Dazzling Haze, Mysterious Way

dazzling haze, mysterious way

(eren x female reader)

college au; enemies to lovers

wc: 7k+

warnings: cursing, suggestive if you squint really hard

a/n: i have no excuses for this madness, please know i am embarrassed. considering writing a part 2 if you enjoy!

Things being back home for the holidays usually means:

a) indulging in your dad’s creamy homemade hot cocoa, b) having at least one christmas movie night with Christa, c) spending half of said christmas movie night repeatedly asking Christa to put her phone down (she can text her girlfriend after Juliet answers the doorbell to find Mark carrying a boombox playing a christmas carol and large cue cards), d) getting some well deserved rest after a decent finals week

Things being back home for the holidays doesn’t usually mean:

a) forgetting your favorite sweater at your dorm like a dumbass, b) finding out your dad fell prey of food poisoning, c) having to threaten to throw your brother’s nintendo switch out the window if he doesn’t stop smoking in his room, d) being so short on money you’re forced to look for babysitting jobs to roll out the slim earnings you get from working as a tutor on campus

So here you are, buried in a gigantic white puffer jacket and handmade scarf, backpack heavy with books, DVDs, craft supplies. Here you are, ringing the doorbell of one of the fanciest houses of the entire, affluent neighborhood you’ve been directed to by the woman who had called you yesterday. You sincerely hope you didn’t get off the bus too early nor too late, as this is not really a part of your hometown you’re familiar with.

You are, however, fairly familiar with the 5’12 broad chested green eyed cable knit sweater and pajama bottoms wearing figure opening the door.

“Thanks, we don’t need anything” he says, gaze flickering over your outfit, only one second spent wondering where you could possibly be hiding a vacuum cleaner.

Does he really not recognize you? Is it the scarf or is he actually that much of an idiot?

“Does Gabi live here?” you ask, unimpressed.

His eyebrows raise in interest.

“She isn’t old enough to buy anything”

“Eren, I’m here to babysit” it feels so weird to say his name out loud to someone that isn't Mikasa or Christa. It’s weird to call him by his name while he’s there to actually hear it.

“Do I know you?” his gaze narrows, gears in his head working exceptionally hard to try and remember a face that simply isn’t familiar enough for him to pinpoint.

You sigh.

“Isn’t your mom here? She asked me to come today and has already paid in advance. I can leave but—”

He finally opens the door fully, a gust of wind makes him shiver and it finally dawns on him that it’d probably be rude to let you freeze on his doorstep.

“Come in, I’ll call her” he moves to the side and you accept the invitation with relief, hands ice cold even if buried inside your pockets.

The house is warm, smells nice and you can hear that the tv is on in the living room. You stay by the door, watch as he heads to what you can only guess is the kitchen and comes out shortly after, phone squeezed between his cheek and shoulder as he removes the hair band sitting around his wrist with his teeth.

“Hey mom” you do your best not to stare as he ties his hair back and the sweater rises up slightly, revealing part of an annoyingly toned stomach “yeah, ‘m fine. Someone’s here, she says it’s to babysit Gabi?”

However, you are staring. Which explains why you slightly jump when his gaze is suddenly on you again as he hums, listening to whatever explanation his mom is giving him.

“Ah, right. She says you already paid?”

“I can leave and send the money back” you take a small step forward but Eren motions you to keep quiet with a raise of his pointer finger.

“Okay, I got it. Yes, I’ll tell her. Thanks, you too, tell dad I said hi” he smiles softly before ending the call and shoving the phone in his pocket.

“It’s honestly my fault, I came back one day earlier than expected. She’s embarrassed and so sorry and will call you later to apologize”

“It’s really no problem, I’ll just send the payment back” you’re already with one hand on the door handle, hoping to god the next bus will come within an hour, when his fingers delicately close around your wrist.

“Don’t be ridiculous. You can stay”

“There’s no need, just take the money and I’ll be on my way”

Eren suddenly furrows his brows for a second, then his hand reaches over to your scarf and gently pulls it down enough to reveal the entirety of your nose and mouth.

“Ah, you’re the tutor girl. Thought I recognized that polemic tone” and now you finally find him more familiar as well, with that snarky smirk and teasing gaze.

“I wouldn’t need to be polemic if you actually cooperated for once in your life”

He brings both hands to his chest, a fake grimace distorting his features.

“Ouch. Still can’t believe Armin describes you as pleasant to be around”

You click your tongue in annoyance.

“Likewise. I’ll send the money back when I get home” you grumble, turning around to open the door once again. It sucks, cause you need it and your house is half an hour away and it’s 28.4 °F outside, but it’s the right thing to do.

“Hey, listen” Eren doesn’t grab your wrist a second time, his hand reaches the door handle instead. In an attempt to keep it shut, he’s basically hovering above you, an invasion of your personal space so sudden you barely have the time to register that he smells sickeningly nice. Way better than you have anticipated, given that he usually looks like someone who showers once a month and even then refuses to wash his legs cause water and soap rinse down on them anyway.

“She has homework, some kind of project to do. I’m too tired to deal with it, just do the job so you can keep the money and I can keep watching house of the dragon”

“Who is that? ” a high pitched voice asks, making you jump. Eren’s infamous smirk appears once again as he leans forward even more to whisper a good luck though, she’s a pain in the ass right to the shell of your ear. The shudder is a perfectly normal, balanced reaction that you hope to fuck he doesn’t notice.

“She’s your new mom, Gab! Mine finally decided I’m the only one worth keeping around, so she’s given you up for adoption, again” he finally pulls back and winks at his sister, who returns him an unimpressed look.

“Hi, Gabi, it’s so nice to meet you. I’m just gonna be here for a few hours to keep you company” you take off your scarf and attempt a smile. The petite, young girl staring back at you seems offended.

“I don’t need a babysitter, I’m twelve”

God, she really is his sister. The medium length black hair half tied above her head with large strands framing each side of a very skeptical face is the same as his, only darker.

“Have fun” Eren grins, patting your shoulder once before disappearing into the living room once again.

You clear your throat and kneel down to place your backpack on the floor, unzipping your jacket in an effort to stop sweating. What do they have in the house, radiators buried in the damn walls? 

“I’m not here to babysit” you smile again “I won’t even bother you if you don’t want me to. Just thought I could give you a hand to finish whatever schoolwork you may have, so you can enjoy the rest of the holidays doing whatever you like”

Gabi weights down her options, studying you for a few moments. She knows she’s gonna have to do her homework anyway, sooner or later, so if this stranger suddenly appearing at her house is going to be there regardless, she might as well be of use.

“Whaddya have in there?” she suspiciously eyes your backpack and you zip it open to give her free peeking access. Gabi kneels on the carpet as well, snooping around the content of the indigo eastpak. “These movies are lame” she grumbles, holding one of the DVDs in between her pointer and middle finger.

You fake a gasp.

“Hey! I’ll have you know that Balto is an all time classic” you grumble back, taking the DVD back. Gabi fights the smile already tugging at her lips. She usually likes adults who talk to her as if she’s one of them, and you seem kinda fun. But it’s too early to let you know.

“What’s the crafting stuff for? I’m not three” she bites again, standing up with her arms crossed. You shrug.

“Those are for me, in case I get bored. I create killer notebooks from scratch, sometimes a pinwheel or two if I feel inspired enough” you casually wink, finally taking off your jacket and hanging it by the door, over your scarf.

“So, I guess, if you don’t want my help I may as well go craft myself something” you dramatically sigh, throwing your backpack over one shoulder and starting to march towards the living room.

“Actually, I kinda have a project for school” she mumbles under her breath, still loud enough for you to hear.

“Oh?” you turn around, brows raised.

“I have to make a snow globe and associate a story with it”

“D’you think I could help with that?”

She casually scratches her nose, shifting her weight from one leg to the other.

“Okay”

“How did you even manage to fit all that in one backpack?” Gabi eyes the materials scattered on the kitchen table, appalled. There’s paint, fake snow, fishing line, brushes, some small wooden decorations, ribbons, a glue gun.

“I have my ways” you chuckle “do you have everything we need?”

“I guess” she sounds skeptical, your favorite emotion to work with.

“Great! Let’s wash the container first, use warm soapy water and scrub well”

“Aren’t you supposed to do that?”

“Nope” you pop the p “you’re the one in charge, remember?”

She snorts but heads to the sink anyway, to do as instructed. You wait at the table, foot tapping lightly on the polished parquet floor. When she comes back and sits next to you, you can tell that she’s holding back some curiosity about how the whole thing is going to turn out.

“Wanna pick the decorations we’re going to use?” you smile, pushing the small wooden figures towards her “I have stars, trees, a truck, a bear, I think that’s a reindeer and, well, a slightly crooked snowman”

Gabi takes the decorations in her hands one by one, carefully inspecting each of them, pensive. The crests forming on her forehead as she focuses remind you of the exact same ones Eren gets when trying to understand how to solve a problem sheet.

“Let’s use the stars, the trees and the crooked snowman. We could give him a nice story”

“Sounds good to me. Wanna do the honors?” you ask, handing her a brush.

“I get to paint them?” her voice comes out slightly squeaky, coated with genuine excitement and, as you nod, she finally rewards you with a big, warm smile.

With your chin resting in the palm of your hand, you fondly watch as she focuses on making the stars, the trees and the snowman come alive with gentle strokes of color. She’s pretty talented and gets into it soon, asking for your opinion from time to time. As soon as she’s finished with the stars, you cut two pieces of fishing line and glue the stars onto one end. Then you take the other end and glue it to the inside of the lid, letting the stars dangle downward. This earns you a wow, you’re actually good at this stuff.

Time passes comfortably as you continue to work on the little project. You help Gabi glue the red ribbon around the (now painted green) lid, adding some twine to keep it in place. She fills the inside of the container with the fake snow and insists on getting some pink glitter from her room to give the snow more character. Lastly, she carefully glues down the decorations in the container, places the lid on top and snaps it closed.

When Eren steps into the kitchen, almost two hours later, he briefly stops to take in the view of you two bent over the messiest table he’s ever seen, paper sheets and colored pencils scattered everywhere as you confabulate in soft whispers occasionally interrupted by genuine giggles. He doesn’t remember seeing his little sister giggle with a stranger, like, ever.

“What’re you doing?” he inquires, finally bringing himself to interrupt the magical exchange he’s witnessing. You both look up as he approaches the table and Gabi proudly indicates your work of art.

“We made a snow globe!” she announces.

“Did you, now?” Eren fails to hold back a smile as he takes a look, carefully twisting the container in his hands.

“And we’re giving the snowman a story” Gabi grins, handing him one of the sheets on which she has drawn a scene from the tale you’re both trying to come up with.

His gaze flickers on you, amused, as if waiting for you to add something.

“His name’s Holly” your smile is uncharacteristically sheepish as you take back the page from his hands, accidentally grazing his fingers.

“Holly Berry” Gabi clarifies, which causes another sudden fit of laughter Eren can’t help but feel dragged into. He doesn’t really understand why or how he ends up sitting at the table as well, examining each drawing and handwritten paragraph you have produced. He can’t pinpoint the exact moment he starts coming up with ideas for the plot himself, suggesting that Holly Berry was actually a human raised in a village of snowmen for so long he eventually turned into one, although slightly imperfect, thus not always treated kindly by his fellow villagers. Eren Yeager actually takes a pencil in his hand and starts sketching drawings of gingerbread houses, candy cane forests and lakes of ribbon candies. He gives Holly Berry a human face and is offended by the way you steal the pencil from in between his fingers, mumbling that those features resemble more a potato than a human being. And yet he isn’t offended for long, because you reach across the table to fix the sketch with decisive and unforgiving strokes, but he can smell your shampoo and feel the warmth radiating from your face on his, so he has to lean forward just a tiny bit more.

“It does look better like this”, he concedes. The slight gruffness punctuating his words makes you look up and pull back to your chair immediately, in what definitely isn’t a suave motion. You know how attractive he is, because you’re not blind nor an idiot, although you’ve never been this close to him. He appears to reach a whole new level of attractiveness when his features are relaxed, cheeks slightly dusted with pink, eyes focused on whatever his skilled hands are tracing on a page. What makes it worse, is that he clearly knows. Which is not a bad thing per se, but just adds perfectly to that asshole attitude of his.

You know Eren Yeager because he’s like a celebrity. Best player of the Trost University men’s basketball team, decent grades, a party thrower that usually spends said parties sitting in a corner making out with hot girls, part of a large, loud group of friends, doesn’t smile much in public, usually dresses in black. You’ve seen him around campus for so long and yet only got to talk to him once, because of Armin, who works as a tutor as well. One afternoon, Eren had suddenly decided to barge in your friendly study session, annoyingly talking over and over and over again about trivial matters, not even acknowleding your presence until you asked him if he was aware of the interruption he was causing.

“Sorry, you are?”

“This is y/n, we tutor students together”, Armin cleared his throat, uncomfortable, apologetic gaze finding your annoyed one.

Eren had barely spared you a glance and a slight nod.

“’Kay, well, can’t you leave early today? Jean’s being a massive pain in my ass about tonight’s party and-”

“He can’t leave early, we’re busy”, you cut him off impatiently, pencil drumming on the textbook page opened in front of you.

He looked at you like he couldn’t believe you were still there.

“Listen, this kinda doesn’t concern you so can you give us a sec?”

Armin sighed as you put down the pencil in disbelief.

“No, I can’t give you a sec. I’m waiting for you to leave so we can resume a work that kinda doesn’t concern you”

With his eyebrow muscle contracting involuntarily in a twitch, Eren suddenly slammed his backpack onto the table, pulled out two thick textbooks, a notebook, one pencil, and stared at you with a challenging look in his sage gaze.

“It does now. I need help with this assignment”

Armin rolled his eyes as you pursed your lips, incredulous at such nerve.

“D’you think this is some sort of game?”

“Nah, a game would require you to remove that stick up your ass”

“Eren!”, Armin elbowed him in the arm, cheeks burning from an embarrassment that shouldn’t have been his.

So, in both your mind and conversations with friends, he became asshole, drunk on self-confidence, narcissistic Eren Yeager. Someone should’ve told him that being hot doesn’t give you a free card to also be a cocky fucker, so you simply won’t allow to whatever magic he works on everyone else to affect you as well. Even if his smile is warm as he jokingly throws a crumpled up piece of paper to his little sister, even if that dishevelled bun gives him a laid back look you can’t help but feel drawn to because it’s real, void of his usual, arrogant nonchalance.

“I’m kinda hungry” Gabi says after a while.

Eren glances at the clock hanging over the counter.

“Well, dad’s conference’s gonna last at least two more hours. Whatcha feel like eating? Grilled cheese?”

Her nose scrunches up in a disgusted but cute grimace.

“I’d like real food”

“Didn’t know bread and cheese were considered abstract food”

You can’t help but chuckle at the exchange and, as they both direct their gazes at you, an idea pops in your head.

“I could make noodles?”

Gabi perks up noticeably.

“Sure, we should have some instant noodles somewhere”, Eren gets up and walks towards the stove to start checking in drawers and cupboards. You get up as well, gently pushing him aside to grab a cutting board and carefully select what you need from the spices and sauces shelf: curry, cumin, white pepper, soy sauce. He looks at you, appalled, which makes you laugh again.

“I mean, I can make them from scratch if you don’t mind me messin' up your kitchen a bit. It’s healthier” you suggest with a shrug.

“Yes please!” Gabi cheers as her brother rolls his eyes at the enthusiasm. How on fuck did you manage to make her warm up to you that much in such a short time?

“I feel like you don’t get paid enough for this” he mumbles, to which you scoff.

“Don’t be ridiculous, it’s nothing. Gabi, why don’t you keep working in the living room? I’ll have to set the table” you turn around to glance at her and she gets up right away, diligently collecting everything she needs in her little arms. Eren waits until she’s out of the room to lean on the counter, arms crossed as he follows your every movement around the kitchen.

“Can you stop staring?” you ask, focused on emptying a generous amount of sesame oil in a non-stick frying pan.

“Why, do I make you nervous?”

“If you’re asking whether your presence is bothersome, the answer’s yes”

An amused smile tugs at his lips as he watches you cut a red onion into thin wedges and then add them to the pan while softly humming.

“Didn’t know we’re from the same town” Eren finds it only slightly annoying that you’re being such a sealed box to him. He’s seen the warmth you have so effortlessly unleashed on his sister and can now find it less astonishing, the fact that his best friend likes spending time with you.

You snort as you keep cutting other ingredients: mangetout, some baby park choi, three spring onions, baby corn. You’re good at it, even if you’re so fast his eyes can’t help but nervously flicker from your face to your fingers, tense at the idea that you migth cut off one of your digits. In his kitchen.

“Can you even remember my name?” the question is dripping with sarcasm but your hands are forced to come to a halt when he mutters it without hesitation. He finds pleasure in proving you wrong, in witnessing the way your shoulders had slightly jumped up in surprise. And you feel brain stuck on how his lips must’ve wrapped around your name, making it sound so much better than what you’re used to. It’s just a name and he’s just a guy, what kinda freaky black magic is he working?

“My sister likes you” as much as it’s fun to tease, he finds he enjoys seeing you at ease, relaxed enough to spend an entire afternoon giggling with a twelve year old and actually enjoying it. It works, because you instantly offer a gentle smile as you crush a large garlic clove with the pressure of your palm on the knife you’ve been using.

“I like her, too. It’s scary how clever she is”

“Runs in the family”

To his surpise, you can’t help but let out an airy laugh. It’s authentic, definitely not coated with snark, and he likes it. How many more times could he make you laugh like that again, he wonders?

“Can you pass me some udon noodles?” you ask after a few minutes of comfortable silence. By now everything you’re frying in that pan looks and smells delicious, the curry powder and soy sauce have given all ingredients a golden brown appearence that makes his stomach rumble. As you add some previously heated water to the pan, you can hear Eren opening drawer after drawer, until the distinct sound of plastic being ripped open makes you think he’s found what he’s looking for. You don’t have the time to turn around and reach out to grab the pack of noodles from his hand because he’s already right behind you, so close his chest actually presses to your back for a second as he reaches over to pour the noodles in the pan himself, his other hand casually gripping the counter inches away from your hip. The proximity is unexpected, shocking and pleasantly warm, so you swallow and clench the handle of the wooden spoon you’re using to stir the ingredients.

“Set the table, please” the strangled way words come out makes it sound as if you’re begging, which would usually entertain him but for some reason he can’t bring himself to find it funny, the way you’re luring him in. In fact, the whole situation is so far from being funny, he has to force his body to move away from yours and towards the cabinet where his mom keeps the plates, because what would become of him if you sensed he was on the verge of getting fucking hard from the domesticity of it all? For someone he’s never even actually talked to, no less. What kinda fucked up witchcraft were you practicing? And what on earth did you even use to wash your hair?

It’s soft, the way you call Gabi once the food is ready and it’s playful, the way you urge her to turn around and go wash her hands first, as she dramatically sighs but complies nevertheless. Against all odds where odds = vegetables, she ends up devouring two servings of what, he has to admit, is the best yaki udon he’s ever had. You’re barely picking at your small portion, too busy making sure Gabi eats all she wants.

By the end of a dinner mostly spent coming up with more story options for Holly Berry and giving patient answers to the hundreds questions Gabi has directed your way (Eren now knows your favorite color is turquoise, your younger brother’s name, what you’re going to give Christa as a christmas gift, when your birthday is, which exam took you the longest to study for) he has to insist both of you leave the dishes to him and go finish Holly’s story. You protest—it’s his house and you’re being paid to work—but he simply motions Gabi to drag you away and she surely complies, her small hand closing around yours to not so gently guide you out of the kitchen.

It’s hard not to marvel at the Yeagers’ living room, fire crackling in the wreath covered white marble fireplace beneath the 80+ inch tv mounted to the wall. In the corner stands a second christmas tree (they have one by the kitchen door as well), twice as high, glistening with golden and silver decorations, red ribbons sitting on alternated branches. The big, sectional sofa is covered in what’s probably soft leather and curled up on it is a snoozing tabby cat. Gabi drags you to the right side of the gigantic room, where a bigger, more elegant table stands in front of a gorgeous library with egg-crate shelves filled with books, finely framed family pictures, candles and white Chinese vases decorated with blue patterns made of dragons, clouds, tree branches filled with tiny flowers.

Of course Gabi has made a mess of the table but you smile as you sit, closer this time, letting her fill you up with the latest details she’s come up with for the now almost ten pages long story. She asks you to produce a few more sketches as she focuses on writing the big conclusion and you abide, the snow globe you have both created sitting in your periphereal view right next to your left arm.

“Are you gonna come over again?” she asks without looking up from the snow covered village she’s coloring in.

“If I’m needed and you don’t mind, sure” you smile, not looking at her either.

“What will we do if I don’t have any other schoolwork?”

“We could bake, start a puzzle, come up with another story to fill one of my killer notebooks in. Whatever you’d like”

This time she does look up to meet your gaze and you’re surprised to see the blush blossoming on her cheeks.

“Next time I could show you my room” she suggests while twisting an orange colored pencil in her hand.

“I’d love that” you smile again and she relaxes on the chair, acknowledging your reply with a slight nod.

Fifteen minutes later, you’re done. The story is complete (Holly eventually turns back into a human but decides not to leave the village he grew up in, to protect his friends and make sure his family of snowmen never melts) and the drawings are a wonderful addition to a heartwarming tale you’re sure her teacher is going to appreciate. You get up and help her tidy up the mess scattered across the table. As paper sheets are neatly piled, glitter pens are reunited with their caps as colored pencils with their box and the table is cleared of colorful shavings, Eren returns from the kitchen with hands buried in the pockets of his pajama bottoms and a fond smile tugging at his lips.

“So? How does Holly’s story end?” he asks, not once looking away from you.

“You’ll have to read it to find out” is the playful reply he gets and Eren crosses his heart that he will, in fact, read Holly Berry’s story. It’s only fair.

“I have to go now” you smile down at Gabi “I’ve had so much fun today, thank you for trusting me with your project”

She opens her mouth in a disappointed expression, hand reaching up to grab your sleeve and lightly pull.

“But we still have to watch that lame movie of yours!” she protests, outraged.

“Hey, I have already asked you to respect Balto” you jokingly reproach her “we’ll watch it next time, promise”

“Please, I want to watch it tonight! I won’t call it lame again!”

“Gabi, it’s really late—”

“Can I bribe you with hot cocoa?” Eren’s voice is softer than expected, which causes you to look at him, startled. Why isn’t he beaming at the idea of you finally leaving?

“With marshmallows” Gabi adds, tugging at your sleeve once again.

“Unless you’re so sick of my little sister you’re anxious to leave as soon as you can”

Low fucking blow.

“So long as I don’t miss the last bus home” you sigh, having barely the time to spare his smirk a glare before Gabi drags you all the way to the couch and promptly runs to the kitchen to get your backpack right after you fall on the soft fabric, waking the cat up. It’s not diffident as you might expect and after carefully sniffing the two fingers you politely offer as a personal introduction, it simply hops on your lap to curl up once again. A soft but demanding meow seems to ask for head scratches and, obviously, there’s nothing left to do but to comply.

“Are you plannin’ on winnin’ over every single Yeager family member?”

You don’t look at him, a weak attempt of playing your uneasiness off as indifference. But if there’s one thing you can’t guess about Eren Yeager, is that he’s in no rush, ever. Contrary to popular belief, he likes taking his time.

He’s not sure what it is about you, a stranger who’s barged in unannounced (well, to him, anyway) only to so effortlessly light up each room they’ve walked into. Someone capable of earning Gabi’s affection in such a short amount of time is bound to intrigue him at the very least, it’s normal, nothing unusual there. Right?

So what could be bothering him so much, he wonders while stirring cocoa powder, sugar, milk and salt in a saucepan. You haven’t been hostile, well, you’ve tried, but you were just unable to keep the facade up. You’ve laughed and smiled and joked and he feels this weird sting in the back of his throat just thinking about how nice of a person you must be on the daily, probably as good as the scent you carry around, and Eren has never wanted something as much as he now wants the book Christa is about to get as a christmas gift.

His hands are certainly big enough to comfortably balance tre mugs to bring to the couch with no risk of spilling but you’re so quick to turn around and reach over to get one, a soft I got it muttered with urgency as you pass the mug to Gabi and extend your hand to grab yours next. It’s probably for the best that his younger sister sits between the two of you and it makes him smile how invested she already is in a movie she didn’t even want to watch in the first place. The smile is still there when you both turn to look at him and laugh, Gabi pointing to his lips as he rolls his eyes and licks them clean of any whipped cream remains.

Gabi’s commentary slowly decreases in frequency and after ten minutes of silence, right as Balto and the sled team finally make it back to Nome, you feel a sudden, light weight on your shoulder. As you carefully take the empty mug out of her hands and place it on the coffee table, next to yours, you whisper an almost inaudible Eren.

“Should’ve guessed” the remark is gentle and there’s fondness in his gaze as he gets up to slowly pick his sister up, her arms finding their way around his neck as he balances her against his shoulder with a small hop.

“Be right back”  he whispers and you hum, briefly allowing your gaze to follow him as he exits the room, headed to the stairs. You get up as well, collect the emptied mugs and take them to the kitchen. Even if it’s late, so late you’ll probably have to find a cab and spend a fortune to reach your house, the least you can do is wash them and put them away. It’s been a long day but you’re not tired, quite the opposite actually. For whatever reason, you feel so on edge all you know is it’s time to leave that weird house, filled with a weird warmth that barely allows you to catch your breath, and get back to the comfort of your bed with its ice blue duvet and soft pillows.

“You’re missing the movie” the weird warmth carrier himself speaks, arms crossed, leaning into the door frame of the room as you dry your hands on your jeans.

“It’s for the best, I always cry at the end” you let out a faint chuckle and he mirrors it with a smile. He’s changed clothes and is now wearing a pair of washed out jeans and a v-neck shirt that has your gaze inevitably flicker to part of his inner forearm tattoo, one you can’t completely see because of how he’s standing. Does he also have one on his collarbone or are you seeing things?

“Before or after Rosy stops by the memorial in Central Park to thank Balto?”

“You’ve watched it! ” it’s hard to suppress the surprised smile immediately stretching your lips, the excitement in your voice. Damn it.

“And cried” he shrugs and you scoff as you walk past him to get your jacket from the coat rack by the front door.

“I’ll believe it when I see it” you put it on and pull the zipper, feeling some sort of discomfort on your back as you reach to grab your scarf too.

He’s in front of you in the blink of an eye, his hands casually slipping past and under the collar of your puffer jacket, fingers warm against your skin, nails only slightly grazing your neck as he fiddles around to pull out the hood of your sweatshirt. His fingers linger by your now feverish skin a few more seconds, definitely more than they should for someone who merely wanted to be of assistance.

Eren’s literally on the verge of asking you to stay. It doesn’t make sense, it’s ridiculous and lowkey pathetic, but he’s oh so bothered by the idea of losing whatever sudden, fragile wire you had managed to tie in the course of one afternoon. He wonders if you feel it, the way he’s so eerily drawn to you. And it’s not just because he hasn’t been laid in weeks (lost a bet to Connie and is now forced to keep it in his pants for a month), it’s not because he likes a challenge nor because he knows he’s been an asshole. You just feel so authentic. Unexpected.

As you let out a quivering breath, green eyes silently asking yours something you absolutely cannot pinpoint, the front door unlocks and your neck is left cold once again.

Eren’s parents come inside, his mom is a little taken aback at first but then puts the pieces together and begins to profusely apologize for both not having warned you that her son was back early and the fact that it’s so late you’ve probably already missed the last bus home.

“Please don’t worry about it, I had the best time with Gabi” you smile shyly, palms raised in an attempt to quell the string of embarrassed apologies threatening to submerge you. Carla looks at her son for some sort of reassurance, brows still distressingly furrowed.

Eren hums from behind you.

“Can’t remember the last time she had so much fun. She’s already asleep”

They both smile and Grisha gives you a soft nod while taking off his coat.

“Thank you. We know she’s not the easiest to deal with”

“Took her ten minutes to win her over” Eren speaks again, he feels closer this time but you don’t dare turn around. Carla puts both her hands on your shoulders and squeezes lightly.

“Please accept an extra for the trouble”

“There’s been no trouble Mrs. Yeager, I promise” you attempt a reassuring smile and she sighs, turning to look at her husband with a troubled look in her big eyes.

“Let us call you a cab at least” phone is already in his hand as he gently pushes back the thin framed glasses on his nose.

“No need dad, I’ll drop her off”

This time you do turn around, mouth open on the verge of objection, but he’s already put a jacket on and has your backpack in his hand.

“Good idea. Take my car” Grisha takes the keys out of the pocket of his now hung coat and casually throws them at his son.

“You really don’t need to” you do your best to sound polite but Eren can see the daggers you’re shooting him and simply smirks, eyes rolling by default.

“Always so polemic” he mutters under his breath as his dad opens the front door once again and there’s really nothing left to do but to sigh into your scarf, repeat ten more times or so that you had a wonderful time with Gabi and you’d be happy to be back whenever they’d need you to and awkwardly return the hug Carla decides to abruptly give you on your way out.

You climb onto the passenger seat of the black mercedes-benz waiting by the end of the driveway and you exhale with relief as your butt comes in contact with the heated leather of the seat.

“I meant it, y’know. I live half an hour away” you mutter while fiddling to fasten your seatbelt. Eren glances at the rear window as he skillfully turns the steering wheel, one hand closing on the gear knob to move the lever gently.

“D’you always protest against everything?” the question is friendly as he releases the clutch pedal and presses on the accelerator. The engine purrs pleasantly underneath you.

“If needed” you shrug, determined to focus on the houses and gardens you’re driving by at a sustained speed. It’s dark enough for you can spot glistening trees by windows and sparkly christmas decorations in yards. You briefly wonder if your dad’s feeling better, good enough to have had a few spoons of the soup you’ve left him.

“You forgot the movie at mine” Eren says, with studied casualness. It’s the perfect excuse to ask you to come over again, or to bring it back himself. Hell, he will hand it to you in the middle of any class if he has to.

“Let it be my christmas gift to Gabi. She never got to see how it ends”

His hand tightens around the steering wheel.

“How’re you so good with kids?”

Finally, you turn to peer at him, head pressed against the warm leather seat. It’s kinda annoying, how he’s wearing a jacket, because you still can’t find out what his tattoo looks like. However, you do take notice of how pretty his nose is, of the shape of his jawline and of how the intermittent, orangy light of street lamps shines on the darkness of his hair, eyebrows, eyelashes. And who even has cheekbones like that?

When his gaze flickers to you with a soft yet amused, questioning hum, you remember he’d asked you a question.

“I used to take care of my brother when dad was at work” you clear your throat, directing your attention to the road in front of you once again “and I like spending time with ‘em. It’s a nice break from adulthood”

He hums again but this time you don’t dare look at him.

“So you’re good with kids, school, great at drawing and cooking. Is there something you’re bad at?”

“So many things” you softly chuckle “besides, you’re good with kids and at drawing too”

“How d’you know? That I’m good with kids”

“Gabi told me you’re the best brother in the world. But you haven’t heard it from me”

“Not really a secret, I already knew that” he sounds cocky but you can guess from his tone that he's smiling. All day long he’s looked at his sister with a fondness impossible to conceal, the kind that stems from pure, raw affection. The kind that soothed you, because how to not be happy before the evidence of Gabi having an older brother that loves her so much? It reminded you of how you used to be with your brother, the way he’d scoff and tell your dad never to leave him with you all day again, only to slide onto the mattress beside you in the middle of the night.

“I wish I still had a little brother to take care of” you find yourself mumbling.

Eren glances at you, to his annoyance you’re still facing the other way.

“How old is he?”

“Old enough to smoke in his room but still dumb enough to think I can’t smell it” you snort and he laughs a genuine laugh. The car stops at a red light, even though the streets are empty. It’s good to know that he drives responsibly, or maybe it’s just because it’s his dad’s car, who knows.

“I’ll have to teach him my ways, he’ll never get caught again” he’s half joking but you pull a face, rolling your eyes.

“You would” it’s inevitable, turning your head to look at him again. It’s also a big ass mistake, because who in hell looks that attractive underneath a basic, red traffic light?

“What’s that supposed to mean?” his pitch is amused but the way he’s staring at you almost, almost makes you wince. Okay so, eyes? Dangerous. Note taken. You focus on the bridge of his nose instead.

“You seem like the type of person to do that. Get away with things”

Eren Yeager isn’t one to get insecure. In fact, he doesn’t even remember the last time he has felt uncertainty, or self-doubt. And now he ever so slightly shuffles in his seat, suddenly self-conscious and preoccupied with what you think of him. Not concerned with the superficial thoughts you might have about his cocky attitude or vanity, he’s worried about what you might think of him as a person. How bad does your opinion actually get?

“And you don’t like that” he states, with studied but careful measure. You frown.

“Well, duh. You just volunteered to cover for my brother”

He lets out a puff of air from his nose, both relieved and annoyed at your humor. Guess he’ll have to add deflecting to the list of things you’re good at.

“What did you get him for christmas?” he asks as his eyes are on the road again, the traffic light turning green. Safe from his piercing gaze, you don’t look away yet.

“The new pokemon legends game so he can say I’m the best sister in the world and forget about it ten minutes later” Eren’s smile mirrors yours by default as his grip on the steering wheel relaxes.

“What’s Gabi going to get?”

“A portable speaker, so she can blast Taylor Swift for the whole neighborhood to hear”

“Excellent music taste” you grin and he rolls his eyes with fake exhaustion.

The rest of the trip is comfortably quiet and so peaceful you struggle to keep your eyes open. When the car stops right before your house and you reach across the backseat to grab your backpack, there’s a weird gloom churning in the pit of your stomach. You clear your throat as you unlock the door, one leg already out of the vehicle.

“Thank you” your tone is soft as you glance at him one last time. Eren nods, hands now awkwardly resting on his knees.

You step out of the car and close the door as delicately as possible.

Things being back home for the holidays usually means:

a)indulging in your dad’s creamy homemade hot cocoa, b) having at least one christmas movie night with Historia, c) hugging your brother until he pinches your hip because he can’t breathe from how tight you're squeezing him, d) cooking and eating and napping on repeat

Things being back home for the holidays doesn’t usually mean:

a) forgetting your favorite sweater at your dorm like a dumbass, b) finding out your dad fell prey of food poisoning, c) acknowledging that your favorite blanket is nowhere to be found, d) having Eren Yeager call you by your name right after you step out of his car, only to peer at you with staggering eyes and ask

“What are you doing on new year’s eve?”

part 2

Innocence Part 2

Pairing: Neteyam x fem!Metkayina reader. Reader is 18, Neteyam is aged up to 19. Part 3 in the works. 

Summary:  You’re the youngest daughter of Tonowari and are very sheltered and innocent. After you’re punished for sneaking away with Neteyam, you worry about when you’ll see him next. 

Warnings: Angry parents, mature themes, size kink, fingering, slight dacryphillia, awkwardness? I’m not really sure how to write warnings but there you go.  Please keep in mind I have 0 experience writing the scenes at all, so they may be super awkward. I apologize in advance. 

word count: 9,593 

Notes: I tried getting this out asap, so there may be some grammatical or spelling errors. I tried to tag as many people as I could, so I’m very sorry if i missed you! Once again, I want to thank all of you for the amazing response to part 2!!! I really, really hope this lives up to your expectations and is as good as the first part :) Also, I use a dictionary I found online for most Na’vi words, but they don’t have a word for punishment, so I used the French word for revenge. 

As the ilu came around the bend, finally nearing Awa’atlu, you felt your stomach drop. You could see the red glow of the torches from here, surprised to see so many of your clan out this late. They should have been at home eating or sleeping, not out here searching for you. 

“Oh Great Mother,” You groaned. “The whole village is still awake.” 

Neteyam stopped the animal in the shallow water just outside the village. The two of you reluctantly dismounted. You brushed the hair out of your face as you stood from the water, and started towards the village. A hand grabbed your arm, stopping your movements.  

“Y/n, look at me.” Neteyam tugged you around to face him, his hand coming to hold your cheek. “No matter what happens tonight, we will be okay. They might try to punish me, they might try to keep you from me, but I will come back to you as many times as I have to.” 

He hoped you could tell how serious he was. He had never felt this way about anyone, and Neteyam could only pray that you felt the same. “I know that Eywa has fated us to meet,” He placed his hand on your chest, over the space where your heart beat. “I can feel it, here.” He tapped the spot, drawing a short, dry laugh from you. 

He pulled you into his arms for a tight hug, arms around your neck. You instinctively melted into his embrace, wrapping your own arms around his body and pressing your head to his chest. Having Neteyam’s arms around you made you feel safe, cherished. He was so gentle with you, holding you like he thought you were going to float away if he let go.

“Y/n?” Your sister’s voice brought you back down to earth. You quickly pulled away from Neteyam, turning to face her. 

She rushed over to you and yanked you into a hug. “Where have you been? We have been looking for you everywhere.” Her voice was relieved, glad you were home safe. Tsireya pulled back a bit and her gaze shot towards the Omatikaya boy standing stiffly behind you. “What are you doing with him?” She was confused, eyebrows furrowed as she looked to you for answers.

“Are you okay?” She asked, voice dropping to a low whisper.   

You thought about lying to her, but Tsireya was the one person you had never been able to keep secrets from. She would see through any story you tried to tell her. Instead, you reached for her hand and attempted to explain yourself. “Sister, it is not what you think. You know mom and dad never let me do anything, and I knew if I asked to leave they would say no….” You trailed off, giving her a meek smile.

“He’s my friend.” 

Tsireya was relieved that nothing terrible had happened. However, she knew how trusting you could be; You never questioned other people’s intentions, choosing to only see the best in them. She worried that he had taken advantage of you. 

“Have you mated with him?” Her question was aimed at you but her eyes were focused wearily on Neteyam.

The man in question was quick to defend your honor. “No! We have done nothing like that.”

You felt your ears begin to warm. You didn’t think you guys had done anything bad, but your activities early had felt special, private, and…kind of dirty.

But you knew, or rather you thought you knew, that mating was the forming of tsaheylu, which you guys hadn’t done. So you hastily agreed with Neteyam.

Your sister’s eyes widened as she looked between the two of you, inspecting the red hue on your ears and the sheepish look on Neteyam’s face.

“But you did something, didn’t you?” You assumed she was referring to the way Neteyam had touched you earlier, and you remembered him briefly mentioning “potential mates.” Did she mean to ask if you kissed? This whole process was confusing, and you made a mental note to ask her later. 

Keep reading

thinking about... mikasa finding your number in her serial cheater boyfriend's (eren) phone. her jealousy of you immediately morphing into that for her boyfriend for getting access to you first. Upon seeing the nudes you’ve sent him, she’d scoff at disgust as to how he even got lucky enough to get your attention in the first place. her feelings for him subsiding upon seeing you—literal perfection. the sight of your plump ass and dripping cunt turning her on along with those sweet sweet moans in the video of you humping your pillow you’d sent.

not being able to control herself, she’d send the pics and videos to herself just to lock herself in the bedroom, fluttering her eyes shut and grind onto her own pillow. imagining she was rubbing her cunt against yours, your cries echoing in her ears as the video played aloud. she only wished she knew what name to cry out as she came, squirting all over the pillow (something eren had never made her do) but unfortunately he never saved your number or mentioned it in the conversations you had.

during the times where eren invites you over to the apartment when she’s away, mikasa will come back to find your panties under the bed. the only reasons she knows they are yours is because she’s seen them in the pictures you’ve sent eren. she steals them before eren even notices you left them behind and keeps them for herself. she’ll slip them on to toy with her clit through the thin fabric, her arousal only increasing upon noting that her juices have mixed with yours.

eventually poor mikasa gets fed up with fantasizing about having you and chooses to take initiative to set things in motion so that she finally does get a taste of that sweet cunt that she hears eren mention when having phone sex with you. so, mikasa steals your number from his phone. She texts you and plays the role of the heartbroken girl asking for answers about her boyfriends cheating.

“hey, so sorry to bother you. I was wondering how you knew eren? I found your number in his phone and.. well I have a few questions.”

“is it possible for us to meet up?”

she invites you to a cafe nearby and though hesitant to join her you oblige when she reassures you that she has no anger towards you and just wants clarity in the situation. things go smooth and the two of you meet up a few times after that, just for the sake of getting to know one another and eren becomes a forgotten topic.

one thing leads to another, with flirtatious words like pretty girl and babe, glances being passed back and forth the two of you end up back at the very apartment you’d hooked up with eren in. her hands gripping at your ass, the very ass she’s been dying to get her hands on as your lips are locked with hers. the two of you struggle to make it to the bed the pooling heat in both your cores becoming unbearable. you end up on the couch. she wastes no time, sliding your panties off and burying her face into your cunt, sucking away at your clit. “oh..my..more..please..” your hips bucking against her face as she slides her fingers through your folds, she tries her best to slurp up your juices dripping beneath you but you're making such a mess it’s hard for her to keep up.

“like that, baby?” “erens been neglecting this pretty pussy, he doesn’t know how to take care of you does he?” her thumb drawing circles into your clit. you shake your head too dizzy to form a response you let out moans, your thighs entrapping her face in your cunt with your hand to her head. speak of the devil, eren enters the apartment, with his new hook up on his arm that he had (your replacement due to you blowing him off to hang with mikasa )..not expecting mikasa to be home at this time— let alone be faced with the sight of his side chick being devoured by his girlfriend . he brings a hand to his forehead and sighs.

“you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me..”

my masterlist!

⌦ bloodhound

⌖ shidou ryusei x fem!reader

tw. violence, blood, petnames, PDA bc shidou is a hellion like that, mentions of drugs, mentions of illegal activity, barely edited bc this was written in like half an hour DFGHJK

⌁ this is for you bby @katasstrophy mwah <33 ur tag gt me thinking many, many thoughts......

"I'm going to squash you like a bug under my toe."

Ryusei's taunts aren't anything new in the ring, but this close, you swore you could smell the bloodlust coming from him.

His bare abs flex and pulse under the clinical fluorescent light as he circles his latest opponent (victim, really), looking for the right moment to strike; the right chink in the armour to devour them whole.

Keeping up with his theme of scaring off every man before they had a chance to take a swipe at him, he plasters on a manic grin, one which made the hairs on the back of your neck stand.

In the ring, Shidou Ryusei was known as the demonic bloodhound. His opponents were wary of his unwavering stamina, acute hits and bullying taunts. Above all? They were scared shitless of his inexplicable ability to sniff out a man's weakness in a few minutes.

Not everybody could rise above his level—a Platinum—and he was one of the best bets any bored devil could root for.

You felt them behind you, in the shadows, humming like ants in your bloodstream.

Waiting for your lover to make the first move. To effortlessly win them some easy coke cash for the night.

Assuming his favourite front stance, he curls his fingers in a come-hither motion, a teasing smile tugging his lips as he goads the other man. It works.

The poor asshole's nostrils flare, and he charges without thinking—right into Ryusei's trap.

One swift roundhouse kick, a grapple and a deft movement which involved a blistering series of side kicks later, his opponent crashed into the opposing cage wall, completely out cold.

The silent crowd erupts in cheers, and Shidou jeers at his unconscious competition, tongue caught between his teeth and manic pink eyes circling the crowd. Searching for you.

He finds you and you find him again, arms vining tightly around his neck, his sturdy arms lifting you up for your thighs to hitch around his narrow waist. A smear of blood is on his cheek and his knuckles are split from Blue Lock's ruthless anti-protection gear rule.

It was protocol—every fighter worth his salt had to man up and face potential debilitating injuries head on. Thankfully for you, Shidou is not as beaten up as before, though you can't say the same for the other man being wheeled out into the medic bay.

"Did you see me?" he rasped, and in front of the entire crowd, grips your ass cheeks, kneading them with sure hands. "That third punch was for you, baby girl. I made it hurt a bit more—all dopamine and shit. Good stuff just for you, doll face."

"I did, Ryu, I did. I'm so proud of you." He grins and practically sucks your lips with his, kissing you with no hesitation; uncaring for the numerous voyeuristic eyes drinking in both your passion for the other.

"Say that again," he mumbles, and you don't have to look down to find his cock half-hard pressed right at your quivering entrance. "Say it, angel face. Say it again."

The desperation coating his tone makes your stomach flip and you fight back a moan when he starts to snap his hips up, impatient to have you. "I'm proud," you manage to whimper. "S-so proud of you, Ryu."

"That's my girl."

You try not to let your worry show and dampen the mood. Putting on a bright grin, your shaky fingers touch his cheeks, pulling him in for another kiss. And another. And one more before he brings you into the locker room for you to tend to his wounds nicely.

Those kisses which spoke volumes of the reassurance that he would be safe and sound by your side for one more day.

© lalunanymph.

immature | suguru geto

words : 1k

warnings : fem!reader, black coded, mating press, dumbification, car sex, belly bulge, slight college!au, exboyfriend!geto, possessive!geto, toxic!geto

“who is he?”

you choke as your ex-boyfriend, suguru geto, acknowledged you for the first time since your breakup last year. he looked so frustrated - eyes dark and muscles tense as he caged you into a secluded corner, his body practically shielding you from the blaring music and dancing crowd of the surrounding frat party so that you could focus solely on him.

“s-suguru,” you sputter, trying your best to ignore your racing heartbeat. “the hell are you talking about?”

“don’t play dumb.” his eyes narrowed as he looked down at you from the bridge of his nose. that stare, the way he towered over you - it brought back some feelings that were all too familiar. “the guy you came here with, who is he?”

it took a second for you to process his words. you realize he’s talking about travis, a guy from your sociology class who had offered to be your date to the party tonight. he had left to grab you both drinks shortly after you arrived, providing suguru an opportunity to make a move the instant he began his search for alcohol.

you huffed, crossing your arms over your chest, emphasizing your cleavage beneath your baby blue crop top. you were primed to tell him how desperate he looked right now, but fuck, suguru was standing so close. your senses were overloaded by his scent - eucalyptus with a hint of whiskey reserve, a cologne you bought for him on his last birthday.

and a stark reminder of why you really wish you hadn’t come to this party in the first place.

“um, that’s none of your business,” you match his gaze, priding yourself over your cool, level tone, “so get out of my face, please and thank you.”

suguru raised a sharp brow. “i see you still have that nasty attitude.”

“and what about it?”

he shrugs, the ends of his lips curling in a devilish smirk. “nothing. it just tells me you haven’t been getting fucked properly. what, having trouble finding someone who can handle you?”

you bit the inside of your cheek. travis was the first guy you’ve allowed yourself to go out with since your breakup. he was kind, considerate, and sensitive. a stark contrast from suguru. and having only been on one other date with him, sex was still too early an activity for your…acquaintanceship, if you will.

you try not to squirm where you stood, the beginnings of desire fluttering in your pussy the longer you were under your ex’s scrutiny. “again, that’s none of your business, suguru.”

“why, worried i’ll scare him away?” he chuckles. “‘cause i will.”

you scoff, changing the subject. “i’m not worried, i’m impressed you’re acting this jealous over someone you’re not fucking anymore.”

“i may not be fucking you, but whether you like it or not, you’re still mine,” suguru drawls as he leans closer to you, licking his lips in warning, “and i’m sure your pussy knows it. so you might want to fix that mouth of yours, sweetness.”

you rolled your eyes at his nickname for you, masking the intense wave of arousal flooding your panties under the guise of annoyance, preferring to not give your ex the satisfaction of seeing how much his presence still affected you. no matter how well your pussy responded to his words - traitor.

“god, suguru, you’re so immature! we’re not together anymore, so chill with that possessive shit and leave me alone!”

you move past him, ignoring the electricity pulsing in your fingertips as you pushed against his sturdy bicep, and went to maneuver your way through the frat party in search for your date. but like you were connected by a tether, suguru tugged you back to him, his large hand splayed against the small of your back as he pressed you against his chest.

you gasped, suddenly feeling every rigid muscle hidden behind the fabric of his shirt, and the prominent bulge growing beneath his belt. the thickness of it served as a reminder of all the times suguru had you drooling, incoherent, and twitching from overstimulation.

…why did you break up again?

“last chance, sweetness,” suguru’s hand moves to palm your ass through your jeans, his grip as vicious as his tone, “fix that attitude.”

what happened next was involuntary - like your pussy overrode your brain, spurred on by a mixture of danger and excitement, and chose your response with the hopes of finally being satisfied after months of neglect. your date and his drinks suddenly long forgotten.

“make me.”

_______________________________________________

you ended up in the back of his tesla model x - folded beneath suguru as he dropped his dick deep into your guts, feeding your pussy consistent, heavy strokes while you clawed at his abdomen like a maniac.

he ignored every single one of your cries, ripping orgasm after orgasm from you with his sight hyper-focused on the creamy ring frothing at the base of his dick as he repeatedly buried himself to the hilt.

“absolutely pathetic,” he hissed as you convulsed around him, your body succumbing to yet another orgasm - this one more violent than the last - which he continued to fuck you through, despite your desperate screams for reprieve.

“s-suguru, please! m’sorry!”

it’s been so long since you felt like this. since he fucked you like this. you were on the verge of a euphoric death, the only thing keeping you tethered to this earthly plane being his hold on you - but even then you were hanging by a thread.

“you’re sorry, hm?” suguru licked his lips as he gripped the back of your knees, spreading your legs wider. “what’re you sorry for, sweetness? for testing me? leaving me?”

you were babbling, your mind far too strung to even formulate a proper response. the best you could do was a mixture of please and sorry amidst your hiccuping sobs. suguru leaned forward, slowing his pace to lick away your tears and plant ginger kisses in their wake. an act so sudden, so gentle for someone who just spent the last hour rearranging your insides.

“it’s okay, baby, i forgive you,” he coos, “y’know why?”

he doesn’t wait for your response. instead, he takes one of your shaky hands and moves it between you, positioning your palm over your navel, where the bulge from his dick was the most prominent.

“‘cause nobody can do this but me.”

♡ ˙ ˖ ✧ — hockey player!jean can get a lil mean when he loses a game [ ft jean kirstein (kirschtein), modern au, sports au, profanity, mean dom!jean in 4k hd ultra, female anatomy, her/she pronouns, afab, established relationship (reader and jean are married with a child), reader implied to black, creampie, impact play, oral ( f.receiving), slight spit kink, spanking, breeding kink, pet name usage (good girl, babygirl) he's just a lil salty he lost a game, visuals at the end, wc: 2.2k , minors dni pls, ]

[ click here to join taglist ♡ click here for aot masterlist ]

WHEN JEAN LOST A GAME, YOU ALWAYS SEEMED TO WALK ON EGGSHELLS. The nicely decorated home seem to grow silent as a mouse when your family entered the mansion. Your son seemed to fall asleep during the long ride from the ice rink to the house, which you only tucked him in his bed after stripping him out of his clothes. Neatly folding up the hockey jersey with his father's number on it and placing it away, you placed a loving kiss on top of his sandy brown colored curls before exiting the room. You were sure to close the door behind you since you weren't sure how Jean was going to react due to the loss of the game.

When Jean's team lost, he grew quiet. A little too quiet. His interviews with ESPN and other sports outlets weren't as cheerful and confident. You could literally see the frustration and sadness in his light brown hues. The rides home are always silent other than the questions your five-year-old would ask randomly. As a new wag (an obnoxious term for wives & girlfriends of sports players), you always ask the other partners how exactly do they handle the huge losses.

Eren's wife Emilia would only shrug, mumbling about how Eren usually forgets about the loss after a day or two before he's back on the ice perfecting any screw-ups he made during the game. While Connie's girlfriend CJ would make a subtle joke about giving him head after the game to make him forget about the disappointing end of the hockey team's season.

You walked towards the master bedroom of your home, your body leaning against the door frame as you're watching Jean tug off the Grey Nike sweatshirt he wore. He tossed it in the laundry hamper in the corner of your room, now only in a white wifebeater. His toned armed flexed with each movement he made as he shuffled around the room. Occasionally his gold link chain with your initials and the two of your son's initials moved with each quick motion he did.

"Do you want to talk about it? I know it was such an important game," Your tone was soft-spoken and came out as if you were whispering.

"Strip." was the only thing Jean uttered as he was undoing the string on his Nike jogger pants.

Your lip gloss-covered lips parted to speak, but in the back of your mind, you were just thinking about making Jean happy. He was going through some wild emotions at the moment and who were you to object against them. They lost the opportunity to compete for the Stanley Cup, so you knew the man in front of you was seeing complete red at the moment.

"Keep my jersey on though. Everything else off." He huffed.

You only stepped further inside the room, your back backing into the door to close it just so you won't wake up your son. Your fingers begin to unbutton the jeans you were wearing, slowly tugging them off your smooth legs. Soon your panties joined them also as Jean's index finger motioned for you to come here. Each step you took, you could feel the cool breeze in your room hit your bare bottom and it sent a chill down your spine.

When you were face to face with Jean, he didn't say much. However, you could feel how hot he was. How frustrated he was. One harsh push on your king-sized bed caused your lips to let out a gasp. Your body hitting the bed like a fragile lil doll that Jean wanted to play with. He's grabbing a hold of your ankle that was decorated with the gold anklet with his name on it with a cursive font. His lips placed soft kisses on the inside of your ankle causing you to squirm right under his firm touch. You were expecting him to treat you like a fragile rag doll that had just got snitched up. But boy was you wrong. In one motion, he had turned your body around so that you were laying on your stomach, mumbling about how he needed you so badly.

"Be a pretty wife and get on all fours, m'kay," He said lowly.

You did what you were told, getting on all fours. The oversized jersey that formally belonged to Jean raised just a bit to be able to see the cup of your ass. A low yelp tumbled out your mouth when you felt Jean's large hands slap at the flesh of your ass before you could feel his hand massage at the stinging flesh. A sharp hiss came out of you when you felt another slap on the opposite cheek, Jean once again repeating the process of massaging your ass cheeks once again. He's teasingly letting a coo tumble off his lips as you could only stutter out his name like a broken record.

"Just want to taste you real quick," His words came out so soft yet intimidating. He angled your body in such a provocative way, you felt like such a filthy woman. "Just stay like that for me please," he says before his callous fingertips traced alongside your puffy lips. The teasing action caused your skin to be littered with goosebumps.

Once again you desperately coughed up a yelp when you felt him slap at your throbbing cunt that was aching for his attention. The similar motion he did with your asscheek, Jean's multimillion-dollar massaged at your pussy. This time your wetness coating his fingers ever so negligibly. "You like it when I do that huh?" He asked.

He didn't wait for you to respond before he's kneeling to taste you. The flat of his tongue collided with your puffy lips to lick up your juices that formed just by his spankings. A weak whimper came out of you as you seemed to relax in his touch as he was eating you out. When Jean wanted to taste, he wanted to taste every fiber of you. Practically burying his face in the messiness in between your thighs which caused your toes to curl.

"Jean." You moaned out as you felt him glide his tongue up your slit. The lewd sound of him slurping up the mess he was making bounced off the bedroom walls. You could feel the sharpness of his nose poking you from the back, the man practically was devouring you at the moment. You were so close to breaking the perfect arch, but you knew what consequences were to come.

"Fuck." You moaned before you were reaching out clawing at his sandy brown hair. Your fingers grabbed a hold of his hair as you rocked backward upon his kitten licks. Your orgasm was right there, you were so close to the finish line while your knees were growing hazy.

But Jean soon pulled away, letting your body fall limp like a deflated balloon that's lost all its air. Your poor cunt felt like it was pulsing, your orgasm was snatched away from you and the lump of pleasurable despair disappeared.

"I can't have you cummin' just yet baby girl," Jean commented. The little facial hair he had was stained with your juices. His upper lip lingered with your scent and his tongue tasted just like you. Maybe that made the man be in a complete trance all over again.

His grey sweatpants grew tight at the crotch area. His dick was screaming to be released from the tight compress of his sweats and boxers. Jean quickly pushed down his sweats and stepped out of them like an over-enthusiastic virgin that was about to get a spliff of pussy for the first time. His blood was fuming and he still was a bit frustrated because of the loss. Especially considering the number of penalties he racked up during the game. His cock bulged in the black-colored Ethika boxers (another sponsorship he received for singing a multimillion-dollar contract) before he's tugging them down also. His thick cock tapped at his toned torso when his boxers came down also.

Once again he's grabbing onto you like a doll, dragging your whithering body towards the end of the bed. His hand firmly pushed on your lower back to make sure your arch was perfect. It was a wonderful sight to see his beautiful wife completely exposed like this to him. A lovely ass up face down position just so he can have his way with him.

You were anticipating for Jean to shove his cock inside you. Despite it being the same dick you've rode, sucked, choked on, and the list goes on, you still found yourself chewing your lower lip off at adjusting to his girth. He was a grower for sure with a slight curve that could kiss at that spot that caused your pedicures toes to curl. Your favorite part of his dick was his tip. It was a splendid sight when you would climb under the covers to suck him off when he was complaining about morning wood. It was a nice mushroom shape with a slit that gushed out so much cum when he wanted to.

"You know if you relax. You'll get used to it quicker." Jean suggested. With his slender digits climbing up the jersey you had to undo the bra you were wearing.

With quickness, you're removing your bra tossing it to the side with ease. Your hips bucking to receive any form of friction between Jean and yourself, but you could only feel his tip tap at your sopping entrance. "Don't be so fuckin' rude, and wait," Jean uttered as he grabbed a hold of his cock. He rubbed his tip at your entrance. Teasing you bit by bit before he's pooling all of the spit in his mouth and letting it drop down on his cock. His hand stroked his dick quickly before he once again was poking at your entrance.

"You want to make me feel better after that horrible game right?" Jean questioned.

You only nod as you were on all fours, your fingers grasping at the sheets below you before your mouth gasped apart feeling him stretch you out. He didn't even wait until you adjusted to his huge size before he was pushing himself inside you like a madman. His hands grasping at your asscheeks just to feel upon you a little more. His thrusts weren't the usual slow and passionate filled, they were harsher. He was genuinely fucking you like he hated you. Like it was your fault that the team was two points short of going to the play for the Stanley Cup. You could only let out poor pathetic moans, moaning out for Jean.

"That's a good fuckin' girl, you're taking my dick so well," Jean uttered as his hips bucked forward into the plush of your ass. His eyes glowed in excitement at the sight of your pretty pussy swallowing him with each thrust. The mixture of your wetness and his spit he coated on his coat imprinted on your thighs like a nasty masterpiece.

He had one hand holding your back down, while the other was grasping at the hockey jersey that had his last name paced on it. He gripped the jersey severely to have some form of control over his brass thrusts. Ignoring your whimpers for him to slow down or you were going to cum.

"Don't cum." Jean uttered out.

His words came out more like a command, a dangerous warning that you wanted to poke at until he exploded.

"Please Jean..." You whined into the pillow, which at this point was stained with your own drool and tears.

"What did I say, hm?" He questioned. His right hand slapped at your ass cheek causing you to let out a whine.

"Don't...cum," You hiccupped between moans.

Jean would only hum in agreement. His hips irrationally bottomed down inside your dripping cunt before he pinned your arms behind your back. The tight grip he had on you caused you to chew at your lip as if it was some form of chew toy. "We'll cum together like it's supposed to fuckin' be," He commented.

You felt so lightheaded at the intense amount of stimulation upon your body. Your limbs felt like they were screaming for you to relax and the burning sensation that was bubbling in the pit of your stomach was ready to burst.

Jean's hold he had on your folded arms only grew tight with each shove forward into your pussy. He could feel his balls grow heavy each time he tapped at that one spot that caused your eyes to cruise in the back of your head. Jean's eyes were shifted closed as he was so pussy drunk, the harsh groan that grumbled off the back of his neck caused his adam's apple to move. His thick white cum filled you up to the brim, as you moaned through the sensation. Jean brought the ends of his wifebeater up to his teeth, nibbling at the ends as he rocked you on his cock slowly. He could feel your pussy pulsing around his cock milking him of every droplet of his cum. His brown hues practically glistened at the creamy sight of a white ring around his cock with each slow thrust.

When he pulled out slowly, letting the hold he had on you go and watching you collapse breathlessly on your stomach. His fingers combed through his hair that seemed to stick to his forehead due to the intense workout.

"I feel much better now baby, thank you."

song + visuals — visuals

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