after returning from a much needed break, y/n l/n decides to let loose for once. being invited to a concert isn't what she planned, but she goes for it. she doesn't expect to be mesmerized by the leader singer, who remains anonymous, that also takes...
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miami, florida friday, august 12th 8:27 a.m.
——eren's pov——
I'm up before her by a long shot. Maybe a good two hours. And all I've been doing is laying in place in bed while she sleeps peacefully next to me. We slept in different directions, with our backs facing each other. But when I woke up, she and I were facing each other. It was like waking up and being at heaven's gates.
I had sex with Y/n.
And it was amazing.
She was under me while I fucked her and I watched her moan, cry, and scream. She kissed me. She put her hands on me first. I felt her around me.
Just thinking about it makes me giddy and I've been replaying it in my head for hours on end. Thinking about it since I've been up. Thinking about it before we went to sleep.
Her chest rises and falls with each humble breath she breathes. I have the urge to pull her close to me because I have this sudden feeling to protect her. Maybe it's just because we fucked? But I don't know how she would react if I spooned her.
So that means she isn't seeing Jean. And that I probably broke my phone for nothing. I got a new one the next day, but still. She told him no. Thank fucking god because I don't know what I would've done. She came here and we fucked. She didn't fuck Jean. She chose ME.
I grin and get up from the bed. Y/n moves in the bed and throws the blanket off of her. She groans under the breath and tucks her hands under her head. She's wearing my clothes and it fills me with so much pride. My boxers and a random shirt I found. I watch her for a moment before walking out the room.
I'm not going to tell her to get out when we wakes up. Instead, I'm thinking of cooking for her. The fridge is stocked with food because I just got it delivered yesterday. I pull out eggs and milk with a few other ingredients and return to the counter.
Then, I got to one of my drawers and pull out my waffle maker. The recipe is pretty easy because my mom would always teach me when to cook when dad wasn't home. It was kind of our only "bonding" time. When dad left, it was just us and we could do anything we could put our minds to. I make a mental note to call my mom today.
I mix the batter together and put chocolate chips in them. I pour some batter in the waffle-maker and lean against the counter and wait for them to finish cooking.
While they're cooking, I hear foot steps against the floor. Soon after, she's coming out my room running a hand through her hair. She's blinking repeatedly to wake herself up.
"What are you making ?" She says mid-yawn. Y/n sits at my island like she's lives here and she's comfortable here. I like it.
I pop open the waffle maker and put four pancakes on a plate and put more batter into the maker. "Waffles. I hope you're hungry."
I pour syrup and put a dollop of whip cream on the side. Her eyes light up when I place the fork right next to her plate and scoot it towards her. She stabs the waffles with the fork and pops a bite into her mouth. She groans and closes her eyes.
It sounds just like her last night.
"Holy shit Eren!" she says while dipping her food into the syrup.
"You like?" I ask and smile. She deserves all the smiles in the world right now.
She nods and continues eating. I take the remaining waffles out and place them on my own plate. I put the same toppings as hers on my plate (but I do put extra whipped cream on mine).
We eat together and manage to have small conversations in between them. Just generic stuff like "what are you doing today?" or "how's school going?"
Things that parents would ask. That makes me cringe because it feels odd asking these simple questions after we fucked last night. I want to ask her deeper questions.
"Do you regret last night?"
"Are we doing this again?"
"Did you enjoy it?"
"Are things going to be awkward between us now?"
But I don't ask her any of those questions. I know all my answers.
No, I don't regret it. I even want more.
I hope we are doing this again.
I fucking enjoyed it.
I don't want things to be awkward at all.
We finish and I grab her plate and head to the sink. I feel her eyes drilling holes into every inch of my body from her stare. I'm smiling like a fucking dumbass right now. I try to turn around quickly and manage to get a small look at her look away when she sees me turn.
"I should probably go Eren," she says. Her voice is low like usual. Like in class.
Fuck.
She's back to the "normal" Y/n that I know. Maybe she thinks this is all awkward. I want to ask her a million questions. Tell her to stay. Tell her to sit down so we can talk.
What if she regrets everything and doesn't want to be associated with me anymore?
My life is filled with "what ifs" right now and I hate it. I can not force to stay because that would be creepy and demanding. I can't beg her to stay because it looks bad on my part and makes me look stupid.
"Okay. Do you want me to take you home?"
She walks out of my bedroom with her hoodie on and shorts. Her bra is in her hand along with her underwear. Y/n's cheeks are a red tint and she's breathing heavily.
She's still wearing my boxers.
A gulp travels down her throat while she shakes her head no. "I came here in my car. Thank you though."
Y/n walks to my door quickly and grabs the knob. "Thank you for last night." She looks at me and opens the door. She's a foot out before I call to her.
"Anytime. Keep my boxers and text me when you get home." I manage to wink at her before she's out the door completely. I could've sworn I saw a grin on her face when I said that to her.
I turn the water off and the apartment goes silent. I sigh and dry my hands off. Her smell still lingers around the house. Sweet candy that melts on your tongue.
It's addictive. Just like her.
And I don't find myself sleeping anytime soon because I want her more and more now. I still feel her everywhere. My hands, my lips, and on the top of my tongue.
They say that the aftermath of an event is always the worst because it hits you the hardest. Whoever came up with that was right. The aftermath is the worse.
I want to feel her in my hands. I want her breath against my skin and her hands raking their way throughout my hair. She's the only person to do that. So, I certainly don't find myself cutting my hair anytime soon.
I want to know what she's thinking. Is she thinking about me? Or the next upcoming test she has to take?
Band practice leaves my mind and it only revolves around one person. Y/n. There are so many wants I want right now and they all have something to do with her. Fuck. I'm tempted to run down the hall and tell her to come back.
