#uncle!eren

Synopsis: Returning early from a grueling business trip to surprise you, eren arrives at your doorstep only to find you completely overwhelmed by an unexpected domestic disaster. Warning: Not proofread, mildly explicit sexual themes, suggestive language, sexual banter? Wc: 6k~

The elevator dinged on the eleventh floor, the metallic ping cutting sharply through the quiet of the hallway. Eren shifted the heavy canvas duffel bag higher on his shoulder and glanced down at the bouquet in his hand for what had to be the tenth time. The Juliet roses had somehow survived the grueling journey from the airport terminal all the way to your doorstep, looking vibrant and entirely out of place against the drab carpet.

The pastries, unfortunately, had not.

Well, mostly they hadn’t. One corner of the white bakery box had been crushed somewhere throughout the journey, the cardboard lid caved in just enough to ruin the neat arrangement inside. He’d stood outside the apartment building for a solid minute staring at it, debating whether to run back out and find another bakery, before deciding it wasn’t worth the hassle, because he wanted to see you as soon as possible. 

He stopped outside apartment 11B, a familiar, easy grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. You had absolutely no idea he was home.

The business trip wasn’t supposed to wrap up until monday afternoon. three long weeks of sterile airports, hotel rooms that all smelled vaguely of industrial detergent, and endless client meetings that blurred together into an exhausting monochrome. Every single night he’d found himself calculating the time difference before calling you, stretching the conversations out longer than he probably should have because just hearing your voice made those unfamiliar, lonely hotel rooms feel slightly less empty.

Then, yesterday evening, his final meeting had miraculously wrapped up hours ahead of schedule. He hadn’t even thought twice. He’d pulled out his phone, booked the first available  flight home, and deliberately ignored every temptation to send you a warning text. No 'I’m landing'. No 'I’m on my way'. No 'Open the door'. He wanted this. He wanted the raw, unscripted surprise of it. He wanted to watch the realization spread across your face in real time instead of reading a string of excited digital emojis while sitting thousands of feet in the air.

He could picture the scene in his head with absolute clarity. You’d answer the door looking half asleep because it was sunday morning. You’d be wearing that oversized, faded college tshirt you refused to throw away, your hair sticking up in every direction like a bird’s nest. You’d probably have on those ridiculous, overly bright fuzzy socks you always swore brought you good luck. You’d squint at him through the morning light, blink once to clear your vision, and then your entire face would light up. You’d throw yourself into his arms hard enough to nearly knock him backwards off the welcome mat, call him a reckless idiot for not warning you, and complain that he’d almost given you a heart attack before pulling him in for a desperate kiss.

It was a perfect picture.

Balancing the crushed bakery box beneath one arm and gripping the bouquet, he gave the door a sharp, confident rap.

Silence.

He waited a second, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as the hallway air conditioning hummed softly overhead. Maybe you were sleeping in. He knocked again, a little louder this time, his knuckles hitting the wood with a dull thud.

“…Coming!”

Your voice. It was definitely your voice, ringing out from down the hall. But there was something wrong with it. You sounded… completely frazzled. Breathless, like you’d just sprinted the entire length of the apartment before managing to reach the deadbolt.

Then another sound pierced the barrier of the heavy oak door. A baby crying. Loudly. Not the distant, muffled wail of a neighbor’s infant somewhere down the hall, but something agonizingly close. Very close. There was a sharp thud from inside, followed instantly by what sounded suspiciously like a plastic toy clattering hard against the kitchen tile. Then came another voice...higher pitched, trembling, and unmistakably panicked.

Eren frowned, the easy grin sliding right off his face. What the hell was going on in there?

His confusion deepened as the lock clicked and the heavy brass handle turned. The door swung open, and every single expectation he’d carefully carried all the way home shattered into a million pieces in less than a second.

You stood in the doorway with a somewhat eleven-month-old baby balanced awkwardly and heavily on your hip. The infant was an absolute hurricane of distress, his tiny face gone completely crimson from screaming, fat tears streaming down his cheeks so fast they completely soaked the collar of his little blue bodysuit. His small fists were clenched so tight his knuckles looked stark white, and every frantic sob was interrupted by a violent hiccup before another louder, piercing wail tore from his throat. Your arm shifted instinctively beneath his heavy weight, bouncing him up and down in a practiced, rhythmic motion without a single ounce of conscious thought, the kind of movement born from hours of endless pacing.

Your appearance was a shock to the system. Your hair looked like you’d dragged your sweaty fingers through it over and over again until it had simply surrendered, wisps clinging damply to your forehead and escaping from a lopsided, fraying ponytail that looked like it was seconds away from unraveling entirely. There was a crusty, greenish smear of dried baby food stamped right across the front of your tshirt. You were litrerally  wearing  mismatched socks. 

And your eyes… eren’s chest tightened instantly at the sight of them. They looked glossy. Not from tears of joy, and certainly not from laughter. Just… bone deep tired. The exhausted, hollow look of someone who was holding their entire world together by sheer willpower alone, terrified that one single minor inconvenience might be enough to make the whole fragile structure collapse.

Clinging desperately to your leg stood a little girl, maybe seven years old, with messy pigtails coming undone and her arms crossed so tightly across her small chest that they practically disappeared into her sweater. She looked up past you, her lower lip trembling violently. Then, without a shred of warning, fresh tears spilled over her lashes as she burst into a fresh round of theatrical, heartbreaking sobbing.

“I WANT MY MOM!” she wailed, burying her face into the side of your thigh.

Your left eye twitched. A muscle in your jaw ticked.

“…Hi....” you breathed out, the word exhausted and hanging limply in the air.

Eren blinked, his brain desperately trying to reboot. “…Hi.”

For a long, surreal moment, neither of you moved an inch. The baby shrieked louder, sensing a new audience. The little girl continued her heartbroken drama through rhythmic, hiccupping gasps. Somewhere deep in the apartment, an overly cheerful children’s cartoon blasted from a television set, its bright, obnoxious theme song clashing almost comically with the absolute chaos unfolding right on the threshold.

Eren’s eyes darted frantically from the wailing baby in your arms, down to the little girl clutching your leg, and finally back up to your pale, drawn face. Confusion lasted for barely a heartbeat before it was entirely wiped out by a wave of sharp, protective concern. You didn’t just look tired; you looked completely drained. It was the heavy, suffocating kind of exhaustion that settled permanently into your posture, the hollows under your eyes, and the way your shoulders seemed to slump beneath a crushing weight you shouldn’t have been carrying alone.

His grip on the bouquet loosened, the stems slipping slightly in his palm. The bright, joyful smile he’d worn all the way up the hallway vanished, replaced by lines of deep worry.

“…Hey,” he said quietly, his voice dropping an octave as his dark brows drew together, desperately searching your face for any anchor of reality. “Are you okay?”

His voice softened instinctively, thick with a sudden, overwhelming ache for whatever mess you had been quietly enduring while he was thousands of miles away.

“What happened?”

You stared at him for two whole seconds, your gaze locking onto his face as if you were trying to convince yourself that a mirage wasn’t standing in your doorway. Then your expression completely crumbled, the tight, rigid mask of endurance shattering into pieces.

“Oh my god” you gasped, making a sound that hovered somewhere painfully between a ragged sob and a bone deep groan. “Eren.”

“You're  home,” you said softly, a breathless realization.

“I am.”

Right on cue, the baby let out another ear splitting shriek, a fresh wave of high-pitched misery vibrating down the hallway.

You squeezed your eyes shut, pinching the bridge of your nose as if you could physically block out the noise. “I’m so happy you’re here.”

Eren raised an eyebrow, a slight, sympathetic curve touching his lips despite the pandemonium. “Uh, baby… you don’t look happy.”

“I’m not.”

“…”

“I mean, I am!”

“…”

“I’m just—”

The baby shrieked directly into your ear, cutting you off completely.

“I’M HAVING THE WORST SUNDAY OF MY LIFE!” you finally snapped, throwing your head back against the wall in sheer, unadulterated defeat.

Eren didn’t even hesitate. Instinct took over before his brain could fully process the logistics of the room. With a quick, fluid motion, he dropped his heavy canvas duffel bag just inside the threshold, set the crushed bakery box and the delicate Juliet roses carefully down on the narrow entry table, and clicked the front door shut behind him to lock out the curious stares of the hallway. He stepped forward, bridging the gap between chaos and relief, and gently reached his hands toward the frantic, squirming infant.

“Can I?” he asked, his voice low and steady.

You looked ready to hand over your entire soul, your hands practically thrusting the crying baby into his grasp. “Please, take him. Please”

The second the heavy, warm weight left your arms, your shoulders visibly sagged several inches, your posture collapsing like a marionette whose strings had just been cut. It looked and felt like you had just been relieved of carrying fifty pounds instead of twenty. You slid backward until your spine hit the hallway wall, letting out a long, shuddering breath.

“Oh my god” you whispered, pressing the palms of your hands against your thighs. “My arms. They’re numb. I can’t even feel my fingers.”

Eren didn’t waste a second adjusting, his hands finding a familiar rhythm as he scooped the baby naturally against his broad shoulder, supporting his head and bottom with practiced ease. The infant let out another angry, red faced shriek, but eren didn’t flinch. He just started pacing the small expanse of the entryway, bouncing him once, twice, in a slow, hypnotic cadence.

“Hey buddy” eren murmured, his voice rumbling deep against the baby’s chest, a grounding vibration amidst the noise. “That’s a lot of noise for a Sunday morning, don’t ya think?”

Eren kept bouncing the baby in that steady, unhurried rhythm, one big hand splayed across the small of his back. The shrieking gradually lost some of its edge, turning into wet, hiccupping sobs against the collar of eren’s travel wrinkled shirt.

“There we go,” he murmured, low enough that it almost blended with the cartoon still blaring from the living room. “Just needed a different set of arms, huh?”

You stayed slumped against the wall, watching him like he was performing some quiet miracle. The numbness in your arms was starting to fade into a dull, heavy ache. You flexed your fingers once, twice, then let them drop.

The little girl, Maya had stopped wailing the second the baby was no longer in your arms. She was still glued to your leg though, peering up at Eren with wet, suspicious eyes.

Eren glanced down at her and offered a soft, careful smile. “Hey, what's your name kiddo?”

She didn’t answer. Just tightened her grip on your sweatpants.

You exhaled and finally pushed off the wall. “Her name’s Maya. The human siren is Leo. They’re… my cousin’s kids.”

Eren’s eyebrows lifted a fraction, but he kept the gentle bounce going. “Your cousin’s?”

“ Mhm [cousin's name].  She showed up two hours ago.” You dragged a hand down your face. “No warning. Just knocked, handed them over, and said she had a million errands and wanted actual time with her husband for once. Said she’d be back tonight. Then she was gone.”

You looked at the mess of the entryway, the smear of green baby food drying stiff on your shirt, the way Maya’s pigtails were half undone and sticky with what you hoped was only juice.

“I wanted to sleep in” you said, quieter. “Work’s been… a lot. I was going to do nothing today. Absolutely nothing. And instead I’ve been pacing with a screaming baby while trying to keep a seven year old from melting down every five minutes.”

Leo let out one last watery whimper and then, miraculously, quieted against eren’s shoulder. His tiny fist opened and closed against the fabric.

Eren’s free hand came up to rest lightly on the back of the baby’s head. “You hate this.”

It wasn’t a question.

“I don’t hate them...” you muttered. “I just… don’t have the patience. Or the energy. Or any idea what I’m doing. He wouldn’t stop crying no matter what I tried, and then she started because he was, and it just—” You gestured vaguely at the entire apartment. “Everything’s sticky. I’ve stepped on three different toys. I think I sat on a crayon earlier.”

Maya tugged on your pant leg. “Auntie, I’m hungry.”

You closed your eyes for half a second. “I know, baby. I was about to figure that out when—”

You looked at Eren again. Really looked. The duffel bag on the floor. The slightly crushed bakery box on the entry table. The roses, still somehow perfect.

“You’re home early” you said, softer.

“Meeting finished yesterday.” He shifted Leo a little higher, the baby’s head now tucked under his chin like he’d done this a hundred times. “Caught the first flight I could. Wanted to surprise you.”

A small, tired laugh escaped you. “Mission accomplished”

Eren’s mouth curved. He took a step closer, careful not to jostle the now-quiet baby, and leaned in just enough that his voice dropped for only you.

“Missed you.”

 Just then maya made a sharp, disgusted noise from somewhere near your knee.

“Eww Gross.”

You both froze.

Eren blinked, then glanced down at her. Maya was staring at the two of you with pure seven year old judgment, nose wrinkled.

You pressed your lips together. “She’s… very vocal about that sort of thing.”

Eren’s eyes warmed with quiet amusement, but he straightened a little, giving the space back. “Noted.”

He nodded toward the living room, where the cartoon theme song had looped for what felt like the tenth time. “How about I take this little guy and see if I can get him settled while you figure out food for Maya? Or I can handle both if you want five minutes to breathe.”

You stared at him. The offer was so simple. So calm. After two hours of feeling like you were drowning in someone else’s chaos, it landed harder than it should have.

“…You sure?”

“I’m good with kids, baby” he said, already turning toward the living room with Leo still tucked securely against him. “Go wash your face. Change your shirt. I’ll handle them for ten minutes.”

Maya trailed after him a few steps, still eyeing him warily, then looked back at you.

“Is he your boyfriend?”

“Yes.”

She considered this, then declared, loud enough for the whole apartment to hear, “He’s weird.”

Eren didn’t even turn around. “I’ve been called worse.”

You watched them disappear into the living room, eren already talking quietly to Leo, maya hovering like a tiny bodyguard and felt something in your chest loosen for the first time since the doorbell rang two hours ago.

The roses on the table still looked ridiculous against the chaos.

You reached out and touched one petal, you felt giddy that he didnt forget to buy flowers for you, you quickly glanced in the living room and then headed toward the bathroom before Maya could decide that breathing the same air as eren counted as gross too.

You washed your face with cold water until the hollow, stretched feeling behind your eyes eased a little. You changed into a clean tshirt, dragged a brush through your hair, and even managed to put on matching socks. When you stepped back into the living room, the volume on the cartoon had been lowered and leo was sitting on the rug between eren’s knees, gumming a soft silicone teething ring while Eren held a second one just out of reach. Every time Leo stretched for it and missed, a short, surprised giggle burst out of him.

Maya sat on the couch with a juice box, legs swinging, watching the two of them like she was still conducting a background check.

Eren looked up when you appeared. His eyes softened in that familiar way that always made your chest feel a little too full. “Feeling human again?”

“Closer,” you said, dropping onto the couch beside Maya. “Thank you for that”

He shrugged one shoulder, still focused on Leo. “He’s easier once he figures out you’re not going to put him down the second he makes a noise. Want me to show you the bounce that actually works for him?”

You blinked. “There’s a specific bounce?”

“There’s always a specific bounce.” He stood in one smooth motion, scooped Leo up with the same easy confidence as before, and demonstrated, slow side to side sway, a gentle dip every third step, nothing rushed. Leo’s eyelids fluttered almost immediately. “Like this. Not too fast. He’s not a cocktail shaker.”

You watched carefully, then took the baby when Eren offered him. The motion felt awkward at first, your arms still remembered the earlier numbness, but Leo didn’t protest. After a minute of copying the rhythm, his head dropped against your shoulder with a soft, trusting sigh.

Maya leaned in and stage-whispered, “You’re doing it right now.”

“Thanks for the professional evaluation,” you muttered.

Eren’s mouth tipped up. He reached over without thinking and tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear. The touch was light, familiar, the kind of small intimacy that usually made you lean in.

Maya made a sharp face. “Gross!”

Eren dropped his hand, completely unbothered. “My bad.”

The morning unfolded in small, ordinary pieces after that. You and Eren teamed breakfast in the kitchen, scrambled eggs and toast for Maya, a carefully mashed banana mixed with a little plain yogurt for leo that somehow ended up half on his face and half on your clean sleeve again. Eren stood close behind you at the counter while you stirred, one hand resting lightly at your waist as he reached past you for a spoon. His chest brushed your back for a second longer than necessary.

You felt him lean down, mouth near your ear, the start of something soft—

Maya’s voice cut through from the living room doorway. “Why are you standing so close? That’s weird.”

Eren’s forehead rested against the back of your head for half a second in silent defeat before he straightened. “Just helping with the banana situation.”

“Uh huh” She did not sound convincedd

You plated Maya’s toast into the exact triangle shapes she demanded while Eren wiped Leo’s cheeks with the corner of a dish towel, murmuring nonsense that made the baby smack his sticky hands against Eren’s jaw. The domesticity of it settled over you strangely, two people moving around the same small kitchen, passing things without asking, cleaning up the same messes. It felt like something you could get used to. 

By late morning the living room looked like a toy store had detonated. Maya had decided Eren was acceptable enough to demand he build a fort with every couch cushion and blanket she could drag over. Leo crawled between the pillars, occasionally pulling himself up on Eren’s knee only to plop back down with an indignant noise that made both of you laugh. You sat cross legged on the floor inside the fort with them, learning which soft toys Leo was allowed to put in his mouth and which ones Maya insisted were “just for big kids, auntie, don’t let him.”

Eren stretched out on his side beside you, propping his head on one hand while Leo used his stomach as a climbing structure. At one point he reached across the small space and traced the edge of your jaw with his thumb, eyes warm.

“Missed this face” he said quietly.

Maya’s head popped up from behind a pillow wall like a prairie dog. “Eww! Stop touching her face. That’s gross.”

Eren’s hand stilled, then dropped. He gave you a look that said 'we will try again later' and went back to helping Maya arrange the fort’s “secret tunnel.”

Around noon Leo finally went down for a real nap in the pack and play your cousin had left. Maya lasted another twenty minutes of quiet coloring at the coffee table before her eyes started drifting. You carried her to the far end of the couch and covered her with the softest throw you owned. She mumbled something about not being tired and then was out within a minute, one arm flung over her face.

The apartment went almost silent.

You stood in the doorway of the living room, staring at the two sleeping kids, and felt the tension in your shoulders ease for the first time all day. Eren came up behind you, close enough that you could feel the heat of him through your tshirt. His hands settled lightly on your hips.

“You did good,” he said against your hair.

You turned in the circle of his arms. He was looking at you the way he always did when he was proud of something you didn’t think counted...quiet, steady, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“I mostly just didn’t drop anyone”

“That’s the main rule.” His gaze dropped to your mouth. He leaned in slowly, one hand sliding up to the side of your neck—

A soft, wet snuffle came from leo. Then a thin, questioning cry.

Eren’s forehead dropped against yours with a quiet groan. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

You laughed under your breath, already stepping back. “I’ll get him. You earned the five minutes of silence.”

“I was this close” he muttered, but he was smiling as he went to check on Maya instead.

The rest of the afternoon moved the same way...slow, messy, strangely peaceful. Eren taught you how to distract Leo when he started fussing by giving him a wooden spoon and a plastic bowl to bang on; the resulting percussion solo was terrible and perfect. You discovered Maya would eat almost anything if you let her “help” stir it first, so the two of you stood at the stove while she solemnly supervised the pasta, Eren’s hand occasionally finding the small of your back when she wasn’t looking. Every time his fingers lingered a second too long, or when he pressed a quick kiss to your temple while reaching for a colander, Maya would announce “I can feel you being gross” without even turning around.

Late afternoon light turned the living room gold. Leo was content on a blanket with a stack of soft toys, chewing the corner of one with great concentration. Maya had decided Eren needed a full plot summary of her favorite cartoon and was delivering it with absolute seriousness while he nodded at all the right places, occasionally asking clarifying questions that made her light up.

You stood in the kitchen doorway watching them, heart unexpectedly full. Eren glanced up, caught you looking, and gave you that soft, private smile that always made the rest of the world feel a little farther away. He mouthed 'come here'.

You walked over. He reached for your hand under the cover of the coffee table, thumb stroking over your knuckles. Maya was mid-sentence about a talking dog when she paused, narrowed her eyes at your joined hands, and declared flatly:

“You’re being gross again!”

Neither of you bothered denying it.

Eren simply squeezed your fingers once, a quiet promise for later, and went back to listening to Maya’s very important cartoon briefing like it was the most critical meeting of his life. You stayed right there beside him, shoulder to shoulder, the two of you holding down the fort together while the golden light faded and the day you had been dreading kept turning, somehow, into one of the warmest sundays you could remember.

Maya was still mid-sentence about the talking dog’s secret mission when she suddenly stopped. The silence stretched for a beat, long enough that eren glanced over to make sure she hadn’t fallen asleep sitting up. Instead she was staring at the two of you with the focused intensity of someone who had just remembered she had more important questions than cartoon plot points.

She shifted on the couch, tucking her legs underneath her, and pointed a slightly sticky finger between you and Eren.

“How long have you been boyfriend and girlfriend?”

Eren didn’t miss a beat. He kept his hand loosely linked with yours under the edge of the coffee table, thumb still moving in that slow, absent stroke across your knuckles. “Almost two years.”

Maya’s eyes narrowed like she was doing mental math. “That’s a long time.”

“It is” he agreed easily.

She tilted her head, studying him the way she might study a new toy she wasn’t sure she trusted yet. “Why are you dating Auntie?”

You felt heat crawl up the back of your neck. “Maya—”

But Eren only smiled, the soft one that always made the corners of his eyes crease. He looked at you first, like he was checking that you were okay with him answering, then turned back to her.

“Because she’s my favorite person” he said, simple and steady. “She makes ordinary days feel better. She laughs at my bad jokes. She’s patient when I’m grumpy after long trips. And when she’s around, everything just... fits.” He gave your hand a quiet squeeze. “That’s why.”

Maya considered this with the gravity of a seven year old judge. “Even when she’s messy and has baby food on her shirt?”

“Especially then.” eren grinned while noddin

You ducked your head, a small, helpless smile tugging at your mouth. Eren’s thumb brushed over your knuckles again, warm and sure.

Maya wasn’t finished. She scooted a little closer on the couch, voice dropping into something almost conspiratorial. “Do you love her?”

“Yes.”

No hesitation. No careful phrasing. Just the single word, spoken like it was the most obvious fact in the room.

Your stomach flipped. You stared very hard at Leo, who was currently trying to fit an entire soft toy into his mouth, because looking at Eren felt suddenly dangerous.

Maya nodded once, as if that answer had passed some internal test. Then she asked the question that made your ears go hot.

“Are you gonna marry her?”

The air in the living room seemed to thin. You felt your shoulders tense, a shy, fluttery feeling blooming low in your chest. Marriage. The word itself made your face warm. You kept your eyes on Leo’s little fists, pretending that he was the most fascinating thing you’d ever seen.

Eren didn’t rush. He glanced at you again, checking, always checking before he answered her with the same calm honesty he’d given every other question.

“I’d like to" he said quietly. “When the timing is right. When we’re both ready. I want to build a life with her. A real one. Not just weekends and phone calls between trips.” His voice stayed even, warm, completely steady. “So yes. That’s the plan. Someday.”

You could feel your pulse in your throat. The shy heat in your cheeks refused to fade. Eren’s fingers tightened gently around yours, a silent 'I’ve got you'

Maya’s eyes went wide. She sat up straighter, suddenly looking very serious.

“You can’t just marry her!”

Eren raised an eyebrow, amused. “No?”

“You need my permission.” She crossed her arms, chin lifted. “I’m her niece. That means I’m in charge of important stuff. You have to ask me first.”

You finally looked up, half-laughing, half mortified. “Maya—”

But Eren was already nodding like this was the most reasonable demand in the world. He shifted on the floor so he was facing her more fully, still keeping your hand in his.

“Alright,” he said. “Official request, then. Maya… may I have your permission to marry your aunt someday? When she’s ready, and when I’ve proven I’m good enough for her?”

Maya studied him for a long moment. She glanced at you, then back at him, clearly weighing the responsibility of her new role. Finally she held up one small finger.

“You have to keep making her laugh.”

“Deal.”

“And you have to help with the dishes even when it’s her turn.”

“Already do.”

“And you can’t be gross in front of me too much.”

Eren’s mouth twitched. “I’ll do my best.”

Maya narrowed her eyes one last time, then gave a short, decisive nod. “Okay! You can have permission. But I’m watching you.”

“Understood.” He offered her his free hand. She shook it with great ceremony, sticky fingers and all.

Only then did Eren look back at you. The soft pride in his eyes made the shy heat in your face flare hotter. He leaned in just enough to murmur, low enough that only you could hear,

“You okay?”

You managed a tiny nod, still too flustered to trust your voice. He smiled like he understood completely, then pressed the briefest kiss to the back of your hand, quick enough that Maya only caught the end of it.

She wrinkled her nose on cue. “That was almost gross.”

“Almost,” Eren agreed, completely unrepentant.

Leo chose that moment to abandon the toys and start crawling toward Eren’s knee with determined little grunts. Maya immediately claimed the role of supervisor again, launching into a new set of rules about how “the baby” was allowed to sit during important conversations. The marriage talk dissolved back into the ordinary chaos of the afternoon, but the shy warmth in your chest stayed, quiet and glowing, long after Maya had moved on.

Eren never let go of your hand. Not even when Leo climbed into his lap and started pulling at his shirt collar. Not even when Maya demanded he repeat the entire cartoon summary from the beginning so she could make sure he had paid proper attention.

He just stayed right there beside you on the floor, shoulder against yours, answering every new question with the same calm patience, while the golden light kept fading and the day kept feeling, somehow, more and more like the kind of ordinary forever you hadn’t realized you wanted.

The knock came just as the last of the afternoon light was turning soft and pink through the windows. Maya was in the middle of explaining why the fort needed a second secret entrance when the sound cut through the apartment. Leo, who had been contentedly chewing on the collar of Eren’s shirt, lifted his head with a curious little noise and blinked toward the door.

You wiped your hands on your thighs and stood. Eren glanced at you, then at the door, and gave a small, knowing nod as he shifted leo higher on his hip.

Your cousin stood on the other side looking almost sheepish, hair a little windswept, arms already half outstretched. “I am so so sorry!” she said the moment the door opened. “Traffic was a nightmare and then the dry cleaner closed early and the pharmacy line—” She stopped mid apology, taking in the full scene: the half-collapsed cushion fort, the toys scattered across the rug like confetti, leo happily drooling on Eren’s shoulder, Maya still gripping a pillow like a shield. A slow, surprised smile spread across her face. “Ohhh.. You… actually survived.”

“We did more than survive” you said, and the truth of it settled warm in your chest. Somewhere between the sticky banana yogurt and the very serious marriage negotiation, the day had stopped feeling like a sentence.

Maya launched herself at her mother with a dramatic sigh. “Mommy! Auntie’s boyfriend is weird but he builds good forts. And he asked permission to marry her. I said yes but I’m still watching him.”

Your cousin’s eyebrows shot up. Eren only smiled, calm and unbothered, and carefully transferred Leo into her waiting arms. The baby immediately grabbed a fistful of her hair and babbled something that sounded suspiciously like a protest about leaving the nice warm shoulder he’d claimed.

You helped gather the bag of toys, the half empty juice boxes, the little blue cardigan Maya had discarded hours ago. Maya hugged your legs hard before she left, cheek pressed to your thigh, then pointed a stern finger at Eren.

“Remember, dishes. And not too much gross stuff.”

“Yes, ma’am” he said solemnly, one hand lifted in a mock scout’s honor.

The door clicked shut. The deadbolt slid home under Eren’s hand. The sudden quiet felt enormous almost physical, like the air itself had expanded.

You stood in the entryway for a long moment, staring at the empty space where the kids had been. The apartment looked different without them. Larger. Softer. A little too still. A small, unexpected ache settled under your ribs, quiet but real.

“I… actually had fun” you admitted, voice low. “By the end. You made it fun.”

Eren turned from the door. The second the words left your mouth he crossed the short distance in two strides and pulled you in.

The kiss was not careful. It was three weeks of sterile hotel rooms that all smelled like industrial detergent, of calculating time zones before every call, of falling asleep to the sound of your voice on speaker and waking up reaching for someone who wasn’t there. His mouth claimed yours like he’d been starving for it, deep, hungry, a low sound vibrating in his chest as his hands framed your face. His thumbs stroked over your cheeks, grounding himself in the warmth of your skin, the realness of you. You melted into him immediately, fingers curling tight into the front of his travel wrinkled shirt, breathing in the familiar scent of his cologne mixed with the faint baby powder smell that still clung to both of you.

When he finally pulled back it was only far enough to rest his forehead against yours, breathing a little harder.

“Missed you” he said, voice rough, almost scraped raw. “Every single night. It felt like longer than three weeks.”

You smiled against his mouth, still a little dazed. “Thank you eren. For today. You came straight from an exhausting trip and still… handled everything. Taught me. Made it feel easy instead of impossible.”

Eren’s lips curved into something a little cocky. He nipped lightly at your bottom lip, eyes dark with leftover hunger. “What can I say? I’m excellent under pressure. And with kids. And with you.” His hands slid down to your waist, squeezing possessively. “You’re welcome for the full service boyfriend experience. Didn’t even charge overtime.”

You laughed, soft and a little shy, then grew quieter. The ache from earlier hadn’t completely left. You traced the open collar of his shirt with one finger, not quite meeting his eyes.

“I think I might’ve… gotten a little baby fever” you admitted shyly. “Just a little. Watching you with them. The way you held leo. The way maya listened to you. It was—”

You didn’t even  get to finish.

Eren made a low, rough sound in his throat and kissed you again. hotter this time, deeper, the kind of kiss that carried every unanswered late night phone call and every morning he’d woken up alone in a too big hotel bed. One hand slid up your back, pressing you flush against the hard line of his body; the other gripped your hip hard, fingers digging in with open hunger. He walked you backward until your shoulders met the wall with a soft thud, mouth never leaving yours. His tongue brushed against yours, slow and filthy, tasting you like he planned to memorize every detail all over again.

His palm slid lower, bold and possessive, squeezing the curve of your ass through your leggings before dragging slowly up under the hem of your tshirt. Warm, slightly calloused skin on the bare skin of your waist. You gasped into the kiss and he took the chance to deepen it further, crowding closer until there was no space left between you, chest to chest, hips aligned, the unmistakable hard length of him pressing against your lower stomach.

He broke the kiss only to trail his mouth along your jaw, teeth grazing, voice dark and rough against the shell of your ear.

“Damn” he murmured, thumb stroking the soft skin just above the waistband of your leggings in slow, deliberate circles. “Baby fever, huh?” His other hand slipped fully under your shirt, palm spanning the small of your back, pulling you even tighter against the thick ridge in his jeans.

He rolled his hips once, deliberate, letting you feel exactly how affected he was. A quiet, hungry sound escaped him when you shivered.

“Guess we’d better do something about that then” he said against your mouth, already kissing you again, slower now but deeper, dirtier, one hand sliding higher under your shirt to brush the underside of your breast. His fingers flexed, greedy. “What do you say, we get rid of it the fun way?"

His teeth caught your lower lip and tugged, voice dropping into something low and wicked.