rie

The door closes with a soft thud as you get to sit. The sound of the rain is muted almost instantly and leaves you with nothing but the radio, virtually silent, and Eren with a hand over the wheel. You put your seatbelt on and then settle more into your seat. Turning your body to face the window. The tension in the air is so thick you can feel yourself choke around it, breathing through your nose. 

Eren’s car smells like spearmint. You’re expecting to be berated at some point, for inconveniencing him or otherwise. After all, you called him through a sob and asked him for something you’re sure he’d rather not be doing. 

Instead though, he puts the car in drive, steps on the gas, and does a turn until he’s back on the road home. 

He doesn’t say a word or even looks at you. Maybe reminding him of the fact he owed you meant he was going to treat this interaction as entirely transactional, which is infinitely better for you. You let out a breath of relief, shivering. He turns on the heat without you asking. 

You decide against speaking and give him a glance of acknowledgment. He doesn’t return the gesture. 

You hear your phone buzz in the pocket of your pants, and fish it out. As you expected, it’s just your ex-boyfriend. A slew of missed messages and calls. Your eyes hurt getting adjusted to the bright lights as you send him a quick stop texting me tonight before clicking it off. You want to throw your phone in the river, and yourself. To float down somewhere far from here, and pretend nothing ever happened. 

With the white noise of rain no longer drowning out your invasive and sad thoughts, you find yourself choking back more tears. The wound is still fresh, tender, and bleeding. 

You’ve always had bad taste in guys. 

But you thought this time would be different. He was different. Patient, and attentive and so thoughtful. It was always stable. You met his family, for fuck sake. His mom, dad, and sister - are all good people. A nice house with a garage, health insurance, and a college graduate. From a different place than you and your friends. 

It was never all that exciting, but you thought it was better that way. To keep it simple. You put in the effort to make it work. Got comfortable with complacency, and waved off all of your friends when they insisted you should date someone better. Someone who suited you more. 

Maybe someone like Eren. The thought makes your stomach sour. 

But your ex, he wasn’t a bad guy. It wasn’t so easy. He was safe, and after your other experience with romantic relationships- safety wasn’t something you could dismiss with the idea of deserving more. More was abstract and intangible. Slippery. 

 You were content, so you stayed. Stability, you told yourself, I just want stability. 

He was the last person you could imagine cheating on you. Unsurprisingly with a girl from his hometown who he’d told you about before and swore he got over. Feeling stupid, you let out an exasperated laugh. It’s your fault for trying so hard. For taking his inch and trying to turn it into a mile.

For believing it’d be enough to try. Maybe you know better than anyone, there are just some people you never get closure with. That distant look in his eyes concerned you. But a guy like him didn’t seem like he’d cheat. 

You’ve never been so wrong. 

Your stomach rumbles as you close your eyes and go over the fight. Subsequently, you forget Eren is even in the car with you. His presence fades into the background, face pained as you think of your exes apologies. He seemed sorry. 

But you’re not someone who can forgive or forget easily - so you broke up. It just complicates everything. Already broken up, but you have to get your things. Find a place to stay for the month because it’s too expensive to go home early. Delete him off your socials, and maybe get in touch with your therapist again. The laundry list of post-break-up things to do is the most frustrating and most taxing. 

The emotional healing and distrust go in some compartment until you can actually unpack them. After the initial devastations scabs over, you’re sure the sore feeling of sadness will come back with a vengeance. 

That’s later though, and this is now. 

Moping is a pipe-dream, seeing as you’re in a place where you have no one and nothing. The only person you know lives here is Eren, but you’re not really expecting any help from him after tonight. Maybe 3 days max, if he’s feeling generous enough. 

At the very least, he must feel pretty sorry for you. No snippy remark or sarcastic gripe since you’ve gotten in. You can’t figure out what he’s thinking, just as before. It’s almost impossible to get a read on his face, and that thought leaves your mouth bitter. 

As bitter as a favor. As bitter as a memory, you swipe your tongue on your teeth to rid yourself of the taste but it lingers. 

You avert your eyes to your hands, peeling the skin off the edge of your fingernails. After a minute or two, you drive in front of a stoplight. The red reflects onto your sneakers and into Eren’s car. 

“So,” He starts, voice filled with that familiar sharpness “How’s the boyfriend?” 

Ah. There it is. He almost disarmed you with his silence. It’s a weird way to start scolding you, but you’ve never really understood why Eren does what he does. You sigh, clearing your throat. It’s thick with tears you’ve been shedding all evening. 

“Ex-boyfriend.” 

The light goes green, and he takes a right. He lives farther than you thought. 

“How’d you fuck it up this time?” 

Normally, his insistence on blaming you would frustrate you. It’s classically Eren. The projection was always the name of the game when you two were dating, especially at the sour end of your relationship. 

Your desire and ability to fight are diminished though, turning into ember and ash. Giving him a shrug, you laugh a bit. 

“Don’t know,” You say with a little more honesty than you were intending to  “I just uh. I don’t know.” 

He sighs this time, and his voice goes a touch soft. Sympathy feels worse than his anger. How pathetic you must look settles in. 

“...What happened?” 

It’s hard to get yourself to say it. Even though you know it. Getting the words out feels like climbing a mountain. You lean back into the headrest and turn away from him. Watching the passing cars intently, you smile. 

“He cheated on me. From uh, a girl with his hometown,” You say, forthright. Hoping his pity might make him go easy on you “His first love. I came home and found them in our bed,” 

You can feel him go stiff beside you. 

You realize that anything he said to you right now probably wouldn’t hurt. The numb pain outweighs everything else that you think it’d slide off your back.

“And?” 

“Uh... I don’t know. She left. And we got into a fight. Broke up with him and said I’d figured something out. Just didn’t really want to be in the same room with him,” You sigh, rubbing underneath your eyes “Packed my shit and sort of wandered around trying to figure out what to do. Called you when I saw how late it got,” 

“Should’ve called me earlier,” He says simply. You chuckle. 

“Like when?” 

He huffs. 

“Earlier. Would’ve picked you from his place and fought him or something.” 

You smile somberly. 

“I thought about it, buut I thought that'd upset him, so I didn’t,” 

This he scoffs at, anger in his voice. 

“That’s so like you,” 

You wish you could disagree. 

“Yeah,” You say back, unsure of what else to do “Yeah, guess it is.” 

“What’re you gonna do now?” 

You take a deep breath in. 

“I won’t be in your hair long. I’ll try and score an Airbnb and wait it out. Leaving early is expensive as fuck.” 

“You could stay with me if it’s just a couple of weeks,” He offers easily “Airbnbs are more expensive than a ticket, right?” 

“Would your girlfriend be okay with that? Does she know you’re picking me up?” 

He stares out into the road, jaw clenched. 

“We broke up a while ago.” 

“What happened there?” 

“None of your business.” 

You scoff. 

“Of course, it isn’t,” You reply, a little angrier than you can control “Your personal life never is. My mistake. I’m a little rusty on how this works.” 

His voice is so cold it’s chilling. 

“Don’t,” He grits, hands hard on the steering wheel “Don’t fucking start,” 

“I’m not trying to start anything. But it’s hypocritical for you to ask me about the shit that just happened and not even tell me why you and your girlfriend broke up.” 

“I’m doing you a favor,” He justifies in a half-hearted way you’ve grown accustomed to “I deserve to know,” 

You laugh, voice strangled. 

“You deserve a fucking foot up your ass,” You spit, suddenly shaking “A simple ‘It’s complicated or ‘I don’t want to talk about it right now’ would’ve sufficed.” 

“You’re still good at picking fights,” He goads, mouth twisted in a sneer “Did you nag him too? Maybe that’s why he went crawling back to his first love” 

It’s too far. He’s too far, and he knows it. It’s all over his face, even masked in anger. You shoot him a deadly look, arms crossed over your chest. Suddenly, tears well up in your eyes and you can’t even look at him. It was a mistake, of course it was. You shouldn’t have bothered. Expecting anything from Eren was your own fault. Even basic decency.

Whatever camaraderie you used to have dissolved a long time ago. You bite your tongue

“You’re the fucking worst,” You sniffle, closing your eyes “Just drop me off at a hotel. I don’t want to be around you. It’s my fault for assuming you’d be civil.” 

His hands are gripping the steering wheel tight. 

“Tell me how you really feel,” His voice is dripping with sarcasm. “I think I’m being plenty civil right now,” 

“Fuck. Do you get off on provoking me? On hurting my fucking feelings?” Your voice comes to a scratchy yell, unable to contain the anger in it “I just got fucking cheated on. In the middle of a city where I don’t know a single person other than you. You’re the last person I want to fucking see, Eren. The last,” 

“So why’d you call me crying?” 

“I didn’t have a choice! If I had a choice, I would’ve called anyone else. Would’ve called Jean or Connie or Armin—anyone. Anyone who isn’t fucking you.” 

He clicks his teeth. 

“Liar,” He says with the sort of confidence that floors you “You would’ve still called me even if everyone we know was in the city,” 

It stings that he’s right. Your strength crumbles. 

“So what if that’s true? What does it matter that I thought of you? That’s always been my issue, right? How’d you put it again?” You laugh out loud, a little out of it “I should stop expecting anything from you, right?  It’s my fault. I should just stop having expectations for anyone. It must be me.” 

He looks a little strained. Almost sorry. You scoff. 

“Yeah,” You mumble, exhausted “You’re right. I shouldn’t expect anything from anyone. No matter how much I heal, or how hard I try to do the right thing” 

“Y/N—” 

“I worked on myself. Went to therapy. Took time off from dating altogether. Did everything right and still,” Your mouth fills with iron “Still. Still. I can’t find one person to treat me decently. Congrats, Yeager. It’s just like you hoped.” 

The silence that follows says more than you ever could. You rub your temple. He’s probably right that you pushed it. 

“Sorry for snapping on you,” You reply, voice tense “But, I still want to be dropped off at a hotel.” 

“Why?” 

You laugh. 

“What do you think? Think we’re gonna be able to play house for two weeks? It hasn’t even been an hour and we’re fighting,” 

He’s thinking. You can see it on his face, the tight strain of his jaw, and his brows. You haven’t seen him in person for more than a couple of years. But the familiarity always lingers. It doesn’t feel unusual, even the fighting. 

He hasn’t changed. That much is obvious. 

You shouldn’t have called, you think. It might’ve been better to get hypothermia and walk to the nearest motel.

“It’s not your fault he cheated on you,” He says. You think it’s his way of apologizing, a piss poor attempt at comforting you “Guys are just scumbags. Hung up on their first love or whatever. It’s not uncommon,” 

You don’t know if you want to laugh or cry. Frankly, you don’t have the energy for either.

“Does that include you?” You attempt to joke. To your surprise, he laughs. His voice is hoarse, and a touch resentful. Not at you, though. That feels important. 

“Yeah.” He replies, not looking over at you “Me especially,” 

It’s the first time he’s said as much about himself in your presence. Before it was that you didn’t understand him or that you didn’t get it. It’s too early to retract your previous statement. Hope sparks anyways. For what, you don’t want to know. 

You nod sagely.

“You especially,” You affirm without any trouble “At least you know.” 

This time, he smiles at you. It’s barely there. This whole conversation and the good nature of it is like walking on eggshells. You both know that. 

Eren breaks the silence first as he pulls into another lane. 

“Stay with me for tonight,” He offers “Just tonight,” 

You don’t know why he insists. A loud yawn slips through your lips and your inclination to protest dwindles before being snubbed out completely. Shivering, you nod. Your head feels heavy. 

“If you say so,” 

You think you feel a pair of eyes on you before sleep washes over you like a tide. They might be Erens, but in your delirium, you can’t be sure. It doesn’t take much for you to succumb to sleep. 

__ 

After your car ride ended, Eren woke you up gently to help you inside. This time, he took your luggage without your asking and helped you into his home. 

He lives in one of those luxury apartments with a doorman. It’s fancier than you could ever imagine yourself living in. There’s a chandelier in the lobby, with a gym and a pool.  Trekking mud into such a nice place makes you feel guilty. Eren seems unbothered. 

You take the elevator up to the 7th floor, and then a right into the hallway. Eren fishes the keys out of his pocket, unlocking the door and stepping aside to let you in. 

This is a bachelor pad. It’s the first thing that crosses your mind when you enter.

 The decoration is minimalist and expensive. Boyish in its extravagance, littered with pricey things only Eren Yeager would buy. The couches are black, the carpet is white and the windows are big panes that overlook the entire city. 

A flatscreen takes up most of the room. There’s a kitchen but it looks unused. It’s lived in, in the way that there are running shoes and clothes. Mess that happens when you spend your time somewhere, but it’s void of things a girlfriend would have in the house. You would know. 

On one of the walls is a painting of a woman's naked body, tastefully done. From what you remember of Eren’s ex-girlfriend, she’d have his head over something like that. 

Eren clears his throat behind you. When you turn to look at him, he looks a little sheepish.

“Broke up a while ago huh,” 

He looks surprised at your deduction. You poke your head at the painting. 

“She would’ve beat your ass for even thinking about putting that up,” 

His expression is affirmative. After you’re done taking it in, all of your sensory issues hit you all at once. You pull the sleeves of your soaked hoodie over your hands but you’re freezing. His eyes widen. 

“Ah, shit. Let me get you a towel. I’ll turn the heat up too,” 

“Thanks, ‘ren.”

The nickname slips out of habit, but you don’t get a chance to retract it as Eren shuffles off to grab you a towel.

 It doesn’t take him very long, a few in hand. You watch him idly as he turns on the heat before hurrying back over to you, shoving towels your way. You make him hold them for a minute, taking off your poncho and hanging it to him. 

You dry yourself off to the best of your ability as Eren goes to put away the raincoat. 

“Mind if I shower?” 

He shakes his head. 

“Would be concerned if you didn’t. I can get us food or something while you’re in there,”

“That’s… thoughtful of you. I’d appreciate it. I can Venmo—”

He puts a hand up, sitting on the back of his couch while you dry yourself off. 

“Save your money if you’re worried about it.” 

“I don’t want to owe you anything.” 

Your frank way of speaking to him irritates him, same as always.

“You won’t owe me,” He assures first “I know we hate each other's guts now, but I’m not gonna let you go hungry.” 

Warm. It makes you feel warm. You avert your eyes as you dry yourself off. 

“Your mom would have your head,” You murmur. He laughs. 

“My mom might forgive me. Zeke and my old man would hang me like a flag,” 

“How’s Zeke been?” 

His expression goes dry. They’re fighting. Eren rolls his eyes. 

“Fine. On my ass, as usual. Business is good. I’ve got a niece now. Zeke’s wrapped around her finger,” 

You’ve seen it floating on social media. You feel a little melancholy. It must show on your face. 

“You should still visit home sometimes. Don’t be a stranger,” 

You smile sadly.

“Easier said than done,” 

“...Even if you don’t see me. I’m not the only one who misses you. Jean hasn’t stopped bitching about you going to see just Armin.” 

You don’t know if he catches it. He misses you. You’re too afraid to confront it but unable to ignore it. You think over his words.

“It’s not like I don’t want to,” You start, voice slow “But after everything… after everything.”

There’s a minute where neither of you talks. Yet it’s not silent. The room is tense with everything you want to say or everything you did. Every regret, every memory starts to buzz all at once inside of your ribs like a spark of electricity through your hollow. 

“If tonight didn’t happen, I wouldn’t have ever seen you again,” 

He shakes his head with the same confidence as before. 

“I would’ve found you.”

He says it like it doesn’t need any explanation. As casual as relaying the weather to you. He gives you a look, scratching his jaw. 

“Go shower. How’s Thai? Same as before?” 

It takes you a second to find your voice. 

“Y-Yeah. Same as before. Where’s your shower?” 

He directs his eyes towards the bathroom. You grab your small luggage on your way, offering him a quiet thanks. The sound of your heartbeat thrums in your ears, faster than the pounding rain. 

__ 

Time passes like sand between your fingers. 

After a shower, a change of clothes, and a full stomach - you and Eren are left totally in each other's company. Your expectation of it being awkward or even marginally uncomfortable becomes unthinkable after a while. Despite how late it is, you aren’t tired or all that sad. 

Truthfully, you don’t know how to handle how familiar Eren feels. Like a durable winter coat with a heavy and comforting weight on your shoulders. It’s not burdensome to talk to him. He matches your pace and picks up easily on your quips. Natural lulls in conversation don’t feel uncomfortable and every misdirect or anecdote opens the door for more conversation. 

Maybe you should’ve expected that. You and Eren grew up together. Along with Mikasa and Armin, and everyone from your hometown. It shouldn’t surprise you that Eren is comfortable. 

When you look at him, you see home. If your gaze lingers. even a second too long or if you think for a minute more than necessary, you’re caught in the web of memories you’ve spent your whole life making. 

You wonder about your ex-boyfriend. The irony of it isn’t lost on you. Maybe it hurts because you understand perfectly. No matter how much you love after, there’s nothing like first love. If he saw that in her eyes, it’s all that much harder to feel angry. 

The only thing keeping you grounded is remembering that you’ve tried before and it failed miserably. It sinks you when you float too close to your heartwarming nostalgia. 

The acrid truth is that this is all temporary and circumstantial. 

Every now and again you remind yourself you’ve just been very vulnerable. And Eren’s grounding presence is helping you. 

Again and again, you remind yourself that. 

“High school was so ass,” Eren leans back into the couch, stretching his legs out “Mrs. Carnegie was such a bitch,” 

You give him an unimpressed look. He looks like you remember when he’s like this. Having changed into his own clothes, hair tied up messily. He’s adjacent to you on the couch, far enough to stretch his limbs comfortably.  

“She was nice to me. She was a bitch to you because you kept interrupting class,” 

He rolls his eyes. 

“And who was I doing that for?” 

Your heart skips a beat. . 

“Man, whatever.”

He laughs at you. 

“Weak come-back,” He hums, laying his head on the back of his couch. He tilts his head in your direction “I was a good boyfriend in high school at least,” He adds, a little softer. 

“You were. You were kinda like a puppy,”

He groans. 

“Don’t say it like that, that’s humiliating.” 

“What are you talking about? Puppies are cute.” 

“Yeah, but hearing that now is embarrassing. I’m a man now,”

You raise a brow.

“Men can't be cute like puppies?”

“No,”

“But Armin is right there,”

“Doesn’t count. He literally looks like a fairy prince. Statistical anomaly,”

That makes you laugh hard enough your stomach hurts. 

“Why’re you laughing? Am I wrong?” 

“You just said it so seriously. He is an anomaly but I think Connie is cute in a puppy way too,” 

“Connie’s bald ass? Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously. I like it, his hair looks good buzzed.”

“You’d find something nice to say about a pile of trash,” 

“I like your long hair, Yeager.”

He gives you an unimpressed laugh as you break out into laughter. 

“Low fucking  blow,”  

“Cry,” 

This time he laughs instead, throwing a pillow at you. You catch it easily, holding it to your chest. 

“I do like the hair though. It’s all you ever talked about,” 

He gives you a little smile. 

“You remembered. I thought it’d make me look cooler. Alternative or whatever. Don’t know if it’s working,” 

“Your fans seem to love it,” 

He looks sheepish at the mention of his work. You laugh. 

“It gets a mixed response. A lot of people miss the short hair. I mostly keep it long because it’s easier to style,” 

“Both are nice. I like your short hair more when I think about it,” 

“Yeah?” 

“I guess it’s cause it was short when we’re growing up. And uh,” 

“When we were dating?” 

You give him a tight-lipped smile. 

“Yeah. When we were dating, it was always short,” 

He closes his eyes, suddenly deep in thought. 

“You wanna know why I kept it short?” 

You think you’d be better off not knowing.

“...Why?” 

“When you’d play with my hair,” Subconsciously, he pushes his hair back a little “I could feel it better when my hair was shorter. Thought if I’d grew it, you wouldn’t touch it cause it’d get greasy quicker.” 

All at once, you pull back. Whatevers on your face isn’t enough to make Eren waver when he looks at you. It’s easy to get lost in his eyes. Ocean blue, and full of something dark. Tempting like an abyss or a siren song. You swallow a lump in your throat. 

“It’s something I’d do,” 

The way Eren stares at you is so intense. You’re dancing around it now. What you both want to talk about it. A conversation that’s gone untouched for more than 4 years. Sober and aching. Different but the same. 

Eren breaks the tension first. That’s twice.

“I’d cut my hair short if you asked me,” 

You’re quiet. 

“I’d do whatever you want,” 

“Eren,” 

“What?”

What do you say? Don’t? Please? What could you say that means more than his name in your mouth? 

“You know what,” You say weakly “You know,”

A conversation you’ve had a hundred times before. It burns like bile rising in your esophagus. Crushed windpipes under the burden of love. Your hands grip the ends of the pillow tighter. He sits up straighter. You don’t want to talk about it. 

“Do I?”

“Eren,” A warning. 

“There’s not any point in talking around it, “ He shoves his hands in the pockets of his hoodie “Around this. Around us.” 

“There is no us,” You correct sharply, shaking your head “Not anymore,” 

His face doesn’t have anything you can read. You know yours must read of resentment. Eren is his usual blank. 

“There could be,” 

You shatter at the sentiment. The hopeful, easy way he says it. Like he doesn’t remember anything, and that you two are strangers. You know better that you aren’t. That no amount of healing can take it all back. Maybe you could forgive Eren, and somewhere far down the line - you could even be friends. 

But us is impossible. You tried us. It blew up in your face. 

“Fuck you for even saying that,” Your voice comes out garbled “Fuck you for even thinking it,” 

“How is it fuck me? For wanting to fix our relationship, seriously?” 

You hate him. With everything you have in you, with a burning fiery sort of anger. A resentment that’s spent  years strangling you. Every time you’ve bitten your tongue, all the time you tried to fix it. 

It’s all so messy and so unspeakbly touchy. 

“The sooner you get it out of your head there’s a relationship to fix, the better off we’ll be,” 

“Bullshit. Bullshit there’s nothing. I make you feel nothing?” 

It’s not what you said. He knows that, but he means what he’s saying. And he knows your answer already because he’s like that. He already knows everything about you. Where to make you hurt, and how to make it sting. Eren is a scar, not a bruise. He stays, for as long as you’re alive. No matter how faint, or how healed - he stays a part of you. 

He knows that as much as you do. That’s why it took you so long to leave. Of course you’d end up talking about it like this, but that’s not what you wanted. Or maybe it is. You don’t really know what you want from Eren. What you were hoping for when you stayed up late to talk to him and reminisce. You think just camaraderie. 

“I hate you so fucking much,” You croak, wiping away angry tears “More than anyone in my life, I hate your fucking guts,” 

“You don’t mean that,”

“I do,” Your reply comes in an angry hush “I can’t forget how we ended Eren. The months after I left were some of the worst of my life. Do you know how long it took me? To get better?”

His jaw clenches. 

“I didn’t think you would leave,”

His confession stuns you into silence. His arrogance never fails to astound, Like this, it feels incredibly frustrating. Your stomach sours. 

“...You thought I would stay? After everything?” 

“You said you would,” He raises his voice this time. He sounds hurt. Angry. Sad. All things you didn’t know he could still feel “You—you fucking promised. It was supposed to be forever and you left first.” 

“You can’t be serious,” 

“You promised,” 

“Yeah,” This time you sit up. Everything hits you at the same time “When I was 17 and in love. Before you treated me like shit,” 

He winces. So he does know. 

“You remember now, don’t you? You changed. You left for college, you stopped picking up my calls. You were such a fucking flirt that half of your campus thought you were single till I moved in. You remember that Eren?” 

His silence makes you madder. 

“You remember. right? How I’d desperately try and fix our relationship while you ran around doing whatever? You always looked so fucking indifferent. All we ever did was fight. Nothing I did worked,” 

“Y/N—” 

“I didn’t know anything other than you. If it was anyone else… But it was you,” 

“I’m—”

“You used to tell me when we were kids that if any boy hurt my feelings, you’d kill him. You remember that?” 

He closes his eyes. 

“Don’t make it sound like I just up and left for nothing. We both know that’s bullshit,”  You choke back a sob as you think about it. The gaping hole in your chest that Eren always left splits open again. 

“I’ve always loved you. Always. From the minute I could walk and talk. I didn’t leave because I didn’t love you, Eren,”  Even now, you don’t want him thinking that “I left because you didn’t love me. I left because I realized that” 

The silence that follows your rant exhausts you so much you slump back into the couch. You learned your lessons the hard way. That love was meaningless to safety. That stability was a luxury few can afford. Nothing is guaranteed.

This second time around, you know that love can’t be one-sided. Maybe that’s what all of this has been trying to teach you. 

You cry silently, taking in deep breaths. You have no idea what he’ll say, and you don’t know if you care. 

“I’m sorry,” 

“....What?” 

“I’m sorry,” His voice breaks a little this time. You don’t remember the last time you saw him cry “I didn’t mean for things to end like that,” 

“Sorry doesn’t fix it,” 

You know it’s a mean thing to say. It’s not kind or forgiving. His sincerity doesn’t even feel real to you at the moment he says, but sorry doesn’t make you feel better. Sorry doesn't fix it.

“I know,” 

“Then why say it?” 

“I still love you,” 

Drowning. You’re drowning in murky waters, hardly getting air. 

“You don’t love me,” 

“Don’t say that,” His voice sounds weak and desperate. You haven’t heard it like that in so long. Vulnerable “Even if you hate my fucking guts. I still love you, always did. Always.” 

“Then why did you do that to me?”  

“I was terrified,” 

It’s been a long time since you’ve seen Eren. Spoken to him, or even called him on the phone. Years. Checking on him through his social media and streams was all you ever got. Sometimes Armin would fill you in, or Mikasa.

But Eren, in your eyes, had remained how you left him. He got arrogant you think. He got his fix and grew up to be tall and handsome. Had aspirations and grew out of his shyness. 

And instead of growing together, you grew apart. You started to accept the fact that the Eren you loved was no longer someone you could reach. The young, doe-eyed lovesick boyfriend. Eren was just a college boy now. Not your only exception, not the love of your life. 

Accepting that was the hardest thing you’ve had to do in your life. 

So why does he sound like someone you used to love? And why now, of all times? 

“When you talk like that, it makes me think you’re different.” 

“I am,” He stops for a minute, hands folded “I’m trying to be.” 

“...Why were you scared?” 

“It’s uhm, I don’t know how to say it,” 

“Take your time,” 

“Doing long distance made me realize how much I needed you,” His voice is hardly over a whisper. “It was ego. But I hated that. I had it in my head that you were off with other guys, and I—I don’t fucking know—I was stupid. I wanted to feel like you still wanted me,” 

“So what? You made me chase you?” 

“Yeah. Something like that. When you moved in, it just… I don’t know. I saw how everyone looked at you. I didn’t think it would make me so angry to see you like that,” 

“Sounds like…” 

“Self-sabotage,” Eren interjects “That’s what my therapist said, at least.” 

“You’re in therapy?” 

“Only a few months, but yeah. It helps.” 

“I don’t understand you at all,” You shake your head “ Not at all,”

“You bring out the best and worst in me.” He replies with a humorless laugh on his lips “Still. Around anyone else, it doesn’t matter. What they do or don’t do,”

“And me?” 

“You,” He rubs a hand over his face, voice shaking. He tries to be lighthearted but the sentiment is sincere “I make myself sick thinking about you,” 

It feels hot under your clothes. 

“We shouldn’t be… I shouldn't—”

“I know. You drive me so fucking crazy and I get so angry. I know, but how the fuck could it ever be anyone but you?” 

Your breath hitches. 

“What’re you saying?” 

“That I want you. I want you so fucking bad. I don’t want to ever be away from you ever again. I can’t help but want that,” 

You can feel him coming into your space. How he scoots closer to you, just enough that he’s moving across the couch. He’s so much bigger than you remember. Stronger. It's all moving so fast. When he puts his hand on your knee, you tense but don’t move. The dizzying smell of his cologne catches on your tongue and tickles your throat. 

His eyes dart down to your lips. His hands running up your outer thighs. You’re defenseless. Weak, you pull back a little. He doesn’t move. 

“I can’t just forgive you overnight—” 

“I know,” He leans in a little more. Close enough that his breath touches your skin “I’ll keep trying. I want to try again. I’ll earn it this time. I’ll chase you, and you can ignore me all you want,” 

He’s being cheeky as much as he’s being serious. Classically Eren. You’re so screwed. 

You feel your throat close up as he inches forward. 

“You’re so bad for me.” You whisper, the words too heavy. 

“Two sides of the same coin,” He says back, then he smiles “We’re made for each other. You think that too. I know you do,” 

“I wanted stability,” 

“I’ll try to give you it. If that’s what you want.” 

“And if you’re just a rebound?” 

“As long as I’m yours,” 

“You’re such a scumbag.” 

“I know,” 

Everything falls from under you the minute you kiss him. 

A little noise of surprise leaves his lips that instantly morphs into desire. It’s an uncouth display of emotions, so animal that you can hardly call it love. It’s something in between love and hatred, the opposite of indifference. All the intensity of life, of every terrible emotion you’ve ever had. You kiss Eren Yeager first because you miss him, despite yourself. Everything after that is just another blurry detail. 

He moans into your mouth. Where your hand has landed on his chest, he grabs your wrist and then drags you into his lap without ever breaking apart. You end up over him, with his lap under yours.

When he has you where he wants you, he hugs you close to his body. You can feel the hardlines of muscle through his shirt, his arms secure around your back. Your tits are pressed against his chest, bra forgotten. The slightest brushes are what make you feel the most.

Eren’s shaky breaths and the overwhelming way his lips move against yours. Indecision in how to treat you. Soft kisses that are followed by rough ones. The intensity of your own desire consumes your ability to act cordial, as you squeeze against Eren tight. 

You can feel the rapid beat of Eren’s heart in his chest, grinding your hips into his. 

In between kisses, he makes sure to nip at your jaw. You can feel his teeth pierce your pulse point, his tongue lapping over the leftover wound that leaves you shaking. 

He litters bites like that on every inch of your skin, your neck left with an ache. There’s something ironic in Eren licking your wounds over, but the words escape you before you can utter them.

Even in just being claimed, the feeling is intense. It makes you visceral. Not to be worked up from touch or words, but something else entirely. Something cosmic in it’s very existence. 

Eren finally pulls away from you, just barely to glance at your swollen lips. He meets your eyes as his teeth sink into the lower one to make you whine. He talks to you while your eyes are locked. 

“Fuck,” His voice is thick with lust. Heat splits you right in half “Fuck, fuck, baby. Been so long,” 

“Y-Your hands,” 

“Can’t take em off you,” They’re smooth as they feel you up. Shamelessly squeezing the fat of your hips in between in his fingers, grabbing your ass hard. A guilt creeps up for comparing him to your ex-boyfriend. 

But all you can think about is how Eren is the opposite of stability. Images pop up of when you used to have sex, so many years before. He was meeker before, less assured. You thought his confidence would make you sick, but it doesn’t. 

Rather, the look on his face while he gropes you makes you wet. Chewing his lower lip, feeling your body like he’s dying to see it under his clothes. Impatiently and unabashedly wanting you in a way that is distinctly Eren. 

There’s truth in the sentiment that no one could ever fuck you like Eren could. It’s one you’ve kept to yourself for so long that you almost forgot it. Eren knew your body and shaped it to his hands years ago. You like being touched because of how he touched you, a memory you carried like a torch. 

It was Eren who wanted you first, who fucked you first, who made you cum first when you were both so awkward and clumsy. 

“Look at you,” He groans. His hands inch under your shirt, skin on skin. Pinching your nipples gently, till they’re hard against your shirt “Look how sexy you are,” 

He knows what you like, what you like being told. 

“My pretty fucking girl,” 

Fuck. Of course, he remembers that. 

“Oh, you—” 

“So pretty,” He parrots. Even with electricity buzzing in his movements, he’s patient. Undresses you gently. When your skins bare, your shirt tossed to the other side of the room, he kisses the underneath of your tits. Each one, he kneads them. Appreciates them,  worships them. All of that undivided attention that he always used to give you when you were dating. 

When you were in love. 

“You still like when I tease ‘em too,” 

His tongue runs over your hardened nipple, sucking it into his mouth, His free hand occupies the other, taking time to give them both equal attention. Your body starts to ignite, little sparks of electricity flitting up your spine. 

Letting your fingers card through his hair, you glance down. He looks up at you with his mouth full, eyes lidded. His lashes are long against his olive skin, sun freckles over the bridge of his nose. Your hands reach to touch the moles along his cheeks, all in places you remember. 

You don’t resist the urge for intimacy. Not things you did with your ex, but with Eren. You press a kiss to his hairline and his hands get a little tighter. Your want expands, fills like a balloon. 

Feeling his cock nudge against your shorts is surprising. A blush crawls over his face, grinding his hips up into you. It’s muscle memory to do it back - rocking yourself until he’s nestled between you. Dry-humping like this makes you feel like a teenager again, doing this in Eren’s dingy basement when you weren’t ready to lose your virginity. 

Except Eren knows what he’s doing. He shifts his weight, sitting up enough to push up against your clit. His mouth deatches, a string of saliva in his place. The cool air against the swell of your tits make, adds to the sensation. 

He grabs your ass again, this time just to push you up. To set a pace as you grind against each other. 

“Wanna know something?” 

You choke back a whimper. 

“Mm,” 

“I used to jack thinking about you,” His voice is slick when he speaks, a low whisper “Remember? You used to be too sensitive so you’d rub against the edge of your bed. Thought about it all the time after you told me,” 

Your jaw drops open. 

“You—” 

“You’re a big girl now, aren’t you? Not too sensitive for this, but—,” He does it with more purpose, a long slow drag so you can feel his shaft against your clothed cunt “you still like it slow,” 

“Eren, holy—” 

“Everything you like,” He hums, this time matching how he moves you with his own body “Still remember every detail,”

“Y-Yeah?” 

“Yeah baby,” He dips his head to kiss against the column of your throat again, this time sucking deep dark hickies. You can feel his lips when you moan “Everything. Kept me company,” 

You’re almost too afraid to ask what he means. 

“Eren,” You half beg, fingers twitching with want “Don’t tease me,” 

“What do you need?” 

“Uhm,” Embarrassed. For some reason, Eren asking you is making you embarrassed. You’ve never been before “This is so humiliating,” 

“You were always shy about asking for it,”

“So why’re you making me, asshole?” 

“I like watching you squirm,” 

“Shut up, you’re awful,” 

“Put something in my mouth, then?” 

Your eyes go wide, and he smiles. His breath brushes against the shell of your ear. 

“You wanna sit on my face, right? Shut me up,” 

It was a stupid arguement you had. At the latter half of your relationship, sometimes the only way you two resolved things was sex. Eren referencing it makes you mad as much as it makes you wet. 

When you were both a little inebriated, he used to beg you for it.The memories of that make you nod. Your voice is coarse with lust.

“Wanna sit on your face,” 

“Take your shorts off,” 

Taking off your clothes is haphazardly done. You and Eren part ways. He takes off his shirt and hoodie to reveal a body cut from pure marble. He was always athletic, but clearly his gym rat posting on his IG story were genuine and not for show. He sends you a little smirk when he catches you staring, flexing his muscles a little. 

“Do I look good?” 

You nod, awestruck as you wriggle out of your shorts leaving you in just your socks. Eren does the rest slowly, stood up and taking off his sweatpants His thighs are muscular, strong with a little dark hair. It’s on his stomach too, just barely there. 

The fabric of his boxers strain against his cock. It’s big, bulges against the black material that you can see the skin. It’s intimidating to look at. 

Your eyes follow him to the couch. You watch him get comfortable, moving pillows around to make sure there’s enough space. He flashes you a smile when he’s laid down, untying his hair as a last touch. 

“Come here, angel,” He signals, waving you over “Come sit,” 

The air brushes past you as you approach him. He reaches a hand out to lace with your hands. 

“Face that way. So you can hold onto my hair, yeah?” 

“Yeah,” 

It takes you a minute. It’s easier to climb over his chest, inching towards his face. When you’re spread right over his neck, he gives you a cheeky grin. His hands reach over your thigh, pulling you apart. His eyes are zeroed in on your clit, finger brushing back the hair on you. The affectionate way he does both makes you want to hide away.

Eren is holding you in place so you can’t move. 

“Look at that,” He whispers, breath fanning your cunt “Look at how wet you got for me,” 

Instead of putting his tongue where you need it, he cranes his neck to one side and presses kisses into your inner thigh. Licking at the skin, he holds your eyes. 

“Tell me something,”He goes an inch highe and leaves a hickey before repeating it a little bit aove “Did he ever get you this wet? You can be honest,” 

Your clit throbs between your legs. Eren grins, as you squirm. You look down at him, shaking your head. 

“Not like you. I mean, he wasn’t bad but he wasn’t—”

“But he wasn’t me, was he?” He goes on, his lips pressing right against your achy clit, arousal on his lips that he licks with ease “Could never be me, could he?” 

“Eren,” You whine. His smile gets bigger, tongue licking one long stripe against your folds. 

“Say it baby. That I’m the best you’ve ever had?” 

Your reply is a meek yeah. It’s hard to do anything with confidence or self-assurance when your entire body is begging to be pleasured. Eren gives you a few more kisses on your clit, like he’s making out with it. It’s sweet and lazy, making your hips buck for more. 

“I’m the same,” He coos, sticking his tongue out as he forces your weight down so you’re not longer hovering but sitting on his face “There’s nothing like you,” 

He doesn’t hesitate to dive in right after that. Burying himself deep, your hands immediately fix at the base of his hair. He’s not shy about it, his tongue laid flat, creating just enough suction around to feel. It’s perfectly pracited, familiar. 

Eren eats you out from memory. That much is obvious to you as soon as you feel him, the wet heat of his mouth and his tongue. It’s a measured build of pleasure, soothing a long-time ache that slowly escalates to something more. 

A mewl escapes your throat. He moans against your pussy, nose bumping against you. Tugging at the roots of his hair, you wiggle your hips to get him to give you more. 

You feel the coil in your tummy when Eren goes a little deeper, sucks a little harder, moves a little faster. Encouraging you to use him to the best of your ability as he pushes your hips, nails dug in the skin to keep you steady Looking down makes you see him completely blissed out, like he’s in a comfortable dream. 

You don’t really remember the last time someone went down on you like this without asking. Like he’s enjoying it all on his own, like he wants you. There’s vigor to how he takes you into his mouth, tastes you greedily, with appreciative grunts and groans. 

The word perfect falls flat to how Eren licks your pussy. Perfect is too prim, too neat. Whatever Eren makes you feel between your legs, is far from perfect. Eren is something more. More intangible, hard to touch. He eats your pussy perfectly, but messily. Desperately, lovingly. Every inch of you is wanted, tongue nestled against your folds and on your hard clit like he wants to stay. He looks at you intoxicated and it shows in how much joy he takes in tasting you. Hitched to your very existence, like a planet revolving around the sun. 

He does it like it’s a privilege, a divine gift. Sucks like it’s sweet, ripe fruit in scorching summers. Water in an oasis, deserving of only the highest praise. Not worth wasting even for pride. Shameless. 

You can feel yourself tipping closer and closer to the familiar edge. Each second pushes you to it, closer and closer and closer before you feel the feeling again. Deep in your body, undoing you completely.

“Eren, oh—” 

You cum hard. It’s the first one, the most intense. Eren is unyielding as you hit your high and start to fall back down, catching on each layer of the ozone. You moan his name over and over, Eren, Eren, Eren. It’s all you can think to say. The only person you’d trust to catch you from this high, you fall foward. Hand gripping on the couch, you try to wiggle away but he won’t let you until he’s had his fix. 

When he pulls away, he takes in a deep breath. 

You lean back, catching sight of his face. It’s dripping down his chin. He reaches his hands to wipe it with his fingers, then sticks his hands up to you.

“Open your mouth up,” He says, pushing his fingers against your tongue “Or come down here and clean me up, maybe?” 

You widen your eyes. Curiosity getting the better of you, you wiggle down until you’re face level with him. He gives you a glance, encouraging you. Unsure, you push your tongue out against his neck, tracing down to his adams apple. He groans, voice vibrating. 

“Fuck yeah,” His hands comes around the back fo your neck “Just like that baby. That’s perfect,” 

Your memory reminds you. You repeat your actions, tongue dragging over his nec and chin, presses kisses and bites all along his jaw and neck. Eren moans above you appreciatively. The sound is pleasing. Hearing it over and over eggs you on to “clean” him up well until you reach his lips. 

The way he kisses you is sweet and gentle. He kisses your lips before peppering them on your face. 

“Fuck, look at what you’re doing to me.” 

“Making you sappy?” 

“Already was. I’m so hard for you right now, it’s fucking stupid,”

You let out a whine.

“Mm,” 

“Condoms upstairs,” 

“Don’t need ‘em. ‘s fine. Just give it to me how it is,” 

He shivers against your body. 

“I wanna cum just thinking about it,” 

“Don’t think about it and come fuck me,”

He laughs, handing coming down on your ass. 

“Get up,” 

You stand up and Eren follows suit. He gives you a quick peck before whispering in your ear. 

“Bend over the edge of the couch for me,” 

Shivering, you nod your head and walk beind the couch. You shoot Eren a look over your shoulder, seeing him ease his cock out of his boxers to give it a quick stroke. It’s just high enough that you struggle to get over it all the way. His eyes are piercing, watching you as you bend over like he asks. You push your ass towards him. 

“Like this?”  

“That’s perfect, angel. Stay like that,” 

You can hear him coming towards you. The weight of his body, bare chest against your spine is almost startling. He’s not crushing you, but you’re still completely pinned under underneath him. You wriggle your hips back, struggling to move.

His hand creeps lower and lower, finger slipping through your folds. He feels you up like that for a while, whistling. 

“You’re so wet,” He coos. His voice is smooth in your ear. You moan. He rests his chin just over your shoulder as you turn your head to kiss him. Slowly, he slips his middle finger inside. You’re surprised how little resistance there is really. The pad of his finger reaches far, rubs against your g-spot without second guessing it.

Your squealing makes him do it again. It’s a careful move. Your body responds to him eagerly as he slips another one, steady. Until he’s knuckle deep, stretching out unhurriedly. When it’s no longer a tight fit, he pulls away from you. 

Over you, he repositions. You can hear him spit in his hand behind you, the way his palms move against his cock. It’s all completely quiet besides that, lewd little noises that clue you into what he’s doing. Not seeing him makes the anticipation greater, leaves you vulnerable to whatever he wants to do. 

“Missed this pretty pussy so much,” He hisses, the head of his cock pushing past your folds until he’s snug against your hole. The muscle clenches “So fucking warm,” 

“Eren,” 

He pushes forward, a calculated push of hips. You both moan when he enters you. Just the tip, just the familiar curve of his cock. Your inside ache, deep inside. A place only Eren could reach, you think. He groans nto your ear. Your feet are barely touching the floor in this position, Hardly reaching the ground, toes holding you up. The back of the couch digs into your stomach. It’s puts a pressure on your lower belly, that Eren must feel.

All your muscles are tense. Tight. The tip of his cock rubs against your walls. He’s so hard. Intrusive. You clench around him again. Jaw agape, you moan as he pushes even further. 

“See that?” He whispers, against the shell of your ear. His hands grab yours, putting them behind your back till your defenseless “She remember me,” 

The moan you let out is entirely involuntary once it hits you he means your pussy. Your walls spasm around him. He chuckles at that. 

“That’s right. She loves me even if you don’t, doesn’t she?” Pulling his hips back until your empty, he fills you again. Harder this time. You choke on air “We made love tonight, didn’t we?” 

“Eren, shit” 

“I like when you say my name baby,” He says, another thrust “Like when your pretty pussy welcomes me home. It’s mine, isn’t it? Always has been. Bet he wasn’t making you feel like this, was he?” 

All at once, you feel Eren for what he’s worth. You feel his cock, the curve and the shape the weight as it drags inside of you. You feel the weight of his body, all the stretch in your thighs as he casts over you like a shadow. The gravelly way that he speaks reverberating in your bones. He’s fucking you like he’s all the way in the bottom of your stomach. 

Like a puzzle piece, Eren completes you on a level no one else in the world could. The way he talks to you reflects his, confidence not unearned. He’s cocky and awful, but his dick is doing this to you. Making your mouth fall open until your drooling underneath him. He answers every craving you ever had, that bone-deep sense of dissatisfaction that you’ve spent an entire year burying. 

Eren fucks you like he’s in love with you, and only you. His cock kisses your cervix, and it feels like the same kind done at weddings. A vow to you, a promise. It feels so fucking good when Eren fucks you. Nothing in the world could ever quite comparing to that satisfaction. Deep in your body, primal and hungry. 

“You were made for me,” He pants in your ear “Made just for me. No matter how far you go, I’ll find you. Remind you that. You get it now?” 

You whimper out loud. Yes comes out naturally. Eren kisses your shoulder blade before sinking his teeth into it.

“Knew you would, 

Eren fucks you the only way he’s ever known to. Deep and paced. You can’t say how he does it with anyone else, but with you it’s always been the same. Like he’s carving you out with his cock, the way you’ve always needed. You know you’re starting to be close again with each thrust. It’s a memory that your body welcomes. 

Eren knows what you need to cum, but he waits. Like always, he keeps at it until your walls are tremor. Until you’re just getting there, and you need the extra push to get you to your end. He keeps you at the end as he fucks you, whispers filthy things in your ear until you reach the point of desperation that you’re begging. 

“Please, Eren,” At your limit, pleaing “Please make me cum,” 

“There’s the magic word,” 

He snakes a hand around, reaching your clit and giving it a gentle rub. Everything happens at once. It’s perfect motion. Equilibrium. You can feel your knees start to give in as he gives it to you, the tension gently easing out. A carbonated soda, cracked open slowly to make way for the big finish. The release. Eren speaks to you again.

“Cum for me angel. Give it to me,”

Like a seismic wave, you cum hard on Eren’s cock just like he asked. He’s not far behind you, thrusting through the waves of pleasures. Your brain melts out of your ears completely, babbling to him to give you his cum too.

And he does in record time, shallowly rutting into you until you’re full of him, shooting deep. You feel your insides painted white, content at the feeling. 

When he pulls out of you, you feel it drip onto his hardwood floors. You’re unsure of what comes next, but he pulls you right into your arms. Into his chest, even with wobbly legs. 

“I’m not gonna let you go again,” He assures, more to himself than to you “You’re mine. Forever and always,” 

Against your better judgement, you give in. Just for now. Just for the time being.