Mikey's Girl

Mikey's girl

Warning : minors DNI, 16+. Suggestive, heavy/strong language, blood, injury, Bonten being gossips but nothing more, kinda comical and funny !

Pairing : Bonten! Mikey x Female! Reader

Summary : what about meeting the Bonten ?

Since the day he met you, Mikey tried his best to keep you away from his gang life. Until that night...

Note : This is a short one shot, no one requested this, it's just a small thing I've been imagining before going to bed lol right after writing this I'll be back to your requests guys !

WORD COUNT : Around 6000

Running out of time.

Running out of thoughts.

Pedal to the floor, Sanzu pressed it until the dash indicated a number way out of speed limits.

A road, a race.

Not against a car, against time.

Against death.

And he didn't even knew where to go, which turn to take next, all he knew was that, damn, Ran is a motherfucker and Rindou an asshole, but Mikey would kill him if the elder died on his backseat.

-" Fuck, Mikey, we can't go to the hospital. "

That one, sitting right on the passenger seat had his fist against his mouth, biting hard on his fingers. Before he could even look at Sanzu or answer, Rindou's voice cut off from behind.

-" I don't fucking care about prison, you go to that shitty hospital. "

Dark irises peered through the car's central mirror, at Rindou's shape sitting on the backseat.His brother had his head his lap and his feet on Kakucho's.

The youngest Haitani sustained his boss' look, though trembling from inside, he kept a stoic face stained with his brother's blood, hands pressing Ran's thigh to slow down the bleeding.

If the road wasn't blurry from the speed Sanzu was hitting, if Ran Haitani was not bleeding to death on the backseat of his car, Mikey would have slashed Rindou's throat open for that order. Yet, Rindou was stained with his elder brother's blood, on the verge of losing him.

How couldn't he understand ? Especially him, who's brother have been stolen from him, who couldn't even get a look at his face one last time ? Through his hollow chest, there was still something beating, beating for him to do the right thing.

The right thing, the right one, the idea clicked in his head.

-" Take the right turn to Ebisu. Tsubaki's district. "

Bonten's second nodded, took the right turn just in time to head for Ebisu and was almost startled by Rindou's voice shouting from behind.

-" Mikey you fucking serious ? You... You know what ? Drop us. "

-" Rin' " Kakucho tried only to be cut off again by that one.

-" Just drop us at the hospital and you can go back to the headquarters. "

Pleading eye glance was dressed by an angry stare in Rindou's eyes, one that has been promptly ignored by Mikey who just started guiding Sanzu through the dimly lit streets.

Scoffing loudly, the Haitani brought his eyes to his brother's head on his lap, droopy eyes,shallow breathing, and a burning fever.

What the fuck is going on ? He wanted to scream.

-" I... I don't get it, you removed the bullet from his leg, why ain't he getting better ?"

Kakucho, receiving his question sighed loudly trying to calm his frantic heartbeats. Wiping the sweat off his forehead, along with the worry for his friend, he shrugged.

-" I don't know, maybe an artery has been touched ?"

-" And what the hell do we do-"

They were almost propelled forward by the power at which Sanzu had parked, immediately noticing that they were now in a residential area.

-" Wh-"

-" Stay here. I'll be back in a minute. "

Mikey left no room for argument, quickly getting out of the car and making his way to one of the houses, knocking at the door.

Be here, he prayed inside. Be here...

Multiple questions and death glares from Rindou toward the house after, the lights inside the house turned on.

2.am in the morning they knock at your door, every woman should have been afraid to even get up from bed.

But how to even be scared ?

There, all your dreams taking the shape of a man sharing your bed since weeks and weeks, standing in your front porch light.

The magnet to your smile, Sano Manjiro, he was a regular of your front door, the gift of the late night for you. So much, you hadn't even changed from your Pajama shorts and strapped top, nothing he hadn't seen anyway.

Only for a minute, the universe pretended it loved him. For a split second, there was just... Manjiro, and you. Because his heart had beaten like when he was a kid, a happy kid, seeing the smile you offered him with sleepy eyes.

What a shame if his old friends knew, after years of trying, the thing lifting him from the floor to be a weak small woman...

But your smile dropped as soon, remarking that he wasn't coming inside like he used to do, taking the hand you offered that it took him some time to get used to, but eventually started leaning in your touch.

-" A bitch, really ?" Rindou scoffed from the car, far from your eyes and ears. Indignation filled his blood but he was soon shushed by Sanzu and a frowning Kakucho.

-" She's not one of our girls" Sanzu explained, confused. " I don't know this place. "

They three watched their boss interacting with the young woman from afar, and stiffened when both of them started walking toward the car before Mikey opened the rear door from Rindou's side.

-" Here he is. " He showed you a rather tall man, head and feet resting on two frowning men legs. The street as well as the inside of the car were dimly lit, you could not see much more than blood flowing from the middle of his thigh, where his pants have been ripped. Mikey opened the door a little bit more when you crouched down next to the car, startled by the hand of the man gripping yours even before you could touch the injured man's face.

Guilt was a foreign principle for Rindou yet he could have sworn that was exactly what he had felt the minute the girl's doe eyes peered at him, maybe far, far from that sad reality where he was holding his brother's bleeding body, he would've took a minute to admire how beautiful she was...

Sensing his reluctance toward you, you pulled your hand away from him and peered at Mikey, standing next to you. You might have missed the dark glare he sent toward Rindou...

-" You told me he has fever, right ?"

He nodded, turning back to you. Frowning, you looked at the three men inside the car who already were eyeing you curiously.

-" Do you still have the bullet ?"

-" Are you fucking kidding me ?" The one with the purple mullet answered you, you pulled your head back surprised by the hostility in his tone. " Why in hell would we k-"

-" It's here " the one with the scarred face cut him off with a hurry, leaning toward the car's floor to reach for the bullet he threw there previously. He hadn't missed the step Mikey had took toward the car after hearing Rindou's answer, it was nor the time neither the place for fighting.

Taking the bullet from him, at first nothing seemed special about it. Yet you had your idea about the fever, and went to smell that one. Other than the smell of smoke and blood, and there was an after smell to it. One you used to smell at the hospital shifts...

The ball has been damaged, either from the impact or when removed from his body, but what had caught your attention was the dark, heavy paste adorning the crooked bullet, your head fell slightly backward in a curse.

-" Fuck... "

All of them frowned, but Mikey did because you rarely cursed, Rindou was faster to ask about what the fuck you mean. His words.

-" The bullets have been laced by curare. A deadly poison. "

His heart missed several beats, eyes going naturally back to his brother who already had passed out, his throat felt tight, and he couldn't even focus on your words when you stood up and mumbled to Mikey to get him inside your house.

Turning the living room lights on, Mikey moved your table out of the way while Rindou and Kakucho lifted Ran's body until your couch.

- " I'll be back in a minute" you whispered to Mikey before heading toward the bathroom, working at a hospital, your first aid kit was more like a whole surgery equipment.

All of their eyes watched you as you came back to the living room, hands full of medical equipment you put on the table before crouching down next to Ran who was lying on your couch, and there under the light they could finally take a better look at you.

And they were stunned...

Mainly because well, you looked like nothing of the usual girls they had at their clubs. Your face was empty of all make-up, your hair was loose falling around your face, but how attractive was that raw, natural sight...

Kakucho leaning with his elbows on the back of the couch, Rindou standing right next to him and Sanzu standing next to the armchair Mikey sat on, all of them eyes were on you.

And to say questions were eating their brain alive wouldn't be out of place. It was obvious with every rapid flutter of your lashes hitting those cheekbones, from your wide-eyed gaze, too pretty, too young, too pure for this, them, and him.

But you hands didn't shook, you didn't hesitated a second before wrapping the sterilized tourniquet around his leg, and to say the strength you put in that one woke Ran up screaming from pain... Well, you might be perfect for Mikey, they thought.

-" The hell-" Ran arched his back and breathed heavily, hand reaching his thigh to remove the pressure, as Rindou's hand pushed him flat on the couch, a soft one stopped him, he landed his eyes on you and-

It might have been the poison, the pain, but no one ever looked at him so... Truly.

-" I know it hurts, but you've been poisoned. I don't want the curare to reach your heart".

And just like that, a man surrendered. It all took a pretty shiny eye color, smooth hair surrounding feminine features, and a tiny voice coming from enticing lips to wreck his guards and make him drop his hand, make him take the pain.

Okay, you thought to yourself. This is do or die, the shallow breathing he had could be either because of the pain, or because the curare reached his lungs...

Was it too late or not, you were gonna give him the antidote.

-" Why'd you made this ?" The one with the mullet gestured toward the tourniquet, you went to answer but he cut you off again. " You better not make him lose a leg or whatever shit you've done it for, if he lost it-"

-" If he lost it what ?" Your voice rose up, dropping the syringe you previously had in hand to put both of your palms flat on the couch.

-" This, i'm only tryna repair your mistake. " You glared at him under everyone's surprised expressions. " Who do you think you are, removing the bullet as if you were doctor House ? That's the result of your recklessness, the poison spread faster and I'm trying here to limit it so you better shut up and not shout at me under my own roof".

Stunned, once again, no one found the words actually. It was obvious Rindou was upset, from how tight he was clenching his fists, however you managed to convince him to let you do your job.

As for Mikey, he simply could not take his eyes off of you.

You, his moonlight secret, the tide of his feelings, ones he thought he would never experience again. It all started with a smile, and before he could understand anything, a night a week, two nights a week, to an additional tooth brush in your bathroom, left t-shirts, and this house became a home.

Sure he knew you deserved way better, yet once you let the devil in your front porch come inside, again, and again, it felt right. He held you tight, and that was all that you seemed to need, his bruising hold, his cold hands and rough touches.

Took and kept him in your hands in order not to break him as if he was a promise, let the devil inside and kissed all of his demons.

You were all softness and delicacy, that was mainly why he has been surprised by the daggers your eyes threw at Rindou, and damn his heart missed some beats when you got all of his men tail between their legs with just a higher voice. That is when pride bloomed in his chest, seeing you head high in order not to drop the crown, his crown.

His queen.

It did not stopped him from glaring at Rindou however, while you were busy administering the treatment to his brother. Needless to say has it been another random girl of their clubs, he would not even care.

But you, the missing heart beat, the late night rendezvous, the tatoo-lingering kiss, he felt personally offended.

Thanks God, after minutes of giving him the treatment, the so-called Ran seemed more connected to reality. The tourniquet must have been done right before the poison could reach any higher parts and it was only his luck. And thank God, curare's antidote was a simple myasthenia's treatment, one you could easily have home, otherwise the ending would have been different.

They all watched you as you stitched him and him wincing from time to time, then the man with a scar along his face helped you throwing all the dirt.

Strange was it how you didn't even felt threatened. An angel standing in silk pajama lingerie, surrounded by demons who could not keep their eyes off of your bare legs under your camisole shorts, off of your breasts perking up under the silk strapped top.

Why would you be afraid ? Satan himself glared at his demons and soon their four pairs of eyes found the floor very much more interesting than his angel.

-" How ya feeling ?" Rindou asked his brother once you left to " make some coffee".

-" I'm good, thanks to her. You should... You kinda fucked up tho " he answered while eyeing his boss from the corner of his eye. Rindou who was leaning against the couch sighed, he knew he kind of loses it everytime Ran would be in the middle of it, and he regretted it now, really.

-" Yeah, your girl saved the day Mikey".

That was Sanzu trying to get crumbs of the truth and Kakucho elbowing him discreetly. Truth be said, he has been smelling the smoke and now he caught the fire. Usually he would be driving his boss home after missions, the late months were the exception since he preferred using his own bike, one that he didn't touched since years actually.

His usual spot at the VIP floor of the club where he would be silently mourning has been empty, and oh that was definitely not a white hair of his on his black turtleneck.

Mikey knew perfectly what Sanzu was doing and therefore just ignored his statement, would it confirm his thought ? That you were his girl? Let that sink in.

-" Here !" Your soft voice almost sang, bringing a busy tray with several coffee cups. You put that one on the table and quickly made your way back to the kitchen, fighting the smile on your face once Mikey's eyes got stuck on the plate of his favorite pastries you brought and put on the table. Needless to say he was the first one to reach them, your cooking never failed to impress him.

-" Thank you, for this and... " The man with a scar and heterochromatic eyes started, before Rindou grabbed a bowl of coffee and locked eyes with you.

-" And sorry for... You know. He's my brother and... "

-" I get it " you flashed a smile that had his heart sinking in his chest, impression or not the room warmed like water with it.

-" We own you one " That was Ran, lazily smiling with droopy eyes from the couch. He more than everyone in there was shamelessly eyeing you from head to toe, the fever he had experienced previously waking up his lower belly now that he could take a better look at you.

Their boss knew, and they all knew the unspoken forbidden words choking everyone of them at that moment ; what in the heaven, hell or earth had put such a blessing in Manjiro Sano's blood stained hands ?

-" And those ones are Mikey's favorites by the way " he precised toward the pastries.

You chuckled, and everyone, even the most heartless of them all felt it, the light seeping through all of their darkness.

-" I know, I always have some for him. "

Always, there was it, the fire Sanzu had spotted from miles. Rindou's weary expression turned into a whole surprised face, because damn, you were it. Perfect, either was it your face, your features, or just how every curve of you was a kiss for the eyes.

It was your beauty for Ran, the blooming young one, the forbidden thing for dirty men like them.

It was your devotion and honey-dripping self for Kakucho, how is it that their boss haven't drained you of all colors ?

It was your fierce for Sanzu, how you put Rindou back in his place just as if you were raised by Mikey himself.

And your wit for Rindou, useful hands, smartness, knew from A to Z how to deal with a poisoned bullet.

And they could go on for the night, why this house shouldn't be soiled by him, nor by them actually. The fact was, his hand reached for your waist and pulled you into his lap, and the smile you gave him could light up the whole town.

And there she was, his solace in the grip of his hands. He knew what they all thought and he thought it too.

Too good, too pretty, too much for him. One day, you would figure it out and leave him but, his heart beats were a countdown until you would realize it.

And you'd blew him away. He'd be blue.

Until then, he would take them soul crashing glances and enchanted kisses, see would the darkness swallow the light ? Or would the latter shine through?

-" Well... Think it's time for us to go " Kakucho cleared his throat and threw warning glances at his three co-workers. They were staring.

-" Oh, just leave him on the couch. It's better not to shake his leg for now " you warned Rindou who was about to help Ran to get up, the elder brother gulped down at the enticing thought of staying and they all looked at Mikey.

-" I'm gonna take a shower."

That was it, his answer. He would be staying, for sure he would never leave you alone with Ran. Well, he would have been staying anyway...

Sanzu's eyes widened slightly as he peered at his co-workers, Rindou had actually the same reaction, until Kakucho implicitly pushed all of them outside, waving good-bye at all of you and telling Ran to have some rest.

Back to the car, and Kakucho counted.

One, two, three...

-" The actual fuck ?"

The whole neighborhood must have been woken up by Sanzu's loudness at this rate, he turned to look at Rindou sitting on the passenger seat and Kakucho on the back.

-" The actual fuck is Mikey getting his kicks with the glamour-puss when we thought he was depressed as hell " Rindou replied, pulling his hair back still incredulous of what he just witnessed.

-" Could you drive us all home already ? " Kakucho rolled his eyes, earning curious glances from his friends.

-" Really? That's all you got to say ?"

-" Well..." He sighed and rubbed his eyelids. "She is obviously... something else, I'm happy for him though, man has been through hell. "

-" Something else ? " Rindou mimicked. " She's a damn dreamboat. "

-" And she's a nurse, maybe even a doctor. Like, she has degrees hanging on her wall-"

-" Fresh clean pussy " The youngest Haitani chuckled soon followed by Sanzu.

-" Think Mikey fucks her as hard as he kicks ?"

-" Let's watch how she walks tomorrow and we'll know ".

-" You two are the reason why we can't have a Bible " Kakucho winced in a disgusted face, soon enough they started the car and he knew he would not stop hearing about it...

•••

Washing the thoughts under the water, the devil would have traded his hell, to let the water purify his sins. Once in a lifetime, Satan had wished to repent, all to be worthy of that damn forbidden fruit. Once in a lifetime his chest wasn't empty, it was filled with concrete-like worries, not good enough, not good at all.

As always, too swallowed in his own darkness, Mikey didn't heard the bathroom's door opening nor the clothes hitting the floor, and almost got startled by the warm hands wrapping around him.

When you are young you know nothing, they say. But you knew. He was walking some of his darkest alleys again, so hard to follow him through.

But it was alright, you just held him and if you two stumbled in the dark, then you'd fall together.

No words were needed, you turned him around and all the unspoken were in your eyes. Fever dream kisses, light touches on his cheeks, whispered sweet nothings built a wall between him and his demons.

Your hands pushed harder on his shoulders, frowning he looked at you and you whispered a " Trust me". He trusted no one.

But...

He dropped on his knees for you.

You smiled at him and your fingertips started massaging his scalp, washing his hair for him. Mikey hummed in silence, and slowly, like a sleepy child his head fell between your breasts.

Even your heart beats hummed a sweet melody for him, steady and slow, like whispering no rush, I'm not going anywhere.

-" You're so pretty... " You whispered, and smiled when he just growled.

As if you don't like it, you thought and rolled your eyes. And he did like it indeed, but he would never admit, burying his head deeper against you.

How could, whatever God after years of cursed fate, gift him such a blessing ? His arms tightened around you in another bruising hold, but you didn't said anything. You just took all of him, and he wondered was there a part of him you didn't took ? Did you even left anything for him, once you'd be gone ?

-" You gotta close your eyes " you whispered grabbing the shampoo bottle, Mikey looked up toward you.

No, they would come back.

And you were there, raw for him, nothing in between your two naked bodies except the water washing the sins away. The only sight that would ever give him goosebumps, you just had to be there, and he was not empty anymore.

-" I... don't like darkness."

And you were the light. Why would he close his eyes ?

On his knees in front of you the king admitted defeat, undressing his fears, and you swore to be there whenever his crown would be too heavy to carry.

The love caressed his cheek softly, no need to run, in your arms his darkness was tamed.

You drew stars around his scars, and like a blood stain marked him forever. Holy was the vision of the devil getting his wings washed, did it really matter if the angel would be stained ?

This was Manjiro Sano trying. He would change the ending, Peter would not lose Wendy, the bridges would not burn down, and the sun would rise on a whole new day after the dark night.

'cause after the poison, the blood, there were only two bodies loving each other in the middle of the night. One single heart beat, one skin, where you ended ? Where he began ? Holding yourselves so tightly it was just too hard to tell.

And in the end of the day, it was all that mattered.

•••

-" Dude, I'm telling ya. She's his girlfriend, not a bitch " Rindou explained to Kokonoi, Takeomi and Mochi. The first sitting behind his desk, he was working until late night when they all came in talking non sense about their boss having an affair, Takeomi was about to leave as well as Mochi.

-" we're talking about Mikey... Like, Mikey, like... White hair, dark impulse, Dorayaki ?" Kokonoi inquired with a confused face, only for both Rindou and Sanzu to nod their heads.

-" I don't believe you. "

-" No one fucking talked to you " Haruchiyo snapped toward his brother who just ignored him.

-" Either you do or not, he's home with her now, and Ran is there too. " Rindou pointed only to be stopped by Mochi.

-" What the fuck is Ran doing ther- you know what ? I don't want to know these kind of details."

-" He's been injured, and she is a nurse-"

-" A doctor, I'm telling you " Sanzu popped a pill from his bottle with a suggestive look.

-" And she's fucking hot, like... Lava hot. "

-" Like « I'm on the cover of playboy magazine » Hot " Haruchiyo added, Kokonoi rolled his eyes again.

-" I honestly don't trust your taste in women."

-" Kakucho ?" Rindou asked for the latter's say in the matter. That one who just sat on the couch sighed, crossing his legs and looked at Kokonoi dead in the eyes.

-" She's fucking gorgeous. "

-" Aha !" That was Sanzu, obviously, who was told he was too loud from his brother and who answered him with a middle finger.

It was usually this way,Bonten, all blood and guns from the outside, gossip girls behind closed doors.

Takeomi was about to add that he trusted Kakucho's taste more than the two others when the sound of Rindou's phone echoed through the room.

-" It's a Video call from Ran " he frowned, some of them gathered around him as soon as he answered it, seeing his brother's face on the screen.

-" Yo ! Aren't ya supposed to be sleeping?"

But no sign if tiredness was perceived in his face, he strangely was more... Interested.

-" What the actual glamour-puss fuck ?" He asked, getting his face even closer from the screen earning a chuckle from Mochi and Sanzu.

-" That's exactly what I said !" His brother pointed with wide eyes, but Ran was not done yet...

-" Wait bro, that's... "

He stood silent for a minute, dropping the phone on the couch which made his brother and co-workers frown.

-" Hey, you there ?" Silence... " Ran ?!"

Suddenly, the screen showed his wide eyes and a smug grin again.

-" Damn you'll never believe me, but I'm hearing moans, fucking moans !" He whispered-yelled the last part, the reactions were either a scoff or wide eyes.

-" quit shitting and go to sleep alr-"

-" I swear to fucking God, Rin' you know my face when I'm lying. They're in the bathroom, and there's fucking moans !"

They watched the younger brother's eyes widening, yes he knew his face when he was lying, and it was not that one.

-" Oh fuck-"

-" How's it ?" Kokonoi inquired curiously, like all of them trying to hear anything.

-" Quite sexy actually, softest moans I've ever heard I think... "

-" Can you record ?" Sanzu asked before getting an incredulous look from Kakucho.

-" Ran go to fucking sleep-" that one was cut off by Rindou.

-" No, can you get up ? "

-" Steal panties !"

" Mikey's gonna bury you alive " Mochi warned him, the confusion previously in the room replaced by an incredible unusual light atmosphere. They were simply acting as children and they knew it, but it was all so new coming from their boss, the usual iceberg that no one could even help it.

Even Kakucho, the one calling them out for their behaviours found the thought of your moans... Interesting.

-" I'm not stealing the panties. " Ran rolled his eyes, and in front of his friend's silence, he added. " but I'm recording. "

-" You all are so twist-"

It hit, it sounded, and weighted like a ton falling on their shoulders. Upstairs, where both of you were minding your own business, a particular thrust from Mikey sent you to overdrive, had your eyes rolling in the back of your head and legs trembling, crying his name so loud they heard you from the other side of the line.

All were kind of stunned, the voice moaning being cotton-candy soft, well now it had nothing holy...

-" Damn..." Ran's eyes drifted toward th ceiling, gulping down.

Honestly, I don't know if I cringed so hard or if I laughed writing this, I'll just let you decide which one to pick but I couldn't just not write it, it has been haunting my brain for a whole night lol.

-" Keep.your.both.hands.on.the.phone. !"

PART TWO : SOON TO COME

SANZU'S GIRL : SOON TO COME

Network : @tokyo-ballroom @downtown-roponggi

“Gentlemen,” Mikey says.

His voice doesn’t rise above its regular volume but the single word is enough to quiet the room of executives settled around the conference table.

He's standing at one end, a hand in the pocket of his slacks, the other tapping a random rhythm into the mahogany surface of the table as he regards his...what did you say these men were to him?

They're your friends Mikey.

His friends. Right.

He eyes Ran Haitani who balances on the back legs of the chair he's sitting on precariously. His loafer-clad feet crossed at the ankles on the table. Next to him, his brother sighs deeply, his thumb and forefinger massaging circles into the bridge of his nose.

Opposite them, Kokonoi and Kakucho appear deceptively calm. Kokonoi is chewing diligently on a piece of gum. His attempt at quitting cigarettes. Kakucho has one arm slung along the back of Koko's chair, his legs spread as he slouches in his chair. His eyes are closed, his head tipped back against the headrest. If Mikey didn't know better he'd think Kakucho was recovering from a night out drinking.

Of course, the truth is much wilder than Kakucho spending a night on the town.

Takeomi is absent. Naturally. Sanzu is sprawled in his own chair at the other end of the table. His guns are on the table as he shines his katana.

Mikey considers everything he's been through with the men in this room.

If you can let me in, then you can let them in.

He shudders as your words wash through him. You're like his fucking conscience. It's simultaneously the most unnerving and wonderful experience he's ever had. A voice of reason that isn't being paid in his blood money. He glances at Kakucho again quickly.

If you think these men have stuck around because you're paying them then you're dumber than I thought, Mikey.

Sanzu gently places his katana on the table and shakes out the little cloth he was using to shine it. He gives Mikey his full attention. the action seems to stir the others who also turn to him. Kakucho lifts a single brow at him in question.

And the action sets of something akin to...gratitude in Mikey. It's a wildly unfamiliar sensation and he has to quell the urge to rub his chest.

They would die for you, Mikey.

Yes, they would. He catches a glimpse of a cut running along Rindou Haitani's chest as the man shifts in his chair. The skin is shiny and puckered from healing and a pang goes off in his chest that almost knocks him on his ass.

These men would die for him.

A sudden clarity comes over him and he has to blink several times to reorient himself. It feels almost like someone has ripped whatever ill-fitting glasses he was wearing before off and he can see clearly now. Jesus Christ, these men would die for him.

He sinks heavily into his own chair. The weight of his previous oversight anchors him to the cushion.

"I have news," he blurts.

The words suck the air out of the room. Silence ensues for a handful of seconds and then...

"Oh my God, you knocked her up!"

Rindou reaches Ran before Mikey can react to his exclaimed words and slaps his brother in the back of the head.

"I-" Mikey starts, blinking in confusion. What?

"Jesus Christ Ran, so what if he has?" Rindou interrupts, glaring at his brother.

"I di-" Mikey tries again, his brows furrowed.

"That actually...that makes sense," Kokonoi says slowly, nodding. "I saw her eat half a cake by herself the other night."

Kakcuho is gaping at Mikey. But there's a twinkle in his eye that makes Mikey nervous.

"Wait a min-"

"I thought you'd never notice," Sanzu laughs from the other end of the table and Mikey's skin chills.

What?

"What?" He zones out. Something in his voice must get the others attention because the room goes quiet.

"That's not...the news?" Ran squints at him, his chair making a thudding sound as he settles onto all four legs.

Mikey swallows around a ball of spit that seems to be stuck in the back of his throat. Pregnant.

No- she can't be- she- but- but the crying...and the sensitive breasts. the cravings.

"I was going to say I'm getting married," he says, hollowly.

"Oh shit," Sanzu breathes.

"Fuck, Mikey."

"I thought it was obvi-" Kokonoi shrugs.

"She agreed to marry you?" Ran interjects. "Without-" he pauses to glance around the room quickly and then lowers his voice as he finishes his question "-putting up a fight?"

That gets the rooms attention.

"What the fuck kinda question is that?" Kakucho frowns. "She's in love with him."

That seems to throw Ran for a loop. His eyes narrow on Mikey who's still stupified by the realization that he might become a father and husband in the same breath.

"Maybe there is hope for me," Ran says.

Sanzu snaps at him. "Are you implying Mikey doesn't deserve her?"

Ran splutters. "What? No- Why the fuck would I-"

"Just be quiet," Rindou sighs.

"You really think she's pregnant?" Mikey asks, interrupting their squabble.

"Yes," Koko nods.

"Absolutely,” Rindou agrees.

"Half a fucking cake Mikey...in a single sitting."

Mikey blanches. “She’s pregnant.”

Koko chuckles.

“She’s fucking pregnant,” he repeats. There’s a note of distress in his tone. “With a baby. A child!?”

Kakucho gives him a knowing look. “Congratulations, Manjiro.”

Sanzu, who has been uncharacteristically quiet stands. “This means she can’t say no to a protection detail anymore.”

Mikey’s brain stutters. Protection. Because shes pregnant with your child and about to become your wife. She’s singlehandedly the most important person to Bonten. And to him.

“Oh fuck.”

Rindou shakes his head. “We need to start personally vetting Bonten members now.”

“Why did it take a child and a marriage to convince you of that and not the two times we’ve been double crossed?” Kakucho questions.

“Do you want to deal with a Mikey whose wife and child are hurt or murdered?”

The room falls quiet as all eyes fall to Kokonoi. A heavy tension settles on Mikey’s shoulders. He’s having a child. Maybe. And getting married. Definitely.

And he runs one of the most dangerous organizations in the world. With over a hundred thousand employees worldwide. And stakes in every major and even some minor pies, in every industry.

He’s not sure of much except his own success and frankly, inhuman work ethic. But as the realization that his life is changing. Developing into something better, something more. He’s sure that if anything ever happens to you or his unborn child…he would unravel.

“Can we circle back to her wanting to marry him?” Ran asks, breaking the tension. “Without being coerced?”

---

Garou Predator/Prey Kink

(Can I just say we don’t discuss this shit enough and it’s high time we do??? Anyways this is just a brief thought that came to mind and I thought it was hot so lmk if you agree w/ any of these)

Garou undoubtedly has developed the predator/prey kink over time and it manifests itself in many different ways such as…

-Taking full advantage when you wear something that gives him “easy access” like a short sundress or a strapless top

-Holding you down during backshots so you can’t run away from that dick when you’re overstimulated and feel like you can’t cum anymore. He swells with pride when he proves you wrong too

-Catching you when you run away from him and throwing you over his shoulder to carry you to your shared bedroom (yktv 😎)

-OR if he catches you by pinning you down and you thrash against him helplessly trying to get away, expect him to start grinding on you after that

-The hard-on he gets when he demonstrates his strength in one of his scary ass ways and you’re noticeably intimidated

-His obsession with hearing you yelp when he surprises you with a firm smack on your ass

-When you find yourself practically immobile after he fucks multiple orgasms out of you (bonus points if you had an attitude all damn day)

-When all the sex positions he has you in almost feel like wrestling moves (don’t even get me started on that mating press boo😩)

-How he secretly loves waking up in the morning with you trapped in his embrace, even better if you wake him up trying to squirm out of his grasp. Don’t be surprised if morning sex comes right after 🙃

Anyways let me go my ass to bed

---

18+ nsfw mdni, nsfw visuals at the end

7:30pm - All training sessions for the day ended. Armin was so excited. He said patiently in your room, waiting for you. He was scheduled to be off duty tomorrow, and so were you out of pure coincidence. Armin could hardly contain himself. He looked forward to catch up with you, hear about your day and all about the week that had just passed, staying up late and sleeping in the next morning, holding you and enjoying your presence. He flipped back on your pillows and took a deep inhale in one of them. They smelled just like you.

9:30pm - The intrusive thoughts come out at night, when all is quiet and there's nothing else to do. Just by existing, you tamed the beats and hushed the voices that lived in Armin's head. He was starting to get sleepy, but his demons buzzed around in his mind like wasps to their nests. Training ended two hours ago, what could you possibly be doing for that long? Perhaps you had gotten sick and fainted somewhere no one could find you? What if you had gotten kidnapped? Did you get lost somehow?

10:30pm - Armin couldn't wait any longer. He just had a bad feeling in his gut. He sped walked to the training grounds, heart anxiously thumping in his chest. He finally found you. You weren't dead, thank goodness, but you weren't "training" at all.

You were goofing off with Jean, Sasha, and Connie. Your laugh filling the outside air with a sweet song. However, Armin clenched his fists at the sight he witnessed, peaking around the side of a building and staying in the shadows as to not be seen. Connie was running around with you riding on his back. The four of you were in stitches. Armin hadn't seen you laugh that hard in a long time. At least, not around him.

Your legs were wrapped around Connie's waist and arms holding onto his neck. He could guarantee that Connie could feel your breasts pressed against his back, and he could also guarantee that he probably liked it. You had never asked Armin to give you a ride on his back. Come to think of it, Armin wasn't completely sure if he could pick you up like that at all. He didn't have the upper body strength compared to Connie... or Jean... or Eren, while he's thinking about it.

Armin suddenly tasted blood, realizing he had bit the inside of his cheek a little too hard. His stomach also began to hurt, as well as his palm from his nails digging into his skin.

11:30pm - He stomped back to his own room. Angry was an understatement. Rage was more like it. Armin was sitting in your room on your bed waiting for you for hours but here you were, blowing him off to hitch rides from Connie? How could you do this to him? Had you forgotten that Armin was expecting you? Would you rather hang out with your friends than him? You saw them every day, but haven't spent time with Armin in a week. Quality time is one of his love languages. Was he not enough?

Armin was beside himself. Hot, furious tears ran down his face as he rocked back and forth on his mattress in a desperate attempt to sooth himself. He could hear your voice in his mind reminding him to breath, "in through your nose, out through your mouth. Inhale, exhale." But that wasn't working. He tucked is head in between his knees and counted backwards from one hundred. That also didn't help.

Armin was beside himself. Hot, furious tears ran down his face as he rocked back and forth on his mattress in a desperate attempt to sooth himself. He could hear your voice in his mind reminding him to breath, "in through your nose, out through your mouth. Inhale, exhale." But that wasn't working. He tucked is head in between his knees and counted backwards from one hundred. That also didn't help.

With one clean swipe, Armin cleared everything off his desk and sent it to the floor with a loud clatter. Books and papers flying across the room. He gave his desk chair a swift kick, crashing into the wall. His temper tantrum was also of no help. He had half a mind to throw his oil lamp out of the window, but that would cause a fire. Armin was livid, but not enough to commit arson.

He sat back on his bed, grabbing his pillow and scream-crying into the down feathers. What exactly did this mean? Did you not want to see Armin at all? Did you still love him?

12:30am - Though you were the reason Armin was in so much pain, he still needed you to sooth him. You were all he wanted, all he needed.

Armin slithered through the dark halls like a snake. He went back to your room, wondering if you had finally decided to go where you were supposed to be. He licked his lips and knocked on the door politely. Much to his relief, you answered on the other side with a "Yes?" Armin swung the door open, slipping through, and closing it quietly.

"There you are!" You smiled at him.

Genuine and warm, happy to see him. Your day clothes were laid out on the bed, you adjusted your night shirt on your shoulders. From the looks of it, you had just changed.

"I was wondering when you were going to show up. I didn't realize it was past midnight, I totally lost track of time." You rolled your eyes at yourself as you folded your clothes and put them in your wardrobe. Armin stood in the middle of the room, hands nervously rubbing together.

"I'm literally, so glad we have the day of tomorrow. We can actually spend some time together. What do you want to do? I was thinking we could- Oh, are you okay? What's wrong?" Your tone changed immediately upon noticing Armin in his current expression.

Armin had The Look. His eyes were red, plush lips turned into a deep frown, eyebrows scrunched together, and his nose pink. You knew he had been crying not too long ago.

"Yeah, I just..." Armin rubbed the back of his neck.

He had to think, and quick. What would you say if he mentioned what he saw, how he felt neglected and left out? Would you be upset over his spying? Guilt caused goosebumps to rise on his skin, feeling silly in the wake of his tantrum. You had already mentioned that you let time slip from you and that you were excited to be with him. He didn't want to make you feel bad, even though your lapse of proper time management and being close with another guy did make Armin upset.

"Lots of work stuff, you know? Paperwork... I'm not the greatest at math." Armin played it cool. You nodded in agreement, crossing the room to place a hand on his shoulder.

"Oh, I see. Don't let the numbers get to you. Math isn't real anyway." You lightly joked. You peppered kisses on Armin's cheek. This was just what he needed; your undivided attention. His negativity dissipated with each little smooch.

1:30am - Naturally you both stayed up talking. You were still wide awake, while Armin's eyes got heavier and heavier. Screaming, crying, throwing and kicking things took a lot of energy out of him. It was Armin's idea to give you a back massage. He needed to feel you under him, rub and squeeze all over you, silently reclaiming what is his. You laid on your stomach, while Armin straddled your backside.

Connie may have won the invisible fight, but he had definitely lost imaginary the war that only took place in Armin's head. At the end of the night, it was Armin who got to kiss you on the back of your neck, who got to caress your soft skin and tell you how pretty you are, who got to hear your angelic groans of relaxation under his firm grip. His fury had subsided long ago, but anxiety still lingered. His drowsiness amplified his anxiety to ninty-nine.

"Do you love me, baby?" Armin asked. You hummed.

"From this day, until my last day." You confirmed, head resting on your hands and eyes sewn shut. Armin kept working on your shoulders.

"No one else? Just me, right?" He quizzed.

"No one."

Armin paused. This was exactly what he wanted to hear, but it wasn't enough. From his outburst to your words of affirmation, he needed more. Blood drained from his head and down to his cock, growing harder at the thought of what he wanted to do; Reclaim you, remind you that Armin -- and only Armin -- can make you happy in ways no one else can. He wanted to rid anyone else touch that might be lingering on your skin, or in your mind.

Armin laid himself on top of you, putting all of his weight onto your back. He buried a hand in your hair and pulled. Hard.

"Promise?" He tested. Armin pulled your hair so your neck would crane backwards, exposing the pulse at your throat. You swallowed, a dark fuzz of arousal coating your vision.

"I promise." You agreed.

2:30am - You didn't really think twice about Armin's behavior. It was no secret to you that Armin dealt with his own insecurities. But, who doesn't? You weren't exempt either, and you were no stranger about requiring emotional reassurance. Not always, but sex was often an escape from the bitch of a reality you both lived. In your personal opinion, Armin fucked you the best when he was needy and had a bad day.

It was almost three in the morning, so out of a consideration of those sleeping in their rooms next door to yours, Armin clamped a hand over your mouth. You panted into his palm whilst he pounded himself into from behind, laying directly on top of you. You couldn't get away if you wanted to, which you didn't. Armin still kept a firm grip in your hair.

"You like the way my cock feels inside of you, love?" Armin huffed in your ear. You moaned quietly under his hand.

"I can't hear you." Armin hissed. He removed his hand.

"Yes, Armin, you feel so fucking good." You whimper. Armin hummed in return. You could feel the bass in his chest through your ribcage.

He cradled your jaw in his hand, forcing your neck to turn as much as it could to look make you look at him. Forehead to forehead. Armin was somewhat hidden behind his hair, but it was impossible to hide his giant blue eyes from looking directly into yours.

"You're still mine, aren't you?" Armin wanted to know. He was teasing, taunting, this much was clear. His hips didn't stutter or falter while he questioned you. Still, there was an underlying bitterness to his question that you picked up on. You were too fucked out to focus on a sentence other than agreeing with Armin.

"Yes, yes, all yours." You sputtered.

With no mercy, Armin sat up on his knees, dragging you up with him with one hand still stuffed in your hair. Armin pressed you up against him, rocking his hips and gripping on your chest. His lips gingerly sucked on your earlobe as he whispered,

"That's what I thought."

( for your viewing pleasure )

reblogs and feedback are appreciated!

taglist: @xttxck @snake-titan @fireandblood-xxii @pinkfluffybunnyy

---

𖨆♡𖨆 hanma shuji x fem!reader

╰┈➤ thrown into an arrange marriage with toman’s second man, you slowly come to find that not even your lost memories will stop him from getting what he wants. and what he wants is not you.

cw. amnesia, HEAVY ANGST, adultery, physical abuse (not towards reader), intimidation, alcohol, psychological trauma, illnesses, mentions of pregnancy, explicit smut, tension, mentions of bodily harm, mentions of food, mentions of alcohol, MINORS/AGELESS/BLANK BLOGS DNI

╳  playlist                                      ╳ masterlist

#6: you love me but you're hollow (part 1)

Anticipation mingled with dread thrummed hard in his veins.

Wafts of nicotine surrounded him, shrouding half of his face in smoke and filtering around his car like a comforting friend.

Y/N will start her nagging, he thought, stubbing out the stick and maneuvering the steering wheel with one hand past a familiar bend. You never did like the smell of cigarettes and he found himself smoking less and less around you, wanting to not trigger your pout and endless chatterings on how bad these little “cancerous sticks”—as you deemed them—were harmful to his health.

Shuji snorted, a fond smile tugging the corners of his lips.

You could be so adorable that it made him already miss you. If he tilted his head to the side, he could still catch whiffs of your floral Chanel perfume, reminding him of the debauchery you both partook in before he had driven off. 

The journey to downtown Tokyo where flashy skyscrapers made way for modest apartments and run-down buildings took longer than he expected from traffic, and the moment Shuji stopped the car in front of a familiar four-story townhouse, he steeled himself for what he had to do.

There would be little doubt that Ichika would take horribly to the news, but he was ready to face it. Ready to own up to his mistakes. As much as he wished he could have a clean break from her, the reality was not as easy. 

The woman he once called his own was suspected of carrying his child—a combination of him and her deep in her body—that made him turn green around the edges with nausea. Unlike other married men entangled in extraneous affairs, he did not keep a burner phone and resorted to flagrantly flaunting his infidelity anytime he could, and the repercussions would come and bite him back in the ass for not keeping track of his mistress’ cycle. 

Mistress. Funny how a few short weeks can change a man’s mind. Just a month ago, he had vowed to never fall in love you; that his wife was too plain and unassuming to ever capture his attention.

Like the fates themselves were laughing at him, they drew out the most ironic Uno reverse card and made sure that he would eat his own words.

Do not seek me out unless I find you first. 

The memory of his fear when he discovered you missing from the gala’s table, and the subsequent panic he had at the idea that someone could’ve taken you. Shuji had been a fool to dismiss that it was merely his duty to Kisaki that tied him to you and not his latent anxiety that you could’ve gotten hurt.

You are not allowed to kiss me unless I initiate it first to save our face. 

Easily the top five memories to flood his mind would be of your sweet lips on his. How they molded exactly to his shape—the softness of them between his teeth. Your taste heavy on his tongue, like sunshine, honey and something intrinsically intoxicating that was purely you. Shuji was sure that if you took your kisses away from him, he would die like a man who was deprived of oxygen in the form of your breaths shared intimately with his. 

And three… don’t fall in love with me.

An idiot. A pure, unadultered idiot. Everything that he had harshly instructed to you the fateful night of your marriage had turned on its head. Instead of you breaking his rules, he was the first and only one to disobey them. You remained true to his wishes, and suddenly Shuji was afraid.

No… she loves me. His reasoning kicked in. She loves me and I love her. And after I do this, I can finally show her how much I love her. 

In an unhurried gait, the first thing he did was to walk up straight to her unassuming unit, knuckles rapping smartly on the door. The chipped wooden barrier pulled back, and the sight of his ex-mistress on the other end nearly made his resolve falter. Wet, red rimmed eyes and mused hair, misery lining every crevice of her once beautiful face. 

The first time he met her, Ichika reminded him of a famous Japanese actress. Her sweet, congenial smile, sparkling brown eyes and slim nose with her perfect complexion was hard to ignore, even through his fog of alcohol and smoke as he sat with the rest of his underlings to unwind after a hard mission. 

“Hey,” Shuji’s frown carved through her periphery, and a small ball of regret curled itself underneath his ribcage at how exhausted she appeared. 

Listless brown eyes, once sparkling with vitality, flickered slightly. “Hey. Come in.”

Ichika stepped aside, and Hanma entered her apartment for the first and last time, cognizant of the fact that he would never want to step foot back here again if he could help it. He opened his mouth, about to speak when she interjected in a voice hoarse from crying.

 “You’re cruel, you know that, Shuji?” Wrapping her arms around her frail form, she mustered enough vitriol for a glare which did little to shake him. “You’re mean. I hate you.”

At least she’s not hurting me or holding a knife to my neck. Shuji counted his blessings that his mistress was not one for violence, unlike his wife whom he suspected could have a vicious streak if she put her mind to it.

Bowing his head, Shuji recognized how hard this choice was—to let go of the life he previously thought he could live with the woman he once loved. Things have changed, and it was because of you that his eyes were opened wide to the knowledge that if he were to let this affair go on, he would lose out on the best thing he ever had in this life.

“There’s not much I can say besides I’m—”

“Sorry?” Ichika finished for him, a note of sarcasm in her brittle whisper. “You’ve ruined my life for the worst and all you can say is you’re sorry? You disgust me, Shuji.”

He bit down on the words he wanted to hurl towards her, letting her assuage her anger onto his deserving ass. Ichika had every right to rage at him, hit him if it made her happy, and for once in his life, Shuji would let someone else have the upperhand on him if it meant his future with you would be preserved. 

Before the 6’5 man could open his mouth and spare her a few decencies in the form of apologies, her slap richocheted across his face, bringing with it a stinging aftertaste that left him reeling. Golden eyes flashed, but he did not retaliate, passively accepting her rage. Another slap, and this time, the end of her expensive, Tiffany&Co ring he had bought for her months ago, caught into his cheek, leaving a small gash and a bite of pain. Hanma took one step back, jaw tightening, and he was about to speak up when she started sobbing.

“I’ll tell her about us!” 

His heart stopped. Starting back up took some time to gather his composure, and despite his promises that he would end this relationship right here and now, little could actually he followed through once he was faced with the duplicity of her actions.

“What?” his rich and deep voice, always with a note of softness for her was all steel. “What did you fucking say?” 

Ichika faced him with streaming eyes, and she chuckled caustically, the sound verging on mania. “I’ll tell her everything—our affair, the relationship we had before she fucking waltzed into the picture. I’ll tell Tomio. I’ll even tell Kisaki if you don’t fucking own up for your mistake and help me, Shuji.”

Her threats were paper thin at best, but Shuji felt a trickle of unease stir his soul. “Do you know who I am?” Standing to his full height, he sauntered over to her, a terrifying sneer plastered onto his face, and for a split second, a flash of fear eclipsed her expression. That’s right—she had to know her place. “I’m the second most dangerous man in Toman. With one single word, I can end your life right where you stand and bury your body where no else can find you. Do not—”

She screamed in pain when he grasped the base of her throat, almost completely cutting off her air supply, her back hitting the wall. Shuji was merciless when he pressed down on her windpipe, about to crush it when she wheezed out, “I-I’m pregnant.”

Two words, but it was enough to zap him off his murderous intent. He let her go and she slumped onto the floor, gasping loudly, choking on stuttered inhales as she massaged her abused throat. Looking up at him with watery eyes she sniffled, pointing towards the kitchen shelf with a trembling finger. “P-pregnancy test. There. See. For y’self.”

Ichika’s voice was hoarse with unshed tears and panic, and her wide eyes never left his broad back when he unglued his limbs; walking towards the direction she indicated and pulling open the drawer. The pregnancy test was hastily stuffed in between wad of papers, but he could plainly make out those lines that seemed to cut into him like glass. Those two deep lines that hurt more than serrated edges of a knife.

Shuji thought his world would collapse around him, and he had to hold onto the edge of the wooden cabinet to catch his breath. Her quiet sobs pierced through the roaring in his ears, and he lifted his head, the unfair decision he had to make weighing heavily on his shoulders. As much as he wanted to disregard Ichika as merely a mistress, the truth was not as simple. 

She had been with him from the very start—tended to his wounds, shared her laughter and cheer with him, helped him become someone better and she had a right to be angry; it was her perception that you would be reaping the rewards of him being a better man that she worked so hard to instill. Harumi Ichika was once the woman of his dreams, and he could not change that. Just as much as he could not change the softening of his ice-cold heart towards her pitiful cries. 

Her breath caught when she felt his arms around her, and then, the sturdy press of his chest under her cheek. Barely giving any time to gather her wits, Shuji spoke. “I’m sorry. I was too harsh—too cruel. I will take care of you and the baby if you choose to have it. But, I still can’t divorce my wife… you know what’s at stake.”

Ichika could barely believe her plan worked. “Yes,” she muttered, squeezing her eyes shut and thanking every listening deity that Shuji would still be hers. “I know, and I’m sorry. I never meant… I didn’t mean to make you panic.” 

Shuji sighed, and rubbed his large palm up and down her back, soothing her. “I don’t want you to get an abortion. It’s wrong.” Mind foggy with grief and remorse, he fished inside the pocket of his pants, and removed the familiar velvet box. “Here.” 

Her breath hitched when he revealed a simple, pearlescent ring from the inky depths. Taking it out from its swathes of silk, he slipped the too tight circle onto her right ring finger, where it barely fit past her knuckle. A ring for the love of his life adorning the finger of another to appease the horrors he inflicted onto her.

“It says ‘to the love of my life’,” she murmured, turning her hand this way and that to let the ring catch onto snatches of light. “It’s a little too small, but it’s perfect.” 

Her smile brought equal parts relief and grief to him. But, he covered it up with his signature lackaidasal grin, chain earring brushing his cheek when he leaned forward to give her a perfunctory peck on her cheek. “I’m sorry I let my anger get the best of me.”

Ichika shook her head, and though his fingers had dug deep into her skin, there were barely any marks around her neck. His perversion forever hidden from the light. “You’re a fucking menance, Shuji,” her smile fractured slightly in the corners, “But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

He retraced the column of her throat, the warmth of his touch setting off curlicues of yearning straight into her soul. “Shuji, do you love me?” 

Why don’t you ever tell me you love me? 

Unprompted, that morose question in the sweet cadence of your voice flashed through his mind. Rendering him mute with misery. I’m so sorry, Y/N… I’m so weak. 

“Don’t tell her about us,” was his reply to her uncomfortably vulnerable question. “And do not let word of your pregnancy reach others, okay?” Those golden hued orbs took on a sheen of firmness that left her with barely any doubt that Shuji’s hands around her throat was just a precursor to the true punishment should she step out of line. “You know what’s at stake if it does.” 

She swallowed hard. It’s not fair. While Ichika kept him like an oath, he kept her as a secret, never to be seen in broad daylight. Didn’t she always tell herself that the life of a mistress was a sad one? Her luck was that she would never love the man who owned her heart, body and soul no matter how much it pained her that you were in the spot she so rightfully deserved. 

“I’ll be in the city settling business, but I’ll call you when I’m free,” he murmured, giving her a weary smile. 

Idiot. You fucking idiot. 

What kind of man was he that he could not make a decision and choose the woman he loved? Ichika was nothing but a burden to him, and yet, the knowledge that she was carrying his child—willingly wanting to hold onto a piece of him no matter how it hurt her—turned his resolve upside down. I’m a fool.

But, when she nuzzled her face into his neck and wished him a safe drive back, he could do nothing but hope that wherever the pieces fell, it would not crush him. Or, you. 

I’m sorry, Y/N. The ring on her finger shone brightly, a telltale sign of his reluctant commitment to her; one that did not even fit right or sound like the truth when he said, “Take care of yourself.” 

She closed the door on him, departing one last smile, a gracious farewell that he did not deserve. Nor want. A bitter sense of self-loathing washed over him, borne from years of standing by the sidelines as his mother conceived and lost multiple babies; his father’s fists striking her abdomen, the children she cried over. His brothers and sisters who never got a chance to live.

If Ichika wanted to keep the baby and her promise to not expose him, who was he to refuse? 

Especially when the child belonged solely to him—and there was no mistaking that it did. One look into her lacrymose and earnest eyes would tell him enough of the truth. 

Fuck. He was a father. No matter how much he tried to tell himself that it was a smart choice—the humane one—Shuji could not shake off the feeling that what he did would be the last straw that would tilt the scale firmly towards the end of tragedy for his romance story. Firmly lodging itself someplace between foolish hope that you would never find out the truth and the excruciating idea that if you ever did, there was nothing he could do to assuage your righteous anger towards him.

The both of you had entered this world of marriage with a mutual understanding that you would never have his heart because he kept it hidden in the arms of another woman.

And now, there was so much more at stake than where his heart laid.

You. His wife.

Shuji could not afford to fuck up. He would need a solid plan to finally take Ichika out of his life for good. 

Before you would walk out of his life—for good.

You stared at the dimly-lit screen, gnawing on your lower lip. 

The sky was a steel grey, looming with swollen rain clouds. Of all the memories that remained in your fragile mind, the hatred of rain remained your biggest one. You shrank back under the awning of the hospital’s shade, fiddling with your phone. 

Should I call him? 

The scathing inner voice scoffed. And say what? You miss him? You know he’s on a mission so why even bother. 

Standing outside of the hospital, your mind was a million miles away. Shuji would at least text you back to let you know when you could expect him to return but your phone was as silent as a grave. The thoughts would not give you a respite.

What if he’s hurt? Is he bleeding? Oh god—you gripped your phone tighter, stomach churning with anxiety. What if he’s dead?

You don’t get to ruminate on it long before a familiar luxury sedan draws up right in front of you. Echoing a scene from what felt like a lifetime ago, Chifuyu’s grin carved its way into your periphery and you barely had time to greet him when he got out of the car, dapper in a pressed suit and a single gold earring adorning his left lobe.

“Y/N. Hey.”

“Chifuyu,” you smiled, darting your gaze to the darkened interior of his car. “What brings you here?”

“Oh, yeah. Your father can’t come to see you today because some gang issues came up so he asked me to look out for you now that Hanma’s on a mission.” His sincerity left no room for your doubts, low voice a calming timber. Charmingly cocking his head to the side, Chifuyu gestured towards the car. “Do you want to go ahead with the doctor’s appointment or do you want to go out for some ice cream?”

You debated the options you had at your feet. On one hand, your father would be waiting for a progress update even if he couldn’t make it to this appointment—to see if your words rang true and he could rest his worries on the shoulders of a future heir. While on the other hand, dropping your duties for a day of fun with Chifuyu held a mighty appeal, and you waged war internally on these decisions.

Eventually, duty outweighed leisure and you nodded towards the hospital doors. “Will you please accompany me for my checkup?”

Chifuyu did not refuse and gestured for you to lead the way.

Inside the fluorescent office, the smell of bleach and antiseptic stung, and you had to breathe slowly to not trigger the sudden, irrational wave of nausea. Second to rain, you hated hospitals with a passion, their sterile and rigid walls too constricting and overbearing for someone of your timidity. 

The doctor stepped in after a few minutes, her kindly smile unwavering as she inquired about your health. You did your best to tell her the truth; how you were more tired lately and attributed it to your amnesia, the ache in your joints and the unpredictability of your sleep schedule. She jotted it down, and because Chifuyu was most likely aware of your situation after the fiasco at the L/N mansion, you made sure to meekly tell her you suspected you were pregnant.

It didn’t fully sink in to you how dangerous it was to play with Tomio’s trust and lead him on until the cool gel was smeared onto your belly. The silence highlighted your heavy breathing, and Chifuyu’s eyes on you were not helping your nerves in the least. You gulped down on your fear, mind racing a mile a minute.

What would you tell your father when the results came back and you did not have his heir?

Your death was signed on the dotted line with red ink, if that were the case. L/N Tomio would never forgive you and the punishment he held over your head would be multiplied by tenfold. You clutched the blanket tightly, eyes never leaving the grainy screen.

Intermittently, you would flicker your gaze towards the preoccupied doctor, trying to catalogue any change of emotion on her stony countenance. 

She flicked a switch and the room went silent. 

Anytime now, your sentence would be announced and you would have to face an even larger retribution. Chifuyu’s face was like the older doctor’s—solemn and unmoving. Waiting for the truth. 

Would he rat you out to Tomio? 

Would this man you thought of as a friend leak out your deepest secret to someone who had the power to hurt you? 

Your heart clenched and you almost choked on your spit. What would happen to Shuji? Your mind fell into a trap of fear and panic, inner turmoil loudly clanging for attention as you remained mute with apprehension. It was certain he would lose more than just four fingers—your husband may lose his whole hand and Kisaki’s trust. Toman’s support for him would be shaky at best, and he would fall from grace all because of your grave mistake in blurting out stupid, stupid lies—

A swooping sound filled your ringing ears. Loud and alien-like, it reminded you of holding your head for too long underwater till only your heartbeat was pounding in the forefront of your senses. You had no idea what that foreign noise was. 

“Oh. Hmm. Just as I thought. Well, Mrs. Hanma, it turns out there’s a huge reason for your sickness and fatigue… though I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you twice.”

The heavy pressure in the room lessened. Your chest, however, remained tight.

The curl of your tongue felt like it was caught on the roof of your mouth. You could barely speak; your thoughts colliding into a disbelieving stupor. This cannot be true. 

The world spun completely off its axis. You catalogued the doctor’s warm smile; the sound of Chifuyu’s short chuckle shattered in your mind like an interrupted melody. 

A shaky breath stumbled past your frozen lips, your mind fully blanking and not registering her next words. 

“Congratulations, Mrs. Hanma,” the doctor gestured to the screen and gave you a warm smile that did not touch your soul. 

“You’re four weeks pregnant.”

Ichika stared at the pile of paperwork, her mind a million miles away.

Ever since Shuji had left her apartment to be with you, her entire welfare was a mess; bags weighed heavily underneath her eyes, her lips were constantly drawn into a frown and there was something lackluster about her whole countenance. 

People were noticing—as they always did—and imparted some kindly concern for her wellbeing.

Are you sleeping enough, Ichika-chan? 

You should go and see a doctor.

Please drink more water. 

A hand slammed onto the desk, and she jolted, scrambling up from her seat to hastily bow when she noticed who it was. Kisaki’s beady eyes were narrowed, as if he were trying to examine her entire form with x-ray goggles. 

“Sir?” 

“I need you to schedule me this meeting with some Blood Phoenixes investors,” he paused, raking his eyes up and down her form. “You look terrible. Please fix yourself up; you’re the front receptionist for fuck’s sake.”

She bowed low, waiting for him to depart. He left her alone to her simmering thoughts, and she bit on her lower lip. 

As if her day could not get any worse, you arrived. 

Instantly, everyone shot up from their work desks, bowing low much to your quiet chagrin and you greeted them with polite nods and a soft good morning. 

Fucking bitch. Ickika put on a smile, bowing low the moment you approached the front desk. Your entire outfit put together would’ve cost her a week’s worth of rent, and she eyed the YSL coat hanging off your shoulders and how your milky pink gel manicured nails were nervously twisting your golden watch. 

“I’m sorry if this is so sudden, but is Shuji here? I need to speak to him.”

Before Ichika could open her mouth, Kisaki’s voice rebounded across the floor. “Y/N! Good to see you here.” The yakuza leader sauntered over to you, hands in his pockets and a faint smile on his odious face. “I’ll take over from here,” he announced to the other receptionists and Ichika bowed low once more for the both of you. 

You were ushered away by Toman’s top brass in a matter of seconds, away from the brunette’s fallen expression. 

“You look well,” Kisaki praised you loudly. “And you’re glowing, too. Shuji must be treating you right, huh?” 

Glowing. Ichika’s stomach turned. It reminded her of the predicament she put herself in. Speak of the devil. Her phone vibrated and she read his message in one quick glance. 

My Shuji 🖤: We need to get you to the doctor. I have to see how far along you are.

The pretty secretary clicked her phone shut, running a hand down her face. Exhaustion was spelled out on every crevice of her countenance, and she almost did not hear someone speaking to her.

“Ichika-chan, do you have the—are you alright?” 

She wanted to open her eyes and retort, but a chilling voice spoke again. Your presence back to haunt her. 

“Could you please speak to Shuji-san and free up his time later this afternoon?” Despite her reservations, Ichika got up and bowed uneasily to you.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but Shuj—Hanma-san—” she corrected herself quickly, “—Is on a mission right now.”

Her little blip drew your complete silence. Mari, the new receptionist, had also overheard her slip of tongue and stared wide-eyed at the two women. Tension swirled around both your forms, thick enough that one could slice it through with a butter knife. The look on your face was easy enough to decipher. Since when is this woman so casually acquainted with my husband to use his real name?

Ichika rushed to cover her tracks. “My apologies for appearing so casual, ma’am,” she bowed deeply again and straightened. “I have worked with Hanma-san for a few years now, but that is no excuse for me to refer to him in such an easy way. Please, forgive me for any misunderstandings.”

You took a second to let her explanation sink in. Softening, you nodded. “It is not an issue.”

Stupid bitch. Ichika kept her smile plastered on though her thoughts were swimming with vitriol. 

“Regardless, do let Hanma-san know that I requested him urgently, thank you.” You turned on your back, red-bottomed heels clacking on the floor. Rushes of clothes and loud scraping sounds from chairs pushing back hastily greeted your departing figure, every Tamakaro employee bowing in your direction until the elevator doors closed on you.

“Y/N-san is so nice,” Mari enthused, the moment Ichika sat back down. Leaning forward as if to conspire with her, the air-headed receptionist bubbled, “I heard how smitten Hanma-san is with her. They just recently got back from Kanagawa and she’s glowing. Rumors are going around that she’s pregnant.”

Ichika’s heart dropped right to her ass. 

Pregnant? Her entire expression was leached of color and Mari noticed. “I-Ichika-chan. Are you alright—”

“Cover for me,” she briskly stood up, gripping her purse and slinging it over her shoulder. “I need to check on something, okay?” 

“Ichika—”

The brunette did not heed her cries. Spinning on her heel, she shot a quick text to Shuji, calling for the elevator.

Can we do it another day? I’m not feeling so good.

Stepping into the enclosed space, she waited until the doors closed before sagging against the cool wall. 

There was no denying what her two eyes saw. The lustrous color of your hair, the health on your cheeks and the shine of your smile spoke volumes to how well her boyfriend was treating you. 

Ichika had suspected for a while that a shift had taken place in your marriage, though she was hesitant to bring this up with Shuji. What could she say? Whatever Shuji did with you behind closed doors was none of her business—no matter how much her heart was bleeding for it to be concerning her.

Some nights, she fell asleep thinking about how different life would be if she was truly carrying his child. Ichika had seen it in how Shuji’s eyes softened at the idea of having a family. The silent yearning that stretched from the tips of his long fingers that rubbed the soft of her belly hours after he had nearly strangled her, in quiet awe of the perceived life he cultivated in another woman’s body. He would have made a great father to her babies.

The pretty secretary swallowed down on her tears, cursing your name again. Why couldn’t she be someone of your power and status? Why did fate have to dole out an unfair hand just for the pleasure of watching her struggle every single day for recognition—for a place to lay her head and find a nook of belonging? You must know how much you ruined her life. You must know that.

And once again, fate taunted her with the life she could not have when she ran into Shuji himself in the main lobby, just minutes after you had left.  

Ichika still had a part to play in front of society and Kisaki’s people, despite her current status as Shuji’s mistress. Though the entire office floor probably knew of their affairs, as judging from their open mouth gapes at Toman’s second striding purposefully towards her, they dared not raise a single complaint or suggestion. 

The hand tattooed with ‘Sin’ gripped her free hand, and he bent forward, expression unreadable. “Follow me. Now.” 

This was out of line for Shuji’s character. The man who insisted they never interact in broad daylight was cocking his eyebrow in her direction, obstinately waiting for her to respond to his instruction. Looking for the world, completely familiar with her when they were not supposed to have any other relationship beyond the stipulated boss-employee one. 

She cast a look towards a bellboy hovering at the side, who was steadfastly staring at the grainy patterns of a painting hanging on the opposite wall, trying to seem inconspicuous. Cowards. Was there no decent person she could rely upon within this miserable organization? 

“Sir—” she pried her hand back from his grasp, smoothing the front of her skirt with a palpable nervous unease. “May I ask where we’re going?” 

In answer, Shuji shot his brilliant golden gaze onto the poor minimum wage worker, who visibly shrunk away from the tenacity of his unbridled anger. “Tell whoever the fuck runs the day-to-day operations that I have business with Miss Harumi.”

The greasy-haired man was all too eager to remove the force of his almost mythical superior’s stare upon him and nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, sir.”

I am dead. Ichika had never hated the universe with such vitriol like she did in this instance.

This grotesque, emotionally exhausting game of Russian Roulette that she willingly participated in had brought the smoking gun closer and closer toward her direction after every agonizing round. Your accident. The gala. Shuji’s fallout with your father. Kanagawa. 

The smell of blood and rusty tang in the air was too hard to ignore with the gun getting closer towards her vulnerable forehead. 

Many fearsome men perceived Hanma Shuji to be an emotionless menace; hell bent on destroying the world from top to bottom if it meant he could savour the thrill of it as it fell into ashes around him. 

But, the real Hanma—the one that Ichika was intimately acquainted with—was more nuanced than they gave him credit for. Hanma Shuji would kill, maim and torment if it served the right person.

Where does his real allegiance lie? The woman who had warmed his bed for months even during his marriage—the one he told he would not live without in a drunken stupor after his marriage to you was announced—was not able to read his mind. 

Twisted as it was, Ichika wanted to goad Shuji. Push him to answer the real questions that seized her mind unfairly every single night.

Do you love me? 

Do you love her? 

Who do you love? 

Instead, she kept her peace and stood up. Following Shuji towards the elevator, not even a single gust of breath could be heard in the vicinity. Every eye was on them—wide gazes, parted mouths. It was like they were witnessing a god and mortal interact for the first time. And wouldn’t it be similar, Ichika thought humorlessly. Hanma was far more important compared to her, and for him to taint his presence with the likes of her outside of the bedroom—outside of her apartment—spoke intense volumes towards his headspace.

Like a lamb cajoled straight to the slaughterhouse, she obediently followed him down the well-worn pathway. Only when he led her to the hotel’s premium parking did she get antsy.

“Shu, where are we going?” 

His answer was pulling open the passenger door for her. Despite every nerve screaming in the young woman’s mind to not blindly follow him down a trail she was not familiar with, there was nothing she could do to defy him. Shuji would just take what he wanted—never caring for her concerns or hesitations.

Hanma slammed the door of his Spyder shut when he slid into the driver's seat, jaw taut and knuckles white on the steering wheel. “I need you to be truthful with me.”

The anger dancing in his tone was what made her stop short, every excuse and justification she wanted to spill out coming to a screeching halt. 

Shuji flickered his golden eyes to her, not giving her a moment to prepare herself for the blow his next question left on her heart. 

“Are you pregnant with another man’s child?” 

Ichika felt like someone reached right into the cavern of her bleeding heart and squeezed it in a death grip. “N-no,” she murmured, unable to keep steady eye contact with her. “It’s yours.” 

Never mind that her womb was empty of his seed. Never mind that she was spewing out lie after lie. What mattered was that she would still have him by the end of the day.

Shuji closed his eyes, momentarily leaving her stunned and uneasy from his countenance. 

“Baby. You’re scaring me. What’s going on?” 

Again, silence greeted her. The sportscar lurched out from its bay and she scrambled to put on her seatbelt before the unthinkable could happen. Her lover was not in the right state of mind, as evident when he pushed the speedometer to a 120mph on a relatively busy highway. Ichika conspicuously removed her phone, but Hanma’s hand on her thigh stilled her.

“Forget it,” his jaw ticked. “Don’t even think of calling someone right now. We’re heading to the hospital.”

What defines true fear? 

Was it staring into the mouth of the beast? Or having the nozzle of a gun that was sure to go off trailing right in front of your face? 

Many people would say they were intrinsically scared of heights or spiders which remained the natural order of the world—for humans to be terrified of the things that they could not control, as irrational as it was. 

Ichika thought she might’ve developed a fear for flashing lights over gold surfaces. It reminded her too much of the anger in Shuji’s eyes when he finally lifted his gaze from her and onto the road ahead.

“Shu—”

“Don’t speak until I get the doctor’s confirmation.” The shocking aureate gleam stunned her into a disquiet. “I want to know if you’re telling me the truth.” 

And so, she didn’t. Glueing her mouth shut from the despairing words she wanted to convey, Ichika remained as deadened as a statue beside him; going through the motions of entering antiseptic smelling halls, past friendly nurses and through hospital screens.

She couldn’t run. Nor, did she sense Shuji would let her.

He played the part of her concerned lover well. Intermittently, he would reach for her hand, squeezing it in a way that appeared heartfelt enough for the elderly doctor to treat them but only she could tell how much her knuckles were starting to hurt from his bruising grip. She was one of the best in the district, as far as Shuji could tell. Every expectant wife of an important man went to her. Soon, Y/N will, too, was what Shuji was probably thinking. 

God, even in a time like this, she could not shake off her hatred for you. 

Though the doctor’s smile faltered when she saw his name listed next to Ichika’s in the report, she resumed her professional countenance as if nothing was amiss.

“So, Mrs…”

“—Hanma.” Ichika interrupted and took a deep breath. “I’m Mrs. Hanma.”

She did not dare look at Shuji’s face less she chicken out and admit to this clueless third party her entire ploy for wrecking his marriage. The corner of the doctor’s lips twitched—and was it her bad hearing or did the older woman mutter the word ploygamy underneath her breath? 

Strange. 

Ichika remained rooted to the plush medical chair, unable to stop the trained OBGYN from spreading the cool gel across her belly. Or, to control whether Shuji was staring intently at the monitor screen, trying to pick up on the thread of lies she weaved around her unfortunate form. 

Suddenly, the fear of flashing gold surfaces played behind her closed lids. 

Time froze. The progressive echoing silence in the room could’ve shattered her ears.

“I… I’m sorry, Mrs. Hanma. But, the scans are coming back empty.” 

Ichika swore she heard Shuji’s patience and civility snap.

The older woman trailed her uncertain expression towards her livid “husband” who did not hide his fury at her insolence, gnashing his jaw and shaking his head. Pure rage seeped onto his delicate features, a promise of retribution the moment they were free from the presence of passerbys. 

Her fingers had lost their feeling, breath lodged in her throat. The lack of air struck her with dizzying speed.  

The old hag is gloating at me, poisonous fumes laced her thoughts. She is thrilled that my boyfriend wants to kill me. 

Whatever else could such a vile woman be thinking when instead of offering condolences, her fushia-tinted lips tightened into a line and she uttered: 

“I’m sorry to get yours and your husband’s hopes up…” At least the bitch had some sincerity to hesitate, though her next words left little to be relieved over. 

“But you’re not pregnant, Mrs. Hanma.”

“Watch out, mama,” Chifuyu scolded, grabbing onto your hand to steady you from side-stepping off the curb.

Your giggles rebounded back in bright peals, a silly smile on your face, and his strict facade fractured. “Hey, guzzler. Quit acting like you’re dancing on the moon.”

“I could be,” you retorted back, giving him a smile that unwittingly brought heat suffusing across his face. He coughed and darted his eyes away from your shimmering figure, preferring to stare at his dress shoes. 

Gruffly, he crossed his arms. “I just don’t want to explain to Shuji if you break something.”

“I won’t!” you enthused, crossing your heart like a schoolgirl making a promise for the first time, your smile deepening. “I swear.” 

The corners of his lips twitched and he ran a hand through his dark hair, stopping short of his undercut. Faraway, somewhere in your mind, you realized you were acting like a child in front of  a member of Toman and instantly sobered, not wanting him to judge you wrongly. But, Chifuyu did not utter a disparaging remark, understanding the apex of your happiness.

“Are you telling him?” 

You nodded emphatically. The shine of your features, the curve of your eyebrows rising put the bright sun and cloudless blue sky to shame. Glowing in your effervescent light, Chifuyu was the poor, stunned soul who bore witness to your bubbling nod. “Of course. My husband will be so happy.” 

A flicker of darkness rolled over those crystal eyes, though it disappeared when you availed to look closer. “Oh, yeah. Hanma-san has always wanted a child.” 

The bitter afternote in his tone went by unnoticed and you chuckled, reaching froward boldly and squeezing his shoulder. In your most serious tone, you departed your next words, the hint of warning underneath them hard to miss. “Matsuno Chifuyu. Do not tell him first, alright? This good news needs to come from me.” 

Wide-eyed, Chifuyu took a half-step back. “S-sure. Of course. I would never dream of it.”

Unaffected by the tremor of his disturbance, you dropped your hand, resuming your carefree disposition once again. The Toman founder drove you home after stopping by for ice-cream, the both of you speaking about mundane niceties while such simmering happiness you harbored in the OGBYN’s room buoyed you back into the penthouse as if you were floating on air. You discarded your heels in favour for comfortable house shoes, musing that in a few months time, you would not be able to carry yourself on those spine-thin shoes anymore.

Stomach rumbling, you reached for a chipped pot and Shuji’s secret stash of Mac & Cheese, drooling when the smell from the neon yellow artificial goop reached your nose. You ate as you danced around the penthouse, filling your tummy and soul with more happiness as you patiently waited for Shuji to come home. 

He should be here any second. 

His name rang in your mind, and the threads that bound you to his soul tugged with fierce yearning. As if summoned by you, your phone rang, and your husband’s name was a welcome respite. 

“Hello?” you answered after the first ring.

“Baby.” The grey from cumulonimbus clouds which stood a little far off to your persistent excitement parted, revealing the severity of how deeply you had missed Shuji. “You good?” 

“Shu!” you set the bowl of coagulated pasta and cheese down, gnawing on your bottom lip like a schoolgirl giddily speaking to her crush. “I miss you. When are you coming home?”

“Soon, doll, soon,” he chuckled. “I just have some unfinished business to wrap up then I’m going to bend you over the sofa and make you scream my name til’ you’re hoarse.”

Oh. You shifted from one foot to another, suddenly hot under the collar from your husband’s blatant filthy intentions. “Then, come home soon,” you flashed your eyes to the clock above the kitchen counter and in a voice barely above a whisper, you murmured, “I could really use a good scream.” 

Hanma paused, his silence stretched across the line. You pressed the phone harder to your ear, fighting off a grin. “Fuck. G’na have to stuff your pretty pussy soon, baby. Wait for me on the bed. Don’t even think of putting on a single stitch of clothing. I’m on my way home now.”

Your heart lurched, and you breathed out a yes, daddy knowing how easy it was to rile him up when that term left your loose lips. So intimately acquainted were you with Shuji’s reaction that you could predict the sharp gasp that reverberated across the call.

“You’re in so much trouble, princess.”

In a whisper of a teasing tone, you murmured, “I’m counting on it, my love.” 

His warm chuckle resounded that made you wish he were right here so you could plant endless kisses onto his sweet face. 

“I love you.” 

You softened at the inflection of tenderness in his voice. “I love you, too.” 

Ending the call, you perked up, and tentatively wrapped a hand around your belly, smiling wide. “I can’t wait for you to say ‘hello’ to your daddy, my little bean.”

The apples of your cheeks were starting to hurt, but you didn’t mind. Pain that was born from felicitous joy was preferable than trauma. You had never felt this free and happy before, and you danced around the penthouse, cleaning yourself up from the day and doing as Shuji said, waiting for him on the large, California King bed with just your perfume on, nervously counting down the minutes til he would be home.

At seven sharp, you heard the door downstairs opening. Heart in your throat, you arranged yourself atop the blankets, adjusting your diamond necklace and hair so it fell in more natural lines down your body which complimented your brazen, seductive position. Shuji’s heavy footsteps echoed up the stairs, every staccato beat bumping up your heart rate. It ceased right in front of your bedroom door. 

Biting on your lower lip to stop a smile from spreading, your efforts were futile when you heard his shaky breath. The door fell open, and Shuji’s familiar, dear face spread into a soft smile.

“Doll.” 

Like two jagged pieces reuniting once more, he fell into your arms, and you welcomed him into your embrace, inhaling his kisses with such desperation it would’ve been shameful if it was anybody else but your beloved husband who was here to witness it.

Shuji himself was barely composed. He nipped your lower lip, running his large hands up and down your bare back, his movements more tender than salacious as you wanted to believe. There was a gentleness that could not be denied when he breathed you in. The setting sun threw his amber eyes into a brilliant disarray, those sharp lines and bold smile touched with softness around the edges, filled with nothing but devotion when he spread your legs wider and settled in between them.

You did not get to mutter a single word, not when Shuji was stealing your every breath and half-formed sentence, determined to have his fill of you. The sound of metal clinking and falling to the floor, the rush of his clothes melting off his lean and toned body until summer warm skin was pressed to yours; his defined lines complimenting your soft curves. 

“I missed you,” he murmured against your lips. The sky outside could break into pieces and seas could take Tokyo under its rifts, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. Not when his lips would not leave yours, his palms cradling your face like you were something delicate—something to be cherished.

You forced your lips to move, needing to convey the same level of desperation to show your equal devotion. “I missed you, too. I missed you so much, Shuji.”

The world tilted for a split second before you were upright once more, straddling his thighs. Strands of fluffy black-blonde hair fell in his face like dreamy waves, and you were entranced by the striking angularity and tenderness that co-mingled in such harmony on a face you loved with every fiber of your being. Your husband, your sweetheart. Your Shuji.

Would your baby have his eyes? Would they have his mischievous smirk—the same one on his face when you obediently lifted your hips and sank on his cock? They would have his smile, you were sure. You brought his hand up to rest on your belly, ‘sin’ starkly standing out on the soft planes of your curves, right where his baby was growing deep in you. 

 “Can feel you here,” your strained whisper had a double meaning. “You’re so deep in me.”

Shuji exhaled a laugh. “Yeah? I can go deeper—” a sharp thrust of his hips that caught your golden spot, making you gasp and toss your head back. Using your distractedness as a leverage, your husband started snapping his hips, taking pure glee in how your mouth fell open in an ‘O’ and there were already tears glossing in your eyes. You could do nothing but hold on as your husband set a brutal pace that had you clasping onto his shoulders for dear life.

He easily manoeuvred you into the seat of his lap, bouncing you up and down his thick cock and coaxing more of those sweet moans to spill from your slack mouth. Those large palms steadied your back from tilting behind, and your tangled fingers in his hair drew his amusement, especially when you tugged at the roots, face screwing up in pleasure.

“I’m g’na go bald because of you, baby,” he muttered, playfully biting your chin. “Tugging on my hair with that grip of yours.” 

Despite the deepened twining of your bodies, you exhaled a giggle, and Shuji’s gaze faltered. How could a heart like yours ever love one so corroded and evil like his? 

As if you sucked in the rays of the setting sun, your skin and hair shone, and Shuji thought there was little that could detract him from seeing you as nothing short of a goddess. 

His lips tangled with yours, the same moment your hips buckled and you released a short squeak—a telltale sign you were on the edge. I need to feel her cum. Shuji slotted a hand between your bodies, letting you grind your aching clit on his fingers as your movements stuttered and faltered.

“S-Shu—oh!” 

You bit down on his shoulder, riding out your orgasm, muffled moans of his name reaching his heated ears. God, he had been so blind. How did it take an impending tragedy to open his eyes to how much he needed you?

If he imagined a life without you—your sweet smile, your crinkled eyes, the innocent and open way you loved without conditions—Shuji thought he could cry. 

“I love you.” How paltry. Those three words could barely encompass his whole feelings, but it was worth a shot. “I love you. You know that right, Y/N?” 

You nodded in your fucked-out haze, pinning your swimming eyes on him. He picked up your hand, pressing a kiss to your wedding ring, the same one that was a twin design on his own finger. A silver band, simple and sturdy in both its strength of joining the two of you together for years to come. 

A life to be truly free with you.

Shuji kissed your hard as he came, his hips stuttering and drawing out another smaller release from you; both your bodies falling onto the bed while you perched two hands on his chest, riding out your second orgasm to fulfilment before your strength disappeared. You fell into his waiting embrace. Short, labored breaths were loud in the room; strong arms vining around your fragile frame, holding you close to his heart.

It was the perfect time. 

“Shu?” your soft voice knocked him back to reality and he hummed, kissing your sweaty forehead.

“Yeah, doll?” 

You nuzzled the warm, golden skin just right above the tattoo dedicated to his mother, sighing in contentment. “Y’know when you told me to call you daddy? Mhm… s’turns out you’re right. You’re gonna be a real daddy soon.” 

Shuji froze for a split second, and he lifted your sleepy face up, searching your expression for a shred of a lie. “Doll? Are you serious?” 

There was not a single line of duplicity in your sweet, glowing countenance. The truth screamed loudly from every loving pore of your body. “Yes.” Taking his hand once more and pressing it to your belly, you sighed in contentment. “The OBGYN at St. Luke’s confirmed it. We’re gonna be parents.”

A choked sound that was a cross between a laugh and a sob. Shuji wrapped his arms around you, and drew you impossibly close to heart, your entire body flush with his. “I love you,” he whispered, kissing your hair and your forehead. “I love you. I am so happy.”

You dared not shatter the peace, wide-eyed at his exuberant reaction. “Y-you are?” 

“I am,” he hummed, massaging your hip to show you how earnest he was. “I am so happy. I want to do this with you, doll.” 

A weight you had not noticed on your shoulders lifted. You could breathe easier. “I thought you would be angry.”

“Angry? Never. I would never be angry at you, doll.”

“Oh,” you deflated and shot him a brilliant smile. “I must admit, I didn’t know I was pregnant. It’s not like I was having the normal symptoms.” 

He eased out from your embrace shortly to scoot down and kiss your belly. “Hey, you little nuisance. How come you’re so quiet, hmm? Your mommy barely felt anything.”

You laughed at his mock teasing tone, threading your fingers through his fluffy hair. He’s already playing the part of a goofy daddy. “I did feel a little nauseous during Kanagawa, but I thought it was because of the sea air.” 

Shuji hummed, kissing your soft curves once more, making you giggle. “Any cravings, my love?” 

Thinking hard, you purse your lips. “I guess… Mac ‘n’ Cheese.”

If a laugh could embody such warmth, it would be Shuji’s short burst of a giggle. “Shit, I should’ve known. I’ll take you to Italy one day for a family trip so you can have the best Western food there, baby. It’ll just be us and our lil’ troublemaker.” His voice caught and you were quick enough to catch him wiping a tear away. “Fuck. I can’t believe that we’re doing this. I can’t believe we’re parents now.” 

Something about the split faltering of his emotions made you hold his face, nudging him up so you could look him in his red-rimmed eyes. The pads of your thumb smoothed his cheekbones, and you were staring at him with such tenderness and love, that Shuji swore he was a hair’s breadth away from telling you the entire truth. 

But, his tongue caught and his wide eyes studied how you traced the curve of his lip, your own eyes hazy and lovestruck. “You’re the only man I trust, you know that, Shuji?” Your words, innocent and soft spoken, cut him like a knife. “I’m so blessed to have you as my husband.” 

You met his gaze, flooring him with how open and honest your expression was. 

“From now on, it’ll just be me, you and our little bean.”

Shuji’s heart churned with guilt like the black waves of an uneasy sea about to encounter a huge thunderstorm. The curve of your brow, the lift of your smile, it made him question every single action he had committed, the horror he put you through and how you could forgive him so easily. 

Ichika… he had to end it with her. At first, he had his hands tied in making a choice, but now, it could not be any clearer.

Shuji wanted you. He wanted a family with you.

He had made his decision.

“Yes,” he murmured, wishing with all his heart that he could rewrite his past and give himself a chance to fall in love with you the right way. Without causing you pain, hurt or despair. 

He wanted nothing more than to start anew, past these treacherous mountains that constantly loomed in his mind’s eye to the sufferings he piled on you. I’m so fucking sorry, Y/N. Let me fix this… once and for all. 

“Yes,” Shuji’s voice almost broke off at the end. “It’s just going to be us and our little baby from now on.”

Ever since you had made the announcement to your husband and showed him the soft copy of your ultrasound scan, his whole demeanor shifted implicitly. 

He was clingier. More caring.

It was a stark change to how he had first treated you after your accident. 

Little by little, you noticed it in his gestures; the boxes of Mac ‘n’ Cheese placed on a lower shelf so you didn’t have to climb up the kitchen counter to get it, more vegetables in the chiller, and nausea pills popping up beside the porcelain bathtub, on your side table and even in your purse as the symptoms progressed. As if your little bean was waiting for the world to acknowledge him or her before making a huge splash, the signs of pregnancy started getting worse.

You couldn’t even lie in bed for more than five minutes without bolting to the toilet, heaving down last night’s dinner. Through it all, Shuji was there for you, holding your hair back, and whispering words of encouragement. 

“So beautiful,” he would murmur while holding your exhausted body close to his, never mind that you had puked your entire breakfast up again just an hour ago. “You’re so beautiful and strong, my darling.”

Where once you would not even see your husband for hours on end, he was home more often. If he had work to do, he would send one of his trusted men to watch over you while he handled Toman’s affairs for Kisaki, always with the promise that he would come home safe and sound.

One day, you reached for his hand before the door could close, a tremor in your lower lip. Another mood swing. Shuji was cognizant of your shifting emotions like a pendulum, and rather than making fun of you like you believed he would, your husband would calm you down with a soft touch, a reassuring word. “I’ll come home at seven today and make you some sukiyaki. The one without mirin. Okay?” 

He kissed the top of your head and you sniffled, tears rushing down your face. “I-I know. But, I-I can’t help and worry, Shu. It’s so dangerous out there.”

His arms tightened around you. Just a few days ago, you received news that one of your father’s warehouses was raided by the police and they brought in a few of the Blood Phoenixes underlings. Luckily, those poor men were not top brass, and they were imprisoned for two years with the reality that once they were released, they had to resume their duties to your father again. 

“I’ll make today quick, doll. Okay? Tonight, I wanna cuddle you to death.” If any outsider were to see the Hanma Shuji pucker his lips and make a kissy face at you until you laughed, they would consider if their morning coffee was spiked with a hallucinogen. But, Shuji did just that and you pushed his face away, giggling softly. 

“Okay. Okay. Come home soon, yeah?” 

He nodded, and got onto one knee, levelling his face with your belly. “Daddy has to go to work now, but you take care of mommy, okay? I love you both so, so, so much!” he giggled, leaving loud, theatrical kisses on your relatively flat belly that tickled. “Mwah, mwah, mwah.” Shuji rose to his feet and leaned down to peck your parted lips for one last time. “And for mommy—mwah. I love you.” 

Your cheeks were warm and you batted his shoulder, biting down on a brilliant grin. “Go, you menace. Kisaki will scold you if you show up late.”

He gave you one last smile and you closed the door behind him with a wave. 

Menace. You patted your belly, loving how soft it felt underneath your palm, as if your body was preparing to make itself the most comfortable stay for your little bean. You sighed happily and proceeded to rest on the couch. Ever since you had told Shuji about your pregnancy, he was adamant on not having you up on your feet for too long. 

Meal times were relegated to the chefs preparing fresh food for you, healthy breakfasts became the norm though you were allowed to indulge in Mac ‘n’ Cheese once in awhile to satiate your cravings. “Your daddy is an evil man,” you fondly muttered to your belly. “He won’t even let me eat a whole pack of chocolate chip cookies. Says I can only have five—max. Do you agree that he’s so wicked, Shusei?”

You had no idea when you started giving your baby that name, but it made sense. It held a piece of Shuji in it and the whole meaning of ‘Shusei’ was “soul-bond”. This baby was the bridge between you and Shuji—a child once made from convenience and now fostered with love. A perfect choice. 

The doorbell rang, and you stood back up to get it, thinking it was one of the chefs. But, when it swung open, you were momentarily stunned to find Chifuyu on the other end.

“Hey, Guzzler. Looking glowy.” 

“Fuyu,” your shock melted into friendly delight. “Hey. What’re you doing here?” 

“Shuji-san sent me to watch over you today. Iroto is overseeing a warehouse delivery.” 

You welcomed your friend in, and he swiveled around to take in your space. “Nice crib. Shuji designed it?” Your mouth opened to answer, but you found you could not remember. Whose house was this, anyway? You had no idea if the modernist greys and sleek whites were from your designing touches or Shuji’s and you clamped up, unsure of what to say.

Chifuyu noticed your silence, and he nudged you gently. “Hey, you good? You zoned out there for a bit.”

“I… I don’t remember,” you murmured, suddenly embarrassed. “Most of my memories are still not back.”

Hearing that, the dark-haired Toman member frowned. “But, it’s been months. Surely you can remember some things?”

You rummaged in the fault of your memories and came back empty, besides a few impressions and still images that did not make sense in the whole picture. “I can remember my home. My father’s house, I mean. The coordinates. Um, some bits about the lessons I had before I married. Mostly my tou-san and snippets of some men who were always at our house. I… I’m still drawing a blank on Shuji, though.”

Something perturbed the other man. You could tell. His jaw ticked and he darted his gaze away. “Maybe it’s best if you don’t remember.” 

That got your attention. You wanted to ask him what he meant when Chifuyu’s phone beeped, and he fished it from his pocket, frowning at the screen. “Hey. Sorry about this. I know I just arrived, but there’s an emergency down in Odaiba. Something about a potential police raid.” Your face blanched. Shuji.

Gathering your composure, you nodded. “Of course. You go ahead. I’ll lock up and tell Shuji what happened.”

Chifuyu grimaced, raking his eyes up and down your form. “It may take a few days for us to settle this. You sure you’ll be okay? Shuji may not be home for close to a week.”

Your heart fell right into your stomach, but you were trained to never show emotions so readily on your face. Instead, you hid your concern and disappointment at not seeing your husband for a considerable time behind a neutral smile. “I’ll be fine, Chifuyu. It’s only a few short days. Tell Shuji I’ll be okay and that I can handle myself.”

His crystal eyes flashed, and you could hear the cogs in his head turning. “In any case, the only ones to know of your pregnancy is me, Shuji and your father’s closest men. No one knows just yet—not even Kisaki. Stay safe, okay?”

You nodded. “Okay.” 

Chifuyu left, taking with you the last shred of your composure which disintegrated the moment the door closed. The tears you held back—the concern you had for your husband—drip down your cheeks. 

Never would you have anticipated to feel such worry over your husband. It was not just the fact that he could be hurt, but you had another factor to add into the mix now. Your baby. I couldn't live with myself if Shuji got hurt and Shusei did not have a father. You ardently wished history would not repeat itself. All you wanted was to make sure your beloved baby got the love he or she deserved from two present, well-adjusted parents. 

Something you never did have. Something Shuji did not have. 

Everything you hoped your sweet child would have so readily, without needing to fight for it. 

Shuji… please, be safe. You started to sob quietly. Come back home to me and Shusei soon. 

“It’s over.”

For the second time in a few weeks, Shuji was trying to break it off with Ichika. The other woman was not crying or sobbing as she did the last time she found herself in the same predicament. 

Her brown eyes were crystal clear and her countenance free of clouds, Ichika looked more… refreshed. As if she did not lie to the second most notorious man in Japan. As if she did not try to deceive him and ruin his marriage with his beloved wife. Shuji mimicked her cool facade and lifted a brow. “Well, that was easy. You can keep everything I’ve gifted you… or not. Whatever you want to do. But, it’s over, Ichika. Y/N is the one I want.”

The tiniest of fissures cracked across on her porcelain perfect face. “Even the diamond necklace?” 

Honestly, Shuji could not give a damn about whatever bits and bobs he had bought for her in the heat of the moment. All he wanted was to wrap this up and return to your side to care for you and the baby. In answer to her ludicrous question, he shrugged. “Sure. Up to you.” 

When Ichika did not reply, Shuji paused. Taking in her countenance. Harumi Ichika was a beautiful woman; there would be little doubt that another man would take a fancy to her and fill in his shoes. If she played her cards right, she may even end up with someone with deeper pockets. It was the least he could wish for his ex-girlfriend in hopes to assuage his guilt for destroying her. 

“Well… I guess this is it. Have a good life, Ichika.”

He made to turn, but her soft voice stopped him. “At least tell me why you’re leaving me so cruelly.” Her voice tremored and he mentalluy cringed. Please, don’t make her throw a fit right here. 

Shuji didn’t bother turning around to face her. Partly to keep his expression hidden and another part because a liar such as herself didn’t deserve it. “My wife is pregnant. We’re about to be a family and I want to take care of her. Please, don’t contact me anymore. It’s truly over between us.”

Ichika curled her hand over the doorway to her little apartment, letting her face fall. So, the rumours were true. Apathy and bitter injustice curdled in her veins. Why did you deserve to live the life she wanted? Why was it you that had a the privilege to call him yours? 

Pregnant. Ichika could’ve puked. If that were the case, she wished you every ounce of good luck. You would need it. Shuji truly was such a cruel man. And the young woman had seen many a brutal bastard in her lifetime. Let that bitch handle him, she spat with vitriol inwardly. Let her see for herself how inhumane he can be. 

Outwardly, she did not argue with him. “Of course. Have a good life, Shuji.”

If it wasn’t for the minute tremble in her voice, Toman’s second would have thought she was planning bloody murder. A show of emotion was always good—it meant that a person was coming to terms with their pain and would not retaliate. Shuji needed complete subservience to ensure she would never harm you. 

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, back still turned. “I wish you the same. Goodbye, Ichika.” 

She did not answer. And he did not push for a response. Walking away from his once safe space to start a new life with the only person who mattered. 

The door closed behind him, locking with finality. 

“What do you want to name our baby?” 

Shuji’s voice over the phone, laced with nicotine and a little bit of the whiskey he drank to keep himself awake in Toman’s headquarters could never quite get him heady compared to your sweet giggle.

“Don’t you have to leave soon?” you scolded lightly over the phone. Amber eyes glanced at his watch. Five more minutes. Never enough time to hear about you and your day.

“Yeah,” he murmured, “But, I still want to hear your pretty voice. So, keep talking, darlin’.”

He could sense you rolling your eyes from the other end of the line, and he grinned, uncaring that anyone passing by would see the great Reaper of souls smiling like a love-sick idiot. His wife has the key to his calmness, they would whisper. Let them. They were right. 

“Hmm,” you paused, and it was easy to imagine your sweet face scrunching up in thought. “Shusei. I love that name.”

If Shuji’s heart was out of his body for the world to see, it would be jumping in the air and spinning a cartwheel. Taming the emotion in his voice was hard to do, but he managed to put a lid on his overflowing gratitude that you were the one he was doing this with, exhaling a short laugh. “Shusei, huh? After me, doll?” 

“Yeah,” your shy admittance stole his breath. “A little baby boy with your eyes. Shusei. I think that’s fitting. It means—”

“—Soul bond,” he finished for you, a lump in his throat. “I know, doll.”

He had never known a silence to be so tender. Where he came from, every stretch of quiet was a waiting game for a night full of terrors and screams. Broken noses, scarred skin. Moans thumping around the small bedroom and his mother’s glossy-eyed stare the morning after, more cheap concealer patching the bruises around her eyes and the bite marks on her throat. 

“Come back home soon,” your small voice ignited such a strong desire to see you that he almost spun on his heel to return back to your side. “We both miss you, Daddy.”

“I miss you both, too,” he mumbled, staring at his watch. His five minutes was up. “I’ll see you in a few days time, yeah? G’na be thinking of you and baby Shusei.” 

“Okay,” a rustle and the sound of your lips pressing to the receiver. “Mwah. I love you, Shuji.”

He resisted the urge to giggle like a fool. “I love you, too.”

“Say mwah,” he could practically hear your pout from where he was. “Say it or else I won’t sleep well tonight, Shu.” 

What a menace his wife was. Truly, she was the epitome of a true Mrs. Hanma. “Fine. Mwah. I love you, baby. Give Shusei a kiss for me.”

You ended the call with another loud smooch and he chuckled, not noticing Kisaki standing by the doorway, a knowing smile on his face. Shuji bristled and narrowed his eyes in irritation, already knowing what Tetta would say. 

“The wife all happy and loved up?” 

“Shut up,” Shuji mumbled, tossing his phone onto his desk and loosening his tie. “I know you’re here to gloat.”

Kisaki shook his head, that stupid knowing smirk still on his ugly mug. “Just here to say I told you so. Y/N is a good choice for you, Shuji. She balances you out.” For the first time, Hanma hated that his friend and leader was right. 

“Yeah, yeah. Yin and yang and all that bullshit. You’re such a smug son of a bitch, Tetta.”

“Am I wrong, though?” his blue eyes sparkled in amusement. “You do not know how lucky you are to have Y/N as a wife. I’ve heard many gang princesses are not as nice or as patient as she is.”

Shuji’s stomach turned. News in their world of prissy wives demanding for retribution on their husbands from their powerful yakuza families was few and far between, but they existed. Part of it was the reason why he kept away from you was due to your father’s status. The idea made him shudder and thank every deity that you were not of the revenge type. 

“She’s a good woman,” Kisaki hummed, interrupting Shuji’s thoughts. “Don’t fuck it up with her, Shuji.” 

The tall, golden eyed man rolled his eyes. “Hard not to when I’ve knocked her up already, Tetta.” He could tell Kisaki was not anticipating such news. Cold, diamond eyes widened, hardened and softened at the same time.

“Good. That is good news. Now, shall we get the meeting going so we can return home sooner?” To our families. Tetta didn’t have to speak that last part for Shuji to hear it.  

He cracked his neck, plastering on his signature, wide and unnerving grin—the foreboding Reaper, ready to start killing with efficiency. “Let’s do it.”

Anything he could do to get home to you and his baby quick enough. 

With your hair washed, your body completely squeaky clean and dinner cooling on the stove, the only thing missing to complete your night was a glass of red wine. 

But, alas, you could not do that because of one, very important person. 

Your lips stretched into a fond grin and you danced a little in one spot, overwhelmed with happiness. Patting your stomach, you cooed at your baby. “Shusei? How’re you feeling? You’re so awfully quiet in there, y’know. You didn’t even make mommy go to the toilet once today.” 

The moment those words left your lips, you felt a little shiver running down your spine. 

Is my baby okay? You spread your palm over the soft of your belly, closing your eyes and trying to feel your darling angel. There was a minute movement, and your breath hitched. Though it was far too early to tell if the baby was all clear, it was in that slight twitch that you held faith. Shusei will be fine. 

Mindlessly, you hummed a tune, one that was unfamiliar, and you wracked your memories for the name of the song. Slightly frustrated, you tried keying snatches of lyrics, and the only thing that came to mind was you’re all I’ve ever known…

A-ha! You found the song, and clicked on it in Spotify. 

A rich tenor filled your penthouse, and your eyes filled up with tears. Of course. This was your wedding song. The one that played for your first dance with Shuji. But… why did it leave you with such profound sadness? It did not make any sense and you let the lyrics fall around you, trying to wrack your brains for an inkling of what could’ve made you so down. 

Like quick flashes, you saw his gold eyes. Though, they were not rich amber, but a flat gold. Emotionless. Unattainable. 

You gasped, nearly dropping your mug of hot chocolate. 

What the… 

Before, you could detangle the treacherous thoughts in your mind, your phone beeped. Frowning, you set down your mug, letting your first wedding song play in the background on loop, before clicking on the blank number. 

The first message itself was enough to make your heart squeeze in dread.

Do you think you’re the only one Hanma Shuji loves? Think again. 

Your breath hitched when the unfamiliar number sent three separate attachments. The WiFi was slow, dragging out your impending dread, and you cursed the racing thoughts which colored you in shades of complete doubt. 

What did they mean by Shuji wasn’t faithful to you? 

The notion was absurd. 

You had seen the way how your husband looked at you, how he treated you like you were made of glass. The way he held you like you were something precious to be protected.

If Shuji was unfaithful, you would know. Never did you catch him with a wandering eye or the telltale signs of perfume and traces of lipstick on his clothes. He always came back on time, did whatever you requested of him and most importantly, he made you feel like the only woman on this planet. 

There could’ve been no way—

The first video loaded, and you were struck into a stunned disquiet by what unfolded before you. 

In the frame, unmistakable with the tattoo of ‘Sin’ running down an unknown woman’s belly, your husband was passionately fucking into another woman’s pussy, using her to get off. The silence of your marital home exacerbated the sickening squelches of their sexes meeting, and his deep groans you thought were reserved solely for you were now muttering a name.

Moaning a name that was not yours. 

You thought you could’ve hurled. 

Scrambling, you ended the video, wanting to remove the sound of your husband’s moans over the song you both first danced to. You disconnected the Bluetooth speakers from your phone, a heavy silence blanketing your tremoring body. 

This is wrong. This is heinous. 

Pausing the video, you took another deep breath and swiped to the next one. 

Mercifully, this one did not have Shuji fucking another woman, but it was a silent recording from underneath a meeting table. You could barely make out the curve of his defined thigh, the rumble of his voice in the background clearly spewing out the next words that hit your soul with astronomical waves of pain.

Wetness slipped down your cheeks, and you were close to hyperventilating when the meaning of this clandestine video became clear. 

“I will kill her if she so much as ever disrespects me.”

A consternated grunt. “Sir, this is your wife—”

“She means nothing to me.” It got worst the longer you listened in. “Once Tomio gets what he wants, I’ll divorce her. A fucking grandson for my freedom. It’s over, then.” 

You paused the video, the hot tears splashing down your thick bathrobe, drowning out the pounding blood rushing in your ears. With trembling hands, you clicked on the next attachment which happened to be a voice recording.

“... I love you,” your husband’s husky voice echoed around the lonesome penthouse. “Ichika, you are my world. I love you.” 

The phone slipped from your hand, clattering onto the floor, unnoticed from the deluge of tears that wouldn’t stop racing down your cheeks. 

This cannot be happening. This is wrong.

A cracking that fissured deep in your mind.

And then—the memories poured out like an overflowing urn.

His words, his actions, the pain he bruised on your soul. The empty penthouse, the bags you packed for your honeymoon only to be informed he was on another trip by impassive-faced underlings. With her. With Ichika. 

God. You heaved, spewing out strings of spit onto the carpet. It was her all along… how could I have been so blind? 

The same diamond necklace. The anger in her eyes. Your missing bento. 

You had been conversing with your husband’s mistress in the pretense of civility when you should’ve caused an uproar this whole time. 

Shuji… you let her humiliate me. In public. In front of your entire organization. 

Pain unlike any other you had ever experienced in your life overflowed past your lacerated soul, spilling out as broken wails which drowned out the last of your common sense to keep it together for your baby. How many secrets have you kept from me, Shuji? 

In the background, the singer’s dulcet voice crooned on and on from your phone’s speakers about his affections for his woman, assuring her that she would be his only love forever. 

Liar. Even the song you first danced to at your wedding was rubbing the awful truth into your face.  

Palms pressed to your stomach, you shook your head from side to side, as if to dislodge the reality that Shuji had unwittingly destroyed this marriage. The walls started to shake, and your teeth chattering was the first indication that you were spiraling into a panic attack. 

It felt like an earthquake was rocking you apart, tearing you limb by limb to leave nothing in its wake. One second, you were leaning against the counter, and the next, your body toppled to the floor, nails digging into the carpet as loud, uneven wails erupted from your mouth, your entire heart tearing cleanly into two. Snot and saliva trickled down your face, one hand clawed in your hair to tug at the roots, taking out your unending pain physically onto your writhing body. 

As if the agony was a livewire, it ran through you with jolts that left you heaving, blubbering uncontrollably in a lump on the hard ground. 

Shuji… Shuji, how could you do this to me? 

What sins did you commit to deserve such treatment from your husband? What heinous crimes did he suffer from your hands that he had to resort to such cruelty that immobolized your heart to a perpetually burning stake? 

You were dry heaving on the ground, the furthest thing from the composed, unfeeling Blood Phoenix princess the world knew you as. They never saw the scars, the hatred directed towards you for your only sin of existing in a world where you were not wanted but still exploited for these men’s gains. 

It started with your father, who disdained you from the day you entered this world because it was from your existence that your beloved mother met her demise. Years of being looked down upon, chased out of family rooms and your father’s embrace when it was all you wanted—all you needed to feel a shred of belonging. It haunted you with the realization that you were so undeserving, not even the man who brought you into existence could love you. 

How could you expect another man to adore you when the first man who was supposed to love and protect you could not even do that because of the skin you were born in? To be a  woman was a sin when the matters of dark politics were brought into play. The one variable you had no control over was the one they punished you the most because of it. 

You were nothing but a pawn on their chessboard. An unwilling player in their bloodthirsty games. 

But, what truly hurt wasn’t your father’s cruelty or even this world that failed a fragile woman just looking for love and belonging. 

It was the fact that you thought you had finally gotten it in the form of Shuji’s love. 

That your years of exhaustion on the road trying to bend every single bone in your body to find a home to belong to was not the respite you desperately wished it was. 

Where you once thought his love would be a plush mattress that would finally keep you safe from the horrors of this world had distorted into a bed of thorns that left you gaping and wrecked; blood spewing out from every bruise he left on your soul. 

From his mistreatment, to his emotional abuse and down to his infidelity, you had to wonder—was any of it real? 

Were any of his gestures like taking you out to Kanagawa, the sweet nothings he whispered after making love to you, or even the tender manner he held your body close as you fell asleep in his arms done with an honest heart? 

Or was it because he had a deal to fulfill? 

Once Tomio gets what he wants, I’ll divorce her.

No, your eyes rippled shut, more tears slipping down your swollen cheeks as you gurgled out a soft sob. None of it was real. 

Shuji had thoroughly milked you as the biggest leverage to his game, and like a fool, you succumbed to the pitfalls of his charm.

And look at where it brought you. You rubbed your belly, those ground-fisurring sobs petering into hiccups. After all that was said and done, it was you who suffered the most from these lies. You were pregnant and heartbroken, completely lost as to what to do next, your entire soul screaming for you to run away from this disastrous life and never look back. 

The ache in your chest could’ve almost drowned you from the neverending waves of pain and your eyes smarted, another flood of tears threatening to submerge you in your vortex of grief. By some miracle, you managed to sit up, rocking on your heels. 

Gripping your phone to your chest, you mechanically went through the short chat with the unknown number, blocking it and proceeding to your messages with Shuji. 

It was like you wanted to hurt yourself even more to hammer in the truth that you meant nothing to him.  

Those unanswered texts from what felt like another life where you played the unwilling part of a nagging wife tore through you like steel talons, reminding you of your foolishness. 

Shuji, are you coming home for dinner? 

I’m waiting in bed for you, husband.

Shuji, where are you? I’m worried.

Shuji, please come home. 

The truth was staring at you right in the face. 

Hanma Shuji was a man incapable of love. He had brought you into the wringer, took you for a ride against your own will and left you devastated at the very end; the catalyst to your undoing. 

And for weeks, you suspected nothing.

Idiot. No wonder your father couldn’t trust the Blood Phoenixes to you. If a woman could be so blind to her husband’s infidelity for so long, she wouldn’t suspect a double-crosser even if they handed her a glass of spiked sake. 

Useless. There must’ve been a reason why Shuji did not love you. Perhaps, it was because you were never strong. You’ve only met her a handful of times, but you could tell that the other woman—Ichika (you almost threw up at her name)—was far more resilient and resourceful than you ever were. The right lover for the second most dangerous man in Toman.

Nothing you did ever mattered. You were nothing.

Slowly, you picked yourself off the floor, shoulders slumped and phone dangling limply from your fingers. It was mechanical—first, you shuffled into your wardrobe, picking out your tote bag.

Where will I go?

Packing the essentials, you stuffed it full with your most precious items. 

The first dress you bought with your own money from secret counseling sessions at a child centre. The Tiffany bracelet that once belonged to your mother. A pair of earrings that also used to adorn your mother’s lobes. Your eyes landed on the diamond necklace Shuji gifted to you and a sludge of irrational anger welled up in your chest. It spilled out like a putrid cry, and you wrenched it off its stand, tearing the clasp, the glittering stones falling to the ground like diamond raindrops.

You picked up the largest one, the rational part of your tormented mind reminding you that you could fetch a good price at a pawn shop for the pendant. The same one shining off Ichika’s neck.

Fool. You slammed a hand to your forehead, as if to knock more common sense into your head. You stupid, stupid girl. 

Tears welling in your eyes, the hurt clawed through your chest like a hot, iron fist. 

Before you could make a run in the dead of the night, like you did the very first time, your phone rang. 

You were barely cognizant when you answered the call, your frozen lips murmuring a soft, “Hello?”

“L/N Y/N?” 

The unfamiliar voice struck a chord of terror into your already frazzled soul. “Yeah. Who is this?” 

“This is Iroto, Kisaki’s bodyguard. I’m so sorry, ma’am.”

You tightened your grip on the phone. Shuji. Despite everything that was forcefully unearthed like a rotting, bloated corpse that permeated the room with pungent lies your cheating husband told you, a part of you wished no harm would befall him. 

Please… don’t let anything bad happen to him.

“W-what happened?” 

“It’s your father,” a pause. “L/N Tomio has suffered a stroke and you are requested to attend to his side immediately.” 

a/n: reblogs and feedback are much appreciated!!

tagging [closed]: @soushswag @euryale16 @grindouse @legitnoi @sickhiqs @hanmas @gojojang @queenbunnny999

© all works belong to lalalunanymph. do not copy, repost or claim as your own.

---

— 𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 : 𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐫

cw: fem!reader. infedelity/cheating + unprotected sex, handjobs, kissing, hickeys, oral sex, praising. strangers->lovers with a hint of angst. toxic relationship (?) with floch. i wrote part one earlier, but revamped it. and changed it around hehe

˗ˏˋ ࿐ྂ seeking out eren was initially a dare; but things got real quickly.

PART ONE -- this fic is LONG. like 9.3k words. part two will be linked at the bottom.

“Wait, so you did what?” 

You shamefully covered your face with two hands as you retell the story on how you chickened out with Floch. 

Yesterday was a complete failure, a disaster at that. You couldn’t tell what went wrong, or recount what exactly was going through your head and causing you to stop. But you did—unhooking your hands from Floch’s neck, reaching down to pull his hands up and out of your shorts from where he was touching you.

Floch looks down at you, confused, as he watches you sit up slowly, causing him to sit back onto his knees. 

“What’s the matter?”

“Nothing.”

“So…why’d you stop?”

You wish you could answer.  You wish you could tell him it’s not his fault. It’s yours. Everything was going so well; infact, this was the furthest you’ve gone with Floch. Whenever he comes over (or you go to his), you try your best to keep things PG, not ready to go all the way yet. But he ignores your advances, always touching you a bit too much during a movie, or standing way too close behind you to ensure you could feel his hard-on. 

It makes you so uncomfortable. And you’re sure he’s getting sick of you always avoiding his advances. He’s a very short tempered person, and you’re just waiting for the day he snaps, probably calls you a slut for leading him on or something. You’re waiting for it.

A part of you doesn’t blame him. You’d been “together” for almost five months, and you both haven’t even gotten past first base.

You stiffen when you feel his fingers trail up your thighs, stopping just above your pussy, looking at you for approval to continue. “Did I do something wrong?”

You try to look down at his hand just inches above your pussy, but you don’t get the oppurtunity too—his spare hand already forcing you to look into his eyes instead. You swallow hard before shaking your head.

“So, if I didn’t do anything wrong, why’d you stop? Don’t you wanna go further—” The second you feel his fingers start moving again, you’re off the bed, scrambling out of the sheets so fast. You don’t even look back as you leave his bedroom, running down the stairs to grab your shoes by the front door. 

You had to leave his house before the embarrassment truly hit you. It crept up on you hours later in bed, causing you to groan loud into your pillow. What was wrong with you? Why did you find it so hard to do anything with Floch, that didn’t involve watching Netflix. 

You wanted to experience what every other girl that’s lost their virginity went through, wanted to explore that feeling you see in porn, wanted someone to go down on you and have your body played with like in your dreams.

But you just weren’t ready.

And everyone else was.

“Damn, that sucks.” Hitch shakes her head at you, “I don’t really blame you though, I wouldn’t wanna lose my virg to someone like Floch.” Hitch rolls her eyes and leans back against the staircase, “He’s creepy.”

“He’s not…he’s sweet?” 

“Why’d you say sweet like that?”

“Like what?”

“Nevermind.” Hitch says before rubbing her temples, racking her brain to help you think of something to fix your problems. Hitch had already lost her virginity during freshman year, it was a mistake, but it felt nice and whenever you have questions about sex she’s willing to tell you about it. When she thinks back on it, she lost her virginity to an ugly dude when she was desperate at a party. It was truly a mistake, but the next time she had sex, the guy was midly attractive and it suddenly felt a lot better.

(She regards the fact that sex feels better based on the individual and their skills, not just their looks).

“I know! I can fix your problem!” You flick your eyes up to her, raising a single brow to get her to continue talking. “You need to lose your virginity to a sexy dude.”

“Floch is se—”

“No. He’s a redhead and he’s straight up hideous. You need to lose it to someone hotter. Then you’ll feel more confident with Floch. I guarantee it.” Hitch nods to herself like her plan is bulletproof, like there isn’t many holes with it. 

“First of all, I’m dating Floch, so me fucking someone else is cheating. Secondly, there’s nothing wrong with redheads! Floch is actually really sweet—” You think back on all the times he’s cussed out people for walking too close to him, to the times he got mad at the teacher for not marking his work correctly, how rudely he bosses people around him, how he sometimes sabotages his basketball games by shoving his oppentens a little too hard which causes him to get benched— “Okay, well, he’s nice to me.”

“Yeah…okay.” Hitch rolls her eyes, “it’s not cheating, if you guys aren’t together. When’s your anniversary?”

You clamp your lips shut, folding in on yourself because you came to the realisation that you don’t have one. Why? Because he’s never asked you out. 

“I…I don’t know.”

“Exactly!!!! Which is why you should fuck someone else! Like, like—uh— that hot blonde-nerd in our biology class, Armin? I think, ORRR his best friend, Eren. Yeah. Definitely, Eren. He’s so hot.” Hitch practically had hearts over her eyes as her brain replayed the memory of Eren taking off his hoodie in class, his shirt underneath getting attached to the hoodie as he lifted it off, giving everybody a glimpse of his toned body.

(Hitch almost had a nosebleed that day. You told her to calm down, but that sight was burnt into your retinas that night).

Armin was cool, you’ve spoken to him a couple times because you’d been put together in groups. But you don’t really think he’s hot, or well, according to Hitch’s lame ass theory, “attractive” enough to make you more comfortable with losing your virginity. 

Eren on the other hand—well, he’s Eren.

But like hell, you’d ask someone like him. He’d probably just ignore you. It causes you to laugh at the sheer audacity of Hitch’s proposal. 

“What’s so funny, [Name], I was being serious!” Hitch almost feels offended when you laugh even harder, the snort leaving your nose at the sheer absurdity of the idea.

“You’re serious!?” You hold a finger up, another loud laugh escaping your mouth. The two of you were too busy laughing and sulking at each other, that you didn’t notice the doors open in the hallway, a group of three boys entering inside, talking loudly. “Let me get this straight,” you wipe at the tear on your eye, “You just want me, to walk up to Eren Yeager and ask him to—”

“Ask me what?” 

Hitch’s eyes go wide and her jaw drops because she recognises that voice. You press your lips into a thin line at the realization that you fucked up. You don’t even need to turn your head to the side to see him staring at you—those piercing green eyes practically boring into your skull, awaiting your answer as to why two random girls he’s never seen before are gossiping about him.

You face your fears, turning your head to the side, slowly, praying that another dude inside your college was called Eren Yeager. Highly unlikely, but it’s worth a shot. You’re immedieately met with green, tired, eyes staring at you, one brow raised in mock confusion as he waits for someone—anyone to speak up. 

His three friends next to him, you recognise them as Connie, Jean and Armin, are looking at each other awkwardly and their stares make you want to run over to the window and launch yourself out of it, despite being three floors high. 

Eren is starting to get annoyed, his face flattens and you get scared. Armin, tugs his sleeve and shakes his head. The both of them mentally comminucate for a second before he sighs loudly and the four of them continue down the hall. 

Hitch breaks out of her frozen state and crawls over to where you’re sitting on the opposite side of the staircase, repeatedly tapping your thigh, telling you to go ask him now. 

“Are you insane!? No!” You shove her hands off you but she’s grabbing at your collar, practically begging you. This is your only opportunity to lose your virginity. You look at her like she’s crazy, but know that she won’t ever leave you alone about it, if you manage to fuck up this chance forever.

So you sigh and stand up, dusting off your clothes. Just as you’re about to step down from the staircase you were sitting on, you freeze up. Realising just what you’re about to do.

You’re about to ask, Eren, if he could sleep with you. 

You.

A random girl, he’s never interacted with, or even knows the name of.

You can’t do it.

You turn to face Hitch and slowly shake your head, about to sit back down before she pushes you making you lose your balance and you stumble down the stairs, bracing yourself against the wall just before you manage to crack your skull. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Hitch!?” You don’t realise you’re yelling, until you can hear the echo of your voice throughout the hall, as well as the footsteps a couple feet down the hall come to a halt. 

They haven’t left the hallway yet…

You shrink in on yourself as you look down the hall, seeing all four boys looking at you, once more. Eren still has that confused, annoyed look on his face. Armin looks more concerned at your safety. Connie bites his lip to try to stop himself from laughing obnoxiously and Jean is similar to Eren, a brow raised up in confusion.

You want to die.

It’s now or never, you think. “Uhhh—Eren, can I speak to you? Please?”

What the fuck are you doing? Go back up the staircase and eat your lunch. Your brain is screaming at you, to stop, tell Eren, it was a mistake and move on with your day, but Eren is already answering before you could take it back. 

“Sure?”

You meant to tell him that you wanted to speak to him alone, but he clearly didn’t grab the hint. His hand is gripping firmly onto the strap of his bag, holding it upright as the other end hangs off his shoulder. 

You take a couple steps forward before clearing your throat. “Talk with you alone, please.” You mildly gesture towards his group of friends who’ve been quietly eavesdropping the entire time.

Eren, nicely enough, doesn’t argue, instead, he looks back at his friends, gesturing to them to leave without him. They mumble something to each other before walking out, Armin, stops for a moment to wave at the both of you before jogging to catch up to his taller friends.

He waits until the door on the other end of the hallway shuts before crossing the distance between you both. You look over your shoulder one more time at Hitch, who’s grinning at you and holding two thumbs up. You wish you could just strangle her.

If you thought Eren was intimdating before, upclose is evern worse. You can’t take your eyes off his face despite how hard it is to keep eye contact with him. He  was much prettier than you’d thought. Normally, whenever you see him, it’s always been from a distance. Last year, when you were first years in college, he was in your English class but he sat on the other end of the classroom, still seated on your row, but was by the window. 

Whenever you wanted to distract yourself from class and glance out the window, he was always blocking the view, his side profile coming into your field of vision as he lazily chewed the lid of his pen the entire lesson. It was that day you thought his side profile was pretty and stared at it more often whenever you needed that distraction.

You’d see him from a distance around town, the back of his figure entering a store with his loud group of friends, during his basketball matches, he’s always on the court. 

This was the first time you’re actually seeing him. Face to face. No side profiles, no backs—just his green eyes (or it is turquoise)? You’ve never noticed how pretty his eyes are upclose, everything about him was pretty. He’s still so intimdating, you think, and the silence is making you realise that he’s been waiting for you to speak up all this time.

“So…what do you want?” His voice is slow and lazy and you hate how it does something to your insides, the sheer bass of his voice is making you dizzy. 

“I wanted to ask you something—don’t think I’m weird, or anything, but uh—” You can’t believe you’re doing this. You hear some shuffling from the stairs—that bitch Hitch is most defiently leaning over the railing just to get a better look at the both of you. “Could you maybe…teach me how—” Shit. How are you supposed to phrase this? 

“Teach? I’m not really the best when it comes to academics—”

Fuck it.

“You’d had sex before right?” You blurt out without thinking and Eren almost chokes on his sentence. Honestly, he had no clue what he was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t that.

“What’s it to you?”

You can’t help but groan to yourself, hoping that he woud’ve understood what you were implying without having to embarrass yourself and actually say it. “C-could you…help me?”

Eren blinks a couple times, his grip on his bag strap falls, hand dropping to his side and you watch as he stuffs them in his pockets. His brain is scrambled trying to process what exactly you’re trying to ask him here. “So…you want me-” He points at himself, “to teach you-” He points at you, “how to have sex?”

Your silence is the answer. 

“Oh.” Eren breathes out, his voice dropping a little—

You close your eyes, waiting for his laugh, waiting for him to call you a weirdo. Or you’re waiting for him to just walk away. That’ll be the best option. You’d embarrassed yourself enough, it’s best to just drop everything and never bring it up again.

“—Sure, I guess.”

Now it’s your turn to choke, peeking an eye open to see if this is Eren or just a hologram your brain created in a short moment to try and alleviate the awkwardness in the room. “What?!”

“Why so shocked? You asked me to.” Eren raises a brow at you.

“Yeah, but—I-I thought you’d say no! Like, you don’t even know my name?!” There’s no way this is happening right now. You pinch at your arm gently, wincing when your nail digs into your skin, reassuring you that this is real, Eren isn’t a hologram and you’re really about to have a personal sex-education class with him.

“So tell me your name.” He shrugs.

You hesitate for a second, wondering if this is some sick joke. He’d ask for your name, tell his friends that [Name] asked him to fuck you, the word will spread because his friends (cough Connie) have the biggest mouths in school—it’ll reach Floch, he’d slut shame you and call you a slut and you’d be all alone and ridiculed for being a desperate virgin slut for your entire college life.

Sounds about right.

Hitch can tell you’re overthinking in your head because the silence has gone on for way too long, so she leans past the railing to get Eren’s attention. “Her name is [Name]!”

“HITCH?!” You turn to yell at her, but are stopped when you hear Eren hum, repeating your name under his breath a couple times to hear how it sounds. He decided he likes it. “Cool name.”

“T-thanks?”

“Gimme your number, we can arrange something.”

You mindlessly watch Eren pull out his phone and you start reciting the numbers of your phone letter, watching as he inputs each number in carefully, before naming the contact [Name]. 

“Alright, I’ll see you both later.” Eren gives you and Hitch a small effort of a wave before he’s out the door a couple seconds later. You walk back over to the staircase, Hitch is all jittery, too excited at the fact that you were going to lose your virginity to Eren Yeager.

The entire day, she’s giving you tips about your pussy and what you should eat before hand, don’t be stupid like her and spray perfume on your pussy just moments after you shaved—stupid shit like that. And you’re left nodding your head to everything she’s saying because your brain is in another dimension, trying your hardest to prove that this is real.

You still don’t believe it. 

You see Eren a couple more times that day around the school. He acknowledges you, giving you a nod but doesn’t actually talk to you. It’s not until you get home that you freak out and scream into your pillow.

You’re on the phone with Hitch as you get ready for bed, the time on your phone is approx 11:32PM. It’s the weekend tomorrow, so you’re not necessarily worried about waking up too late. Yawning loud as you spin around your vanity chair, looking up at the white ceiling as you listen to Hitch ramble on and on about some girl she argued with during class today. 

“Her name was fucking Annie. Who even names their child Annie—like she was so annoying with her snide remarks everytime I spoke. Who the fuck does she think she is?” Hitch huffs her cheeks out with a pout and readjusts her camera so you can see the ceiling instead. “Helloooooo?! Are you listening to me or did you fall asleep?”

“I’m listening…I just—no offence, I don’t care about Annie and her remarks. I’m tired.”

“Well, what else do you want to talk about?” 

Just as you were about to answer, a notification popped up at the top of your phone, a message from an unknown number saying ‘Hey’. You furrow your brows, grabbing your phone rough enough that the camera shakes a little bit and click on the notification.

YOU: who is this????????

“Hitch—a random number just texted me.”

“What’d they say?”

“Hey.” You watch as the little buble shows three dots before another message comes through. You gasp loudly, dropping the phone on your desk as you read the name. The thud causes Hitch to sit up.

“What?! Who is it?! What happe—”

“It’s fucking EREN!” Hitch gasps loudly, a deep sound that startles you but you choose to ignore it as you stare down at the message, wondering what to type next. 

YOU: oh. Hi eren

You blink a couple times, making sure the message is real and not just your brain playing tricks on you from the lack of sleep. You had forced yourself to forget all about the events that occurred earlier today, wanting to disconnect your memories from the sheer embarrassment of asking a boy you never had a proper one-on-one conversation with him.

“Soooo…what’d he say? What’s going on? Give me LIVE updates, you bitch!” Hitch is shaking with nerves on her bed, patiently awaiting your response.

EREN: hey, so do u wanna come over now?

Fuck.

“He just asked me to come over….” 

“OHMYG—”

You drown out Hitch’s voice as you look down at your keyboard, watching your fingers tremble against the keyboard as you think of a response. You’re not ready yet. It’s barely even been 24 hours since you made that deal with him. 

YOU: now? Like rn? This second?

Eren responds in no time.

EREN: yeah? lmao if you want

YOU: ok

“[NAME], TALK TO ME! YOU’VE BEEN SILENT FOR AGES!” Hitch is practically screaming through the phone and you take a screenshot urgently and send it to your messages with Hitch. You assume she’s read it all because she screams loud over the phone. “[NAME] GO OVER NOW.”

Before you even have time to respond, tell her you’re not ready, she’s already hung up the phone. You know she won’t respond to any messages or calls you send her unless you go over there, so you sigh and head over to your closet to change into something that wasn’t your pyjamas.

Your phone rings once more by your desk, and you go to pick it up, realising it’s Eren again sending over his dorm number and block. You had a feeling he wasn’t in your Block, because you’d never seen him around, only on campus. 

You’re pulling up to his dorm, eyes darting back and forth between the text he sent you and the big number 12 on the front of his door, just to make sure you’re at the right place. It takes two knocks before he’s already at the door, his hair tied up messily behind his head in a manbun, a couple strands dangling over the sides of his face as his tired eyes somehow look even more exhausted as he steps aside to let you in.

The door clicks shut and he leans back against it as he looks at you. This is sorta awkward. “ ‘Kay, so how’re we gonna do this?”

It’s when you both realise that neither of you have thought this through. How do you even initiate something like this? What do you say? How do you begin? All these questions run through your head as you look over at Eren and shrug your shoulders. 

Eren raises his brows, amused, for a moment then drops them and gives you a slight smile when you say, “I thought you might know.”

“This was your idea?” 

“I know…” You prefer to look down at the carpet, taking in the nice shade of brown. You have no clue what to say. You hear footsteps before Eren is taking a few steps in front of you. Your breath hitches when his hand grazes your hand before holding it. You mindlessly follow him as he leads you over to his bedroom.

“So,” Eren takes a seat on his gaming chair, spinning it around to face you as you pat down his bedsheets before sitting on it, “Why’re you doing this? First of all, I’ma need some context.”

“I—You know Floch, right?” Eren nods his head, his chair squeaks when he leans back against it, ready to listen to your story. “Well…he’s sorta my boyfriend? I think?”

“Him? Oh wow.” You can’t help but raise a brow at his tone, almost like he sounds shocked. You’re not sure if he was shocked someone like you managed to get with someone like Floch, or if it was the other way round.

“Why ‘wow’? What’s shocking about that?”

Eren can see your brows shift a little, almost like you’re getting annoyed, then he realises that what he said could easily be misinterpreted. “No! Wait, I never meant it like that—I was more like ‘wow Floch managed to get a girlfriend’, I never saw him the type, s’all”

“Oh.” Yeah, you presume that makes more sense. After all, Eren does know Floch well since they’re on the same basketball team. “Yeah, well, he’s never actually asked me out, but he treats me like his girlfriend? So I guess I am?”

“He never…asked you out?”?

“Nope. He doesn’t like labels.” The way you’re admitting this publicly should make you feel embarrassed. Eren already feels that embarrasment and his brain gets to work, thinking. From what Eren knows about Floch, he’s a bastard, uses people to get whatever he wants, and is straight up rude. It’s surprising at first, that Floch managed to get someone as pretty as you, but the more you’re talking, Eren realises why exactly Floch chose you.

For one, you’re completely oblivious to his manipulative tendencies, you’re easy to use and you’re innocent. 

Eren almost feels bad for you. “Alright, so ‘boyfriend Floch’, what does this have to do with me?”

Now you have to get to the hard part. “So…whenever I’m with him…he’s always making moves on me, but I’m not ready yet, I don’t know what it is but whenever he touches me I just freak out but I want to do it so badly. It’s complicated.”

“I’m guessing you’re a virgin right?” You nod your head and Eren leans forward, bracing his elbows on his knees and looks at you. “It happens, first time jitters. Not that deep.”

“But it’s not first time. It’s like, maybe…thirteenth time jitters—So my friend told me to ask someone to help me…and she said you—which is why I said your name earlier and why I’m here right now.” The moment the explanation left your mouth, you actually realised how stupid you sound and you’d never wanted to take back something more in your life.

Eren laughs, a deep sound that makes you sit up straight. “Alright, I’ll help you.” The chair creaks once more when he stands up and you shift further back onto his bed, back hitting the wall as he sits in front of you. It’s now that you realise how dark it is in the room, his green eyes seem to be more illuminated with the lack of light. “Have you only done first base?”

You nod your head slowly.

“Alright, kiss your hand, lemme see you.” Eren sits back and waits. You look up at him, confused.

“That--that’s so embarrassing—”

He shrugs and gestures towards your hand. You realise he’s not backing down so you bring the palm of your hand up to your face. You look at him once more, and realise his eyes are trained on your lips, not your face. Looking back down at your palm, you sigh and shake your head. “I can’t do it.”

Eren leans forward once more until his forehead brushes yours. “So you won’t freak out if I kiss you, right?”

You will. 

You definitely will.

But you exhale before shaking your head.

“Good.” Eren closes the gap between you, a soft peck of his lips against yours that had you melting underneath him. He pulls away fast to look at you, just to make sure everything is okay. “You’re so tense, [Name], relax.” 

You close your eyes, exhaling deeply to alleviate all tension from your body. Suddenly feeling a bit more confident, you lean in this time and his hand instantly comes up to slide against your cheek. His hands were so warm, the heat emitting from the skin of his palm had your body heating up with the want for more. Eren groans into your mouth when he feels your hand grip onto his shirt for more leverage.

The kiss is still a little awkward, he thinks, but it’s better than last time. He pulls away briefly to mumble against your lips. “Pretend I’m him, okay? Kiss me like you kiss him.” 

Him, refers to Floch obviously, and it gives you a bit more confidence if you pretend rather than allow your brain to comprehend the fact you’re kissing Eren Yeager. With that, you lean back in, your hands come off from his shirt to reach for his face, cupping his cheeks as you kiss him a little bit deeper. 

Eren smiles into the kiss, seeing you finally relaxed and lost all that tension from before. You’re not actually a bad kisser, he realises that once he feels your tongue slide against his bottom lip. But it’s a shame you’re kissing Eren, a natural tease. He doesn’t allow you to slide it in, instead, he slides his hands down to your waist to lift you off the bed into a laying position.

You open your eyes and gasp at the sudden switch in position, bracing your hands on his shoulders as he hovers over you. He doesn’t give you a second to breathe because his lips are back on yours. The kiss from this angle has your hands sliding from his shoulders to the back of his hair, scratching gently at the hairs on the back of his head. 

The loose hairs from his hair tickle your forehead when he tilts his head to the right, nose brushing against your own to angle your face to the perfect position. Your hand on his head goes higher until you accidentally brush against the point where his hair is tied up. You realise he’s not wearing a hairtie, instead tying his hair with his own hair in a make belief hair tie.

His hair falls over his face, making him pull away from the kiss to brush it away. You sit up on your shoulders and apologise before you take a moment to admire the view. Through the darkness of the room, there’s an obvious pink hue on his cheeks as he tries to fix his hair. 

Eren sighs when he realises he can’t retie it the way it was last time because of the darkness in the room, so he moves the hair from his face out of the way before leaning back down. “You still okay?”  He mumbles, waiting for the go-to before he kisses you again.

You nod your head a bit too fast and cringe at how eager you are to get his lips back on yours. Eren chuckles against your mouth, his lips creating some sort of vibration that goes straight down your spine, causing you to arch your back upwards to his chest slightly when he leads with his tongue this time.

You’d never been a huge fan of tongue kissing, mainly because Floch overdid it way too much—like he was trying to suffocate you with his tongue rather than kiss you. So, of course you were a bit hesitant when Eren led with his tongue this time, about to say something before you felt his tongue brush against yours, the flick of his tongue as he licks into your mouth all slow and sensual. 

It has a strange noise leaving your lips, one that you don’t realise you made until Eren groans, pushing a knee between your legs slightly to open them up for him more. His hand placed next to your head slides underneath your hair to lift your head up more while his other hand travels downwards to your waist.

The room is filled with sloppy kissing noises as well as the low hums coming from his mouth whenever you moan into the kiss. You could feel his fingerprints imprinting your skin, the heat of his fingers as they slipped underneath your shirt to slide against your waist. 

A part of you wants him to go further down. Wants him to touch you down there in the way you’ve craved all along, but you think it’s too early for that. 

You realise the difference between Floch and Eren, just from this kiss alone. Eren kisses with a purpose, a passion to make his partner melt underneath him and his touches. Floch kisses to prove a point, to assert his dominance and get you to sleep with him. His kisses were rough and way too sloppy for your liking.

You left Eren’s dorm that night, satisfied and a bit more confident. Next time you’re with Floch, you’ll tell him to be more gentle.

Let’s just hope he takes it the right way.

Eren hasn’t been in school all week. You thought maybe he’d been avoiding you, but you don’t think that small make out session last week was enough to scare him off.

Unless you were a really horrible kisser.

It had you overthinking all week, but then early this morning, around 4AM, you couldn’t sleep properly, so you trekked all the way downstairs to the kitchen to make a cup of coffee. If you were going to stay up, you might aswell do homework, right?

From the window in front of you, while you were washing a mug, you saw a coach bus pull outside the school. It was then you saw the entire basketball team exit the bus with their belongings that you remembered that Floch and Eren too had to leave the state for a tournament. Which explains the lack of Eren in school. You sigh in relief when you realise that he wasn’t actually avoiding you.

It was noisy outside. Their loud voices almost woke everybody up until their basketball coach screamed at them to shut up and enter the premises quietly. 

It was pretty easy to spot Eren, being one of the tallest members in the team and if you thought he looked tired normally, you weren’t ready for actual tired Eren. His walk was sluggish and slow, eyes could barely even open themselves to see where he was going. If it wasn’t for Armin helping him out, leading him away from the block you were in (Block A) to Block D, then you’re certain Eren would’ve fallen over. 

You saw Floch from the corner of your eye walking behind the rest of the team on his phone. You were about to drop the mug and go over to hug him or something, but you saw him smiling down at his phone and he entered Block C instead of Block A.

You spoke to Hitch that morning, telling her that Floch went to another Block at 4AM in the morning and was smiling down at his phone the entire time and she reassured you its probably nothing, despite having the feeling something was going on with him. It was odd enough he didn’t even tell you about this week long basketball tournament which as his girlfriend, you had a right to know; and now this? 

You shrugged it off, sending him a text to see when you can next link up with him. He responded two days later, which made you annoyed because you know damn well he ain’t that busy to ignore your texts for 2 whole days. But he said you could come over tonight.

Ever since your night with Eren, you were feeling much more confident about losing your virginity. Tonight was the night. You were sure of it. 

The second you stepped through the door, Floch was already on you. His hands on your hips as he made out with you a little too roughly. You had gotten used to it before, but since kissing Eren—you realised you don’t like this type of kissing.

“W-wait, Floch.” You have to push yourself away from his hard grip in order for him to stop. He’s panting, breathlessly, his chest heaving a bit too quickly for someone who’s only been kissing you for like what…30 seconds?

“What? What’s the matter?” He looks down at your hands as you place them on his shoulder, tracing your finger down his shirt slowly.

“How about…we take things slow? Yeah? Kiss me slowly, we have all the time in the world.” You had hoped you phrased it right, even dropping your voice to a mere whisper, hoping it came off as more seductive. 

Floch blinks at you a couple seconds, unsure if you’re trying to insult his kissing style. But he nods his head regardless. “Alright, slow right?” He drops his forehead against yours, looking down at you while he intertwines your fingers together.

“Mhm, slow.” You let go of his hands to wrap about his shoulders, leaning upwards to kiss him slowly. You kiss him like you had kissed Eren those nights ago, even picturing Eren’s soft lips against yours. Floch slides his hands underneath your thighs to pick you up and he slowly places you onto the couch, hovering over you as he leans down to your collarbone and kisses your neck.

You’re ready. You’re so ready. You’ve mentally prepared for this all week—

Floch shoves his hand down your leggings and presses a thumb against your clit a bit too quickly for your liking.

—you yelp and push him away gently, shaking your head. Floch looks up at you, with a raised brow and you take a moment before speaking. “Don’t just—do it so fast! Give me a warning, or something.”

“What, are you scared?” Floch places both hands beside your head, locking you in place underneath him on the couch. “Never been touched down there before? Right?”

Your eyebrows quiver as you look up at the boy, who looks like he wants to devour you, now knowing you’re a total untouched virgin. It’s different now. Before, he knew you were a virgin, but at least some girls had been fingered, or something. 

He figured out you were a virgin whenever he tried to fuck you but you always made excuses. He didn’t know why he chose you, but he’d always had a knack for these things—picking out the perfect girl to use—and now his suspicions have been confirmed.

Fuck, he was gonna have fun with you.

But it’s too soon. He doesn’t want to scare you away. So he sighs, leaning back onto the couch. You watch as he grabs the remote and turns the TV on. 

You can’t help but feel like you’ve disappointed him.

 “Floch?”

“Hm?” He hums, eyes focused on the TV, not even bothered to spare you a glance. Your frown deepens.

“Are you mad at me?” You sit up and move next to him, placing an arm on his shoulder to be as close to him as possible. Floch doesn’t respond, instead he just continues flicking through the channels. You let out a huff of defeat, realising you’re getting the famous silent treatment. Floch doesn’t stop you when you stand up from the couch and head straight out the door, feeling like a failure.

On your way out from his dorm, you’re about to head back to your own, until you take a moment and think. You want to please Floch, but he scares you—so maybe…if Eren (someone that makes you feel more relaxed and comfortable) teaches you again, then you’d be able to be more confident and will be able to please Floch.

Makes sense, right?

Yeah….

Your feet are moving towards the elevator and mindlessly head over towards Eren’s place. He won’t lie and say he wasn’t a bit surprised when he heard a knock on his door, and you were also surprised when you saw his room was filled with his friends. Eren was tall enough to reach the door, placing a hand atop the frame he looked down at you a little confused to see you here. “Hey, why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

“I—uh, I don’t know. I just came here on impulse. But you’re busy…so I’ll come back later.” You were so ready to leave and go back home, but his hand reached out, stopping you before you could head any further into the hallway. 

“No—it’s fine. You can stay. As long as you don’t mind my loud ass friends.” He chuckles slowly, making you smile. 

As if to prove a point, one of said ‘loud’ friends screams, “IS THAT THE PIZZA GUY?”

Eren clicks his tongue before wrapping an arm around your shoulder, keeping you close to him as you enter his place. It looks much more different than the last time you saw it. Maybe because it was dark that time, but it seems bigger now. You recognise Armin, with earbuds in his ears, sitting on the far end of the couch, closing his eyes trying to drown out the noise of his friends.

You don’t blame him, you just entered and your ears are already bleeding internally. There’s loud music blasting from a tiny speaker sitting beside Connie’s feet. 

“Yeah, cause she definitely looks like the pizza guy.” Eren’s voice is laced with sarcasm as he brings you over towards the couch, patting the seat beside him.

 “She could be a pizza girl, dumbass.” Connie squints his eyes, rubs them a couple times before getting a better look at you. Connie winces when Eren smacks him on the head.

“She’s not a fucking pizza guy or girl.”

“Then who is she?!” You can’t help but fidget in your seat as Connie loudly debates your entire existence. You know he probably doesn’t mean much harm, afterall his eyes are red as hell so you think he’s under some sort of influence. But it still hurts that he doesn’t really remember you despite that altercation in the hallway last week. 

At the same time, it makes you feel at ease, knowing your existence isn’t important to guys like these, meaning you could stop feeling embarrassed over the situation last week. 

At least that’s some closure.

“I know her, she’s the girl we saw in the hallway, right?” Armin’s sweet voice speaks up, having heard the entire loud conversation through his earbuds. He might as well just remove them at this rate, they aren’t helping.

“I see a lot of girls in hallways, dude. You have to be more specific.” Connie reaches past Eren to tap at your shoulder. “What’s your name?”

You clear your throat. “It’s—”

“[Name], you don’t have to tell him if you don’t want to.” Eren is looking at you in a serious way, his face is slack like he’s not playing games.

“I appreciate your kindness, Eren,” You place your hand on his arm, “but you sorta just told him my name.” Your lips quirk up into a smile as you let out a breathless laugh at his failed attempt of keeping your identity hidden.

“So your name is [Name]. Why does that sound familiar?” Connie taps at his chin as he thinks, trying to figure out where he’s heard your name before.

“It might be because of Floch?” You question and there’s a part of you hoping that Floch even mentioned you to his friends the same way you mention him to yours. When Connie looks at you confused that you even brought up Floch to begin with, all hope is lost.

“Floch? Why would it be because of that dickhead?”

“She’s dating him, dude.” Eren cuts in and Connie’s eyes widen a bunch, his red eyes on display even more now.

“What?! He managed to get a girlfriend before me!?”

“I told you, it’s cause of that haircut.” Eren tugs at Connie’s short hair and Connie is quick to slap his hands away.

“Fuck you. My hair is perfect. Floch on the other hand—what the hell!? How did he manage to date you?!” Connie makes an overexaggarated gesture at your body and you don’t know whether or not to be offended or flattered. 

“You don’t like Floch?” You meekly ask and everyone in the room groans, including Armin which says a lot. 

“Fuck no, man. He’s always ruining shit for us.” Eren clicks his tongue as he remembers the amount of times they’ve been so close to disqualification because Floch always played too rough with the other team on the court. All the times Floch would snitch to the coach that Connie was hiding weed in his locker. You listen with wide eyes to each of their stories, surprised that even Armin had his own sort of hatred towards the redhaired. 

Connie eventually turned the music down, making Armin relieved as  he went over to the kitchen to make something to eat since the pizza guy had gotten lost and refunded them the food. It was a disappointment because Connie read online somewhere that eating pizza while high was a whole different experience. 

(You thought it was bullshit but didn’t want to crush his dreams).

You initially had ended up going there to ask Eren to help you out with Floch, but the more time you spent with him and his friends, it made you realise you just enjoyed the company instead. It was getting late outside, the sun finally setting and the moon taking over. 

Connie left, leaving Eren’s place a total mess. Armin was staying over that night to help Eren clean up the mess that Connie left.

“Do you want me to walk you back?” Eren asks as he followed you to the door to collect your jacket. Your arm froze in midair as you heard him ask the question. It caught you a bit off guard. Though you were having so much fun today with Eren, it was with multiple people. Being alone with him, the thought alone just makes you nervous.

“No, it’s alright! I’m okay.” You give him the warmest of smiles you could make as you tug your arm through your jacket sleeves. 

Eren leans back against the wall as he watches you zip up your jacket, thinking it’s a bit cute how the jacket looked a bit too big on you, how it looked too puffy and how it looked like it was about to swallow you whole.

“You sure?” 

“I’m sure—”

“Too bad, c’mon.” His arm is back around your back, ushering you away from the door, telling Armin he’d be right back.

“So, any reason why you magically showed up at my door earlier?” Eren brings up the moment you bring out your keys to open your dorm. 

“Well—” You turn to face him as he’s leaning against your door. “It was about Floch.”

“What about him?”

“He—I don’t know. He just made me uncomfortable…and I didn’t know if I was supposed to feel that way. Then he got mad at me because I chickened out again, gave me the silent treatment, and shit—”

Eren can’t help but love the way you speak, you’re so animated even when you’re talking about something upsetting. The keys jingle everytime you make a movement with your hands as you speak and it's not until you look up at him, awaiting a response , that he snaps back to reality.

“He made you uncomfortable?” You nod your head. “Shit, did he hurt you or—”

“No, no! He didn’t, he wouldn’t do that to me.” You say sheepishly, scratching the back of your head. “He just went way too fast for me and I liked it…slow…like with you.”

“Oh? You liked it when I kissed you?” 

You can see the grin forming on his face, that sneaky little—

“Don’t flatter yourself, Eren. I barely even remembered the kiss.” You hold your head up high, trying your hardest not to crumble underneath his heavy gaze as he lifts himself up from his leaning position to stand in front of you. You feel so small as he hovers atop of you, caging you in between his arms and you’re forced to look up at him.

“Can I remind you?” Eren carefully studies your face, looking for any signs that you’re uncomfortable. He can’t seem to find any, especially when you slowly nod your head. Leaning down, he captures your lips in his, using his grip on your chin to lift you up, making it easier for him.

You reach behind you for the doorknob, gripping onto it and struggling to open the door because Eren’s kisses were already turning you to mush. As if he could tell you were struggling, he reached down, using his bigger hand to completely cover your own before twisting the doorknob. 

You stumble backwards into your place and Eren follows you, kicking the door shut before pressing you up against the wall. You moan when he breaks the kiss, the ticklish feeling on your skin when he moves his face down to your neck. His lips gently graze your skin, searching for the right spot before leaving soft kisses along the column of your throat.

“Eren,” You squeeze at his hair, tugging it hard, eliciting a groan from his lips.

“Yeah? What’s wrong?” He pulls away from your neck, kissing his way up to your lips. His hands holding you up graze your thighs, squeezing them in his grip when you lean forward to kiss him again.

“Couch, please.” You struggle to let the words out, your mind is too foggy, too filled with Eren. He heads down your hallway, placing you gently on the couch before tugging your ankles towards him and opens your legs wide enough to slip his body through your waist and you wrap your legs around his hips, pulling him flush towards your body.

“You okay?” He presses a soft kiss along your neck, pulling a shiver from you, “want anything?”

You unglue your tongue from where it’s been sitting at the roof of your mouth and peek over at him. “What do you mean?”

“I’m your teacher, aren’t I?” Eren hums, keeping his gaze directly on your face while his hand down south gets to moving, tugging at the hem of your shirt and slipping his fingers past to graze your skin. “What do you wanna know?”

“Uhhh—” You let out a shaky exhale when you feel him drum his fingers along the skin of your waist. He bends down to kiss your neck, sucking the skin hard enough you can practically feel the blood rushing to the surface. “God—Eren—” You throw your head back when his tongue darts out to lick just under your jawline, your pulse pulsates on his tongue and he bites down.

“You wanna go to second base?” He mutters along your neck, pressing soft kisses along the skin.

You nod your head and feel Eren’s lips curl up into a smirk when his fingers slowly head down south towards your leggings. Eren remembers what you said earlier, about how Floch went too fast and it made uou uncomfortable. “This okay?” He asks as his fingers hover over the hem of your leggings, hooking a finger through as he waits for the okay.

“Yeah, it’s okay.”

At the confirmation, Eren slowly pulls your leggings down and you shiver when your legs get exposed to the cool air in the room. He bends back down to kiss you, distracting you from where his hands are going and you loop your arms around his shoulders to kiss him better. 

You almost don’t realise his fingers slipping past your panties until you feel them get hooked to the side, exposing your cunt to the cold air. His index finger sensually grazes your clit, rubbing it in slow circles and applying just the right amount of pressure to have you moaning into the kiss.

“That feels okay?” Eren lets his eyes linger along your eyes, continuing his movements when you nod your head and beg him to keep going. He leans down to your collarbone, placing soft pecks along it as his middle finger grazes your entrance. You squeeze your eyes shut when he slowly begins to penetrate it, moving his finger in and out at a slow pace to get you accustomed to the feeling.

You bite at your lip, curling your fingers tighter in the soft hairs  that grace Eren’s neck and you tug him back up to you for another passionate kiss. His tongue swiping against your bottom lip for access into your mouth. The second you let him in, he’s groaning into the kiss, thrusting his fingers a little faster and brings his thumb up to rub your clit.

“I’m cl—close, I think, ‘Ren.” You whisper, a string of spit connecting your mouth and his own. He grins and is quick to lap it up with his tongue and sucks on your bottom lip, sinking his teeth in before pulling away.

“Already?” Eren decides to add another finger and you almost scream at the stretch. He twists his fingers everytime he pulls them out, shoving them back in and grazes his fingers right against your sweet spot. You’d never actually managed to reach it yourself, so this was an entirely new feeling for you, gripping onto the back of his shirt, you squeal and tighten up. Your walls cling to the skin of his fingers and it makes Eren groan.

If you were squeezing the fuck outta his fingers, just imagine his dick. Fuck, he groans into your neck, applying more pressure onto your clit as he enjoys the feeing of you squirming beneath him, moaning into the shell of his ear as you struggle to suppress your voice when you feel your g-spot being stimulated from two fronts. “Ah, fuck, fuck! Ere—” You don’t even get to finish his name because he’s pressing his lips onto yours, shoving the length of his tongue to push your moans back down your throat. 

“You’re gonna wake up everyone,” Eren chuckles against your lips as he feels his fingers being soaked by your cum. Eren looks down to where his fingers are shoved deep inside you, taking a moment before he wriggles them out. You watch as he brings his fingers out and how they’re completely drenched in your moisture. 

Your eyes widen, lips parted in shock when he begins to lap up his fingers, closing his eyes to enjoy the taste of you better. Your throat feels dry as you watch him suck his own fingers. He peeks his eyes open and ushers his fingers to your mouth, shoving them inside your own and waits until you begin sucking at his fingers. 

It’s a little weird, tasting yourself plus his own saliva on his fingers, but the scene made you clench around nothing. You found it strangely hot.  When he pulls his fingers out, he wipes them against his trousers before sitting back against the couch, wrapping a hand around your waist, he tugs you up to his lap. “So how was that?” 

You brace your hands against his shoulders, pulling you as close to him as possible. “I loved it. Thank you, Eren.”

“It’s no problem.” He brings a hand to the back of your head, pushing you down to meet his lips in a soft kiss.

***

Eren sighs as he takes his jacket off, tossing it on his couch as he flops down next to Armin who was reading a book. “You stayed there a long time, it’s been like 30 minutes. Everything okay?”

“Yup.” Eren closes his eyes as he leans his head to rest on the back of the couch. Armin nods at his answer, flipping the page of his book before he remembers something. 

“Oh! I think your new friend forgot her phone.” Armin reaches inside his pocket, pulling out your phone. “I was cleaning Connie’s mess and saw it under one of the cushions.”

“Oh shit.” Eren takes the phone and examines it front to back. The lockscreen is a photo of you and Hitch, she’s doing a silly face at the camera and you’re doing a simple smile, one that he’s seen lots of times. It’s a cute photo, he thinks, the longer he stares at it. Infact, the longer he stares at you, he realises that you’re really attractive and it’s weird that he hasn’t seen you around school before. 

Eren doesn’t really like attention, which is ironic because he managed to befriend the loudest people in his school, Connie Springer and Jean Kirstein. Their presence is practically known everywhere because of their distinct voices. As much as he loves their company, he prefers being on the quiet end, another reason why he loves Armin so much.

No girl troubles, no drugs, no drama. 

But being friends with people like Connie and Jean, means they get a lot of girls. Eren has had his fair share of girls these past few years, not that he really enjoyed it that much. It’s gotten a bit repetitive and he hasn’t been sleeping around as often as his own friends, rather focusing on his education.

It wasn’t until his basketball coach had a meeting with the head of the school, telling him his grades were below par that he needed to step up. If he wanted to go pro, he at least needed an education, rather than just relying on his basketball skills alone. 

It’s been two months since he’d last slept with a girl, now trying his hardest to focus on school but the second you showed up last week, asking him to teach you how to have sex? It was weird, he was a little weirded out. But the stress of school was getting to him and it hit him that he needed some action.

Maybe that’ll get him back into the groove of things. 

So he accepted.

He still is a little shocked he’s never seen you around before. You’re really pretty first of all, and it’s surprising one of his friends hasn't tried moving to you yet. But at the same time, you’re not the most popular girl in school, you nor Hitch. You’re more on the academic side of things which sadly enough, doesn’t make you that known in school. To be known, you gotta be a cheerleader, or some sort of sports player. Eren can’t help but think it’s very cliche. 

He glances down at the phone once more and decides that he wants to meet up with you again. Maybe tomorrow, he’s going to spend his time to find you, use the phone as an excuse to talk to you again and maybe schedule your next ‘lesson’ together.

part two here

---