“Hi. I’m Lycan.” He said and extended his hand.

“Nice to meet you, Lycan.” You smiled politely and shook his hand.

“It is nice, isn’t it? Will you be filling in all week?”

“Most likely.” You told him.

“Then I’ll be back. Thanks for the help.” He winked at you just as Peeta came out from the back. He saw the much taller and stronger looking Lycan leaving the bakery and stopped in his tracks.

“No problem.” You called after him. Peeta caught the way Lycan’s eyes lingered on you after he left the shop and he didn’t like it. He got a weird feeling in his stomach when he noticed that you were flustered.

“Who was that?” Peeta asked.

“That was Lycan. And he bought the last loaf of pumpernickel so we knead to make more. And that was a baking pun, by the way. But it would’ve worked better on paper.”

“Oh. Do you always learn the customers names?” Peeta asked as the weird feeling in his stomach grew. He was feeling jealous already and now that he knew you learned that guys name, it was even worse.

“Not always.” You shrugged. “But he asked my name so I asked his.”

“He asked your name? That was nice of him.” Peeta said through a forced smile. He didn’t know why it bothered him so much that you had caught the attention of the attractive stranger. Maybe because you’d caught Peeta’s attention years ago but still hadn’t noticed.

“Yeah. I guess he was nice. He called me pretty.” You said and looked at Peeta as if you were expecting him to disagree with that statement. Peeta clenched his jaw but kept a straight face.

“You are pretty.” He insisted. “Why do you sound so surprised?”

“I don’t know. I guess because no one’s ever just called me pretty before. Except maybe my mother. But I’ve never heard it from a boy. It was kinda, I don’t know, nice.” You said as you stared out the window. Peeta was kicking himself for never vocalizing how beautiful he found you because now you had to cling to the compliment of a stranger.

“I think you’re pretty.” Peeta said quietly. Your head turned to Peeta and you had a surprised smile on your face. Peeta turned a deep red as he waited for your answer.

“You’re pretty pretty yourself, blondie.” You replied as you passed by him. You started to rearrange some of the baked goods but Peeta was still hung up on this stranger who called you pretty.

“Did you like that guy?” Peeta asked you and feared for the answer.

“I don’t know.” You shrugged. “It was nice to be noticed. But I don’t him enough to know if I like him.”

“Right.” He nodded and desperately tried to take his mind off it. You noticed the far off look in Peeta’s eye but didn’t understand what was bothering him.

“So how’s your cake?” You asked.

“Not good. I made the frosting a weird color. Can you go look at it and tell me if I should scrap it or not?”

“Sure. But if you go check on it later and there’s a piece missing, it wasn’t me.” You teased.

“Very funny.” He said sarcastically.

“I know, right?” You laughed and went to the back. Peeta laughed as well but his smile quickly dropped when the door to the bakery opened. Lycan walked back in and Peeta gulped. He’d only seen him through the window before so now he got to see just how tall and handsome this guy was. Peeta nervously fumbled with the tie on his apron and felt a little insecure to be wearing it when this guy was covering in soot and dirt from being down in the mines.

“Hi. How can I help you?” Peeta asked him. Lycan was visibly disappointed to see Peeta there and was ignoring him as he looked around the bakery for you.

“What happened to the girl that was working here just a few minutes ago?” Lycan asked.

“Who’s asking?” Peeta asked without dropping his cheery smile. Lycan looked Peeta up and down and scoffed a little.

“I am.” He replied. “I wanted to ask her where she lives.”

“Why would you want to know that?” Peeta frowned.

“So I could see her again. I was planning on stopping by sometime. I figured she’d like that.” Lycan answered with a smug expression.

“Well I know her well enough to know she wouldn’t want me telling a stranger where she lives so…” Peeta trailed off and let Lycan fill in the blank.

“Hm. You must be the friend she mentioned. I guess I’ll just have to ask her myself. But why don’t you do me a favor and tell her I stopped by?”

“Surely.” Peeta replied. Lycan recognized the same word you had used and narrowed his eyes at Peeta.

“Thanks, baker boy. Bye.” Lycan smirked and left the bakery. Peeta blinked in surprise at the unexpected rude tone. If he was feeling insecure before, he was feeling even worse now that Lycan made it obvious that he looked down on him.

“Who was that?” You asked when you came out from the back.

“No one.” Peeta lied. “How’s the cake?”

“I actually like the grey color. You should leave it as it is.” You told him.

“But it was supposed to be a wedding cake. Won’t the customer be mad?”

“If I was getting married and my cake was baked by you, I wouldn’t care what it looked like because I would already know it was delicious. But you don’t have to worry about that because the cake looked great. Your cakes always look great. You’re the best cake decorator I know. So stop worrying about it.” You said and playfully smacked his chest.

“I’m the only cake decorator you know.” He said with a shy smile.

“That may be true.” You agreed. “But even if I knew more, you’d still be the best. You’re an artist. All your cakes are lovely. I promise.”

“Thanks for saying that.” He blushed. “We can have a grey cake at our wedding then.”

“Oh? Our wedding?” You raised your eyebrows.

“Your wedding.” He quickly corrected. “I meant your wedding. I will make you a grey cake for your wedding.”

“What if my groom wants a white cake?”

“He’ll want whatever you want.” Peeta said confidently.

“What makes you so sure?” You asked skeptically.

“Just a guess.” He said quickly. He wasn’t about to tell you that if he was the groom, you’d get whatever and however many cakes you wanted.

“Well he better. My mother is already on me about finding someone and settling down. That’s all she thinks I’m gonna be apparently. A wife.” You said with a roll of your eyes.

“Oh, yeah? Is there anyone in particular you’re thinking of?” Peeta asked without looking at you.

“I mean, I wouldn’t be against running off and eloping with you to get her off my back.” You joked. Peeta blushed at the joke and hoped there was some truth to it.

“Or maybe I’ll just marry this Lycan guy to shut her up.” You added, making Peeta’s smile drop. He was definitely jealous now and it was only gonna get worse.

The next day, you went to the bakery again and helped Peeta run the shop. He had you handling the customers while he stayed in the back to bake. Even though you had said it as a joke, you actually were bringing in a lot of customers and selling through baked goods fast. Unfortunately, you brought in Peeta’s least favorite customer.

“Oh no.” Peeta said when he saw Lycan through the windows.

“What?” You asked just as the door opened.

“Hello again.” Lycan greeted you and didn’t acknowledge Peeta in any way.

“Oh, hi, Lycan. What can I get for you today?” You asked him.

“How about you get me your favorite thing in the shop?” He asked with that smug look Peeta hated. Peeta rolled his eyes at the lack of manners but held his tongue.

“Well, that’s hard to pick. Peeta bakes everything and it’s all delicious. He’s an amazing baker.” You said and patted Peeta’s back. Peeta and Lycan made eye contact and gave each other tight smiles.

“Oh, so this is your friend who runs the bakery? Did he tell you I stopped by yesterday to see you?” Lycan asked knowing full well Peeta didn’t mention it. You looked at Peeta in surprise and Peeta gave you a sheepish smile.

“Must’ve forgotten to mention that.” He said quietly.

“Right.” You laughed awkwardly. “Well, I love the cinnamon buns Peeta makes. And we just frosted some so I’ll go grab one from the back.”

You went to the back to grab a cinnamon bun, leaving Peeta and Lycan alone together. Peeta kept his eyes down as Lycan stared at him with a smug expression.

“So how come you had her running the shop all alone yesterday?” Lycan asked with judgement in his voice.

“She was fine. She was only alone for a few minutes but she would’ve been perfectly capable of running the shop all day. She’s great at this stuff. She’s better than me and I grew up in this bakery.” Peeta defended you.

“I could tell.” Lycan snorted. “But running a business is no place for a lady. She should’ve been doing the baking while you handled the customers. A girl like that should be able to sit still and look pretty while you man the place, you know what I mean?”

“Um, no, I don’t know what you mean.” Peeta smiled tightly. “She’s not the type to sit still but you wouldn’t know that because you don’t know her. And we “manned”the shop together all day. I just happened to be in the back decorating the cakes when you came in.”

“Oh, so you make all these? Where did you learn how to do that?” Lycan asked with a condescending smile as he looked at the cakes on display.

“My mother taught me.” Peeta said quietly.

“Oh, I see. My mother taught me that a man’s job involves getting your hands dirty but hey, what does she know?” Lycan shrugged.

“Clearly not how to teach her son manners.” Peeta mumbled. You came out from the back and Peeta relaxed.

“Here. One hot cinnamon bun.” You smiled kindly and handed the treat to Lycan.

“Thank you. It looks almost as good as you do.” He said with a much kinder tone than he had given Peeta.

“Oh. Thank you.” You laughed in surprise and looked over at Peeta. Peeta was too busy staring daggers at Lycan to notice.

“See you tomorrow?” Lycan asked you.

“See you then.” You waved as he left the shop. Once he was gone again, Peeta could finally breathe.

“I don’t like that guy.” Peeta shook his head.

“What? Why not? He’s so nice.” You said. As much as Peeta disliked that guy, he wasn’t about to burst your bubble and tell you Lycan had implied you could not and should not run the bakery by yourself.

“He’s too nice.” Peeta insisted. “And I don’t like the way he was looking at you.”

“How was he looking at me?” You frowned.

“The same way every guy looks at you. Only he looks dumb enough to try something.” Peeta mumbled. You let out a laugh and Peeta was confused.

“What?” He wondered.

“Nothing. I’ve just never heard you call someone dumb before. Here I was thinking you were all sunshine and flowers.” You shrugged with an amused smile.

“I can be tough. You don’t think I can be tough?”

“Well, I’m sure you can be. I’ve just never seen it. I’ve only ever seen your good side.”

“I can be tough. I can be a real tough guy.” Peeta insisted but it sounded unnatural coming out of his mouth.

“Okay, tough guy.” You chuckled. “Show me what you got.”

“What do you mean?”

“Say something mean about me.” You said and gestured towards yourself.

“What? I would never do that.” He laughed but meant it.

“I knew it. You’re too sweet. You don’t have a mean bone in your body. You’re all sugar.” You said and squeezed his arm. Peeta blushed at the contact and felt a little better about himself.

“Here’s something mean. That guy just tracked mud all over the floors. Why are coal miners so messy?” He scoffed and grabbed the mop.

“Maybe because they’re in dirty mines all day? Just a thought.” You teased as Peeta cleaned the floor.

“This is just gross.” Peeta huffed. “And did you see his hands? They were filthy.”

“I didn’t notice them.” You shrugged.

“Yeah, cause you were too busy flirting.” Peeta grumbled.

“Flirting?” You laughed. “I was not flirting with that guy.”

“Yes you were. I’ve never seen you bat your eyelashes like that before. And when’s the last time you warmed something up for a customer? You did that to flirt.” He half joked, half meant entirely.

“That wasn’t me flirting. I was just blinking because of all the dust he brought in.” You said simply. Peeta stopped mopping and looked up to see if you were serious.

“You really weren’t flirting with him?” Peeta asked hopefully.

“With a stranger? Who do you think I am?” You scoffed and grabbed the mop from him. You cleaned up the rest of the mud tracks before handing the mop back.

“Okay.” Peeta smiled. “Good.”

“Why’s that good? You didn’t want me to be flirting with him?” You asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Psh. No. I don’t care who you flirt with.” Peeta quickly explained but even he didn’t believe it.

“Don’t you?” You asked and took a step towards him.

“I don’t.” He gulped.

“All right then.” You smiled sadly and went back behind the counter. Peeta looked over at you and wondered if you had wanted him to say that he didn’t want you flirting with anyone else.

The next day, Peeta was hesitant to leave you alone in the bakery in case Lycan came back to ask you out. If he actually made a move on you, Peeta knew he didn’t stand a chance. There weren’t a whole lot of options for dating in your district so if he asked you out, you’d probably say yes. But Peeta couldn’t stay in the front forever and eventually had to go to the back to frost cakes. And as soon as he was gone, the wolves descended.

“Good morning.” Lycan greeted as he came into the bakery. Your heart started to beat faster when he came in but it wasn’t from excitement. His presence was starting to make you anxious and you didn’t know if you liked the attention anymore.

“Good morning. What will it be today?” You asked politely.

“Some more pumpernickel please. But only half a loaf. I had some of my worker friends over last night and we went through it. We just get so hungry being down in the mines all day. You know how real men’s work is. It’s brutal but hey, someone’s gotta do it.” Lycan shrugged and leaned on the counters that you had just cleaned.

“Right.” You said sarcastically. “Anything else?”

“A smile. From you.” Lycan added. You gave him a tight smile back and realized you really didn’t like the attention. At least, not from him.

“Have a great day.” He said as you handed him the loaf and he handed you the money.

“Thanks. You too.”

“I already did. Because I got to see you.” Lycan said and pointed to you. You forced a smile back and watched as he tracked mud on the floor as he left. Peeta came out from the back a little while later and saw the mud.

“I see Lycan returned.” He said stiffly.

“He sure did.” You replied. Peeta rolled his eyes and grabbed the mop before looking at you.

“Don’t give me that look.” You laughed. “It’s not my fault Mr. Muddy Boots keeps coming in here.”

“Yes it is. I heard him telling you to smile. He likes you.” Peeta mumbled and mopped the floor. His jealousy was back and in full force so he kept his head down.

“Maybe he was just being friendly.”

“But he wasn’t being friendly to me. Only you.” Peeta pointed out.

“Okay, true. But that still doesn’t mean anything. He might just want to be friends.”

“No way. No guy wants to be just friends with a girl as interesting and funny as you.”

“What about you? You just want to be friends, don’t you?” You asked and smiled at his words but he didn’t see it. He was too busy keeping his head down so you couldn’t see how much he was blushing over what you asked.

“There. Finally clean. But if he comes in here and gets the floors muddy one more time, I’m gonna ban him from the bakery.” Peeta said to change the subject.

“Maybe he’s had enough of your baked goods and won’t come in anymore.” You shrugged.

“He’ll be back. Although he might stop buying things and just start coming in to stare at you.” Peeta grumbled, making you laugh. When your laughter died down, you thought about what it would mean if this guy actually wanted to be more than friends.

“Do you actually think he likes me?” You asked quietly.

“Of course he does. And I can’t blame him. But I can be annoyed about how often he comes in here.” Peeta said and continued to avoid eye contact with you.

“But him coming in here means you get more customers.” You reminded him. “And what do you mean you can’t blame him?”

“Him coming in here means I have to look at his dumb face while he bumbles around and tries to flirt with you. All while making the bakery muddy. I wouldn’t mind losing him as a customer.” Peeta replied and conveniently ignored the second half of what you said.

“Well we should probably bake another loaf of pumpernickel in case he comes in tomorrow.” You shrugged and started to gather the ingredients. Peeta froze and watched you tie on an apron as jealousy burned a hole inside him.

“What?” You asked when you saw Peeta’s face.

“You want him to come back?” Peeta asked in a soft voice.

“I didn’t say that. But if he does, which I’m assuming he will, we should have bread for him.”

Peeta was quiet again for a minute as he looked at you. He didn’t think you liked this guy back until he watched you gathering ingredients to make something specifically for him.

“Do you, um, do you like him back or something?” Peeta asked you. He didn’t sound angry or anything, just sad.

“What I like is earning money. Which customers bring in. Customers like Lycan.” You said and headed to the back where the oven was.

“Fine. But just don’t bake that with love, okay?” Peeta called after you. He heard you laugh and felt a little better because it reminded him that no one made you laugh quite like he did.

“I’ll try.” You called back.

The next day, Peeta was ready for anything. He asked you to bake some muffins in the back while he dealt with the customers during the evening rush. He had made it through almost the entire day before he saw Lycan coming in to the bakery. He looked around for you as soon as he walked in before walking up the counter.

“How can I help you?” Peeta asked with a forced smile.

“Actually, I was hoping Y/n could help me. She here?” Lycan asked and peered behind the counter.

“She’s busy with the baking in the back.”

“Really? I thought frosting cakes was your job? Tell me, how do you make them look so pretty?” Lycan asked in a mocking tone.

“It takes a steady hand. And a clean one.” Peeta said as his eyes dropped to Lycans dirt covered hands.

“These are workers hands. But you wouldn’t know anything about that would you, baker boy?” Lycan said in a low voice as he leaned on the counter. Peeta gulped but was determined to stand his ground.

“I know about hard work. Just because my work is different from yours doesn’t mean it’s any less important.” He replied.

“Are you serious?” Lycan laughed. “I risk my life everyday to get the coal that you use to bake your pretty little cakes. You’re not important. I mean, your work isn’t important. I know that, and she knows that.” Lycan whispered so only Peeta could hear. His words were getting to Peeta and he wasn’t feeling as confident as before.

“She’d never go for you.” Peeta said quietly.

“What other choice does she have? You?” Lycan scoffed. “I asked around about the two of you, you know. Everyone had the same thing to say. That the bakers boy absolutely adores her but isn’t man enough to do anything about it.”

“I could do something about it.” Peeta insisted.

“Oh really? Then why haven’t you?” Lycan asked him. Peeta opened his mouth to say something but nothing came out. He had no answer to give.

“That’s what I thought.” Lycan snickered. “She’d never go for you either.”

Peeta looked down at the ground and believed what Lycan was saying. You came out from the back and immediately sensed the awkward tension. You first noticed Peeta’s sad expression and then Lycan’s smug smirk.

“Oh, hi Lycan. Back so soon?” You asked as you looked between the boys and tried to figure out what had just happened between them.

“I just needed to get some bread. And seeing your pretty face never hurts.” Lycan said and switched to a nice smile.

“Aw, thanks.” You said with a fake smile.

“You know, being a coal miner is really dangerous. Nothing like the easy job this guy has.” Lycan said and nodded towards Peeta. “When the boys and I go down into the mines, we never know if we’re gonna get to come back out. So I try to take a minute and appreciate the beautiful things in life as much as I can. And that includes you.”

“Aw, thanks.” You repeated in the same uncomfortable tone. Peeta looked up and saw that Lycan was staring at him with a puffed up smile. In other words, he thought he ate that.

“See you around, doll.” Lycan winked at you before leaving the shop.

“That was painful.” You said once he was gone.

“For us both.” Peeta mumbled.

“I think you were right. I think he may be more than just friendly.” You laughed nervously.

“What gave it away?” Peeta smiled sarcastically.

“I just don’t understand what he wants from me. I don’t even know what to say when he talks like that.” You said and grimaced at the memory of his little speech.

“He probably wants a wife. And he wants you to say it can be you.”

“A wife?” You laughed in shock. “He doesn’t even know me.”

“But he wants to. That’s why he keeps coming in here. He probably wanted to ask you out today but wouldn’t with me in here.”

“Well I wouldn’t say yes even if he did. So there’s nothing to worry about.” You shrugged.

“Don’t tell me there’s nothing to worry about.” Peeta snapped. You were both surprised by his tone and stood in awkward silence following his exclamation. Peeta was too embarrassed to look at you so he kept his head down and played with the ties in his apron. He heard your footsteps coming over to him and suddenly, you were lifting his chin to get him to look at you.

“What’s this about?” You asked quietly. Peeta sighed and looked to the side.

“He works in the mines and risks his life. I work in a bakery and decorate cakes. He’s covered in soot and dirt and I end the day covered in flour and sugar.”

“So?” You laughed.

“So, he’s a real man.” Peeta insisted. “And that’s what you deserve.”

“Do you think I don’t see you as a real man?” You asked and wrapped your arms around Peeta’s neck. He turned bright red and finally looked at you.

“Look at me. And look at him. We’re not the same.” Peeta said softly.

“Just because he works down there and you work up here doesn’t make you any less of a man.” You assured him.

“It feels like it does. Especially when…”

“When what?” You asked when Peeta trailed off.

“When I thought you liked him. I assumed he caught your attention because he’s all big and tough and I’m just…soft.” He shrugged and gave you an embarrassed smile.

“He caught my attention because he’s annoying and dirty. And I happen to like that you’re soft.” You told him.

“You do?” Peeta asked skeptically.

“Of course I do. I like that you never have a mean thing to say about anybody. I like that you decorate cakes and smell like cinnamon all the time. And I like that you stop to pick flowers that you like. But you know what I don’t like?”

“What?”

“That guy. I don’t like how he thinks I shouldn’t run the shop by myself. I don’t like how he can’t compliment me on anything but my looks. I don’t like how he thinks his job makes him superior to us. And I don’t like that he made you feel bad about yourself.” You said. Peeta looked into your eyes and saw how serious you were. A smile tugged at his lips as he believed that he didn’t have anything to worry about.

“He made fun of my cake decorating.” Peeta added with a coy smile.

“What? Now that’s too far. Let’s ban him.” You played along. Peeta laughed and pulled you into a hug.

“I never want you to think you’re not good enough ever again, okay?” You said as you rubbed his back.

“Okay.” Peeta reluctantly replied. You pulled out of the hug and rubbed his shoulders.

“If he comes in here again, I’ll tell him to back off. Of both of us.” You assured Peeta.

“Good. Because I’m not much of a fighter.” He said through a relieved laugh.

“I know. You��re a lover. Thats what I love about you.” You told him and went to go clean the counter. Peeta watched you for a minute with a content smile on his face.

“It is?” He asked in a soft voice.

“Amongst other things, but yes.” You replied.

“There are a lot of things I love about you too.” Peeta said without looking at you.

“Are there?” You asked with piqued interest.

“Of course. Dozens of things.”

“Dozens?” You pretended to gasp and looked over at him.

“Uh huh. A bakers dozen.” He replied with a coy smile.

“Hey.” You laughed. “Baking humor is my thing.”

“I know, I know. But I think that’s another reason Lycan bothered me so much. I thought he was gonna take you away before I got a chance to tell you any of them.” Peeta said simply. Your expression changed but he didn’t catch it as he went to change the sign on the door from “open” to “closed”.

“Well. It’s quitting time.” Peeta sighed and looked the front door.

“Right. We should go.”

The next day, Lycan came in bright and early in the morning. He was the first customer and walked in before you had even arrived yet. Peeta gulped when he saw him and hoped you’d get to the bakery as soon as possible. Then he remembered what you had said about what you loved about him and felt a little braver.

“Hey, Peeta. Just you today?” Lycan asked in a condescending voice.

“For now.” Peeta answered calmly.

“These are nice. You pick them yourself?” Lycan asked as he flicked one of the flowers Peeta had in a vase on the counter.

“As a matter of fact, yes. I did.”

“I thought so. Just when I thought you couldn’t get anymore pathetic. It’s no wonder Y/n doesn’t want you.” Lucan snorted. He hadn’t heard you entering the bakery from the back so when you appeared behind the counter where Peeta was, he gulped.

“Oh, hi, Y/n. Good morning.” He said nervously and hoped you hadn’t heard what he just said. You gave Lycan a big smile before turning to Peeta.

“Good morning.” You greeted Peeta before pulling him into a long kiss. Peeta was stiff with shock at first but then kissed you back as his hands found their place on your waist. Lycan watched this with a dropped jaw and angrily cleared his throat when he felt like it was going on too long. You pulled out of the kiss with a big smile and patted Peeta’s red cheek.

“Sorry about that.” You chuckled as you wrapped an arm around Peeta’s shoulders. Peeta and Lycan were both silent as they processed what had happened. You made your choice loud and clear to the both of them and they were both too stunned to speak. Peeta finally smiled and took one of the flowers out of the vase to place behind your ear as a little thank you. You smiled in appreciation before looking at Lycan.

“So.” You shrugged. “What can we get you?”

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chaisshitposts · 7 months

Text

𝐏𝐒𝐘𝐂𝐇-𝐊 / 𝐖𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐄 𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐋𝐈𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐅𝐒 + 𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅-𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆

what is psych-k? •°. *࿐

according to the psych-k frequently asked questions, PSYCH-K, "is a proven and safe way to change subconscious beliefs that perpetuate old habits of thinking and behaving that you would like to change."^1 dumbing it down, you are using psych-k to tap into your subconscious and conscious simultaneously, rewiring your brain with a single affirmation. and while doing this, you may begin to have a rush of negative, limiting thoughts, but instead of pushing them away in frustration, you will invite them in. think of it like this... you are the teacher and your affirmation is a brand-new lecture. you're standing at the front of the room in front of many desks, all filled with 'students' aka your thoughts, emotions, etc. as you are 'lecturing' (repeating this affirmation over and over and over) the 'students' begin to disrupt you with hurtful words or overall trying to debate with your 'lecture'. how do you handle this? you continue to 'lecture', you can continue to listen to your 'students', and eventually, the 'students' will quiet down until there's complete silence and that's when your 'lecture' has started to implement its knowledge into your 'students'.

how does psych-k work? •°. *࿐

"PSYCH-K® is a unique process, having evolved from years of brain research and thousands of sessions with individuals and groups. It creates a receptive, “Whole-Brain State” that dramatically reduces unwanted resistance to change in the subconscious mind. The subconscious can be accessed in a way analogous to a personal computer. PSYCH-K® works as a kind of ‘mental keyboard’ — a user-friendly method of communicating with the subconscious mind that is simple, direct, and verifiable."^2

has there been scientific research on psych k? •°. *࿐

absolutely. if you'd like to read more about this, you can go here and download the various articles and give them a quick read.

how does psych-k differ from other methods as well as other healing techniques such as meditation? •°. *࿐

if you're looking for a thorough answer to this question, feel free to look at this for reference as it better explains the answer to this question in its entirety. the bottom line, however, is that this technique is just as important as others and is not meant to replace any other methods, it is simply another addition. many healing techniques will depend on outside sources of the person, such as a psychologist, hypnotist, or anyone with similar titles. however, psych-k will depend on the inner-workings of those who are performing it, psych-k simply provides the tools and you, the one who is getting into this 'whole brain state' are the one actually doing all of the work. you will be the one taking apart your limiting beliefs and replacing them with whatever you truly desire.

will it benefit me? •°. *࿐

PSYCH-K, "[...] enables you to communicate with your subconscious mind so you can change beliefs that are limiting your self-esteem, relationships, job performance, even your physical health…and much more! PSYCH-K® is popularly characterized as a spiritual process with psychological and physical benefits. While the term “psych” is often used as an abbreviation for “psychology,” in our case it is used as a variant spelling of the word psyche, meaning “mind,” “soul,” or “spirit.” The letter “K” represents the Key to sustainable success."^3

why should i test out the psych method? •°. *࿐

just like anything else, you do not need to try this out, however, what do you have to lose? the results may shock you.

can anyone do the psych-k technique? •°. *࿐

absolutely anyone can do the psych-k, it is not limited to any particular group of people, and it can effect people differently depending on how they use it.

how do i do psych-k? •°. *࿐

there are many videos on YouTube that will provide a visual guide of instructions on how to do it, however, this is the video that I use and I highly recommend that you watch the entire video to get a logical understanding of what's happening (if you prefer logical info like I do). and if you're having trouble figuring out how to position your hands, watch this video as well. I'd also like to mention that if you're unsure of which side of your brain has more resistance to a new belief, set yourself a timer for 5 minutes and do psych-k with your left ankle crossed over your right and your left hand crossed over your right. after the timer goes off, switch your right ankle to cross over your left, and your right hand to cross over your left. a l s o, if you decide to have resistance against this method bc or any method in general (bc you're stubborn perhaps), take the time to do psych-k and affirm that all methods work for you, boom, fuckin' foolproof.

can i use psych-k to manifest anything i desire? •°. *࿐

yes, yes you can, you're changing your beliefs right in the moment, there are no fuckin' limits unless you create those limits for yourself.

can i use psych k to enter the void state? •°. *࿐

yes, you can do anything you want with psych-k. @urgurljodie has a bit more information on this, but, i am aware that they sent an ask to someone and stated that while doing psych-k you should affirm that you're in the void state/in the void etc.

how do i know if I'm doing it right? •°. *࿐

there's no need to overcomplicate this, don't fear the replacement. simply sit down, get into position as instructed in the videos provided above, and follow their words. stay in the psych-k position for as long as needed, repeating your new belief over and over, invite the resistance in, and simply keep thinking this new thought until you no longer feel resistance towards your new belief. you'll know if you did it right, promise. may sound unbelievable at first, but again, what do you have to lose?

can i combine psych-k with the laws of manifestation? •°. *࿐

absolutely, use any affirmations you want.

do i have to do psych k to eliminate limiting beliefs? •°. *࿐

nope! this is simply just another method of sorts, you don't need to try anything you don't want to. no one is forcing this shit down your throat...

notes •°. *࿐

i'd recommend this technique that combines psychology and kinesiology to anyone and everyone who thinks they are struggling to build new beliefs or manifest their dream lives. the worse that could happen is that it doesn't work or it just takes you a little longer to replace the programming in your mind. give it a try and report your results. a l s o, before anyone comes at me i will give proper and due credit to @urgurljodie for bringing light to this technique to the tumblr void community, ya should be thanking them for this. this particular technique has thoroughly pleased the logical and more scientific-based limiting beliefs I've had for a while. this post was simply meant to add onto what's already been established, all due credits go to the developer of the technique of rob williams as well as the tumblr user mentioned above.

references.

all of the quoted information comes from this site.

1. https://psych-k.com/faq/#what

2. https://psych-k.com/faq/#what

3. https://psych-k.com/faq/#what

4. here's some information on muscle testing and psych-k

5. clearer instructions for the correct posture (en)

6. more information on the whole brain state

#law of assumption #law of attraction #void state success #void state #god state #psych k #psych-k #limiting beliefs #manifesting #manifesation #manifestation method #laws of manifestation

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andvenuscried · 1 month

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nerdy!anakin skywalker who’s secretly a freak

requested by poll!

description box; the nerd with the glasses that tutors you turns out to be not so innocent after all. and he looks even more delicious without his glasses.

warning; heavy nsfw warning, mentions of cheating and an affair, porn with a bit of plot, anakin is a total pervert and freakyyyy, smut under the cut!, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!

ANAKIN SKYWALKER IS A nerd, and it’s by default that he doesn’t associate with ‘your kind’.

the popular kind, the pretty kind.

the ones that run around with the football players, the kind of people that have this certain aura that just makes everyone look at them the second they walk into the room.

most of the popular people at your school were known to be arrogant douchebags, unintelligent jerks and vain bitches who thought they were above everyone else. but not you, though.

you were different. you were popular, really uniquely and breathtakingly beautiful, but your heart and soul were just as pretty as you. you also had a jerk of a boyfriend, and you really sucked at mathematics and physics. but luckily for you, your desk mate anakin skywalker, who also happens to sit next to you in physics classes, knows that. and also happens to be a very valued tutor.

“another D?”

anakin’s gaze is deplorable, his lips are pressed together in a pitiful way.

“yeah,” you wince as you examine the big, red D on your paper, “can’t say i didn’t expect it though. i thought the questions were really easy—maybe that should’ve given it away.”

anakin is hesitant, he doesn’t want to upset you—he knows you’ve been called stupid and dumb plenty of times by teachers, but really, he knows you’re not. really, you excel at subjects like history, english or music, you just… need a little tutoring. but he also knows you’re too prideful for that. you’ve never been bad enough at a subject to need tutoring, but you’ve been consistently getting D’s the whole year and there’s nothing anakin can do.

he would’ve let you copy his answers, but the teachers never look away during exams. he wouldn’t have done for just anyone—he would’ve only done it for you.

you’re the kindest person he’s ever met. you probably don’t remember but about four years ago, maybe a little more, he was getting bullied really bad. and not just by anyone, a guy named dylan. he was your boyfriend at the time. and still is. fucking asshole. anakin hated him passionately.

but you’d broken up with him after you’d caught him throwing punches into anakin’s stomach. you had yelled at him, even slapped him, you had taken anakin by the hand and went to the school nurse with him. and you were so kind to him. so sweet. so nice.

honestly, it shouldn’t have come as a surprise when he developed a huge crush on you. but he never confessed, he knew you were out of his league, and not his. especially after your (shitty asshole! anakin would treat you so much better) boyfriend dylan had apologised to him and you in a heartbreaking manner through a big gesture, and you had forgiven him.

ever since, dylan and anakin still give each other dirty glances and nasty glares, but he never laid hand on him again.

anakin would like to describe you and him as friends. you talked to each other in every class you had together, especially physics, because you sat next to each other, and you always greeted each other in the hallways.

but you guys have never hung out together and you’ve never been to his place, or he to yours.

“listen, maybe you… maybe i can study with you.” anakin muttered gently, carefully studying your face expressions as he made his suggestion.

your eyebrows formed into a frown, “you think that’ll help?”

anakin nodded, relieved you weren’t taking this as badly as he’d thought you would, “yeah, sure. i’m a tutor, you know? i can explain stuff pretty well.”

“oh, i wouldn’t want to impose—” you’re quick to deny, you hate bothering people.

fuck, you’re the sweetest person there is. truly an angel sent down from heaven. anakin made up his mind, right there. he would do anything to make you his.

“no, you’re not imposing. i want to. i want to do this for you.” he smiled, but seeing your hesitant face, he added, “besides, we’re friends. isn’t that what friends do for each other?”

a small smile tugged at your lips. “really? you… you’d do that for me? but i really don’t want to be a bother! you’re so smart and clever, you probably have so many tutees and you’re probably so busy—”

anakin would be replaying those words in his mind tonight. non-stop.

“listen, i really don’t mind. it’ll be like us hanging out. ‘kay? you don’t need to worry about it, i’m happy to be at your service.”

you hesitated for a second. and then you smiled, and anakin knew he’d won. “OK, then. it’ll be like a hangout.”

“it’s settled then,” he smirked at you, “my place? tomorrow afternoon?”

you laugh.

“your place, tomorrow afternoon.”

YOU HAD ABSOLUTELY NO idea how you ended up like this. in his bed. in this position. moaning and whimpering his name.

you were on all fours, legs trembling and quivering, your arms weak and the only thing that was holding you up was anakin’s toned arm, hooked under your waist, holding you up firmly as he thrusted into you.

you had never noticed it before, but his arm… looked so… delicious when it was flexed.

“that feel good, darling?” the smirk in his voice is all too evident, he got off on the way you were so fucking responsive to his every touch.

his hands went from caressing your thighs and kneading your ass to playing with your nipples and tugging back your hair.

“haven’t even begun properly fucking you and you’re already so soaked. does your boyfriend not fuck you, darling?”

your mind is nothing but chaos, and your stomach all fuzzy, and the only thing you can do is whine around his cock, writhing underneath him. you nod, you just nod because your boyfriend’s cock doesn’t kiss your cervix like this, your boyfriend’s cock doesn’t fit into your womb so fucking well, because your boyfriend doesn’t make you feel so, so, so good.

“n-need you to go faster…”

he kisses his teeth with his one, making a quiet ‘tsk’ sound. “that’s not very polite, demanding others like that. what’s happened to your manners, angel?”

he’s fucking you agonisingly and painfully slowly from behind, the question papers he brought and physics notes he made for you, just for you, carelessly scattered in front of you. your hands are gripping them as you moan.

“f-fuck, ani—please just… won’t fuck me faster? can’t… can’t, ‘m not—hah—”

“all right, all right, doll,” he replies to you sweetly, bending over next to your ear, still thrusting into so painfully slowly, “only if you admit that you love me more than your boyfriend.”

your eyes widen. “b-but—”

“ah-ah. no buts. say it or i won’t let you cum.”

you loved your boyfriend. you did! but anakin just made you feel so, so good…

“love you more than my boyfriend,” you moan quietly, closing your eyes in shame.

“‘m sorry, what? i didn’t catch that.” he grinned teasingly.

“ani,” you whine, “don’t be like that.”

he laughs. “all right, all right. cum for me, doll.”

author’s note;

i have never written smut like this before. please have mercy on me 😭😭

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heroinnne · 21 days

Text

“so, do you actually like me?”

you ask suddenly, breaking the silence that was between you and miguel in the kitchen as he prepared pancakes for a late night snack.

“come again?” he say sarcastically, flipping the pancake to the other side.

his back is facing you but you can hear the smirk in his tone.

you huff in response, but repeat yourself, “do you actually like me?”

it’s not like your question was along the same lines as ‘would you love me if i was a worm?’ or any late night silly thoughts, you were actually asking him.

“y/n, amor,” he sighs, “we’ve been together for what? four years? and we’re getting married in three months. of course i actually like you.”

you roll your eyes at his answer — unfortunately for miguel, it wasn’t the answer you were looking for.

“no, dumbass.” you say, and he whips his head around at the name calling, but you don’t pay mind to his dirty look, “do you actually actually like me?”

he scoffs, “i just told you that i did — ”

“no! i mean, do you actually like me? like why do you like me, you know? why are you so dumb?” you say, crossing your arms.

once more, he decides to ignore the name calling, “i think you need to get better at your wording, sweetheart.” he says and you scoff, “answer the question if you still want the wedding to be on.” you threaten and he laughs.

he pushes a pancake on a plate, “well if i had to talk about why i like you, we’re gonna be staying up the whole night.”

“flattering but not satisfying.”

he chuckles as he pushes over the plate of pancakes to you, and sits next to you by the counter.

miguel was never too good at expressing his feelings in words — the best he was at was calling you pet names and bringing you gifts every other day, but talking? nope, not his field of expertise.

but for you, he’d try.

“let’s see,” he hums, “i like the way you call my name whenever you want something”

“i like the way you get all flustered whenever i bring you a gift, even if it's something as simple as chocolate. I love the way you always tell me you love me whenever you just wake up, i love the way you kiss my forehead before we go to bed, i love the way you run your fingers through my hair after i’ve had a long day at work and you’re helping me relax — why are you so silent?”

he asks, afraid that he has been doing bad, but when he turns to look at you, you have tears in your eyes.

“i’m gonna cry.” you say, your voice wobbly as you wipe away at your tears and he laughs, holding your hands to stop you, “good tears or bad tears?” he teases.

you sniffle, “good tears.”

“amor.” he chides, and the realization that you two are about to get married in three months, that you’re already engaged to him, that you’re his and that you will always be his, dawns on him.

he smiles and pecks your lips softly, “i love you for the long term.”

you laugh and smile and peck his lips back,

“i love you for the long term too.”

#heroinnne writes #silly little drabble #marvel #marvel headcanons #atsv #atsv headcanons #atsv drabble #atsv miguel #atsv x reader #spiderman atsv #miguel o'hara #miguel 2099 #miguel ohara headcanons #miguel ohara drabble #miguel ohara imagine #miguel ohara x reader

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cowboyspence · 7 days

Text

Baby Reid? Baby Reid!

Summary: Spencer finds out that you're pregnant

Pairing: Spencer Reid x female reader

Word count: 342 (I at least think so)

Disclaimer: This the the first fan fiction I ever wrote + english is not my native language + I have no idea how tumblr works to be honest lol

You and Spencer have been married for 2 months now after dating for more than 4 years. Your marriage couldn't possibly be any better. You barely ever argued but lately something has changed.

You've been acting different. Spencer noticed. The team noticed. Everyone noticed.

You were constantly mad at Spencer for no reason at all. You barely ate. And you were tired all the time. Is she sick? Spencer asks himself. Maybe it was his fault, he thought. That he did something wrong and now you're upset. But despite of his eidetic memory, he couldn't remember anything he could've done to upset you. So he decided to just look up your symptoms to find out what you might have.

He typed your symptoms into his computer at work.The results shocked him...Pregnancy symptoms was the first thing that came up.

Could that be possible? Could that explain why you've been acting this way? When did this happen? he questioned himself. What a dumb question...Your wedding night 2 months ago. A night full of passion and love and most importantly right now....without any contraception.

After minutes of just staring at his computer screen, he decided to just ask you. If it just was this easy Spencer thought.But he knew that it's the best and only thing he could do in this situation. He walked over to your desk, that is not far away from his own.

"Y/N, can we talk real quick?" your husband asked. "Sure, what's up, love?" you replied.Spencer blushed at the nickname, even though you've been calling him love ever since you two started dating. This was probably the nicest you've been to him in days. "I'm just gonna ask you, because I know that you hate when I don't get to the point and umm..." "Spence, breath" you answered, as an attempt to calm him down. "Are you pregnant?", he suddenly blurted out. "Umm..." you couldn't even form proper words. That was everything he needed to answer his question:

You were in fact pregnant.

#cowboyspence #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader

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sweetnsour1 · 29 days

Text

11:15

Fluff, Bakugou x g/n reader

“This is dumb.”

“It’s not dumb. It’s math.”

“But it’s not fuckin’ math.”

“Ugh, it’s an expression.”

“How is math an expression?”

“Oh my god...it just means it adds up, grandpa.”

“Still doesn’t make any fuckin’ sense.”

“Yes, it does. Here, we’ll try another one. Todoroki.”

“IcyHot?”

“No, Fuyumi. Obviously Shoto.” Your head jostled as a pillow thudded against your face before returning to the lap it had flown from. “Hey!” The blonde was nearly pouting.

“Don’t call him that.”

“You started it. Anyways...our Todoroki.” Your eye roll was interrupted as you dodged his second attack. This time you tugged the pillow into your own lap before he could reclaim it.

“Don’t call him that either.”

“Oh my god, just answer.”

“Man written by a man.”

“Noooo.” You kept one hand gripped into the pillow while the other massaged at your temple. “No, you’re still not getting it at all.”

“His dad was the one who raised him though.”

“Hardly-” the word combined with your scoff, “-and that’s not the point. He’s man written by a woman for sure. Especially after his character growth back in year one.”

“The fuck? Like what?”

“He listens, he’s supportive, he’s thoughtful, he is always trying to learn how to communicate better, works hard to strengthen the relationships around him, he-”

“Okay, I get it! Damn!” You didn’t reply, giving him a moment to collect whatever festering thoughts he seemed to be sorting through. You waited patiently for him to choose one to give shape to. He shaped it into a grumble. “...so what am I?”

“You? Hmmm.” You put effort into looking thoughtful.

“Man written by a man?”

“No?” He looked relieved, but unsure. Perfect. His loss of cushioned weaponry made you brave enough to continue. “You’re more like a feral raccoon written by a-“ He lunged. “Hey!” You shifted the pillow behind your back, pressing your body against it. You realized a little too late that obviously left one thing for him to go for...you. He had you pinned between those massive arms. Your smile was instant.

“I’ll show you fuckin’ feral, brat.”

“Okay, so now you’re a man written by a woman.”

“The fuck is wrong with you?”

“Several things, which is probably why I’m interested in feral rac-”

“Shut up.”

“Yessir.” You saluted as much as you could with the space you were given. He let his arms buckle, falling forward and knocking the wind out of you a bit. He laughed or huffed into your neck. Either way he was at your shoulder, shaking his head before he kissed your cheek.

“Thought you were gonna’ show me feral?”

“Mmmm, later.” He continued, answering the question you hadn’t asked yet. “You calmed me down.”

“Oh.” You ran your fingers through his hair. You could feel and hear his hum at the action.

“Keep talkin’.”

“You told me to shut up.” He nuzzled further into your hair as you pulled his.

“Didn’t mean it.” You scratched at his scalp again before sliding down to his neck and shoulders. “Wanna’ hear ya.” He was whining.

“Always so bossy.” You laughed as he dug a knuckle into your rib. “I didn’t say no.” He seemed satisfied as he settled himself further. Before you could complain about the weight, he shifted, turning into half big spoon/half weighted blanket.

“So my favorite things about raccoons...” He pawed at your face with one hand, attempting to hide his laughter somewhere to your left. “You’re exactly right. Let’s start with their hands and how they use them.”

He loves nerds.

Masterlist

#bakugou #bakugou fluff #bakugou x reader #bnha fluff #bnha #bakugou imagines #bakugou drabbles #bnha bakugou #bnha imagines #bnha drabbles

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dateko · 9 months

Text

˚｡⋆ [3:27 AM] GETO SUGURU

a/n: just stupid fluff and the only thing i can write (bitches in a bed). me breaking my long silence and hiatus just to post a suguru drabble... he deserves happiness, too.... this is truly my jujutsu kaisen... pls enjoy!

Suguru breaks the silence of the late night’s pitch-black embrace. Listening to his breathing with your limbs tangled together comfortably beneath the covers, you thought he’d been asleep by now. But it seems he has many things on his mind.

“Can I ask you something?” He speaks, voice low yet so incredibly soft.

You shuffle in bed before you respond, playing with the large calloused hands locked securely around your stomach. Suguru has always been clingy with you. Just only behind closed doors, away from the rest of the world. He’s always wanted you to himself, in places where only the two of you know.

“Babe, I’ve said it before and I’ll definitely say it again. Yes, you should go and get that tattoo. It’d look really good.” You mumble sleepily, trying to fight the drowsiness in your voice.

Behind you, you can feel his chest rumble with a chuckle, and his strong hands wander down to your hips, turning you around to face him with overfamiliar ease. The face before you is beautiful and captivating. Even in the dark, where the only source of light is the still moonlight that seeps through the curtains, your breath hitches at the sight of his golden, golden eyes. Suguru’s hair is down and slightly damp, his dark locks framing his face in a way that makes you want to bite his nose off. You could never tire of a face like this. And you were lucky to have it all to yourself.

“Not what I meant, but noted.” Your lover smiles.

Hard to resist, you reach up to tuck a dark strand behind his ear and to this does he melt. You exhale at the feeling of his warm cheek resting into your palm like he was molding himself into you.

“Then what?” A thumb brushes across the expanse of his cheek as you whisper back.

Suguru sighs before speaking again. “Do you love me?”

This time, you really do pinch his cheek and threaten to bite his nose off as you roll your eyes and return to your original sleeping position. You don’t need to turn around to see him with a slight pout on his lips, brows furrowed just a bit.

“Don’t ask me dumb questions you already know the answer to, Sugu,” You bring your hand back to pull his arm back around your waist. “Of course I do.”

“I want to hear you say it.”

“Let’s go back to sleep.”

You should know better than to think that Suguru would stop there. The bed dips slightly before you feel your wrists being pinned above your head and your lover moves his knee over your body so he can loom over your smaller figure, a saccharine and deliciously sweet smirk on his plush lips. The tips of his hair strokes your face, which causes you to scrunch your nose with a smile. You knew what you were in for immediately, but it was quite honestly way too late to be even reasonably horny. All you can do is huff and pout up at the man you love so ridiculously much.

“Say that you love me.” He tries again.

“Sugu…” You whine as you make a small attempt to free yourself from his hold, knowing well you could never beat his strength. It was all for show and you’ve decided there was no longer any point in trying to sleep tonight.

“Come on…” He pouts, loosening his grip around your wrist to lace his fingers with yours instead.

Your careful eyes watch as he lowers his handsome face to yours, lips only mere centimeters away from yours. Suguru raises a brow at how you stare at his lips with a hungry look before your eyes meet him again, begging. Thinking he would finally give in to your silent pleas to kiss you, your other half dips his nose into the crook of your neck instead. To this, your body deflates and you sigh at the feeling of his skin on yours, that nose you adore so much brushing along the soft expanse of your neck while leaving a trail of feathery kisses.

Suguru places a playful bite on your shoulder before pulling up to look at you once more. “Do you love me?”

You bring his lips back down to yours, to which he happily reciprocates with a smile. Pulling apart, you look at him and really look at him. Making sure he possessed every feature you have memorized for years and looking up at the eyes that only seemed to sparkle when looking at you. Finally, you smile.

“I love you Geto Suguru. I love you so much,” You pinch his cheek for good measure. “And don’t forget it this time.”

“Now that wasn’t too hard, was it?” He smiles before reaching under your (his) shirt to squeeze at your side. “I love you, too.”

#i'd follow suguru anywhere if he asked i'm so sorry but i can't contain these thoughts of him.. IM JUST A GIRL #geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #geto fluff #geto x you #getou suguru x reader #JJK

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bloompompom · 1 year

Text

Always the Quiet Ones

One Shot

Pairing: eren jaeger x fem!reader

Summary: eren mistakenly took his new lab partner for being quiet, only to discover she was so much more than that.

Word Count: ~13.2k i am so sorry i just really like emotional investment ok

Content: explicit sexual content, explicit language, alcohol, rough(-ish?) sex, praise, spanking. reader discretion advised.

It was the honest-to-God truth when Eren said he wasn’t looking to catch feelings for anyone. But then you came along.

You were harmless enough—nothing more than his quiet lab partner in anatomy. Truthfully, he didn’t know what to think of you, other than you had a tendency to keep to yourself. When you did speak up, you kept your words brief, always pertinent to whatever assignment was at hand. But more days than not, you would only address Eren with a cursory nod, just when he’d take his seat beside you. Sometimes you couldn’t even bother to let your eyes flicker up from your textbook to acknowledge him properly.

So, Eren treated you the same, only bringing the bare minimum to your conversations. One-word answers. A specific grunt for yes, a different one for no—each you had to learn. The class dragged on long enough as it was, and there were many times when Eren found himself wishing he had a friendlier lab partner to spend his hours with. Or, at the very least, he wished he had one that could talk to him.

When Eren was exceptionally bored, his mind would wander to thoughts of you, why you were—for lack of better words—like that. Quiet. Standoff-ish. Withdrawn. He had a few ideas in mind, the most probable theory was that you were merely shy. That would make the most sense, wouldn’t it?

Or maybe you were the type of student that took her classes way too seriously. You were in your third year, after all. Maybe you were trying to get into a good graduate program. Or you just really liked anatomy. That’d make sense, too, because Eren would catch you reading with your face far too close to your book, sort of like a nerd. But other times, it seemed like you were just avoiding looking him in the eye.

Then there were the days—usually when Eren was particularly disgruntled—that your quietness irked him to no end. He knew it was irrational, but damn it, why were you like that? And all the time, too. Those were the times when he’d assume you were stuck up. What other reason could there be for you to ignore him so purposefully? He’d feel a little bad for it later, but sometimes he’d think you were just a bitch—simple as that.

Eren’s theories could go on and on, but none of them were true. At least, you didn’t think of yourself as a bitch. No, the reason behind your reserved attitude was much more straightforward than that.

You had a stupid crush on Eren.

A girlish, middle school, twirling-your-hair-around-your-finger crush. The kind of crush that made your stomach feel hollow and full, somehow at the same time, and had you gushing to your roommate even though you knew you’d never do anything about it.

You felt this way since last semester. But of course, Eren didn’t know that. You weren’t even sure he knew of your existence until Professor Hange partnered up the two of you.

Oh, God. Just thinking about that day made you sick with anxiety. When it happened, you swore you were going to die. Like, actually keel over from a heart attack in the middle of class and die.

Maybe there was another universe out there in which you would’ve been thrilled to have this forced time with your crush. Perhaps he’d even give you his number to text him about homework, and in that other universe, you’d be giddy over it.

But that was not the case because, in this universe, anatomy was far from your strongest subject. Very, very far.

When you were paired with Eren, all you could think about was the ways you would inevitably embarrass yourself in front of him, lab after lab. It terrified you, even to the point where you wouldn’t dare to ask him a question out of fear of sounding dumb. You’d go without having him repeat himself when you couldn’t make out what he had said, only managing to scribble down what little you could.

It was despicable. It was despicable, and you knew it, and you still couldn’t help it because it was much easier to pretend like Eren wasn’t there to begin with. Even if it meant you were starting to see your grade slip. You hoped to keep that—and your crush—a secret from him, but one day, he got too nosy for your liking.

Your lab report was handed back to you, face down, just like always. You knew professors did that for everyone, no matter the grade, but you couldn’t help but think it was specifically for you.

You didn’t want to, but you picked up the assignment—albeit, not as carefully as you should have for someone wanting to hide their score—and peeked in the corner. You, unsurprisingly, were met with a lousy grade. Again.

Eren leaned back in his seat, just far enough to steal a glimpse from over your shoulder. He shouldn’t have done it, but he was curious as to why you always hid your papers. He figured you must have been good at the subject. That would fit well with your stuck-up attitude, wouldn't it?

But what he saw surprised him, especially when he thought of his own grade. He wasn’t thinking when he chuckled, “Wow. Are you even writing anything down?”

You startled, clutching the papers against your chest. “Huh?”

You couldn’t tell if he was joking or not. He was, but it didn’t come off as tactfully as he had hoped. Eren often let his thoughts haphazardly turn to words. But you didn’t know about that nasty habit of his. All you were thinking was, shit, because he had finally figured out you had no idea what you were doing.

Eren saw the panic as it ran across your face. Feeling a bit bad about it, he cracked a small smile at you, maybe for the first time. Still, his eyebrows wore a look of pity that he couldn’t hold back.

“The lab,” Eren said, pointing to the paper crumpling in your grasp. Embarrassment washed over you when you realized how dramatic you were being, and you quickly folded the assignment in half to store away in your bag. “We do them together every week. How are you screwing them up that badly?”

You gave him a hard frown and regretted thinking he’d be anything more than curt with you. Even with the pity brows, you weren’t feeling much sympathy from him.

You didn’t say anything back because what kind of question was that? You could only stare past him blankly, imagining how this horrible moment would torment you as you tried to fall asleep that night.

You only looked at him again when you heard his chair drag against the tile. He sighed—a little too loudly to be considered natural—and started to put his things into his book bag.

“Look,” Eren started to say. He glanced up at you once he had zipped his bag shut. It made you flighty. “You don’t have to get stuck with a shitty grade. I bet I can help.”

His voice was flat and you didn’t like his delivery much, but underneath it, there was a glint of kindness. You didn’t know where it was coming from, and frankly, neither did Eren. Maybe he was feeling guilty for being so thoughtless. It was hard not to, what with the way your face—always so stoic he’d think you were made of marble—turned sullen. He didn’t like how it made him feel. Or perhaps it was more like he disliked knowing you could pull such a reaction out of him.

“You still have my number, yeah?” Eren asked you.

You nodded. You did, in fact, still have his phone number. It was in the top corner of the front of your notebook—the very first thing you wrote down. Well, he wrote it down after your first class together, just like you hoped he would. You decided not to save it in your phone; you were too worried about the possibility of drunk texting him.

“Good,” he said. “We can meet up sometime to study together.”

“Okay, yeah. Thanks,” you said, quietly at first, but your confidence grew with each word when you realized that this might not have to go down as one of your top ten most embarrassing memories.

“Sure.” Eren stood up and swung his bag over his shoulder. He smiled at you again. It was real this time—big enough to make your stomach flop. “I can’t let my lab partner flunk out on me.”

So that was where it began. ‘It’ being that you and Eren would study together—occasionally. Nothing more.

By studying, you did not mean the fun stuff. You know, like having him study your anatomy rather than the pictures in his textbook. Oh, well. You could still dream.

It took about two study dates (you preferred to call them that but only to yourself) before didn’t sit on the edge of your seat around him. As lame as it sounded, he made you incredibly nervous—maybe even more nervous than you felt around him in class.

And just like in class, you tried your hardest to keep your eyes on your text. You knew if you looked at him, you’d turn into a pile of goo before you could even look away.

It was shameful to admit, but you’d find yourself stealing a glimpse of him, but only when you were certain he wouldn’t notice. You’d catch him when he was jotting something down because you liked when he was pensive. His dark brows would sit low over his eyes and his bottom lip would jut out ever so slightly. And sometimes, only when he was stumped, he’d run his fingers through his hair while he thought. You liked that, too.

By the time midterms had come and gone, you were seeing Eren more and more often—at least twice a week. Once during lab, then another when you’d meet up to study. Maybe a third time if you had a lab report due. By then, it was impossible to allow your heart to flutter every time you looked at him, otherwise it was bound to give out.

What you wanted to be study dates started to feel more like you were getting tutoring lessons from him. Once you were convinced Eren’s willingness to help was genuine, you didn’t worry as much about sounding dumb. He never seemed bothered when explaining a topic to you, even if you went overboard with the questions. Once you started talking to him, it was hard to get you to stop.

It was nice when you didn’t have to think as much when you were around him. He’d poke fun at you because you always mixed up dorsal and ventral, and you never let him live down spelling ‘brain’ as ‘brian.’ ‘It was one time,’ he’d always complain back to you.

After being snarked at one too many times in the library for goofing off, you tried to get one of those private study rooms. They were only available by reservation and since those were hard to come by, other spots around campus had to do. Sometimes you’d go over to Eren’s place, no further than a five-minute walk from campus.

Eren lived in a house with three other boys. Jean, Connie, and Armin. You found Jean and Connie to be nice enough based on the handful of conversations you had with them. But Eren blamed them for the reason you didn’t study at the house often, accusing them of being too distracting to think straight.

Eren wouldn’t ever tell you this—hell, he couldn’t think of anyone he’d admit this to—but the real reason he didn’t like to study at his place was Armin.

Armin. Eren’s blonde best friend for the last ten years. His roommate that you found to be as cute as a button. Armin knew much more about anatomy than you and Eren, maybe even combined. When he was bored, Armin would join you on the couch and answer your questions that Eren didn’t know.

Eren couldn’t pinpoint why it bothered him so much. He always knew Armin was smarter than him; it was never a problem before. It irked him endlessly, but instead of trying to figure it out, he decided he’d start going to your apartment to study instead. Your roommate, Hitch, was more tolerable to be around, anyway.

It was around finals when you were smacked in the face with the not-so-subtle reminder that you still had a crush on Eren. It happened when your study dates became less of a one-on-one thing and more like a group hangout.

You were friendly with a few of the classmates that sat near you. The girl, Mina, told you that she, Thomas, and Samuel were getting together to prepare for the upcoming final exam. She said you and Eren should join.

You didn’t respond right away, but you felt that sick churning in your stomach when Eren did. ‘She needs all the help she can get,’ Eren replied, giving you a playful pat on the shoulder. He was only joking, of course, but you wished he didn’t sound so eager. You especially wished his hand, innocently placed on your back, didn’t make your face burn.

You got over it quickly. It was hard to stay bitter at people you got along well with, so much so that you’d accomplish more chatting than studying. Luckily for the rest of you, Eren and Thomas knew enough to help you skate by.

But when Eren started to text in the new group chat more than he’d text you, you couldn’t help but feel a sting. It felt like you had let your chances with him slip by because, next semester, you wouldn’t be his lab partner anymore.

You left the final feeling okay at best. You walked out with your head down, not paying attention as Mina caught up behind you. She invited you to come by her place that Friday—said some of your classmates were coming to celebrate the end of Professor Hange’s pop quizzes. You didn’t think much about it when you said yes.

You were at the get-together for maybe an hour, maybe longer, when someone was drunk enough to start a game of Never Have I Ever. You had just thrown away your second beer and felt just adventurous enough to play.

Mina’s living room was a bit small for hosting, but it was nice enough. She had it decorated in string lights for the holiday season, casting a colorful but warm glow over the room.

She had everyone crowd around, sitting where they could whether it was on the couch or on the floor. In the center of that ragged circle was an old beer. According to Samuel, it had been left out for a few hours and chugging it would serve as punishment for putting the last of your fingers down. And while you were tipsy, you certainly hadn’t drunk enough to be down for that.

You didn’t know it then, but you were about to be the loser of this game.

You sat on the floor, legs folded to your chest, with your hand growing tired in the air. Only your index finger was left standing when Mina shouted that it was her turn.

“Never have I ever had a body count higher than five,” she said.

A few people put a finger down, but it didn’t matter. You dropped your forehead to your knees in defeat and let your hand slump to your side.

Everyone was laughing, hounding you to drink the beer, when you asked, “Do I have to?”

You were too busy cracking open that lukewarm can, frowning as you went, to look past the heckling. If you did, you would have seen that Eren went quiet. No one seemed to notice the shift in him, even as a firm crease formed just between his unsettled brows.

He didn’t know what he was feeling, but it reminded him of how he felt seeing you laugh with Armin. It made him not want to look at you because the sight made something burn uncomfortably deep in his stomach.

It wasn’t that your body count offended him. After all, he had to put a finger down for the same reason. Though he would say he was surprised—it was always the quiet ones, wasn’t it? He didn’t know what was wrong with him or why he couldn’t kick the feeling—whatever it was.

Eren studied you from across the room. Your nose crinkled, giggles spilling from you as you tried, for the second time, to finish the rest of the beer. He’d seen you laugh—many times, actually—but its chime never ceased to captivate him, absorbing every last bit of his attention.

His thoughts wandered further, wondering if you’d crinkle your nose for him just the same if he made you come.

Right then, Eren saw you, underneath him. Your brows would pinch together cutely as your teeth dipped into your swollen bottom lip. He could feel your thighs under his hands, soft and giving under his palms as he pulled down your—

It was so wrong of him. Wrong to be in a room full of people and pretend as if you were the only two people there—the only two people to exist.

The swarming in his gut burned hotter, and he tried to dull it with another sip of his drink.

He started doubting himself, casting a downward spiral—what was so wrong with him that you weren’t interested?

Perhaps the sick feeling was more than just insecurity; he was also caught off guard by how wildly possessive he felt over you. So quickly, too, like a turn of the tides.

No, Eren knew what the feeling was; he just wasn’t ready to name it. He was sick with jealousy. Jealous of people that he didn’t even know, and for no other reason than they had the chance to be with you in all the ways he craved.

Eren didn’t stay at the party long after that. You left Mina’s just before midnight and didn’t think of much of that night, or Eren, for the rest of the weekend. And on Monday, you checked your final grade for anatomy. By some miracle, you passed the class.

* * *

It was well into winter break when you saw Eren again. You bumped into him at a party. There was about a week left until classes started again, and everyone was trickling back to campus to celebrate the new year.

You didn’t expect to see him again this soon, but then again, you weren’t so sure you’d ever see him again. Anatomy was the only glue that held you together. You wished you could say you had more confidence in the friendship—in him—but he hadn’t talked to you since Mina’s party. You thought he would at least have been curious to see how you did in the class.

It was probably better off this way, considering you nearly failed your lab because of him. Well, you technically passed because of him too, but you wouldn’t have worried about it in the first place if he wasn’t your lab partner.

All of that for a silly crush.

You stumbled into Eren toward the end of the night—you know, when parties start to feel more like the Twilight Zone. The limbo that lived between night and day. A few lights were on now, and whoever was in charge of the music had clearly given up long ago. It was all a not-so-subtle hint to get out.

Believe it, you wanted nothing more than to go home. You would have been out of there thirty minutes ago if it weren’t for Hitch. Your loveable, yet self-admittedly ditzy, roommate had disappeared from thin air.

By the time you thought to search for her, you had already drunk well past your limit. You were left dizzy, starving, and having poked your head in every room and around every corner. All you managed to find was a lot of dry humping.

The last time you saw her, she was one of those dry humpers. She was all over some guy—you guessed him to be the reason she even wanted to come to this party. Anyway, you were sure you’d catch his name tomorrow morning.

You were too distracted and still bubbly from all the leftover New Year’s champagne to see what was in front of you—even if he was rather tall, broad, and hard to miss. You didn’t even look twice as you walked past him, ready to declare Hitch as MIA. Your attention was only grabbed once you heard your name called out, and you were disappointed the voice was too deep to belong to Hitch.

You didn’t realize how drunk you were until you spun around and the floor tilted beneath you. It took you a step or two to straighten back out. When you did, your vision settled onto Eren.

He gave you a lop-sided smile, serving as nothing more than a hesitant greeting. He only made it more awkward by throwing in a cheeky, “Long time, no see.”

You returned the favor by offering a chuckle that was only half-forced; the other half was genuine simply because it was easy to impress anyone after a night spent drinking.

And since you had spent the night drinking, you felt all weird when you looked at Eren. It wasn’t that you were upset at him—maybe disappointed, but it wasn’t exactly with him. Eren never owed you his kindness, and going out of his way to help you study was more than you could have asked.

But now that he was here, getting shoved even closer to you with every passerby, you didn’t know what to think other than you should have skipped out on that last drink. You hoped you’d have yourself more put together the next time you saw Eren so you wouldn’t get tangled up in him again. You weren’t confident you’d be able to unravel yourself for a second time.

Eren took a willing pace forward and recognized the distant haze of booze over your irises. He realized you weren’t going to say anything, so he asked, “Were you looking for someone?”

“Hitch.” There was a pause, and you weren’t sure if he remembered that he knew her. “My roommate.”

“I know.”

“We were supposed to go get food, but I think she took a guy home,” you told him, for no reason in particular. “Last time this happened, I walked in on them doing it on the counter.”

Eren laughed, a bit harder once your face winced at the memory. “You should really consider finding a new roommate.”

“And in the meantime?”

“You come back to my place,” he said, so casually that you weren’t sure you heard him right. The look on your face must have given it away because he shrugged. “What’s the big deal? You’ve slept on my couch before.”

He was right. You had fallen asleep on his couch while studying once. He teased you about it—said you got drool everywhere.

“That’s different. That was an accident,” you sheepishly said.

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have fallen asleep in the first place,” he pestered.

“Maybe you shouldn’t make your flashcards so boring!”

Eren liked his simple flashcards; he actually preferred them. Not everyone needed to spend more time highlighting flashcards than actually studying them.

He tilted his head and gave you a look, one that said, stop being so stubborn for once. “Fine, then how about you tell me how to make them look nicer on the way to my place? I was just about to leave anyway.”

He took a daring step backward, and then another, until he turned on one of his feet and headed toward the front door. He knew you’d follow him, and thoughtlessly, you did. You were just behind him as you meandered through the house and out the door.

You told him, “You don’t really need them now, do you? The class is over.”

“I just thought you might need ‘em.” Eren was bounding down the porch steps when he tossed a glance over his shoulder, just to catch the look on your face when he said, “Figured you’d have to retake the class.”

You wished you had shoved him down the steps, but he was already across the lawn, you trailing him. He walked with longer strides than you and didn’t worry about slowing down.

“Thanks for that,” you replied begrudgingly.

“Anytime.”

It didn’t take long before the two of you were close to campus. You walked along the main drag, lined with all sorts of businesses that thrived in the college town nightlife. It made it difficult to tell the time, with every bar still playing music loud enough to thrum in your chest, the beat perfectly in tempo with each of your steps—those of which were still fighting to keep up with Eren.

He didn’t even bother to look back at you when he asked, “Did you still want to get food?”

“Hm?” You couldn’t hear him over your shuffling against the sidewalk. Your feet had already started hurting hours ago, and this certainly wasn’t making it better. You really shouldn’t have worn the new shoes you were gifted over the holidays without breaking them in.

“You never listen, do you?” Eren didn’t say it with annoyance but with an unsurprised laugh. “I’m surprised you’ve made it this far.”

“No, you just mumble a lot,” you defended. “And for your information, I am not retaking anatomy. I passed with a C.”

“C+ or C-?”

“Plus,” you said with inflated and drunken confidence.

“I’ll alert the media,” he replied. You stuck your tongue out at him even though he wouldn’t see it. “Now tell me, did you still want to get food or not?”

“I didn’t think it was still an option.”

“‘Course it is.” He finally glanced over his shoulder to look at you, nearly skipping to keep up with him now, just in time to catch you stumbling over a crack in the sidewalk. “I think you could use something to eat anyway.”

When you were about to round the corner onto his street, Eren stopped short just a few doors down. A 24-hour breakfast spot. You weren’t expecting to sit down, more so thinking you’d flag down a street vendor. But you had to admit, breakfast sounded wonderful.

Eren took the booth in the back of the diner after you were instructed to seat yourselves, not that there were many options. The place was small and smelt of pancake batter and stale coffee—just as any diner should at this hour. And stale or not, you knew you had to drink it to start sobering up.

The waiter flipped your ceramic mug over and filled it to the brim. If it were nine in the morning, maybe steam would pour out, like it did in the movies. But you didn’t want to know how long this coffee had sat out.

You took it with cream, then dumped some sugar in, too. You reached for a second packet. You caught Eren staring as you tore it open, his hands folded around his mug.

“What is it?” you questioned.

“Want any coffee with your sugar?”

“Ha-ha.” You added the sugar, now out of spite, and mixed it in. When you took your first sip, it tasted as bitter as you had imagined.

Now that you were off your feet, they were nagging for you to kick off your shoes. You wiggled them around at first, just enough for your heels to slip from the backs. When you felt a sting, you couldn’t bear to keep them on another second—the diner was empty anyway. Once they were off, your feet throbbed as if they had their own pulse.

The waiter took your order and then disappeared again, only making rounds to offer a warm-up here or there, one of which you accepted. Eren didn’t say anything when you added another packet of sugar this time. You kept your head down and fiddled with the loose scraps of paper. You didn’t even remember what thought you were having when his voice eventually snapped you from it.

“You know—” he started to say. You peered up from the wad of paper you had been rolling between your thumb and index finger. He sat back into the booth and looked out the window with a quiet chuckle. “I thought you hated me when we first met.”

You matched his laugh, yours more disbelieving. “Hated you? I don’t think I knew you enough to hate you.”

“You were always so quiet.”

“Being quiet doesn’t mean you hate someone.”

His eyes flickered from the window to you. “Then what does it mean?”

It was easier to talk to him when he wasn’t looking at you. You felt smothered by his gaze and started to twirl your spoon around your mug. It banging against the ceramic was the only sound between you and Eren because you still didn’t know how to answer him.

“I don’t know,” you said, thinking you would have come up with a more profound answer by now. “It just means you’re quiet, I guess.”

Eren was interrupted by your short stack of pancakes, sliding right between you and decorated with a gooey scoop of butter. He didn’t order anything other than coffee, even after you said you’d pay. And once the waiter dropped off the syrup and scurried off again, Eren was quick to jump back into the conversation, much to your dismay.

“But you’re not quiet, and you’re not shy either,” he said, like he had caught you in a lie. You urged him to continue with a raised brow. “Don’t give me that. I know that’s not you. I saw you dancing tonight.”

Your hand stalled in mid-reach for the syrup. “You watched me dance?”

He played it off when he said, “Well, yeah. My so-called quiet lab partner actually knows how to dance? It just surprised me, that’s all.”

“If you saw me earlier, why didn’t you say ‘hi?’”

Strike that—Eren almost played it off. He couldn’t mask his eyes flitting around, or how long it took him to excuse it away with, “Oh, I think someone grabbed me for a game of beer pong or something. I don’t remember.”

That never happened. Eren knew it, and it looked like you knew it, too. The truth was that Eren didn’t go up and talk to you because he had spent the last two weeks convincing himself he wasn’t into you.

He even went as far as reinstalling his dating apps, all of which he had long sworn off. He assumed if he just went on a date—maybe even brought a girl home—then he wouldn’t think about you anymore. But by the time dinner was over, Eren could hardly remember a single thing she said. He was too busy comparing her to you, finding himself disappointed every time she laughed because it didn’t sound like yours.

Then he saw you tonight. Of course, he had to see you tonight. And of all the things you could have been doing, you were dancing. He favored you like that—when you were carefree. You were nothing like the girl he first met in lab.

And when Eren heard your laugh—more remarkable than all the others, like he had gone deaf to anything but you—he couldn’t even remember why he tried to stay away from you.

But here you were, seated just across the booth from him, cheeks stuffed with pancakes, and he had no idea what he was supposed to do next. He had spent the entire walk wrangling with himself, scared that if he had you, even in the most innocent of ways, he wouldn’t be able to get enough. He knew he shouldn’t be thinking like this because—fuck, what if you didn’t want him back?

Eren only lied about beer pong because he couldn’t outrightly admit he needed another drink before approaching you. He was so close to getting away with it, too. If you had just glanced down at your plate a second earlier, or if he was faster about sipping his coffee to hide his face, you wouldn’t have caught the flushed bridge of his nose; so subtle but just telling enough that you had to bite your inner lip to prevent a smile.

You poked around your pancakes. You held your fork to your face, inspecting the bite as syrup dripped onto the plate. You were rather flippant about it when you finally told Eren, “It’s because I had a crush on you.”

“Huh?”

You plopped the pancake into your mouth, chewing so thoughtfully that it nearly killed Eren. When you swallowed, you said, “I had a crush on you. That’s why I was so quiet.”

He didn’t say anything back, even with you staring him square in the face. He was obviously flustered. You chuckled lightly, just through your nose, and said, “That, and you always got better grades than me. I didn’t want you to think I was dumb.”

Eren didn’t even hear the second half of what you said; he was too fixed on the first. “Do you still?”

You knew what he was asking, but you played dumb to it. “Still what?”

“Have a crush on me.”

You thought on it while you went for another bite, your eyes on him like he had the answer already. He did. You both did. But you let the question hang heavy between you, just for another second. You weren’t quite ready to lay your cards on the table yet.

You tossed him a flick of a smile when you answered, “To be determined.”

He nodded his head once, lips folded together in a similar sort of smile. “Got it.”

You were satisfied by that, but he wasn’t. He watched you while you took another sip of coffee, then immediately reached for another pack of sugar. Before you could pour it in, he shielded the mug with his hand. “But you better figure out an answer before all that sugar kills you.”

You swatted him away. “Yeah, it’ll definitely be the sugar that kills me tonight and not the keg stand I did.”

“You did a keg stand?”

You laughed at how his jaw nearly hit the table. “Only because Hitch talked me into it.”

Eren laughed with you despite the shake of his head. “See, what did I say? You surprise me.”

You had only taken a few hobbles out of the diner and onto the sidewalk before your heels started acting up again. You sucked your teeth at the pain, only made worse by another step. You had noted your fresh blisters when you first slid your shoes back on, but you hoped they wouldn’t be a hassle since the walk to Eren’s was short. Now, all you wanted was to be drunk enough to not feel them.

“Everything okay back there?” Eren asked.

You were behind him again. Not because he was speeding but because your toes were more tightly packed together than a can of sardines.

“Yeah,” you said. Eren thought it sounded unconvincing, and his hunch was only confirmed when he caught you stumble from the corner of his eye. “It’s my shoes. I’m sorry.”

Eren stopped walking and turned to you. “Why are you apologizing?”

“I don’t know.”

“Just take ‘em off.”

“I’m not just going to walk barefoot.”

“Didn’t say you had to.” You didn’t seem to understand what he was implying, even less when he gave you his back again, bending lightly at the knee.

He couldn’t be serious right now.

“My house is just a few more blocks away. I’ll carry you.”

Okay. He was actually serious. He was about to give you a piggyback ride.

Your laugh wasn’t intentional but when Eren heard it, he looked playfully offended.

“What? You think I can’t carry you?” He straightened out, shoved his hands into his pockets, and started to walk again. “Fine then. Suit yourself.”

He was about to start walking again when you called, “Wait!”

You wanted to blame it on your feet or that you didn’t want to slow him down, but you had to be honest with yourself—were you really going to pass up this opportunity?

He flashed you a smile over his shoulder. “That’s what I thought.”

You ignored his boasting and began slipping off your shoes. He took them from you in one hand, then let you hop onto his back. His body didn’t give like you’d expect, and his arms were sturdy as they looped around your thighs.

You hadn’t had a piggyback ride since you were probably eleven years old, but you didn’t remember it feeling like this. Eren’s neck felt warm against your arms even in the crisp night air, and his hands were even hotter, like they could sear into the backs of your thighs.

He jostled you forward, higher onto his back. “Hold on tighter or else you’re gonna fall off.”

You hugged him, your chest pressing into his back. You had never been this close to him before. His hair, only loosely tied back now, brushed against your face. His cologne was faint—warm like amber, but there was something refreshing about it that tickled your nose. You drew closer to him, inhaling the scent.

Eren worried that you felt the roll of his throat when your breath hit the nape of his neck. It was embarrassing that something as pure as a piggyback ride could have his heart racing. Suddenly, he was back in junior high and it was his first time holding a girl’s hand all over again.

If this was all he’d have of you tonight, he'd be happy with just that, even if it ended with waking up with a sore back. He wanted to earn your crush because he wasn’t so sure it had ever gone away.

Eren set you down on his porch and fished for his keys in his back pocket. Once inside, the house is too dark to make out anything. You stilled in the entryway, entirely unaware of your surroundings, but listened as Eren walked ahead.

Not even a second later, Eren flipped on a light from the other room. It was bright; enough to hurt your eyes at first, but you could at least see the floor now.

Eren stood in the doorway to the kitchen. He wore a look of trepidation, staring at you like you were a scared little puppy.

He asked, “Can I get you some water?”

“Sure. Thank you.”

He waved his hand toward the sofa before he disappeared around the corner. “Make yourself at home.”

You took a seat to ease the throbbing in your feet and sat with your arms folded across your chest. Now that you had a moment to yourself, you could suck in a deep breath. You forced it out on a lengthy and trembling exhale.

It wasn’t anxiety that you were feeling—it was more like anticipation. You weren’t naive; you knew how this would play out, and it had you clenching your thighs together impatiently.

You didn’t notice how rigid your arms were until you uncrossed them when Eren handed you a bottle of water.

He collapsed beside you on the other side of the couch, and it squeaked under his weight. He took a few swigs from his water bottle and then glanced at you.

“I imagine you wouldn’t want to sleep on the couch in a house full of guys,” he said. He laid his head back onto the cushion, like he planned to be there for a while. “If you want, take my room. I can sleep out here.”

You didn’t miss a beat when you shook your head. The thought alone had you unwittingly flustered. You hadn’t ever seen his bedroom before. “I’m not going to take your bed. You didn’t even need to go through the trouble of letting me stay the night.”

“Out of all the favors I’ve done,” Eren started to say. “You staying the night is the least of my troubles.”

You smiled at him. You smiled at him, and you had no clue how it pulled at Eren’s heart. A smile so shy, no greater than just a curl of the corner of your mouth, yet he wanted nothing more than to feel its shape underneath his lips and memorize the taste.

“Okay,” you finally said. “But I’m sleeping on the couch.” You could have stopped talking there, and you probably should have, but his unreadable gaze had you rambling, “But, really, if it’s too much—if you want me to go, I can call a—”

“I don’t want you to go.”

You stammered even though you didn’t know what you’d say next. The room felt suffocating, the air thick enough to make your throat go as dry as chalk. Something had changed. You didn’t know if it was the glint in his eye, just barely caught in the light, or that look on his face that made you shudder at the base of your spine.

Maybe it was more accurate to say everything had changed.

You didn’t have much of your voice back when you confessed, “I don’t want to go either.”

It was barely a whisper. So delicate and saccharine that Eren wasn’t sure you even intended to speak. Your eyes were big and genuine, like you had revealed your secret to him without saying much at all. He couldn’t look away despite barely clinging to what little composure you hadn’t stolen from him yet.

You liked seeing him like that—seeing such an unguarded look on a face that was normally hardened. Soft and electric, all at once. You never thought he’d look at you in such a way, and you didn’t want it to end.

Now or never.

“Eren?”

His voice was just as taken as yours. “Yeah?”

Eren knew you as anything but bold, but right then, you were. You stretched your leg across the couch. Slowly. Your foot, then your calf next—until you had your thigh dragged over his lap. You kept your eyes on him the whole time. The light from the kitchen cast shadows along the angles of his jaw, showing you how it tensed.

You purred the words when you asked, “Why are you so nice to me?”

You were feeling courageous now, but you knew you’d come to regret it the next time you saw Eren on campus. You could see him now—the smug smile he’d give you from across the hall, or on the far side of the green, or wherever you’d inevitably see him again. You would turn into a puddle right on the spot.

But that didn’t matter; you heard him stifle the groan at the back of his throat, and you wanted to hear it again. So for now, you’d let yourself play the role for the night, and you’d play it well.

“Am I?” Eren asked, his voice acquiring a new rasp. You nodded. “How so?”

“You know,” you said. You retracted your leg from him to sit on your knees, bumping them against his thigh. “You walk me home when I’m drunk. Carry me when my feet hurt. You let me spend the night and offer me your bed.” You leaned forward and rested your hand on his thigh, like you might kiss him, but you giggled instead. “Not to mention, you tutored me in anatomy for an entire semester and didn’t complain once.”

“I think I might’ve complained once,” he said with a smile in his voice. His hand cupped your cheek and you tried not to melt into him. “But I can’t help myself.” His thumb traced over your skin. “You’re very cute when you’re drunk and when you pass a quiz… and when you hold your book too close to your face when you read.”

“I don’t do that.”

“Yes, you do.”

You didn’t argue with him further because you were so close that your noses were almost brushing. He was still holding your face when his thumb swiped along your bottom lip. You wetted them, wanting a taste. His eyes flickered down to your tongue, then to your eyes again. Neither of you wanted to be the first to crumble the wall, the one you had spent a semester building together. One so tall that there were times you couldn’t see over it.

He gently caressed your face as you pressed your forehead to his. You felt his breath on your lips when you told him, “I still have a crush on you.”

“Yeah, I know.” Eren wasn’t cocky about it but soft. He sounded relieved.

Your hand left his thigh and splayed over his stomach. His muscles twitched under your touch. He couldn’t help but wonder if you knew what you were doing to him. You had to.

“So,” you said, long and drawn-out. Your fingers trickled lower until you palmed over the front of his jeans. He was hard. Much harder than you’d expect from harmless flirting. “Are you going to do something about it?”

He nearly gulped. “Fuck—C’mere.”

With the hand he had kept on your face, he pulled you to him. What you thought would be a crash of lips was much more affectionate. Instead of kissing as if you could make up for lost time, he kissed you slowly, his lips plush as they moved with yours. He was better at this than you had expected, taking his time with no destination in mind.

You parted your lips slightly, his tongue sliding in, hot and licking your own. He felt victorious when you gifted him with a moan, one he could swallow up before it met the air.

“Eren,” you whispered against his mouth. It came out more like a gasp. His hand curled around the back of your neck and tilted your head to the side, giving him room to explore your neck. He kissed the hollow below your ear, and when you gasped again, he grazed his teeth lower.

“Eren,” you reapeated, more breathily than the last but louder.

“Hm?”

“That’s why you didn’t want me to leave, right?” you asked, eyes fluttering shut as you felt him start to leave a bruise. You massaged over his length a few times before working on the button of his jeans. “Because you can’t help yourself?”

He didn’t answer before you had undone his zipper and snuck your hand inside his boxers. You wrapped your fingers around his cock, your grasp light and teasing as you slipped around him, base to tip.

“Yes,” Eren groaned—so wonderful to your ears. He would have tried to hold it back, but he was already too busy fighting the urge to rut into your hand.

He pinned you to the couch when he couldn’t take it any longer. Your back hit the cushion with another squeak from the springs, louder and more obnoxious than the one before it.

When Eren kissed you again, he didn’t want to take his time anymore. Because you were right, he couldn’t help himself. Not around you, at least. Not after you just told him you wanted him in all the ways he wanted you.

The couch was suddenly too cramped for your liking, limbs slipping and spilling until you were about to fall to the floor.

Your kiss broke when your head dangled off the couch. You each took a moment to breathe—or at least try your best to.

“We should probably go to my room,” Eren said.

“Yeah. We should.”

Eren took the back of your head into his hand and placed you back on the couch. You awkwardly fumbled around one another until you were climbing up the stairs in a hurry, clumsily tripping over your feet because you couldn’t imagine keeping your hands off each other. You trailed just behind him, your hand in his, as he led you to his bedroom.

But once you were in his room, Eren’s touch wasn’t as innocent as only a handhold. His hands were reckless—pawing over your body and gripping at your ass—yet so firm and sure that it had you moaning. Each tiny sound encouraged him further until he shoved you against the door, slamming it shut until it shuddered in its frame.

His forearms rested on either side of your head. He caged you in place, but you would have stayed right there and made out with him forever. His mouth was commanding but gentle enough that he could take you wherever he pleased.

Eren made you so damn needy. You took his loose, unzipped jeans between your fingers and tugged him close until you felt his cock pressed against you, your leg hooking around his waist. You ground against him helplessly because if you didn’t, you thought you might actually explode.

And, God, Eren wanted to give you what you wanted—everything that he had. There was a part of him that wanted to make you wait for it, maybe even beg for it, but he was only human.

His arms dropped to his side and he took a step back from you. Then, all he said was, “Bed.”

He sounded shallow when he said it, all breathless like his lungs were running on empty. You figured he intended it to be more demanding, but you liked this version better—when he was needy for you.

Your first step faltered, like you were high off him or something. You were about to lay in his bed when you heard him say, “Take your clothes off for me, too.”

Now that was demanding, his voice so gruff that it was still ringing between your ears.

Eren turned on the lamp on his bedside table. It was dim, casting an almost orange glow that was nothing more than a splash of watercolor paint over the room. Eren wanted to watch you undress, and he needed just enough light to show you off.

You were very aware of his gaze as you took your shirt between your fingers. It slipped and bunched over your skin as you peeled it up the length of your body. You were considerate of every move. How your fingers danced over your navel. How slowly and tightly you tugged the slinky fabric over your chest, revealing your bra with a bounce of your tits. It was so shamefully sexy. Eren couldn’t get enough.

He knew he told you to undress for him, but he couldn’t hold out any longer. You held your breath when you felt him behind you as you began to take off your jeans. His hands closed over yours, telling you, let me do it.

Eren’s hands curved over your hip bones, then met at the button of your jeans. He undid it, along with the zipper, expertly. All the while, he was kissing down the crook of your neck, the spot he had just learned you liked, especially when he sucked on it.

He did it without your asking, yanking a sharp exhale from you. He helped you shimmy out of the fitted denim, still leaving hot and open-mouthed kisses on your throat. When you felt your jeans pool around your ankles, you kicked them aside.

You turned to face him before sinking back into the bed. You laid down with the stretch of your back. It felt so good to sprawl along the billowy comforter, to finally be off your feet. If it weren’t for Eren and that ravening way he was eyeing you, you could have lulled off right then. You nestled around, relaxing your muscles that ached from the day.

It pulled a sound from you. A sweet, little moan that you didn’t even realize you had let slip. One so delicious that Eren felt his cock twitch before he could even take off your underwear. He couldn’t keep his gaze steady because he didn’t know where to look—he didn’t even know where to start. The sight of you, ready and beneath him, had him overwhelmed.

His fingertips, though lightly calloused, felt exceedingly gentle as he trailed them over your bare skin. So softly that if you shut your eyes, you wouldn’t have known he was there. He started just below the underwire of your bra, then down the length of your stomach. He tickled at your hip, and you squirmed cutely. He chuckled inaudibly through his nose, his head feeling a bit spacey as you stirred below him.

Eren’s hand stopped short of dipping beneath your underwear. He blinked a few times, hard, like it would clear some of the fogginess. He looked at you quizzically, as if he had reason to be suspicious.

He only asked, “How are you?”

You felt your brows knit together, mirroring his suspicion. “I’m good. Um, how are you?”

His face scrunched up, like he was about to say, ‘not good,’ and it made you nervous. You sat up on your elbows, interested, waiting for him. He ran his fingers through his hair, like he always did when he was trying to concentrate.

“We’re a little past exchanging pleasantries now, don’t you think?” you joked, mainly because you didn’t know what else to say right then.

“No, that’s not what I meant.” Eren brought his hand to his forehead as if he could capture his thoughts before they slipped away. “Like, I mean—” Coherency was far out of his reach, what with how you had sweetly angled your head in thought, staring up at him through heavy lashes. Had they always been that long?

Eren shook his head like it was an Etch A Sketch before he finally got out, “Are you still drunk?”

You were relieved that something hadn’t gone wrong. You thought about your answer, taking inventory of every feeling in your body, all of which only wanted him.

“Not really,” you said with a slight shrug. “Those pancakes were a real lifesaver.”

You weren’t sure why, but he still looked hesitant. You took his hand and gave it a squeeze, smiling up at him. “I want this. Like really, really want this.”

Eren let out a short laugh that softened you up even more. When his fingers started to move again, dancing along your hot skin, he pulled lightly at the band of your underwear. He was toying with it, his once-boyish expression turning more brazen when he asked, “Then is it okay if I touch you here?”

“Yes,” you whispered, your eyes fixed on him—on his fingers—until they slipped beneath the band, though you were hoping he’d take them off.

That single, breathy word was all Eren needed before he crawled over you, his free hand planted against the mattress beside your head. You were still propped up on your elbows, close enough to Eren that with just the tilt of your head, you were kissing him again.

When Eren’s fingers ventured even lower, gliding between you teasingly, he groaned—almost whimpered—into your mouth.

“You’re so wet,” he said, still playing with you. He’d circle your clit, just long enough to have your jaw go slack, then remove the pressure and tease your entrance. “All for me?”

“Mhm,” you murmured, feeling his fingers return to your clit. He rubbed languidly, having you twitch beneath him. When you lifted your hips, searching for more, his circles became tighter and quicker. Your elbows wobbled until you finally let them fall, tossing your head back against the mattress.

Your mind was consumed with him—Eren, Eren, Eren. Consumed with how good he was making you feel and every place you wanted him.

And when you cried out, “Ah—all for you,” you certainly weren’t thinking about how desperate you sounded for a guy who was nothing more than your lab partner.

That did it for him. Whether it was how pathetic you sounded or the neediness that was written all over your face, something in Eren snapped. In one impulsive motion, Eren stood up straight, hooked his fingers around your underwear, and pulled them down your legs with ease. Once they were tossed to the side, lost with your other garments, his hand was back between your legs.

He pushed his middle finger inside you at first, your back arching at that alone. He curled it just the right way that had your breath already hitching in your throat.

You’d think he’d be arrogant about it—how he already has you bending to his will—but he was entirely lost in you, every bit of you. Your tiny gasps slipped past your swollen lips. Your bra and the way its straps had started to fall down your shoulder, exposing the delicate skin. How pretty you looked taking his finger.

Eren quickened his pace and had you shuddering, but as that familiar feeling started to burn low in your stomach, it was stolen from you just as fast.

You let out a frustrated sob and darted your head to see why he had rudely edged you like that.

He yanked his shirt over his head and threw it aside. Yet another article of clothing to search through later. “I wanna go down on you.”

Your face suddenly felt hot. You weren’t sure if it was from the sight of his deceivingly-toned stomach or how his voice didn’t waver as he spoke so freely to you. But before you could decide what it was, Eren was stripping from his jeans. And if you were still unsure as to why you had clammed up, the tent in his boxers—large and threatening to undo you—was most certainly it.

You were trying your best to look at his face when you asked, “Don’t you think we should be fast? All of your roommates are here.”

Eren didn’t want to be fast, not in the slightest. He wanted to have you, all to himself, for as long as you’d allow him. But it was easy for him to say that now; his willpower was beginning to wane the longer he looked at you.

“They’re sleeping. Don’t worry about them.” Eren’s thumb was making small circles against your inner thigh. It was making it difficult to say no to him, at least until he cracked a small smile. “I thought you said you were quiet.”

The look on your face told Eren you were about to quip something back at him. Just before you could, he leaned over you again. He held himself up with his forearms this time, much closer than before, encasing you in his warmth.

His mouth was even warmer when it met your neck. You felt his lips—his tongue—as he ran along the silky skin he wanted to suck.

Eren nibbled at your ear, and you let out an airy giggle that traveled straight to his cock. When he was at your collarbone, your hips wantonly rutted against him. Then, once he tugged down the cups of your bra, his hot breath fanning over your perked nipples, you rewarded him with a moan—even louder once he took one into his mouth.

You were so, so sensitive. All for him. Eren wanted to discover every nook on your body that he could kiss and every sound that you’d make along with it. He wanted to learn every last part of you, especially the parts that would have you wrecked.

His kisses continued down your stomach, with him lowering to his knees on the ground. He took your legs, one in each hand, and tugged you until his shoulders were snug between your thighs, your bottom half hanging off the side of the bed.

Eren palmed over the tops of your thighs, the flesh molding to his hands. He left kisses there, too. His lips were open and warm and so close to where you wanted them the most. Just the thought had goosebumps scattering across your skin.

“Let me taste you.” His voice was a quiet plead. He placed another kiss on your thigh, then another, with his eyes fluttering shut like he was savoring you. “Please.”

Your voice was lost somewhere in your throat, so you bobbed your head, perhaps a bit too eagerly. Eren gleamed up at you like he wanted to smirk, but he was smart enough to not risk his opportunity to have you.

At first, you only felt his breath on you, and it quelled the chill bedroom air. Next, it was the tip of his tongue. It ran through you, painfully slow but still enough for your voice to return in nothing more than airless gasps.

“Spread your legs wider for me.” You did as you were told. He must have been pleased by it because you swore you felt him grin as he praised, “Good girl.”

You made an embarrassing sound at that—one that you didn’t expect and Eren surely didn’t either. But it excited him, knowing that you were weak to his words, to his voice, to him.

With you, now open and on display for him, Eren couldn’t resist burying into you, even if he had fully intended on teasing you for longer. His tongue flicked at your clit, sending pulses of electricity shooting up your spine.

You shifted your hips, raising them to meet him. His tongue was steady, never slowing once he learned the rhythm you liked—the one that had you lacing your fingers through his hair and undoing his bun.

And when you angled your hips just a little more, guiding his tongue to just the right spot, it was like you saw sparks behind your eyelids.

“Eren—ah—right there,” you said on a frantic exhale.

He had the flat of his tongue against your clit, letting his tongue lap at you in tandem with the rocking of your hips. But when your thighs began to quiver and shake, he hooked his arms around them, locking you in place for him.

He continued having you feverishly, filling the bedroom with a mix of your wispy cries and his own groans. It was like he was just as desperate for you to come as you were, worshipping every squeak and squirm he could get from you.

“I—I’m—”

Eren looked up to read your face. You looked breathless, your mouth only slightly opened in a vain attempt to pull in tattered breaths. He released his hold on your legs and they weakly fell on his shoulders.

He replaced his tongue with his thumb, not breaking his pace, and asked, “Do you want more?”

“Y—yes.”

“You want my fingers?” His thumb left your clit and you mourned the loss, only for him to trace a finger down your entrance, barely dipping inside of you.

“Oh, fuck,” you writhed. “Yes.”

Eren let his middle finger slip through you again before pushing it inside. He curled it, sliding in and out as he rushed to return his mouth to your clit. He gave you a few kitten licks before picking up right where he left off.

You were getting close—so close—and if time could allow for it, you would have stayed like that forever, just shy of becoming entirely undone.

Admittedly, there were many times when you imagined Eren having his way with you—imagined what it’d feel like for him to finger and fuck you. But never did you think he’d beg to have you this way. You decided to risk a glance at him to know what he looked like between your thighs. When you propped yourself back onto your elbows, that was when you knew you were done for.

Eren’s face was flushed, a blossomy pink spanning his nose and cheeks. You were so wet, he was so wet—soaked, actually, in a lewd mix of both his saliva and your slick. His finger pumped in and out of you, working with his licks at your clit to have you ruined for him.

His green eyes, now shameless and darkened like you hadn’t seen them before, found yours and a gravelly moan escaped him. He felt a bit pathetic for it, but what had him feeling even more pathetic was how he couldn’t stop his free hand from working his boxers down his thighs. He took hold of himself in desperate need of something—anything—because you were possibly the hottest thing he had ever seen. He only knew you would look even better once he had you coming on his tongue.

You whimpered when you saw him fisting his cock, nice and fast. He was so hard for you, and you weren’t shy about staring. You couldn’t even pretend to be. You wanted to see how he liked it, watching him jerk himself with only quick breaks to give extra attention to his tip. You thought about how he’d fuck you, wondering how he’d like it then, and it sent you over the edge.

Your moans came out choppy and strained until your voice cut out entirely, your breath getting caught up in your throat. You sobbed silently, carelessly rolling your hips over Eren's tongue, helping his finger dip against that spot again. You wanted to drag the feeling out as long as you could. By the end of it, you were trembling, panting, and couldn’t hold your eyes open.

Eren had to stop pumping himself or he would have come from that alone. He sat back on his knees, one of his hands palming over your thigh while the other rubbed at your clit, his touch nothing more than a feather and just to ease you back down. You looked like you needed it—you were absolutely wrecked, with your legs limply pulled apart for him, just like he hoped for.

God, he annoyed himself for pretending that he never wanted you because you—you were a dream.

The only thing that could wake him from that dream was your voice.

“Eren?”

He loved when you said his name.

You sat up to look at him. It was harder this time because it felt as if a ton of bricks sat on your chest as you struggled to find your breath. Eren was quite the opposite, looking entirely unbothered. He had his cheek resting against your thigh, his eyes fixed on his finger as he lazily pushed it back inside you. You jolted lightly at the intrusion. You were still coming down, and he could tell by the way your muscles spasmed around his finger.

He was mesmerized by the feeling—you sucking him in for more—and didn’t even look up at you when he replied, “Hm?”

You would have normally found it embarrassing, how he started at you so unabashedly, but you were already so sensitive from your orgasm that the winding feeling in your stomach had already returned. It begged to snap again.

“I want you to fuck me.”

He loved hearing that even more.

Eren finally looked at you then, and if he were a dog, his ears would have perked up like you said the magic words.

“What was that?” he said, more playfully than you expected. You didn’t like it, especially not with his smug grin to match. “I couldn’t hear you. You were mumbling.”

“You heard me the first time.”

He slipped his finger from you, running it teasingly up the crease of your thigh. “Say it again.”

It tickled. You fussed, “Eren, come on—”

“No, I don’t think that was it. I think you said something else.”

“Just—” You sighed grudgingly before finally giving in. “I want you to fuck me. Fuck me, please.”

He beamed at you, proud of both you and himself, and started to take off his boxers that still hung at his mid-thigh. “Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Eren stood up and didn’t let you respond before taking hold of your waist and flipping you onto your stomach. You bounced against the mattress when you landed, it squeaking conspicuously beneath you.

You felt his hand on your shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly. He then trailed his fingers lower, down to your bra, and quickly undid the clasp. You pushed yourself onto your elbows and felt your bra fall, its straps loosely hanging around your arms. He took you by the hips, just where they met your thighs, and helped raise you to your knees.

“You look so pretty like this,” he told you, giving himself a few more pumps with one hand and smacking your ass with the other.

You yelped, “Eren! Roommates!”

“I thought I told you not to worry about them,” he said, with another smack.

The print of his hand still stung when you heard rustling behind you. You peeked over your shoulder to find Eren tearing open a condom. He rolled it onto himself, all the while, his eyes stayed pinned on you—naked and with your ass in the air for him.

He flattened a hand against your lower back, having you arch it for him. With his other, he gripped his cock by the base and lined it up perfectly with you.

He guided himself in more slowly than he wanted to, letting you adjust as he listened to you suck in a sharp breath. It was a bit of a stretch, but it was easy enough for him to push inside having already prepped you with his fingers, only to leave you aching to be filled with more.

When his pelvis was flush against your ass, he felt you flutter around him, squeezing his cock so perfectly he’d think you were made for him. A groan bubbled up in his throat, low enough that it was nearly a growl. The sound made your heart skip—right between your lungs—so you clenched again to encourage another.

“You’re gonna make me come if you keep doing that,” Eren hissed hedonistically.

“Doing what?” you asked innocently. Then you did it again.

Despite his warning, he didn’t protest it. Instead, he started thrusting into you leisurely. He was self-indulgent about it, too, spreading you with his hands so he could admire how well you took his cock.

“God, you feel so fucking good,” he muttered, quiet enough that it was like he was talking to himself. “So fucking good.”

“Eren.” The whine in your voice drove him crazy.

His hands, large and demanding, curved over the fat of your hips. His fingers gripped down as he pulled you against him, dragging you back to meet every snap of his hips. The indecent sound of smacking bounced off the bedroom walls. You didn’t complain this time. Your head dropped between your shoulders, eyes screwed shut, as you became lost in the throws of pleasure all over again.

“Eren,” you cried again.

He didn’t stop fucking you to ask, “What is it?”

He leaned over you, his hand snaking up your neck and cupping your chin. He angled your face to look at him—so he could see what you wanted. But you couldn’t form anything other than wimpy chants of ah, ah, ah, coming out mangled as he squished your cheeks between his fingers.

“Tell me how you want it.”

His words alone caused you to bite back a moan.

You finally managed to tell him, “Harder.”

Eren smiled, all slack-jawed and toothy, and you would have found it irresistible and totally ill-fitting for the situation if you saw it. But how else was he supposed to react after hearing what he thought only existed in his dreams?

He placed a kiss at the base of your neck, then on your shoulder. It was unexpectedly doting, but then you felt his fingers curve up and around your throat. Though you anticipated what was coming next, you still squealed as he hoisted you upright until your back was flush with his chest.

Eren held you there, fucking up into you—harder—like you asked of him. Your flimsy bra barely hung from you, just around your elbows, and flopped with each of his thrusts. He groped at your breast, taking your nipple between his fingers, rolling and squeezing at it until you were mewling.

He continued to take you as if you were his, and you let him have you. You let him use you like you were nothing more than a plaything for his pleasure, with your head feeling heavy as it lolled back against him.

But you were so much more than just that, and Eren was determined to have you coming again. This time, on his cock. He wanted to feel it.

“Touch yourself,” Eren demanded, right into your ear. It made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. “I wanna hear you when you come this time.”

Your hand slithered down between your legs. The very tips of your fingers bumped into Eren’s cock as you got yourself off. Your legs wavered at the added pressure, and you were practically vibrating when you came, your heartbeat pounding in your ears.

It was hard to stay upright. You fell from Eren’s hold and landed on the bed forcefully, him toppling right over you. You struggled to rub your clit as he fucked you into the mattress. You were still riding out the aftershocks, and it had you squeezing your thighs together so nicely for him.

“I’m—ah, fuck—I’m close,” Eren grunted.

It surprised you when he pulled out since he was wearing a condom. But when you felt his hands fly to your sides, you realized he was rolling you onto your back. Your arms, like jelly, were tossed carelessly above your head. He pinned them in place with a single hand around your wrists as he pushed inside back inside you.

“I need to see you.”

Your stomach flipped at his words like they were poetry. Fuck. He had you so irrevocably wrapped around his finger. He had all of you. And maybe you were just lovelorn and looking for something that wasn’t there, but you swore he looked like he was just as ensnared as you.

You wanted to touch him, squirming your wrists around until he released his hold. You took his face, sticky under your fingertips, between your hands. You wanted to see him, even more unguarded than before. His eyes were moony and heavy-lidded and had you swooning.

“Fuck, Eren—I want you to come,” you gasped.

Easy enough.

He came hard. As perverted as it sounded, you wished you had a camera. You wanted to remember how his eyes snapped shut and record every sound. He buried his face into your neck with a few stutters of his hips, grinding against you like he could go deeper.

His breath was hot and panting against your already sweltering skin. It was a bit hard to breathe, especially under his weight, but you wanted to hold onto him longer.

You didn’t realize you were gracing your fingers up and down the back of his neck until he lifted himself up. He let his face linger above yours, like he wanted one last look, nudging his nose against yours.

You laid still, watching while Eren straightened out and disposed of the condom. Your legs felt too soft and lazy to move, so you only rolled your head to the side to follow him as he stepped into a pair of sweatpants.

“The invitation to stay the night still stands, right?” you asked, admittedly, with some sass.

“No, I was actually going to call you an Uber home.” Eren rolled his eyes. “Of course it does. What kind of guy do you think I am?”

You giggled as you pushed yourself upright. “Where’s your bathroom?”

“Down the hall, last door on the right.” Eren took one look at you, then started digging around in his dresser. He tossed something at you, aiming it at your head by the looks of it. You caught it just in time. It was a t-shirt. “You can wear that.”

You held it up by the arms to inspect it, then peered over it to ask, “Is that weird?”

“It wasn’t until you asked that.”

You pulled the tee over your head and stood up to adjust it. You put your underwear on next but felt a bit more hesitant about the jeans.

“They’re sleeping, I promise,” Eren told you as he put on a shirt of his own. “Just be quick.”

“Okay,” you said hesitantly. You started to leave the room but poked your head back in. “I’m leaving the door cracked so I know which room is yours.”

He laughed, “Alright.”

You followed his instructions. The last door on the right. You even tried to be quick about it, too. You peed, washed your hands, splashed some water on your face, and only stared at your bruising collarbone for ten seconds before rushing back down the hall.

Eren was in bed when he saw the door swing open. “Look at you, Ms. C+, not getting lost.”

You made a face at him. “Whatever, Brian.”

Right on cue, he said, “It was one time!”

For whatever reason, you didn’t crawl into bed with him right away. You felt a bit like a deer in headlights, blinking at Eren, sleepy and with his hair still unkempt from your fingers. Seeing him like this, dressed in his shirt, and about to curl up under his sheets—were you supposed to just go along with it like it was normal?

You tried to think of something to say, but when you did, Eren cut in. “You can’t seriously try to take the couch after that.”

That was exactly what you were about to do. The purse of your lips had him chuckling because he knew he was right. He lifted the blanket up for you—once again, like this was entirely normal for you—and said, “Get over here already. I’m cold.”

Eren was extremely difficult to say no to, but you already knew that. You got into his bed and let him lay the comforter over you. Either his pillows were really soft or you were just exhausted, but your eyes went heavy almost immediately. Eren reached over you to turn out the light, and you felt his arm fall on top of you. He hugged around your waist and didn’t hesitate to pull you into him.

He nuzzled into the back of your neck and in your hair, pulling a giggle from you. “Are you always this clingy after sex?”

“Mhm,” he hummed, tickling you again.

Eren most definitely was never clingy after sex. But there was no way he could keep his hands to himself, not with how good you looked in his shirt, just barely long enough to cover anything. Maybe his intentions in lending you his shirt weren't as pure as merely helping you get comfortable—so sue him. You wearing his clothes like you were his was definitely a sight Eren could get used to, and one he had a feeling he’d see much more often.

#eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren smut

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