#I love Zeke's wide smiles!

[jjkeremika]

Here to Forever

description: date nights with the AoT men (plus historia lol) <3

pairing: Eren, Levi, Reiner, Armin, Porco, Erwin, Jean, Zeke, Historia, all x (fem!) reader

like A LITTLE nsfw/smutty

Eren

Eren and you almost always went to the movie theaters--your man loves a good trip to the movies. Sometimes you would suggest a meal before, but he was always reluctant, complaining that then he'd be too full to eat the movie snacks. You always rolled your eyes with a large smile on your face, usually caving.

Movie choice alternated each time, you often opting for comedies and animations while Eren advocated for actions and sci-fi's. He liked to sit in the back, able to view the entire screen, usually directly under the speaker so no one could hear your hushed whispers and hearty breaths.

Although you enjoyed a good movie now and then, Eren's eyes were fixed to the screen, absorbed in the film that he wouldn't even notice when you asked for the candy.

So you always enjoyed the bad movies the most, because Eren's attention was on you; and the fact that you had to be very, very quiet while his hands groped your breasts, while they traveled to your bottoms, turned you both on. Sometimes he'd pull you onto his lap, his fingers intimately gracing the sensitive spot between your legs as he nibbled at your earlobe, sucked on your neck. You kept going back, because you've only been asked to leave once.

Levi (age gap)

Levi didn't talk a whole ton, but he liked listening to you. He fervently believed you were smarter than him, always spouting interesting ideas and bringing up counterpoints. And you were so damn kind to everyone, always considerate, and he genuinely did not give a damn about anyone.

Except you. He cared an awful lot about you. Having repeatedly been kicked down by life (he didn't really talk about that), born into a shitty lot in life, had the rug pulled out from under him and lost everything, he built wall after wall and thought he'd lost access to his emotions. Then he found you. And somehow your naivety and wide-eyed view reinvigorated something deep inside.

Although relatively stoic and unemotional in public and rarely voiced his positive opinions with friends, Levi was, in some sense, rather vulnerable when alone with you. He was quite open about his infatuation with you in private; his eyes frequently roaming your body, his mouth pressing hundreds of kisses to your skin.

Then there was the vulnerability that manifested in unique ways. The immense desire to have you, the fiery need to have you on your knees, taking him, all of him, feeling him so deeply it'll last for hours, craving him so deeply to last for days. After he was satisfied with the number of times you'd called his name, begged for more, he'd take the best care of you, wrapping you in his softest sweatpants and giving you the warmest kisses and making you both the most delicious food.

So while most couple's dates consisted of the date then sex, yours was reversed, always working up an appetite.

Reiner

Reiner's dates, a generous term, were always spontaneous activities: playing soccer at midnight, hiking some oh it's only a few miles trails, biking or rollerblading around the city. Even though the physical activity was exhausting and sometimes even daunting, Reiner's presence made it infinitely better.

He'd carry everything, never letting you carry any bags (not that you'd complain). He'd offer various snacks and water, offer to frequently slow the pace or stop and admire the surroundings. Uh, why are you looking at me like that? you'd ask, an eyebrow raised. Hm? I told you. I'm admiring my surroundings, he'd answer, the sunlight reflecting off his brilliant smile.

Hiking was the most frequent activity during nice weather, which, you couldn't deny, definitely had its perks. During higher altitude breaks with clearings in the trees, or at the peak of the climb, when the view was the most clear and pristine and the sunlight was basking on you.

The view was always worth it, and you'd preen as Reiner's lips would connect with yours, smile widely as he gripped your thighs and picked you up, carrying you until your back was against a rock edge or a tree. His large hands groped your cheeks as he kissed sloppily down the middle of your neck towards your chest, already breathing heavy. You smiled as the tingling sensation and a warm heat spread throughout your body, the gorgeous landscape disappearing as your eyes blinked shut with pleasure.

Armin

Armin liked to have you all to himself, often taking you on dates to secluded places or sitting in the corner of restaurants. He was the most gentlemanly and domestic, packing extra jackets and carrying sneakers on the nights you wore heels.

His favorite site was under the large oak tree in the meadows, near where the rabbit's den was. He would set up a picnic blanket in the shade, removing fake glasses for champagne and perfectly portioned meals.

Armin loved telling you how beautiful you looked in the setting sun, the golden light highlighting your features just right. He composed lyrical hymns on the spot, accidentally stringing into teary-eyed poems and soft-spoken sonnets.

The sunset is so beautiful, you would say. Not as beautiful as you, he would reply. You'd roll your eyes because, well, cheesy, before he'd continue: Words elude me as they know they're not worthy of you; Dictionaries are developed to describe you; I could list ten thousand things and none would be as beautiful as you.

And you'd kiss him as the sun dipped beyond the horizon, as the stars shined second to you, illuminating your face as you moaned in ecstasy, intensifying Armin's blue eyes and blond hair as he stared at you from between your legs, his tongue writing love letters in cursive.

Porco

You were the first person Galliard had ever been on a date with, which honestly surprised you. His tough exterior, confident demeanor, honest humor, and cynical smile was so charming you had a hard time believing him when he coyly told you that you were his first, the pink blush on his cheeks just so cute.

During the warm evenings you'd walk along the beach together, enjoying the expansive view of the stars and the soft sounds of the waves landing against the sandy shoreline, watching the tide change.

The sway of you in his huge arms always synced to the sway of the tide, a gentle rocking that soothed your body and mind. You'd close your eyes as his lips would travel along the back of your neck and upper spine. Your hands would travel to his hair and you'd push your hips back into his. Eventually he'd grab your hips and forcefully spin you around, kissing you and dragging you to the soft sand.

He always returned you home after, moist swollen lips and pleasantly tingling bodies, sharing knowing looks and giggles at the dry-humping and grinding that transpired; the sand you find at home for days after becoming an intimate inside joke between you.

Erwin (age gap)

Erwin was the first older man you've been with, and you weren't sure how you had ever survived before. Experienced, mature, muscular, capable, successful, stable.

You were his priority. Were you happy with your wardrobe? He'll buy you a new one. No one to go to the store with? He'll take you shopping wherever you'd like. Did you like the furniture in your apartment? He'll buy you a new set. Did paying bills stress you out? He'll pay it for you. What else would I want to spend my money on if not you? he'd tell you when you'd protest, capturing you within his large arms, pressing you into his strong chest.

Date nights were events, where you both dressed in your nicest garments and ate at a nice restaurant. Erwin would open and close the car door for you, push and pull the chair out for you, pour the bottle of wine for you, order for you, telling you he knew what you liked (he always did).

During the dinner the clouds in his blue eyes whisked into lustful storms. He'd pay the check and hurry you out of the restaurant with his hand glued to your lower back, complaining in your ear about how the food never tasted as good as you did, how he'd wished you'd stayed in and he'd had you instead. He'd rush you into the car, practically running to the other side of the car and racing home.

Jean

Jean prepared you dinner for your first date, buying the ingredients fresh that morning and preparing it from scratch, still cooking (about an hour from being done) when you arrived at his apartment. He'd begged his roommate to leave for the night, and he'd already prepared the table for a romantic evening (about 5 hours before the date started).

He greeted you with a peck on the cheek, a move that you watched him internally question for a split-second, one that he then tried to move on from by awkwardly shuffling you to the counter. You'd smile, a light blush forming from the proximity and the heat of the room.

He liked preparing you dinners for dates, frequently remaking the meal you'd had that first night, kissing you on the cheek every time in homage to that first night. Jean would shower you with compliments, making up for the moments where the sarcastic comments would slip through.

After a few dates you started arriving earlier to cook with him, chopping and dicing vegetables while he seasoned and operated the stove. He'd trap you between his arms against the counter, pressing kiss after kiss to your cheeks and lips and pulling you close, your hands traveling to the growing bulge in his jeans, only moving away when you both started to smell something burning.

Zeke

You had first met Zeke on the lawn at a concert. He was shirtless, sitting on a flannel fabric (probably his shirt), waving both hands in the cool autumn air, a lit lighter in one hand, swaying to the beat of the music, smoking something between his lips.

He put it out as soon as he noticed you standing nearby, scrambling to stand up and started to talk to you between opening acts, somehow managing to intrigue you enough for a date outside the concert venue (totally didn't have anything to do with his six-pack abs).

Although keeping a cool, calm, and collected demeanor, Zeke was always nervous on your dates, constantly wondering if you were enjoying yourself, if the conversation was stimulating enough or if the activities were entertaining enough. He never said anything, but you could read it in the unsteady glances and nervous nail biting.

When you wrapped your arms around his neck, you'd step on your tip-toes and press a soft kiss to his lips, swooping in to ease his anxieties. I had a great time with you, you'd whisper against his lips, thanks for a great night.

He'd tighten his grip around your waist, pull you in as close as you could get, until the only space left between you was the air in your lungs and he was going to squeeze that out too. His attitude would shift as the blood started pumping to his legs, smacking your ass and biting your bottom lip. Let me make it so much better.

Historia

When Historia had first confessed her feelings for you at the coffee shop, you were slightly surprised. The hand-holding and faux-flirting was something she did with everyone. You never realized it was special with you, that it was real with you.

She liked to spoil you, and though she always needed to convince you, you always gave in, letting her buy just that one thing for you or take you to that place you really wanted to go.

Museums were where you both frequently visited, the quiet ambiance perfect for you two. You both talked so much outside of date nights that you had nothing to say during them, and observing art was a hobby you both shared (one that you imprinted on her (she likes it because you do)).

You found out later that Historia considered that time at the coffee shop your first date. But you considered it that first night at the museum, when your hands grazed in front of the Mona Lisa, when you both felt pulled together for the first time, when you both leaned in and kissed for the first time, feeling like no eyes were on you.

Despite that Historia was very affectionate, that first time being an exemption, she never kissed you in public or on camera. That was shared between you two behind closed doors, and you two alone.

[heich0e]

lucky strike - eren yeager/f!reader (3.2k) tags: baseball player!eren, college!au, modern!au, somewhat toxic relationship dynamic, childhood friends to good luck charm/fwb, reader is blatantly trying to get in zeke's pants and also she kind of sucks, heavy petting, making out, slightly rough/manhandling, eren picks reader up, mentions of eren being a big boy, tw reader is on a diet (/makes a questionable comment about bread), eren takes out his aggression on a sandwich. NSFW MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT (18+)

“Hey, want one?” Eren asks, the words vaguely garbled through a mouthful of food.

You scroll down on your Instagram feed, thumb hovering over a selfie of friend, before glancing up at him.

Eren is on the other side of his family’s kitchen, half a sandwich hanging from his mouth, and a peanut butter coated knife poised mid-air as he looks at you.

“Ew,” you say, returning your gaze to the phone in your hands, “no.”

“What do you mean ‘ew’?” Eren asks, swallowing his bite of sandwich. “You love peanut butter.”

“Peanut butter is so bad for you,” you remark, scrolling again. “And I’m not eating bread right now.”

“What the hell is wrong with peanut butter?” Eren mutters, setting the dirty knife on the edge of the sink. He shoves a hand up underneath his baggy t-shirt to scratch idly at his tummy. “And mom just got this bread this morning from that bakery in town you like. It’s so good.”

“It’s also a simple carbohydrate which means—“

The Yeager family’s back door swings closed, and your head swivels towards the sound. In the entryway, you spot a head of blonde hair as the figure ducks down to pull off their shoes. 

“Zeke!” your voice is a full octave higher—and notably more enthusiastic—when you see Eren’s older brother.

Zeke tilts his face up as he unlaces his boots.

“Hey, kid,” he laughs when he sees you draped across the kitchen counter where you sit upon your barstool, beaming at him with a wide smile, “you here again?” 

You nod happily, and Eren makes a noise of disdain from the other side of the kitchen. You shoot him a pointed look to shut him up as Zeke finishes removing his shoes. 

“Don’t you ever get sick of hanging out with this guy?” Zeke drawls, shuffling in and slinging an arm around Eren’s shoulders, tugging his little brother into his side.

Eren takes a large, resentful bite of his peanut butter sandwich (nearly finishing it off), while simultaneously elbowing Zeke roughly in the ribs.

“It’s torture,” you sigh dramatically. “Better now that you’re here, though.”

Zeke snorts, quirking a brow. “My occasional appearance can’t be the only reason you’ve stuck around this long—”

Eren slips out from underneath his brother’s arm, slinking towards the loaf of fresh bread on the other side of the kitchen. 

“—and twenty years is an awfully long time to put up with someone like him.”

“You’re right,”—you nod solemnly in agreement—“Eren, I think we should end it here.”

Zeke barks out a loud laugh, leaning towards you on the counter with his weight resting on his elbows. He props his scruffy chin up in his palm, smiling as he tilts his head to the side.

“C’mon kid, don’t break his heart like that! He’s been following you around like a puppy since you two were in diapers.”

Eren remains silent on the other side of the kitchen, sullenly preparing another peanut butter sandwich. 

“But if I keep spending all my time with him, how am I supposed to find a boyfriend?” you pout, peeking up at Zeke through your eyelashes. 

“Oh, I’m sure you have no trouble in that department,” Zeke says, a blonde brow quirking in mirth and his blue eyes crinkling at the corners. “Much to my dear little brother’s dismay.”

Eren sets the jar of peanut butter down on the counter with a little too much gusto to be casual, snapping out a curt: “did you come over just to be annoying? Or is there actually a good reason you’re here?”

“Aww, baby brother,” Zeke coos, feigning hurt as he turns towards his brother and away from you. “I came to see you!”

Zeke reaches out for Eren, and the younger (but taller) Yeager son bats the elder’s hands away. 

“Fuck off,” Eren grunts. 

“How’d your game go on Friday?” Zeke asks, dropping the act and instead addressing his brother with his usual warmth. The eldest Yeager loves to tease, but he loves his younger brother even more. “Dad said you got a couple really solid knocks in.”

“Obviously,” Eren snorts as he rips a bite out of his second sandwich not dissimilarly to how a predator might devour their prey, his tone making it sound like it should be obvious that he played well.

There’s a reason he’s the star player on the Shiganshina U baseball team, after all. 

“What are you batting these days?” 

“Coach says it’s a .314 after last week's game,” Eren replies, wiping a bit of peanut butter off the corner of his mouth with his thumb before licking it clean. “More than good enough for the National U22 team scouts.”

Eren and Zeke continue to talk baseball for a while longer, and you quickly lose interest—opting instead to watch Zeke’s profile as he chats with his brother. The sharp lines of his stubbled jaw. The delicate slope of his nose. The way the afternoon sunshine soaking in through the kitchen window over the sink makes his blonde hair burn gold.

He really is just unfairly handsome.

“-right, kid?” Zeke is smiling at you as he waits for your response to a question you didn’t hear, snapping you back out of your own thoughts.

“Hm?” you hum, blinking through your confusion. “Sorry, I missed that.”

Zeke chuckles, stepping towards you and dropping a large hand atop your head to ruffle your hair. 

“I said,” he draws out the word pointedly, coming to stand behind you with his hands resting on your shoulders, “as long as you’re there, Eren’s sure to impress the scouts. You’re his good luck charm, after all.”

“Long suffering good luck charm,” you make sure to tack on, tipping your head back to look up at him, the crown of your head landing against his chest. He grins down at you.

“It’s a hard job, but if anyone can do it it’s you,” Zeke says, hands squeezing your shoulders affectionately.

You suppress a shiver at the feeling of his grip. The strength of his hands.

Pitcher’s hands, once upon a time.

“If only it wasn’t so thankless,” you sigh, feigning sorrow. You risk a peek at Eren on the other side of the kitchen from the corner of your eye, and see he’s glowering at you and Zeke’s friendly exchange. 

“Oh, c’mon,” Zeke laughs, dipping down and pressing a quick, prickly kiss to your cheek. The feeling of his stubble brushing against your smooth skin makes blood rush to your head. “You know you’re this family’s favourite child. Eren would probably be in prison by now if it weren’t for your positive influence.”

Judging by the positively murderous look in Eren’s eyes as Zeke pulls away, incarceration still isn’t entirely off the table. 

“Speaking of children and families,”—Zeke stands up straight and steps away from you, much to your dismay—"where are Mister and Misses Yeager?”

“Dad has that conference in Trost this week,” Eren says, his arms crossed over his chest in a way that makes their toned musculature much more evident than his baggy t-shirt betrays. “Left this morning.” 

He’s talking to his brother, but his eyes are on you.

“Ah, Carla went with him?” Zeke asks curiously. 

“Yep.”

“Home alone for the week, huh?” Zeke sidles up towards his brother again, poking him in the side. “You sure you don’t need me to come babysit you?”

“There’s nothing I’d hate more,” Eren says, his nose scrunching in disgust. 

“Aw, little brother,” Zeke clasps a hand to his chest in mock-hurt. He sighs, glancing back at you over his shoulder. “At least I know you’ll make sure he doesn’t burn the place down, right kid?” 

He winks at you.

“I’ll try my very best,” you smile cheekily. “My babysitting fees are pretty steep though.”

“Oh yeah?” Zeke quirks a brow, turning towards you on the opposite side of the counter, leaning forward on his elbows once more. “What’s the going rate these days?”

“Hmmm…”—you tap a finger to your chin in mock contemplation—“Eren’s got a game on Wednesday night. Come keep me company in the stands.”

Zeke laughs, pushing himself up onto his hands. 

“You think that’s a steep price?” Zeke teases. “I know a hundred guys who’d pay for the chance to sit next to you at a game.”

“And lucky you, you get to do it for free,” you say chipperly. 

“Lucky me indeed,” Zeke agrees with a nod, chuckling. “You don’t drive a very hard bargain, you know.”

“What can I say?” you shrug, utterly indifferent to the fact. Pleased by it even. “I’m not much of a businesswoman.” 

Zeke opens his mouth to reply when Eren interrupts. 

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

You and Zeke both look at him in surprise. 

His eyes are on his brother, his expression flat. 

Zeke hides a laugh behind his closed fist. 

“I do actually,” he replies, “I’m coaching little league tonight.”

Zeke peeks over at the clock hanging on the other side of the kitchen. 

“I better head over to the field, now that you mention it.”

You watch sadly as Zeke makes his way over to the back door and prepares to leave. You and Eren both follow.

“Call if you need anything while Dad and Carla are outta town, alright?” Zeke says to his brother once he’s pulled his boots on once more. 

Eren makes some sort of noncommittal grunt, shrugging as he leans against the archway into the back entryway. 

“Have fun at practice, Coach,” you chirp, sneaking up behind Eren and poking your head out from behind his broad shoulders. “Go warriors!"

Zeke smiles, shaking his head.

“I’ll see you on Wednesday,” Zeke says, eyes sliding from you to his little brother. He reaches out and knocks his fist against Eren’s chest affectionately. “Both of you.”

You wiggle your fingers in a wave as Zeke disappears through the door, slipping out of sight. 

You and Eren stand there until you hear the door of Zeke’s truck slam shut and the telltale rumble as the old engine roars to life. 

You’re pinned flat against the wall before the old truck even makes it out of the Yeager’s driveway, with Eren’s mouth pressed—hot and messy and greedy—to yours.

You can still taste the lingering sweetness of peanut butter on his tongue. 

“I hate it when you do that,” Eren whines, his teeth biting into your bottom lip. Biting, not nipping. Pinching down hard enough to hurt.

You make a little noise of complaint, squirming beneath the pressure of his broad, toned body and the equally firm surface of the wall. 

Eren pulls back after a few more moments of kissing you like he’s taking it from you, his chest heaving and a viscid string of spit joining his swollen lips to yours. 

“That hurt,” you complain, scrubbing at your mouth with the back of your hand. “You bit me.”

“You deserve more than a bite after that performance,” Eren counters, his eyes narrowed resentfully. “You might as well have hopped up on the counter and spread your legs for him right there. Might’ve been a little more subtle.”

“Don’t be an idiot,” you mutter, rolling your eyes. You duck out from underneath Eren’s arm as it’s pressed against the wall beside your head, stepping back towards the kitchen. 

“Me?” Eren guffaws. “You just spent the past twenty minutes drooling over my brother and I’m the idiot?”

“Your brother’s hot,” you say with a shrug, tossing an indifferent glance at him over your shoulder. “Can you blame me?”

Eren’s jaw sets, a rigid line as this teeth clench tight. His green eyes swim with spite.

“You’re kinda being a brat, y’know that?”

“Don’t be so jealous, Eren,” you say, your nose scrunching up in distaste. “It’s not a good look on you.”

You turn around again, a smug little smirk curling up at the corner of your lips that he can’t see with your back turned to him. 

Eren’s arms are around your waist in an instant, and you’re flat on your back on the kitchen counter in the next. Eren’s hand behind the crown of your head makes sure your skull doesn’t crack painfully into the marble countertop, but it’s still cold and hard underneath you as you’re sprawled across it like a rag doll. Eren’s mouth finds yours again in another hungry, domineering kiss. 

“God, how do you know exactly how to piss me off?” Eren rasps against your mouth, dragging you down the counter by the belt loops so he can grind his hips into yours. 

He’s as hard as the counter underneath you.

Your breath hitches in your throat, a moan caught just behind the air. 

You could answer his question. You could tell him that you've had two decades to practice and perfect the skill. You could tell him you got so good at it because you know how much he likes it. But you're too distracted as Eren’s hands slip up underneath your t-shirt, pawing at whatever skin has the misfortune of falling into his grip. His hips roll against yours again, and he grabs you by the waist to pull you down into the motion, and this time you really do moan as the tip of his cock ruts against the seam of your jeans—the pressure just enough to stimulate your aching clit.

“What would my big brother would think if he knew why you really spend all your time over here?” Eren mutters, dragging his lips along your jaw, his panting breaths tickle your neck as he mouths at the impossibly sensitive patch of skin just below your ear. The one he knows drives you crazy, in just the way he knows you like so much. “What would he think if he heard the way you beg me to fuck you?”

You gasp as Eren’s teeth bite down into your neck, fleeting but firm, your hands tangling in his half-tied hair and tugging at the soft brown strands. You pull him off your neck, and he meets your gaze with half-lidded, lust-filled eyes. His neck strains at the angle you’re tilting his head back, his prominent adams apple bobbing as he swallows thickly.

“I don’t beg,” you whisper breathily, but you're not sure how much truth there is to the words if history is anything to go by.

Eren smiles, the softness juxtaposed to the ragged breaths you’re both wracked by. The tenderness contrasted by the harsh pang of arousal in your gut. 

“We’ll see about that.”

Eren tosses you over his shoulder and carries you up to his bedroom on the second floor like you weigh nothing. Eren’s build doesn’t betray how strong he really is—years of training and conditioning befitting of a varsity athlete hiding under the baggy hoodies and joggers he lives in everyday. It’s not the first time he’s done this to you, in fact he seems to enjoy making a show of his own strength, but it is perhaps the roughest he’s ever been as he tosses you down atop his unmade bed, crawling promptly onto the mattress atop you. 

He pins your wrists down to the mattress, his hips straddling yours to confine your lower half in a similar way.

He’s so much bigger than you are; no matter how much you wiggle underneath him, there’s no chance of you slipping free.

Not that you particularly want to.

“Did you like teasing me like that?” Eren groans, grinding himself down into you and leaving you with no choice but to take it. 

“I wasn’t t-teasing you,” you stutter over the words you both know string together and form a lie, your head spinning from how good it feels to have his whole weight pressed against you like this. 

“You were,” Eren counters. “You flirt with Zeke just to get under my skin. To try and rile me up.”

You pant up at him, your heartbeat hammering in your chest.

“Did it work?” you ask breathlessly.

Eren’s lashes flutter, a little huff of air that’s not quite a laugh nor a sigh slipping from his swollen lips. He takes your hand in his—much larger, and rougher than your own—and guides it down to the swell in his sweatpants. Beneath the soft cotton you can feel his cock, hard and throbbing under your touch.

Eren’s hips jump slightly when you palm a little firmer against the shape of him of your own volition. His breathing is ragged when he fixes you in his stare, his green eyes burning with want that’s catching, like a fire consuming anything in its path.

“It always does, doesn’t it?”

You smile a little to yourself, and Eren leans down and kisses you again—it’s sweeter this time, a little needier than before. He’s kissing you like he’s asking for something rather than taking it at will.

“Strip,” he grunts, pulling back slightly and tugging hastily at the material of your top.

You look up at him through heavy lidded eyes, the boy you’ve known all your life flushed down to his neck as he watches you just as carefully as you do him. You brush a little piece of hair that hangs down over his eyes back, fingertips ghosting against the shell of his ear as you tuck the tendril behind it.

“Do it yourself,” you chirp, your lips quirking at the corner.

The fire in Eren’s eyes burns brighter, and the cycle, as ever, starts anew.

You fight, you fuck, and then you go back to being whatever the hell the two of you are—and have been all your lives—until the same wheel spins again and brings you back around to the beginning. 

And come Wednesday you find yourself in the stands at Eren’s game, as usual; his long-suffering good luck charm with his jersey on your frame, and his teethmarks pressed into your skin underneath it. 

Zeke sits beside you, glancing at you occasionally from the corner of his eye. He spies some evidence of just what the two of you have been up to in the days since he saw you last, but says nothing, laughing to himself at the strange dynamic the two of you have. He’s long stopped questioning it—or the role he occasionally plays as a pawn in your unusual game.

You watch Eren step up to the plate, bat in hand, and you can’t help but appreciate how nicely his tailored uniform fits his body. Can’t help but think about what you know he looks like underneath it. Can’t help but think about the promise he made to you just that morning, fucking you over the bathroom counter at his house, his lips pressed to your ear.

“The only thing you’re gonna be able to think about tonight when you’re sitting next to my brother at my game is how hard I made you cum on my cock.”

You can't help but think he's made good on it.

The pitcher at the mound in the centre of the field winds up, and you feel the palpable anticipation crackling through the stands. It’s eager and visceral, like a collectively held breath.

At home base, Eren lifts his bat. He wiggles his fingers, a ritual he always does, before his hands tighten around the grip. 

You swallow thickly, your heartbeat thumping in your throat.

The bat cracks against the ball in a clean hit that sends the spectators into a roar, and Eren takes off running to first base, then to second. As he rounds his way to third, you spot the almost feral grin on his face because he knows he’s going to make it home. His eyes, though you can’t quite make out the green from such a distance, find yours in the stands.

You clench your thighs together in your seat.

Beside you, Zeke laughs, slumping back into his seat almost incredulously. 

Like he just can’t believe his little brother’s luck.

[neesieiumz]

| ֍ ⸻ 𝙫𝙚𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙚 ⳼ 𝙯𝙚𝙠𝙚 𝙮𝙚𝙖𝙜𝙖𝙧

「 synopsis 」 ⸻ zeke yeager is a good person, said no one ever

「 warnings 」 ⸻ 18+. minors do not interact. infidelity. lawyer!zeke. trophy-wife!reader. fem!reader. afab!reader black-coded!reader. reader comes from old money, has a wealthy family and has a huge inheritance. that's basically the whole reason why her husband married her. reader's husband is an OC named Michail Palakos. he's also very condescending to you. mainly Zeke's pov, but there is a transition from zeke's pov to your own but it isn't explicitly said. manipulation on zeke's end. pwp. cunnilingus. fingering. missionary. couch sex. bathroom sex. zeke wraps his hand around your throat but he doesn't choke you. hair pulling. degradation. he calls you a slut as well. multiple scenes and transitions, with dividers. zeke bends you over your bathroom sink. zeke had a plan and he finally got his platform.

「 writer's notes 」 ⸻ this is so late 💀💀💀, I was so lazy with getting this out. I did an exercise for myself to come up with fic ideas and this one and the professor!shunsui idea are the ones that stuck with me. it was originally named dianthus but it thought vespertine was a better fitting name for it. after I finish eren's part in gold rush and the next chapter of basorexia, that shunsui idea is definitely the next one

「 word count 」 ⸻ 6.7k.

Zeke Jaeger believes he’s a good person. 

As he sat around the small ballroom, overly bored out of his mind as he swirled around a glass of brown liqueur. The suit he wore was a tad bit too tight around his neck, and the bright lights were giving him a slight migraine. He let out an internal sigh, before laughing along to another joke one of the many old geezers sitting at his table let out. One of the many parts of his job he hates, pandering and pampering people who held the key to everything he needed and desired for the real parts of the job that he loved. The smile he wore was pretentious in nature as his eyes began to drift across the room. Lifting his hand, he took a long sip of his drink, before his eyes landed across the room. 

The lights reflected and shimmered against gold glitter, etched into the main hem of the skirt. His eyes moved up, seeing your beautiful braids trail down your back oh-so beautifully. His heart twisted as they landed on your wide smile. You held a drink in your hand, a champagne flute as Zeke’s eyes darted towards the hand wrapped around her waist. The man holding her close held a pretentious smirk, as he flaunted his wife off like a trophy, which to be fair, is exactly what she was meant to be. Her beautiful skin shined in the room, it was obvious she was meant to be looked at. 

Zeke took the last sip of his drink, before standing up, excusing himself from the conversation of which he had no idea the main subject of. He pushed past other tables, smiling, waving, and nodding at those who acknowledged him before making his way across the room. He gently excused himself past people deep in their own conversations. His partner saw him approach first, eyes lighting up slightly as he basically shoved past you to get to him, hand reaching out towards them. 

Zeke let off a smirk, before reaching out before pulling him into a handshake converted into a side hug. The person the two of you were talking to quickly gave Zeke a small greeting, before walking off to refill his drink. You smiled at Zeke, much softer and felt more real than the other smile you were once adorning. Hold your arms open, and you pull him for a hug which he reciprocates, placing a soft kiss on your cheek. Your grip on him slightly together for a moment before fully releasing, taking a step back. In doing so, your husband wrapped his arm back around your waist. 

“I thought you found these kinds of parties to be pretentious, Zeke?” His co-worker, Michail Palakos, spoke first. 

Zeke shrugged his shoulders, shoving his free hand into his pocket, “just reaching my monthly quota with the big bosses.”

You let off a giggle this time, covering your plump lips with your hand. The sound was sweet in his ears, it twisted his heart just a little. He wondered what other sound he could hear from you? What else could you show him? 

“I feel you on that, these types of things can be so exhausting,” Michail spoke, suddenly grabbing the flute of your handi and basically downing the rest before gagging, giving you the empty glass. 

“Ugh, I don't know how you women can drink things like that,” he complained, taking a step away from you. 

Zeke saw the way your statute deflated, hands clasping and coming up in front of you, stopping your fidgeting hands. He shook his head slightly, humming a little before lifting his glass, and taking another sip only to taste cold water. He blinked, before looking down at his glass, nothing but melting ice in there. Michail noticed his empty glass before turning towards you. 

“Be a dear and get us some more drinks, preferably something actually enjoyable.” he said before fully turning away from you, facing Zeke. 

Zeke glanced over at you as your mood only dampened, before turning away, and walking towards the open bar on the other side of the room. His eyes didn't leave you as you reached the bar until the man beside him spoke up. 

“This latest case has got me stressed, you?” 

Zeke shrugged his shoulders, swirling his empty cup, “I’ve finished my parts in it, if you need help with yours, it’s not a problem.” 

Michail let out a laugh, sarcastic in nature, hand popping out, slapping Zeke on the back. Zeke felt a level of disgust run through him as the man acted as if they were close friends. He only dealt with it, as he couldn't do much else within the firm. Heels clicking again the porcelain floors brought his attention back as he turned, seeing you walking back to them with two identical drinks in hand. You smelled of a luxurious vacation, of sweet honeyed neroli oil and sugared coconuts. It was intoxicating, you were intoxicating. You handed the two of them the drinks, smiling over at Zeke before moving to stand beside your husband. Michail took a sip of the drink, humming and shrugging his shoulders. 

“Least you can get one thing right,” he mumbled before taking another sip.

You let out a nearly slight sigh, straightening up your figure before looking at Zeke, a smile appearing back on your face. 

“So back to this case, Zeke,” Michail started, but Zeke shook his head. 

“Rather not talk about working during things like this, just wanted to come over and check in with you. We’ll talk tomorrow,” He said, taking a sip of the drink you brought over. 

Michail’s eyebrows quivered but still nodded in Zeke’s direction. Zeke began to turn away from him, but not before he reached out towards you, taking one of your hands, before placing a soft kiss on it. He could feel your hand tensing within his hold, glancing up at you, seeing your eyes soften at his gesture. With that, he bidded the two of you good night before walking off towards the exit. He finished his drink, handing it off to the servers ambling around the room, before escaping into the night. 

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──

He could only roll his eyes at the way Michail flipped his phone upside down after swiping at it for the fifth time within the last 45 minutes. It was quite obvious who was calling him, as it was etching into 9 o’clock at night. It was the two of them and some other associates, preparing for a big case. Zeke looked at him along with the other people in the room, all wondering the same thing. 

“You should probably answer it, if it’s important?” One of the younger associates called out. 

Michail only rolled his eyes, “it’s just the wife, wondering why I’m not home yet. Something about a dinner party tonight? I don’t fucking know…” he trailed off, mumbling at the last part. 

Zeke blinked, mind thinking back to you, the constant point on your face he would see you with. His thoughts only broke when the sounds of vibrations were heard throughout the room. Everyone gleaned down at Michail’s phone once again, before looking over at his face, flushed with annoyance. He picked up his phone once again, before suddenly standing up, his chair nearly flying back.

“Excuse me,” he mumbled before stepping out of the room. 

The atmosphere was slightly tense but everyone mainly focused on getting back to their work. Zeke was flipping through a huge packet, highlighting important information before the door flew back open. Everyone looked back up only to see Michail enter back into the room, hands in both of his pockets as he sat down, before focusing back on the piles of papers in front of him. Zeke looked at him for a few more moments, before rolling his eyes once more, focusing back on his work. He knew Michail wouldn't bother to actually go home to you. 

Three hours rolled by and everything was set, most of everyone had already gone home as it was etching onto eleven o’clock. It was only Zeke and Michail left, with Zeke soon reaching the last part of his work. Just as he finished dotting the last sentence of his notes, he heard a loud yawn as well as the creak of the desk chair before glancing over to his right and seeing Michail stand up. As the man packed up his papers, he glanced down at the watch on his wrist. 

“She should be asleep by now,” he mumbled under his breath, placing his laptop and papers in his bag.

Zeke said nothing, watching him sling the bag over his shoulders. Michail looked over at Zeke and gave a one-handed wave before heading off into the night. Zeke could only sigh, placing his pen down as he tried his best to relax his mind. As he did so, his mind began to pump fantasies of you asleep on the bed. What would you be wearing? A dainty little nightgown, riding up your beautiful dark thighs, or would you wear nothing at all? Zeke groaned, through his hand back as he began to palm his growing hard-on. He could see himself towering over you, drunk off of your sleeping presence. He imagined himself, grabbing at your legs, peeling them back, spreading them wide open.

He let out a groan as he envisioned your eyes fluttering open just as he sunk himself into you, stretching you out like so. Your melodious voice crying out to him, begging him for more, your hands digging marks into his arms as he pummeled into you. Fantasy upon fantasy amassing within him, Zeke could only let out gasp-like groans, throwing his head back as his seed spilled out, bleeding through his khaki-colored pants. Breathing heavily, moving his head back down, he could only let out a sound of slight disgust as he looked down at his stained pants. He stood up and began to pack up his own work, before heading towards his office for a change of clothes. As he pulled off the stained pants, his mind wandered back to the events that had just happened, how his reveries had overflown at that moment.

And how he has finally made his decision. 

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──

Zeke stood up straight as he rang the doorbell, before taking a step back. It was mid-day, and it was one of the few days Zeke decided to take. He tucked his hands in his pockets after glancing over at his watch. He heard noises getting closer before the sound of the deadbolt clicking, and the intricate door slowly opening. He found himself facing an unknown figure, one glance at her outfit and she was obviously someone who had worked for you and your husband.

“Yes, may I help you?” She asked him.

He cleared his throat, but just before he could speak, another voice cut through. He glanced up as your form peeped behind the maid.

“Riza, who’s at the door?”

Your eyes landed on his, almost immediately lighting up, “Zeke! What a surprise, come in!”

Once you said that, the maid stepped back, nodding slightly towards you before scurrying along into the house. Zeke took a few steps into the house, taking in the vaguely familiar surroundings. The last time he had been in here was when Michail had hosted his housewarming when he arrived at the firm three years ago, that's when the two of you had first met. All that time had passed by between you two and yet, it was his second time stepping into the three-story luxury mansion. 

His eyes locked onto your form, seeing your hips sway as you led him past the anteroom, towards a more casually designed, yet still obviously opulent living room. You wore a two-piece silk lounge outfit, the hems of the arms and legs fitted with tulle ruffles. Your hair was wrapped in a silk scarf, it was obvious you weren’t expecting company today. You gestured for him to sit, taking the seat two cushions down from him before looking over at the maid standing close to you. You told her to bring some snacks, as well as any bottle of wine that would pair well. Zeke tried to interject, but you were already sending her off. You were vague with your instructions, he noted, you must have trusted this maid very well. 

Riza, the maid, nodded before scurrying along, most likely headed to the kitchen to prepare what you have asked for. Once she was gone, it was just the two of you, and it strained Zeke to keep his eyes right on your face as you gave him a soft smile. 

“This really was a surprise, I haven’t seen you in here since… well since we actually moved in. I always see you at Michail’s work events and such… but never here. What brings you by? Shouldn’t you be at work right now?” You ended your spiel with a question. 

Zeke hummed, shrugging his shoulders a bit before leaning back against the back of the couch, “took the day off, my parents actually live around here, and was visiting them when I passed by your place. Thought I should stop by.” He lied through his teeth, his parents preferred to come and visit him at his penthouse than for him to come by. 

You hummed, eyes widening slightly, “From what I heard, you barely take any days off. It’s good to go and see them though. I’m sure they’ve missed you,” you smiled at yourself, turning your body slightly to face him. 

Before he could respond, footsteps interrupted you, the two of you glancing over at the same time, seeing Riza enter with a tray of snacks, along with a bottle of red wine and two glasses. Whilst you were looking away, Zeke's eyes looked towards you, trailing down to your exposed cleavage, the thin, shimmer-like fabric pressing up against your breasts. 

The sound of glass clinking against glass broke Zeke out of a trance, giving him just enough to look away. Towards the maid placing the tray on the table in front of them. You turned yourself once again, facing forward, thanking Riza as she tableed everything, before taking the tray with her as she took her leave. He reached over, immediately grabbing the bottle of wine, before taking a closer look at it. With one twist, he easily broke the seal, before grabbing the corkscrew, and fully opening it up. He poured out the red-purple alcohol, seeing you reach over for a glass.

“Should we be drinking wine this early in the day?” he asked, placing the bottle down on the table. 

You grabbed a glass, raising it up slightly before winking, “I won’t tell if you won’t tell.” you grinned, before taking a sip.

Zeke let off a downturned smile before grabbing his own glass and taking a long sip as well. 

The two of you carried conversations well into the day, sharing the bottle of wine between the two of you. He barely took any of the snacks, keeping his focus mainly on you as you partake in them. 

“So how is Michail at work, he barely talks to me about his day,” you mentioned, bringing your newly-filled glass to your lips.

He took in the slight change of mood within you, the once joyous light in your eye, dimming down to a more mirthless one. Zeke hummed, lifting his foot to rest up against the knee of his other leg. 

“He’s… hard-working, but very friendly to the staff, they enjoy his presence more than me.” He took on a humorous tone but kept his eye on you as your body deflated just a bit more.

“Really…? Friendly how?”

Zeke pondered for a minute before shrugging his shoulders, “just talking to people a lot, sometimes about work but most of the time he’s not. A lot of friendly touches, especially with that new assistant of his.”

Your eyebrows quirked up, “assistant?”

“Yeah, assistant? He didn’t tell you about that?”

You shook your head, sighing before taking another long sip of your fermented alcohol, “he doesn’t tell me anything, least not anymore… most days he just comes home and doesn't say a word to me.”

You mumbled out the next part, most likely thinking that Zeke wouldn't hear you, but he heard you loud and clear. 

“Doubt he’s even noticed I don’t sleep in the same bedroom with him anymore.”

Zeke said nothing but locked that into the back of his mind, another piece of the complex puzzle of your and Michail’s marriage. Zeke shifted the conversation away from you and Michail, bringing back your joyous mood. You continued talking until the sun went down, and soon after the two of you personally exchanged numbers. You stood by the door, waving him off as he got into his car, driving off and away from the large house. 

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──

You were lonely. 

Zeke could tell this from the way the two of you constantly talked. You grew up in a cold home of cold cash and empty mansions, which is how he could guess you were used to your own husband’s condescension and cold attitude. You were used to faking smiles and pretending to be interested in things that had no merit in your life. However, Zeke could tell, from the way you constantly messaged him, to always inviting him over whilst your husband was away. You craved companionship, for a long time you ached for someone to be interested in you and not the check attached to you from your parents. You came from old money, with a huge trust fund as well as stocks in your family's multiple companies. You served on the board of the main enterprise, led by your brother as your parents had retired after you had gotten married.

You hadn’t spoken to them in two months apparently, as there was nothing to really talk about. You were closer to your younger sister, as she went to the luxury private college in the city. You were like a fountain, spilling all of your life for Zeke to listen to, and he took it all in. Your phone calls lasted all the way through his lunch period and sometimes he would be on the phone with you while he was working, by himself of course. Before you knew it, three months had passed, and Zeke was a more constant thread in your life than your own husband. 

Zeke couldn’t lie, something within him jumped every time you sent him a message, but his goal was still high in his head. This was why he stood in his expensive penthouse, in his recently cleaned kitchen as he gleaned over at his dinner table, two silver dorms covering the dinner he had just prepared. He had invited you over for dinner, just the two of you. Just as he buttoned the last of the cufflinks, a loud ring echoed through the home. He took one good look at himself before walking over to the door, twisting the deadbolt, and unlocking the door knob before swinging the door wide open. You stood there, a smile on your face, one hand at your side, the other holding the strap of the orange clutch you brought with you. 

Your braids were pulled back into a low ponytail, showing off the obvious low cleavage of your chain-strapped orange dress. Zeke smiled at you, arms reaching out before swooping you into a hug, your own smile widened as you reciprocated, giggling as you were lifted off the ground slightly. He didn’t break the hug as he pulled you into the home, turning around. The two of you soon let go of the hug, with Zeke turning sound to go and close the door. While he did that, you took the time to engage within your surroundings, seeing the environment Zeke lives in. 

“Oh wow, your home looks amazing,” you said, spinning around to take in everything. 

“Thank you,” he spoke back, coming up behind you, placing a hand at the small of your back before gently guiding you towards the slightly decorated table over by the window wall.

He stopped right at the table, before stepping away, pulling out your seat before gesturing for you to sit. You thanked him, placing off your clutch before placing it right on the table and sliding right into the seat. You gasped as he stood right behind you, body heat radiating off of him as he pushed your chair in with ease. You kept your eyes on him as he walked around the table, taking a seat right in front of you. He lifted the domes off the plates, seeing your eyes light up at dinner. You had off-handly mentioned smothered lamb chops and mashed potatoes as your favorite meal your old housekeeper used to make while you were growing up. Zeke knew it wasn’t going to be the same but just having the same dish was enough for you. 

You had thanked him for the dinner before y'all began to eat. The two of you ate with little words, as you were both raised in households that valued quietness during dinner. Once finished, you had moved from the table to the living room, holding another glass of red wine that you had paired with the dinner as he moved the bottle to the living room. 

“I just…” you started, reminiscing on the journey you and your husband have taken, “I wish I made more of my life… rather than constantly relying on the connections my parents made for me. Maybe, I’d be strong enough to leave him.”

You had kicked off your heels at this point, toes covered in the skin-colored pantyhose you wore underneath your dress. You had rested your legs on the couch, bent and tucked away as you took another sip of your glass. Your dress had risen up, past your knees, but still covering up everything. 

“Connections?” Zeke questioned.

You nodded your head, “yeah, his parents were close with mine, and he was the only boy around my age that my parents approved of. Only for me to be stuck in a loveless marriage, all for money.”

Zeke’s hand reached out, placing it right on your knee. Your body slightly jolted from the sudden contact, the feeling electrified like static electricity. His rough hand moved up and down, caressing you. Your heart sped up just a bit, but you couldn’t stop him, or rather, you didn’t want to stop him. His touch was warm, a contrast to everything else in your life. You said nothing as he scooted closer to you, his other hand coming up and pulling you close to him.

“I’ve tried my best to make it work, but he’s made it quite clear that the check my parents send every month is much more important than him,” you said, taking another sip of your wine.

Your mind flashed to your wedding, everything was perfect, and you believed your life would be perfect. You believed he loved you, he made you believe he loved you, but his love was really money, it was an almighty consumer of his life. It wasn’t enough, not enough in his professional life, not enough in his personal life. Cold hard cash was he visioned for, and he’ll do anything to get it., even if it means throwing away the warmth of his wife.

“You deserve more than a man that sees you as his next paycheck,” he said, leaning his head down towards your ear. 

Zeke’s hand rubbed up and down on your arm, the warmth relaxing you, and before you knew it, you were laying your head on his shoulder. The negative thoughts about your failing marriage soon began to break away as thoughts of the man beside you began a subtle influx in your mind. Zeke smelled of blackened teakwood and a subtle sense of mahogany and lavender. His scent had you relaxing in his hold, it was the opposite of your husband, who usually smelled of spiced whiskey, from his cologne or his collection of alcohol. You couldn’t help but snuggle further into him, as lines were beginning to blur. You knew this was treading about muddy waters, but you couldn't find it within you to care. The hand resting on your thigh began to creep up, your breathing hitching just a little as your heart began to race. The hand that had once been resting on your upper arm and shoulder left for a moment, before feeling his large hands wrapped around your own, easing the half-full glass of wine off your hand before reaching down and placing it on the table. 

“Lemme take care of you,” he whispered to you. 

That diminutive ache that had been building within you the moment you laid eyes upon Zeke opened the door for you. This was wrong, you knew this was wrong, you thought to yourself once again as Zeke’s hand joined his other, each right on your inner thigh, massaging deep circles into the skin. 

“Zeke,” you let out a gasp-like breath, hips moving and grinding against nothing. 

The thong you wore underneath the dress was drenched, head thrown back in growing ecstasy. With ease, he lifted you up into his lap, trembling as you felt his hardon poking through his slacks.

“Zeke…” you let out again, tongue unable to say anything else as his fingers dipped underneath your dress. 

This was wrong, this was wrong, this was wrong. However, the care you were supposed to feel, the notion to push off your one and only friend never came. Instead, it was replaced with a growing ache, and the need for touch, his touch. His fingers curved up and around the thin string before slowly pulling the sky fabric away from your pussy. Cool air hit your wetness as his fingers rubbed up and down between your slits, gathering your juices up. 

“This is wrong… I shouldn’t do this…” you finally spoke up, but your hands didn’t move as he slowly sunk a finger into you. 

Zeke’s hums vibrated through you, “but if I don't… who will? You deserve to be spoiled, touched upon. He does not appreciate who he has… so let me.”

His words enthralled you, enamored you as he began to move his thick finger in and out within you. Your dress had ridden up to your hips and his free hand slowly pushed your legs wide open. It allowed more room for him to finger-fuck you deeper, his hand reaching and wrapping underneath your knee, lifting it up slightly. Spit drooled from your mouth as your sticky arousal coated his finger and the knuckles of his hands. You could feel his slightly abrasive beard grazing against your skin. Letting out another choked moan as Zeke bullied another finger into you. Your hips bucked, giving in to the pleasure as he twisted his long fingers inside of you. 

“That’s it… let me in,” he whispered in your ears, seeing your eyes squeezed shut. 

“Let me do what your husband has failed to do.”

You could feel Zeke’s mouth upturn against you as you let out a high-pitched moan, climax rising. Your abdomen slowly tightens, heat swelling, sweat dripping as you let out a final high-pitched moan. Your cunt spilled your juices excessively coating his fingers and hand as you came all over him. Your hands had dug into his shirt, finding an anchor to try and stabilize yourself. Slowly coming down from your high, you found yourself slumping against him, breathing heavily. Your eyes were heavy, barely able to keep them open, only able to feel Zeke slowly pulling his finger out of you. His other hand slowly left your thighs, allowing your legs to slump down, feeling touching the ground. 

You could feel your body moving, shuffling as you slowly were laid across the couch. You could feel his now warmed hands slide right back under your dress, moving his fingers underneath the thin fabric of your thong before slowly pulling it down. Your eyes fluttered open, seeing Zeke tower over you. His shirt was unbuttoned, revealing his toned chest. Your hands reached up, the palms of your hand grazing over the slightly textured skin. Zeke pulled off your thong, taking the soaked underwear in his hands before pocketing it in his pockets. Your hands slide up and around his body, unable to take your eyes off of him, his hands soon reaching down to his fly. You could see his erection fighting against the seams of his pants, seeing the way he slowly unzipped his pants before unbuttoning them.

Zeke pushed his slacks and boxers down at the same time, his cock springing out of its entrapment. He pushed down his clothes to his knees before bending over, hands falling to your thighs before grabbing them, slowly pushing back, knees going as far as they could towards your ears as he spread wide open for him. 

“Zeke,” you whined, as he felt the tip of his cock swipe between your lips, teasing your clit. 

With no other warning, you felt pushing himself into you, letting out a sudden cry. No matter the amount of prep Zeke took, you were still so tight, more evidence of how little your husband touched you. Zeke ignored your pleas and cried for him to “slow down” and “stop.” He let out a loud groan, head thrown back as he felt your walls squeezing him around him, the only thing of yours he heard was your high-pitched moans. This was everything he envisioned and more, seeing you crying under him, begging for him, your hands gripping his bare waist. His fantasy came back in full force, god the amount of time it took to make it a reality.

Zeke glanced down at your tear-streaked face. How your braids were undone from the cleaned-up ponytail you had done for the dinner. Seeing your makeup also get ruined, seeing you get ruined whilst under his body, under his hand. Oh, he could come right here and now, he thought to himself.

He held himself back, not wanting to ruin everything and end it all so quickly. He could feel your long nail breaking his skin further, using the temporary anchor, you pulled the man closer as your slightly pained please turned into a passion-filled gasp and moans, calling and screaming out his name. 

“Don’t stop, aahh,” you let out a prolonged moan, tongue drooling out of your mouth as ecstasy hit at full blast. 

You were like a virgin all over again, from the way you screamed, chasing an inevitable high that you have never tasted before. You never felt like this before, even after losing your virginity to some dunce in college before getting married. Even after consummating your marriage, your husband was always weak and underwhelming, Zeke was just the opposite and it was delicious. You didn’t know what to do with yourself but fell deeper into the nirvana he has placed out for you. 

You find yourself keening and drooling over the bearded man above you. An even heavier and deeper climax was building within you and once again, hitting you like a ton of bricks, you squealed. 

“Coming!” Was your only warning before your body shook with complete orgasmic pleasure. 

Eye rolling out the back of your head as Zeke gave off one last grunt, before leaning down fully, capturing your lips into a messy, wet kiss. You could feel the wetness of the sweat dripping down his beard but you don't care, your body still shaking from the aftershocks of your orgasm. You could feel his seed filling you up as he kissed you, your legs unconsciously wrapping around his waist, keeping him closer,

Breathing heavily, your head slumped up against the couch, legs slowly releasing Zeke from your hold, before the two of you locked eyes, Zeke still holding you. With no other words, squealing as Zeke suddenly picked you up, before carrying you in his arms, possibly heading upstairs towards his bedroom.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──

Since that day, everything has changed.

You couldn’t let go of him, no matter how much you tried. Like you even tried at all.

From Zeke having your legs spread across his kitchen countertop, to you two having a heart-racing quickie in the bathroom of a mutual work event. It was complete madness, and you loved it. It was different, it was unique, and it was oh-so-wrong. His large hands roam your body, causing vast reactions within you. He soon learned everything that made you tick.

You had changed, your relationship with your husband had changed, and your relationship with Zeke had changed. Your conversations were constantly shifting, and every time you would visit him or vice-versa, you would find his hands on you. Your texts constantly consisted of lewd wording and imagery, you found a new use for the lacey, expensive lingeries that were almost collecting dust within your dresser. Pictures, videos of the two of you, solos of you, and solos of him. It was madness… it was freedom.

Zeke was good, so much better than the few times your husband has taken you. He towered over you, and his every demand you couldn't help but fulfill. You fell deeper and deeper into ensnarement, and you truly didn't know just how far you’ll go for him. Which is what led up to this moment right here. 

You had sent Riza home early, and your husband was on a “work trip.” Giving you free rein as Zeke had you bent over your bathroom sink, silk robe bunched up at your waist, revealing your wet cunt to him. Zeke wasted no time, licking and sucking away at your pussy, your juices dripping down against his beard. Your hands gripped at the counter, head bowed down as your legs trembled. He didn’t let up, his hands attached to each cheek, spreading you wide open. 

“Ooooohhhh,” you mewled, body slumping against the sink as he ravaged you. 

His chuckle rattled you, causing your body to jerk and jolt against his lips. He lapped and sucked away at your clit, licking up all your juices as he did so. The bathroom smelled of soft vanilla and pink lilacs, the golden-dimmed lighting providing an extra ambiance to the scene before you. Zeke devoured you like a madman, not letting up no matter how you screamed and squirmed in his hold. 

“Zeke,” you cried out his name, “s’too much, fuck fuck fuck.”

He said nothing, but his actions spoke even louder as his sucking action intensified, causing you to let out a vocal choked moan, spit flying out of your mouth, and splatter against the sink counter. With a sudden jerk, your orgasm washed over you like a rapid wave, unseen and unbeknown to you. You shook violently as you lost your footing, feeling yourself slipping for just a short moment. Zeke’s hands slid up, allowing his arms to wrap around your waist, holding you completely steady as he drank your juices down. You could feel his moans and groans as he did so, providing extra overstimulation to your clit. 

Inhaling deeply, catching your sled as you dropped onto the counter, feeling Zeke behind you as he fully stood up. You glanced ahead, staring at his tall figure in the mirror, before eyeing one of the glasses of wine you had brought with you. Quickly grabbing it, taking a couple sips as you felt that familiar pressure creeping and pressing inside of you. You let out an elongated hum as you swallowed the wine, your head bent back, looking at him in his eyes as one of his hands gripped the flesh on your hips. His other hand slides up your body, before wrapping around your throat, squeezing ever so slightly. He pulled you into another deep kiss, tasting the tanginess of the wine and you taste the mint of his gum. 

Letting go of the kiss, you could feel his hand apply pressure as his hips slowly began to move in and out of you, your cunt squeezing around him. He easily maneuvered your body, bending you back over the sink, his hand leaving your throat before joining the other right at your waist. His pace easily picked up as you found your balance, holding onto the bathroom counter as he fucked you against it, his pace slowly picking up with every few seconds. One of his hands left your waist before easily wrapping your braids around his neck, suddenly pulling your head back with a sudden force. The pain echoed through your body, but it only pushed your pleasure to even higher heights. Your mind went hazy, your eyes swelling with your salty tears, obscuring your vision, slowly dripping down your freshly-cleaned face. 

There was no reason to hold back your moans, as there was nobody home as your loud moans reverberated against the walls. 

“Hmm, aww are you crying baby? Is it too much for you?” He teased you, hand leaving your hips before feeling him leave a loud smack against your deep-toned skin. 

The red-hot sparks of his hand, combined with his hands still in your hair had you keened, full-on sobbing as tears and sweat dripped down your face to your neck, all the way down your body. He pulled your body all the way back up, keeping your legs spread as he let go of your hair, hand-cupping your face, squeezing your cheeks as he began pressing his lips against your face, tasting your salty tears. 

“Zeke,” you pleaded as he released your face. 

With no other warning, you squealed as you were suddenly hoisted into the air, Zeke’s large hands sliding right underneath your thighs. He held you up by the backs of your knees before continuing to slam hiscock into you. His sudden actions awakened something in you, letting out a sudden shout as you convulsed in his arms. Your hands scrambled, reaching for something to hold onto you as he pounded into you once again. 

“Squeezing around me like that,” he murmured in your ear, his deep voice causing you to shudder. 

“Open your eyes, look at yourself in the mirror.”

Slowly, you pried your eyes open as best as you could, blinking away the tears before gazing at yourself in the mirror. Your robe had come fully undone, revealing your breasts bouncing every movement Zeke made within you. 

“God,” he said as he looked at how debauched you were, how in so few months he easily wrecked you from the inside out. 

“Who do you belong to?” He groaned in your ear next, feeling your pussy tensing and spasming around him. 

You opened your mouth but were barely able to answer as your mind succumbed to pleasure, but Zeke was having none of it. You could feel his nails dig into your skin as he spoke again. 

“Answer my fucking question, slut, who do you belong to?”

“You!” you struggled to get out, but once you did, it was loud, bouncing against the walls. 

He chuckled, his pace becoming sporadic in nature as he continued to speak, talking you through what would be your inevitable orgasm. 

“Yeah , you belong to me? What about your little husband, huh?” he breathed out, huffing as he began to reach his own limit. 

“Mmmh fuck I don’t care about him, fuck fuck fuck I’m gonna come, please, please let me come…” you sobbed out, eyes rolling to the back of your head as rock-solid pressure began to build within you. 

He only smirked, “come for me.”

With that, you let out a loud cry, body jerking in his hold as convulsions took hold of you. You squirted all over the two of you, juices spread all over your inner thighs as well. With a final grunt, he followed right after you, easily pulling out of you, cum easily staining your inner thighs as well, getting on his lower abdomen as well. 

As Zeke took one last look at you, seeing how to spit drooled down from your plump, wet lips, breathing heavily from the strenuous activity. Slowly he pulled you off his now-soft cock, with ideas to take you to the shower to clean you up once again. 

Neither of you hears the door beginning to click open. 

[yanderecrazysie]

Could you write something with yandere porco with a reader from paradis and he kidanapps her in liberio thanks

I hope this turned out alright, it felt blah

Title: Liberio Liebling

Pairings: Porco Galliard x Reader

WARNINGS: yandere themes, heavy spoilers

Summary: Why must he feel this way about an island devil?

The aftermath of the attack on Liberio had left all of the warriors feeling drained and broken. Most of the survivors had lost family and friends and all of them were feeling the loss of prodigy beast titan holder Zeke.

Porco was plagued with something different than the others. Sure, he felt the pain of loss and grief, but there was something else, something he couldn’t tell anyone else. There had been a moment where all of the other soldiers had faded away, leaving one particular soldier in his sights. 

You looked so beautiful with your hair blowing in the wind, suspended in midair with your maneuvering gear. You were ethereal to him, landing so gracefully on the rooftops, your boots barely making a sound. You looked gorgeous in all-black, but he wondered what you’d look like in civilian’s clothes. Like Levi, you wore the wings of freedom cape, which billowed behind you like angel’s wings.

Porco was sure his heart had stopped once he had spotted you for the first time. Even with Eren to fight, his eyes strayed, looking for you. When he was forced to break through the crystal with his teeth, his gaze locked on you.

Your gaze had been so pitying and sad, unable to look away from the terrible sight, even as Lara Tybur was turned into a human smoothie for the dreaded Attack Titan. You showed no hint of victoriousness, just a deep, deep sadness.

You were an island devil, a disgusting, horrible creature since birth. And, yet, despite all of Porco’s loyalty, he couldn’t help but dream about you every night.

His dreams varied, but all were romantic to a fault. Cuddling, dating, marriage, children… he wanted to deny that he wanted these things, but his dreams and daydreams betrayed him.

As awful as it was, he was in love with a devil.

—------------------------------------------------------

Porco waited patiently as the merchant took his money in exchange for a loaf of bread. Something was off- he could feel eyes boring through his back. He turned around suddenly and his eyes went wide as he spotted you.

Your eyes went just as wide and you quickly brought a newspaper to your face. He stared at you, taking in your presence. You wore nice clothing and an Eldian armband, obviously trying to fit in. If you had been any other soldier, he wouldn’t have recognized you.

You were an island devil. You were spying on him and his home. He should be furious, vengeful… but instead he was excited, his heart pounding with anticipation as he approached you.

Your heart pounded too, but for an entirely different reason. You could hear him approaching you in the nearly-empty street. You tried to keep your composure, reminding yourself of your mission. Gather intelligence after the brutal attack on Liberio.

The intensity of his gaze unnerved you, but the fact that his armband was red scared you more. He was probably a titan shifter! He could transform into one of those terrifying titans you had seen months ago and eat you right here and now!

You were supposed to blend in and go unnoticed- after all, you were a low-ranked soldier and no one worthy to note. Yet, here was a warrior, walking towards you with an expression you couldn’t identify.

He stopped in front of you, his low and rough voice asking, “Isn’t it a little late to be reading the news?”

You lowered the newspaper and forced a friendly smile, “Just catching up on current events!” Your voice was supposed to sound cheerful, but it wavered in the middle of your sentence.

He didn’t smile back and a shiver shot up your spine as you finally recognized him from the many pictures you had been shown back in Paradis. This was Porco Galliard, the current holder of the Jaw Titan.

His eyes raked over you almost hungrily, taking in every detail. “You seem familiar,” he said softly, taking a step closer to where you sat on the bench, “Have we met before?”

You tried to think quickly, “Oh, I don’t think so. I just moved here recently.”

Porco’s eyes narrowed, “What’s your name?”

“(Y/n),” the name slipped out of your mouth before you could even think of lying.

“(Y/n),” he repeated, as though he were testing the sound of it on his tongue, “Nice to meet you, I’m Porco.”

He didn’t sound accusatory or angry, so you figured he hadn’t figured out who you were yet. You had to get away before he grew too suspicious, “Nice to meet you too. I should really get going. It’s getting dark.”

Porco’s hand shot out and grabbed your wrist firmly, “I think we should talk.”

Your heart stopped, “About what?”

He glanced around the empty square and his voice dropped to a whisper, “You’re from the island, aren’t you?”

You tried to pull your wrist free but his grip tightened, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

His hazel eyes softened, but his grip remained firm, “Don’t lie, I recognized you from the battle. You were there.”

Panic surged through you- your cover was completely blown and you were screwed, “Please, let me go.”

He shook his head slowly, a strange smile curling his lips, “No can do. You’re coming with me.”

He was on you in a flash, covering your mouth and pulling you down a side alley. The sky had darkened and no one was around. He was toned with the strength of a warrior and, despite you being stronger than the average girl, you were still at his mercy.

“Cooperate,” he grunted as you slammed your elbow into his chest, “Or I’ll turn you in as an island devil.”

You went limp in his hold, frustrated and helpless tears leaping to your eyes. This man could transform into a titan and swallow you whole or turn you in and let you be tortured for information, yet he didn’t seem to want to do either, so you reluctantly let him drag you down the streets. He led you to a small house and dragged you inside. It was empty, except for the two of you. 

He released your wrist and you turned on him, asking, “Why are you doing this? What do you want from me?”

Porco didn’t answer, instead moving to a nearby table and picking up the loaf of bread he had bought earlier. He tore it in half and offered it to you. “Eat, you’re probably hungry.”

You stared at him, “You just kidnapped me and you think I’m going to eat?”

He sighed and set the bread down on the table, “I’m not going to hurt you. I just need to understand.”

“Understand what?” you snorted, “Why I’m here? It’s because I’m a soldier. I’m on a mission.”

“That’s not what I mean,” he said, voice soft, “I need to know why I can’t get you out of my head.”

You blinked in surprise, then asked, “Are you going to let me go or turn me in?”

Porco looked up, a haunted expression on his face, “I really should turn you in, but I can’t.”

Curiosity flooded your mind, “Why not? I don’t understand.”

“I think…” Porco swallowed hard and looked away bashfully, “I think that I love you.”

You made a move for the door and he grabbed your wrist again. When he turned his face back to you, it was serious and hardened. A shudder ran down your spine.

“You’re not leaving. Not under my watch.”

[sinning-23]

Home (Zeke Jeager x Reader)

Warnings: None, domestic Zeke some fluf, father Zeke

found myself watching some AOT and i just think Zeke would try his best to be a good father and show his babies that he loves them. anyway

Enjoy~

______________________________________________________________

You hold your 1-year-old daughter, tucking her into her stroller as she sleeps, her little chest rises and falls slowly. Today, they would get to see their daddy after 4 long and rather grueling months.

You pull your shawl over the pretty floral picnic dress you sported before stepping out, locking your front door behind you.

It’s quiet around this time, the getting closer to setting as you’re bathes in it’s light glow.

Zeke had told you he’d be coming home today, so you thought it’d be nice to give him a bit of a surprise when he finally arrived.

The station was a bit busy, various people of all walks of life exiting and finding their loved ones as you simple wait, seeing out a head of blonde hair, glasses, and a beard you’d grown to love.

And sure enough there he was, adjusting his frames, his hand resting in his pocket. He finally meets your gaze, a rare smile soon grazing his features as you approach.

Your baby girl was wide awake now, her chunky caramel-colored hands reaching for her papa. She grows ever desperate, trying her best to push the safety straps away as she fusses, her father steps far too slow for her liking.

You chuckle in response, helping her out of the seat so that she could meet him halfway. Her little outfit matched yours, the itty bitty Mary Janes clicking against the stone walkway as she took quick and rather clumsy steps to her "ApApA", which she chanted over and over between giggles.

His smile only grows, your heart squeezing at the sight of your husband leaning down to pick up your baby girl, peppering her chunky cheeks with kisses as she pushes him away, the beard making her ticklish. It's no use though, he only holds up and blows raspberries on her tummy.

"You missed papa?" You hum, kissing her quick before doing the same to Zeke, your hand resting against his cheek. She babbles, her smile making her look just like her daddy.

"Me too." You answer, seeing your daughter rest her head on her father's shoulder, balling up her fist around a piece of his jacket.

[chatterbox-73]

Kinktober 2024.

Day 30 - Lay off the drinks.

Zeke Yeager x fem!Reader

This story is a smut story for Kinktober, I’ll be writing more characters x reader one shots for Kinktober and if you want to see a character please let me know...

You must be 18 years or older to read this...

🔞⚠️NO MINORS ALLOWED⚠️🔞

Summary: you get drunk and try to get with your friend Zeke, however he won’t take advantage of you like that, but it’s a different story the next day when you’re still trying to sex him up now that you’re sober.

Word count: 1.7k

CW: Modern AU, NSFW and adult content, mention of drinking drunk reader, cheating, unprotected sex, riding, and creampie

You staggered down the corridor of the large apartment building, hoping you were on the right floor, however soon you stop at a familiar door and lean against it. With your whole body pressed against the door, you knocked a few times and waited, you listened careful and heard heavy footsteps coming towards the door, before it opened too quickly for you to stand up, so you ended up falling into the person who opened the door. Your cheek was pressed against a hard pec and wrapped your arms around the person’s waist, “hello, it’s nice to see you too” you looked up to see Zeke Yeager, “good I made it to the right house” you slurred, while Zeke only chuckled and patted your head. “I love you my special tzatziki” you squeezed the bearded man’s butt and snuggled into his chest, “thank you y/n, but I’m afraid my girlfriend won’t like hearing you say that” Zeke laughed and you frowned at the mention of Zeke’s girlfriend, “I don’t care, screw Miss. Perfect… why’d you choose her?” You teared up and squeezed Zeke’s butt a little tighter, while he sighed “because you didn’t want me, and now I’m comfortable with what I have” he hummed and pushed the door closed. “Zeke can I stay here tonight? I don’t think I know how to get home” you sniffed as you wiped your nose on Zeke’s shirt, “alright but your on the couch, got it?” He pulled away and gave you a serious look, you nodded with a small pout.

You lied on the couch and Zeke laid a blanket over you, “goodnight y/n, go to sleep” he smiled and turned to leave, “WAIT! Goodnight kiss?” You asked with puckered lips, Zeke sighed and leaned down before kissing your cheek, “no! Here!” You frowned and pointed to your still puckered lips, he stopped to think for a moment before moving in to lightly kiss your lips. As Zeke moved away you grabbed the side of his face and pulled him in for another kiss this time much deeper then the last, let out a small whine as he pulled away “go to sleep” he gave you a stern look before going to his bedroom. You laid on your back look at the ceiling for 20 minutes before getting up and staggered to Zeke’s bed, you opened the door and the room was really dark however you could see the large lump in the bed, “Tzatziki, you awake?” You whispered as you crawled onto the bed, “yeah” he hummed “what do you want?” He rolled over to look at you. “Let have sex, raw sex… I wanna feel everything” you lifted off your shirt and bra, “what?!” Zeke exclaims as he sits up and grabs you shirt pushing it towards you, trying to get you to put it back on, “you heard me, or should I say it louder?… sex me up, monkey man!” You pulled your pants and underwear off. Zeke got up from the bed and watched as you ran a hand down your body towards your cunt, you used two fingers to spread your lower lips apart and than opened your legs as wide as they would, “stretch me up and fill me up… pretty please” you whined and Zeke gulped.

You groaned at the pounding sensation in your head as you slowly opened your eyes, you looked around and noticed you weren’t in your room, the realised you were in Zeke’s room. You vaguely remember going to Zeke’s apartments and that was it, you continued to look around the room only to find your clothes scattered everything along with Zeke’s clothing, instant panic filled your chest… did you come to Zeke’s place last night to confess your feelings for him and proceed to get it on, despite him being in a relationship. ‘Oh god did I ruin our friendship?’ you internally cried, “we didn’t do anything last night” Zeke said as he stepped into the room holding a plate of toast and a coffee, “it certainly doesn’t look that way” you groaned and pressed your face into a pillow, “have you even looked at yourself?” He sat on the bed and pulled the blanket off you, you jump up to cover yourself only to see that you were in fact wearing clothes, however you weren’t wearing them correctly. The pants you had on were on backwards and the drawstring on them was pulled far too tight, the shirt you had on was a white button down dress shirt, that was also on backwards and the sleeve to the shirt were tied together. You held up the sleeves and frowned “how did I not notice this? Why did you tie it?” You look at Zeke confused and he chuckled nervously, “you were a little out of control last night, so I had to make it impossible for you to undress yourself” he looked down at his lap and you gasped, “did I try something inappropriate?” You questioned and Zeke nodded.

“You crawled into my bed last night, only to undress and beg me to raw dog you… and you kept calling me Tzatziki” Zeke held a stern expression as he explained, your jaw dropped and you couldn’t believe you did something like that to your friend… sure you like Zeke more then a friend but that didn’t mean that what you did was alright because it wasn’t. “I’m so sorry, is there anything I can do to make it better” you look down in shame and Zeke chuckles, “honestly it’s fine, though I didn’t expect you to be so forward…” he laughed and you blushed before shaking your head, “I am actually very forward, even when I’m drunk” you sighed and he nodded, “wow, really!? I didn’t expect, but if I’m being honest in any other circumstance, I’d have fucked you on the spot last night but I’m not the kind of guy who takes advantage of drunk women” Zeke passed you the coffee mug, “your wouldn’t?” You asked surprised, “don’t be so surprised, I’m not as horrible as everyone thinks… look if a woman doesn’t want to sleep with me when she’s sober, then I’m not not sleeping with her when she’s drunk” he placed the toast in front of you, “now eat up” he hummed.

“Zeke if last night I was sober, would you have done it with me?” You asked sipping the last of your coffee, “yeah definitely and I was really close to giving in last night” he chuckled and grabbed the plate and coffee cup, “what about Yelena?” You asked and Zeke only shrugged, “what about her… look I’d never take advantage of a drunk woman, that doesn’t mean I’m above cheating” he stood and began walking to the door “besides I could kill a man and she’d for give me, that’s nothing I could doing that she wouldn’t forget” he left the room and you thought about Zeke’s words.

You walked out of the room to find Zeke drying the dishes, “Zeke if we had did it would you have told Yelena?” You asked and waiting impatiently for the answer, “nah, unless you wanted to keep hooking up after last night… anyways what with all these questions, it’s almost like you want me inside” he chuckled and winked while drying his hands off, “I do, I wanna do it… right now” you said and started trying to shimmy out of the clothes Zeke put you in. You manage to get the shirt off, before walking over to Zeke and standing now half naked in front of him, “it wasn’t just all talk right?” You grabbed his waistband “it wasn’t, I’ll fuck you” Zeke turned you around and undid the drawstring of the pants, you slipped the pants off and ran into Zeke’s room. Zeke followed you, only to find you, face down and ass up on his bed wanting for him “you cock tease” he groaned and he undress himself before getting on the bed, Zeke spat on you cunt before rubbing his saliva through your folds with his tip before pushing it in. Both you and Zeke moan, as he very slowly pushed all the way in “I would have prepared you but after last night and that little stunt you just pulled, I’m going all in” he groaned and started thrust at a relatively quiet pace, you nodded and moaned.

Zeke’s hands held your hips tightly as he thrust into you, the sounds coming from both you and Zeke seemed like a pair of animals going through a feeding frenzy, there were moans, groans, growls and squeals coming for the both of you as the bed rocked, “Take! Take it all!” He groaned through gritted teeth. Zeke suddenly sped up his pace and then instantly stopped, he pulled away and flipped you over onto your back, he then pushed back into you and began fucking you, however you managed you flip Zeke over onto his back. “What are you doing?” Zeke question as you began bouncing on his member, “you were making me too desperate to cum” you moaned and trailed a hand down to your clit, before you began rubbing it vigorously. Zeke groaned at the view and you felt yourself getting closer and closer, “oh fuck Zeke, I’m gonna cum” you cried out and quickly push yourself even further down on on him as you came, you rocked you hips as you felt Zeke cum as well.

After taking a moment to catch your breath, you leaned up and showed Zeke the mess he had made in you, by spreading your lower lips for him, he groaned as he watched his load dip out of you before quickly sitting up with a panicked look, “shit, I have to go get you the morning after pill” Zeke stood and all you could do was laugh. “What?” Zeke looked at you as he slipped on his pants, “I have an IUD” you laughed and laid on your back as Zeke grumbled about how you should have say that earlier.

Kinktober Masterlist

Day 29 - Shikamaru Nara: Not quite yet.

Day 31 - Tenya Iida: A well deserved treat.

[criminalcinnamon]

BAKING (a nocozekiel oneshot)

I thought I'd write something more fluff-y after finishing the jacnoah fic, so here's that!

Sun streamed through the windows of the kitchen as Ezekiel tied on his apron. Cody was sitting at the kitchen table, leaning back on the chair while he looked up recipes in a cook book, and Noah was finding all the ingredients.

"This looks like a good one." Cody said as he showed Zeke a recipe he'd found for cupcakes. "Seems easy enough." He shrugged.

"Alright, eh. Noah? Can you get the flour?"

"Alrighty." Noah grabbed the flour and placed it on the counter.

Zeke grabbed the equipment while Cody grabbed the rest of the ingredients.

"What the hell is caster sugar?"

"Something we don't have." Noah rolled his eyes and leaned against the counter. "We'll have to use regular sugar."

"Same thing, eh."

Cody turned on the oven, setting it a bit too high, while Noah grabbed the cupcake cases and tossed them to Zeke, accidentally hitting him in the eye.

"Shit. You okay?" Noah bent down to Zeke's height.

"Yeah. I'm fine, homie."

Noah chuckled. "Can you put the cupcake cases in the baking tray, 'homie'?"

Zeke nodded and did as Noah said.

"So..." Cody said while mixing the batter, "how was all of your weekends?"

"Cody we live together, we had the same weekend." Noah sighed.

"Right!" Cody fiddled with his wooden stirring spoon.

"Hey Noah, no need to be harsh on him, eh, he was just trying to make conversation!"

"Alrighty, sorry," Noah leaned against the counter, "just tired."

"You really need more sleep man." Cody put the bowl down and ruffled Noah's hair.

Noah yawned. "I'll take over the stirring."

Before anyone could interject, Noah picked up the bowl and started stirring. It didn't take long for them to be finished and soon they were pouring the batter into the cases and putting them into the over, leaving more time to talk.

"We should watch a movie while we eat these!" Cody grinned, jumping up and down slightly.

"Oooh, what movie?"

"Let's watch Star Wars." Noah piped up.

"Woah, I didn't know you liked that kinda shit."

Noah shrugged. "It's not bad, and I know you like them so, why not?"

"I've never seen Star Wars, eh."

"Really? They're SO good. We have to watch ALL of the original trilogy!!!" Cody grinned, tapping the counter excitedly.

"Oh god, don't get him started, he'll yap forever."

And that's exactly what Cody did. He was STILL taking when they took the cupcakes out of the oven and started icing them with the buttercream they bought from the store.

"Noah?" Zeke waved his hand in front of Noah's face, Noah was zoning out as he listened to Cody, just staring at him starry-eyed.

"Huh?" Noah shook his head, snapping out of his daze.

"You were staring at Cody again."

"Right." Noah pinched the bridge of his nose. "You almost done icing?"

"We finished five minutes ago." Zeke clarified as he watched Cody rush to the living room with the cupcakes.

"Movie time!" Cody called out excitedly, hopping from foot to foot as he stared at the two.

Soon they were all sitting on the couch, wrapped up in a big, fluffy blanket. Noah had the tray of cupcakes on his lap so Cody wouldn't immediately eat them all - especially since he loved sugar - so Cody had to deal with the DVD. Cody tapped his foot on the ground as he slid the DVD into the DVD player before laying back on the couch.

Ezekiel smiled and nuzzled against Noah, who was sitting in the middle. Zeke had his eyes glued to the screen, not wanting to miss any detail, Noah lightly nudged Zeke.

"You have to blink, you know." Noah grinned as Zeke looked at him with wide eyes before blinking slowly, making Noah laugh.

Cody started whispering stuff like "it's getting to the good part now!" to Zeke, who was starting to fall asleep.

"He's cute when he's tired." Cody cooed.

"Yeah, he is."

"Oh shit, the cupcakes must be cold now."

"Goddamnit." Noah muttered as he picked up a cupcake and took a bite, discovering that it was, indeed, cold. Cody snickered, letting his head fall against Noah's shoulder.

"I can't believe you didn't fall asleep first."

"Me neither," Noah sighed, "we should get to bed, shouldn't we?"

"Yeah."

"Who's gonna carry Zeke?"

"Not it!" Cody grinned and tapped his nose.

Noah rolled his eyes. "Of course."

Noah dumped Zeke on the bed before grabbing his pyjamas and going to the bathroom to change, leaving Cody and Ezekiel alone. Cody smiled down at the sleeping boy, he still had his hat on too. Cody wondered what he was dreaming about. He gently rested his hand on Zeke's head.

"You STILL haven't changed, huh?" Noah smirked and looked down at Cody.

"Huh? Oh yeah, right." Cody got up. "Don't look man!" Noah nodded and looked away as Cody changed.

"Should we wake Zeke up?" Cody asked as he sat down on the bed in his boxers.

"Probably. He can't sleep in his dirty farm clothes."

Noah shook Zeke awake, who slowly opened his eyes and looked up at Noah, smiling.

"You gotta change, man." Cody held out Zeke's pyjamas to him.

Eventually, they ended up snuggled up in bed next to eachother, Noah had ended up in the middle, with Zeke clinging to him like a koala. Cody had his arms loosely wrapped around Noah. It might've been the most comfort Noah had ever experienced. And it was perfect.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hey gang I hope you like this :33333 It's supposed to be way more simple than the jacnoah fic, but I had a GREAT time writing it.

[jelliezellie]

ooo~, how about a postwar Levi and Reader fic where they live together and secretly love each other but they are afraid to confess. they don't even know how. maybe they go out on a "date" (aka just walking around town in Marley, shopping, going to the park and secretly admiring each other) andddd... I literally have no idea 😬 I'm sorry, I tried

A/N: I love this <3 It sounds so cute! I’m pretty sure that Levi spends his time with Gabi, Falco, and Onyankopon after he loses the use of his legs so I put them in here. I hope this is good enough for your request. And I'm sorry it took so long, I've had a lot of requests and not a lot of time to write them. Thanks!

Dates in Marley

You and Levi sat together, eating the breakfast that Gabi and Falco made. They were often impudent brats, as Levi described them, but you found them to be friendly enough. You jolted every time the door to your shared house opened. It was always Gabi and Falco (sometimes Onyankopon to apologize for the intrusion) and each time, you let them in. They all seemed to care about Levi just as much as you did, making him breakfast in bed and teasing him a little too much about his condition. 

He pretended to hate the banter, but if they didn’t visit for a few days, he’d ask where they were.

“Levi,” Falco exclaimed, sitting with you two, “tell us again—what was the scariest abnormal titan you faced? Other than Zeke and Eren, of course.”

Levi glared at him, rolling his eyes. “I hate repeating myself.”

“Just tell us!” Gabi exclaimed.

You listened in carefully, excited to hear about his war stories whenever he was willing to tell them. When he looked at you, listening intently, he sighed in defeat. “Zeke was the worst titan I went up against. I already told you. It took three tries to kill him.”

“Okay, but what about another titan? One we don’t know?” Gabi pressed.

Levi rolled his eyes. “There was one… significantly annoying one. Rod Reiss—he was bigger than the Colossus Titan, and he only ever crawled around. He was too big and his legs were too weak. But,” he paused, glancing at you to see your excited face, “when he arrived at the Orvud District, he had rubbed off his ribs and face. His titan organs spilled out and it was disgusting.”

Falco shuddered in revulsion, sliding his plate of waffles away. “I lost my appetite…”

Gabi, on the other hand, seemed enthralled. Her eyes were wide and she grinned, nodding excitedly. “And? How’d you kill him?”

“My squad, at the time, cut off his hands. Eren shoved gunpowder barrels into his mouth and he exploded.”

Your jaw dropped. “What?!”

He nodded. “Yeah. We managed to kill him, though.”

Gabi and Falco spoke to each other excitedly, discussing the event they just learned about. 

There was a knock at the door and you sprung from your seat, opening it. Onyankopon greeted you with a smile. “Good morning, Y/n. May I come in?”

“Of course! Gabi and Falco are just over there—”

“Actually, I wanted to speak with you.” He pulled you aside and Levi’s head snapped back to the two of you before looking back at the kids. Onyankopon smiled. “Levi hasn’t been outside in a while. I was hoping you could take him to the shopping district while I take Gabi and Falco out to the fair. He needs some time away from them, I think.”

You smiled, your cheeks turning pink. “I mean, I’d love to go shopping with him, but I’m afraid it’ll be awkward.”

“Why’s that?” he teased. Onyankopon knew about your feelings for Levi. You talked about him far too much and when Onyankopon asked, you told him how you felt. “I’m kidding,” he said, nudging you as your face turned red, “just take Levi out. Maybe he feels the same.”

You scoffed. “I doubt it…”

“Go.”

When you turned around, Levi was staring at you from the table. He quickly looked away and gave his plate to Falco so he’d wash it. You sighed, approaching Levi. “Hey, let’s go shopping.”

“What?”

“You haven’t been outside in forever. C’mon, it’ll be fun.” 

With little protest, he rolled his chair to you. You grabbed the handles to the back of it and started pushing him out the door. “What are we shopping for?” He asked, looking up at you.

“Whatever we want.” He grunted, squinting as you left the house. The sun shone down on you and you stared up at the fluffy clouds against the blue sky. You smiled. “See, Levi? It’s a beautiful day out. We’ll have fun.”

“Right.”

You grinned and sped up, hurrying to the market. A big fountain made of marble leaked water out of the top. Shopping stands were everywhere and you couldn’t help but inhale the smell of lobster. “So, what do you want to do first? Clothes shopping? Food?”

He sighed. “Let’s go look at the clothes, I guess.” You rolled him to a stand with dresses, suits, and other fancy clothes. You didn’t miss the smile that appeared on his face when you picked up an elegant-looking piece of clothing and held it to your body. 

“How do I look?”

Levi cleared his throat, looking away. “Good. You look,” he paused, his eyes flickering to you. “You look really good.”

Your face turned red and you put it back on the hanger. “Do you see any clothes you like?”

He thought for a moment. “If they have a suit that matches that.” He replied, pointing to the article of clothing you had. “I like the colors…” he mumbled, but the pink on his cheeks didn’t lie. 

You smiled and found a suit that matched the colors of the clothes you found. Levi gave you a brief nod, biting back a smile as you grinned and bought the clothes. He shoved some money in your pocket and you pretended not to notice. You had to or else he’d insist on paying you. 

Next, you saw a stand offering ice cream. “Do you want some ice cream?”

“God, no. It’s so cold… Food is meant to be hot.”

“Alright,” you mumbled, chuckling at his pickiness. “Oh!” You pointed at a small shop with a teacup out front. “It looks like they sell tea. Do you want to go there?” 

He looked up at you. “You realize tea isn’t the only thing I like, right? I have hobbies. I have things I could be doing.”

“But you like tea, so we’re going to the tea shop,” you chirped, rolling him inside. He groaned and rolled his eyes, but you didn’t miss the way they lit up when all of the different aromas flooded his senses. He looked around, trying not to make it obvious that he found the shop fascinating. “Oh, they have samples—” He rolled his chair away before you could finish speaking and tried a cup of Marleyan tea. 

You followed him with a smile. “Do you like it?”

Levi looked up at you. “It’s… alright. Black tea is better.” His eyes lingered on some teacups and you followed his gaze. 

“Do you want those?”

“No.” He’s a poor liar. You smiled softly as his head turned but his eyes stayed on the cups. You picked up two. 

“Well, I want them.” You paid for the cups and they were wrapped and placed delicately in a box, then a bag. You smiled and handed them to Levi. His cheeks were tinted pink as he pulled a cup out and examined it. You tilted your head. “Is there a reason why you like fancy teacups so much?”

He hesitated as his hand traced over the simple design. “When I was growing up, we didn’t have teacups.”

“You’re that old?” You teased.

“No!” He snapped. “I had poor living conditions. But when I finally got my hands on a real teacup, I couldn’t believe it. So, I held it,” he picked up the cup in the strange way he always did, struggling a bit with his missing fingers, “and drank from it like that.”

You smiled and rested your chin on his head, looking down at the cup in his lap. “Then I’ll find more fancy teacups for you.”

His smile grew a little. This time, he didn’t suppress it.

“Where to next?” You asked as you left the shop. 

He was staring past the market, at a park with a few small benches that looked out at the sea. You grinned and took him there, sitting with him. Seagulls squawked over you two as you sat in comfortable silence, holding the empty cups and watching the waves crash. 

“You were right,” Levi murmured. You tilted your head and looked at him. His silver eyes reflected the sun so perfectly—you could stare at them all day. “It was fun.”

You grinned and nudged him. “See? I told you, Marley can be fun.”

“It wasn’t Marley that was fun,” he muttered, clenching his fist. “It was you. You were fun. You took me clothes shopping and to a stupid tea shop and to this stupid, amazing park.” He returned your gaze. “And here I am, with stupid, amazing you.”

You couldn’t fight the blush that came to your face as you tried to respond, but nothing came out. Levi looked out at the sea again. “It’s pretty—the sea.”

“Isn’t it?” You replied, still processing his compliment(?) from his last statement.

His hand rested over yours. “I want to look at the sea with you more often.” 

“Me too,” you murmured, scooting closer. 

“The sea looks prettier when you’re here,” he said, turning to you with pink cheeks. “Y/n, I want to come here every day with you.”

Your eyes widened. “What?”

“I like,” he paused, trying to get the words out. “I love you. And I know I don’t show it and I know I roll my eyes and I’m rude, but I—”

You cut him off by pressing your lips against his gently. It only lasted for a moment, but God, he could have sworn he saw his entire life flash before his eyes, every moment leading up to you. 

And from the distance, you were fairly sure you heard two kids exclaiming and laughing when you kissed, along with a too-polite man trying to calm them down.

[angelasscribbles]

Single Again

Series: None, this is a one-shot and you can find those here.

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairing: Riley x Liam (end game)

Rating: G

Warnings for this chapter: Lots of divorces.

Word Count: 2,171

A/N: Had a song rewrite idea and decided to whip it up even though the event is officially over. @choicesprompts

My other stuff: Master List.

The loud clack-clack of a pair of nine hundred dollar Louis Vuitton red bottom heels echoed through The Crown Room, the formal dining area of the Ocean Side Polo Club.

Heads swung up to watch the sensuous sway of the woman’s hips as she followed the maître d’. Head up, chin out, Riley ignored the men’s salacious looks and the women’s glances and whispers.

Kiara leaned across the table to hiss at her luncheon companions, “What is she doing here? I thought the Beaumonts declined the invitation to watch this year’s charity match.”

“They did!” Penelope replied. “Bertrand is out of the country on business and Max said he had a personal matter to attend to.”

“So what?” Olivia chimed in. “A woman can’t attend an event without her husband?”

“She can,” Kiara shook her head, “But she rarely does.”

“Because they know they have to guard her!” Penelope let an uncharacteristic amount of venom lace her words. “She seduces men everywhere she goes!”

Oliva laughed as she pushed the rice pilaf around her plate. “You’re just mad she snatched Max right out from under you.”

Penelope stiffened, and then an insincere smile crossed her face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Zeke and I are very happy together.”

“Sure… now.” Olivia rolled her eyes.

“She certainly doesn’t understand boundaries,” Kiara interjected. “Drake and I had two perfectly good dates. I was expecting a call to schedule the third and the next thing I knew, he was eloping with that Jezebel to Bora Bora!”

Oliva smirked. “Well, Drake has been back on the market for a while, and from the looks of it, Maxwell is about to be as well.”  

“What?” Penelope jerked her head back around to see what was going on.

Riley had just been joined by Rashad Faheem.

“So?” Penelope wasn’t following. “He’s her first ex-husband, right?”

“Yes,” Olivia affirmed. “And also, her lawyer.”

Penelope’s eyes widened. “She could just be catching up with an ex.”

“Non!” Kiara bounced in her seat excitedly. “He handled her divorce from Drake.”

“Oh! Penelope’s hands flew up to cover her mouth. Not that she cared if Max was single. “How many husbands has she divorced now? Four? Five?”

Kiara lowered her voice conspiratorially. “I heard she was secretly married to the king’s older brother!”

Olivia’s eyes cut sharply to Kiara. “If she was, it was an ill-advised mistake that was quickly corrected!”

“Oh!” Kiara grinned at the redhead. “You know something. Spill!”

“Like I would tell you if I did.” Olivia glanced back across the room to see Riley flipping through a sheaf of papers. Rashad leaned in close to her as he pointed out things on the pages. He leaned even closer and whispered something into her ear.

Riley touched his arm as her laugh rang out across the room.

“Oh yeah.” Olivia shook her head, “She’s about to be single again. Better hold onto to Zeke.”

“What?” Penelope’s eyes went wide with panic.

Kiara patted her arm. “Olivia is just teasing you. Zeke loves you.”

“Sure he does,” Olivia said dismissively as she rose. She could care less who Riley set her sights on next. She was secure in her relationship. “Let me impart a little wisdom to you harpies. If another woman can take your man from you, he was never yours.”

Olivia walked away before either of the other women could respond. She gave a polite nod to Riley as she passed her table.

Riley nodded back with a genuine smile. She liked Olivia. Mostly she liked that Olivia never seemed to judge her like the rest of the women at court.

It wasn’t her fault that she’d had more than her fair share of men. Very few people at court knew the truth about any of her marriages or bothered to give her a benefit of a doubt. No, it was much easier to villainize and look down on her.

The maître d’ approached the table and handed her a folded note. She read it quickly and then tucked it into her bag with a smile.

She reached across the table and took Rashad’s hand with a little squeeze. “Thank you for always being there for me.”

“Of course, Ya Amara.”

She blushed slightly at the old term of endearment.

He helped her to her feet and brushed his lips lightly across her cheek when it was time for them to part. Riley would always have a special place in his heart, but he had a date to get to.

Riley was greeted by a guard at the door to the restaurant. “Right this way, Your Grace.”

“Thank you, Marco.” She took his arm and let him lead her out to the polo fields. “How have you been?”

“Can’t complain.” He grinned at her. “I’ve missed seeing your face around the palace.”

“You might be seeing me a little bit more now.”

“I hope so.” He stopped outside the king’s private box. “You’re good for him, you know. He’s happier when you’re around.”

“I’m happier when I’m around him.” She giggled before waving goodbye to the guard and ducking into the box.

The king of Cordonia was on his feet immediately. “Riley, you came!”

“Of course, I came, my king!”

They embraced but separated quickly. Experience had taught them that a camera could be anywhere.

Liam gestured toward a chair as he told her, “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you, too.”

“You met with Rashad?”

“I did.” Her divorce from Max was finalized.

His eyes traced her face. “I’ll always be indebted to him for bringing you into my life, you know.”

Riley threw her head back and laughed. It was a velvety, rich sound and it came from deep down inside. When she was done, she tilted her head back down and shook it side to side. “Even though when I met you, I was married to him?”

“Even so.” Liam nodded happily. “It was an arranged marriage. You weren’t in love with him.”

“No. Nor him, I.” What they had formed was a deep affection for each other and a friendship. So, when she had fallen in love with another, he had graciously let her go.

With a hefty settlement.

That was when the rumors of her gold-digging started. She had tried to decline taking anything since she was the one asking to break their marriage contract, but Rashad had insisted that she should be compensated for putting up with his late hours, and his inability to fully commit to the marriage or her.

But the council had refused to green-light a royal marriage to a divorcée.

Liam leaned close to her with a wicked grin. “If your marriage to my brother didn’t dissuade me in my pursuit of you, nothing will my lady.”

Riley laughed again with another shake of her head. “Oh, no, that…that was….”

She had found Leo drunk in a Cordonian nightclub days after being thrown over by some woman on a cruise ship. His drunken heartbreak had matched her own that night.

One thing had led to another with Leo, and they had woken up in Monaco the next day, married.

They had realized it was a horrible mistake the moment they were both sober. Liam had made the matter disappear.

“That marriage barely counted,” she reminded him, “You had it annulled within hours.”

“Of course I did.” He would move heaven and earth for her. His face fell serious as the mention of her day-long marriage to Leo reminded them both of her marriage to Drake. She had only been in that bar that night because she’d had her own sorrows to drown, her divorce from Drake having been finalized earlier that day.

That one had hurt.

The only husband she had actually loved. But they both knew why that marriage had failed.

Liam reached discreetly for her hand. “Riley, I’m sorry.”

“Stop. It wasn’t your fault. I’ve told you a million times.”

Liam had married Madeleine and not wanting to be someone’s mistress, Riley had forced herself to move on, but her feelings for Drake had never been fake or secondary to her feelings for Liam. She had counted herself lucky to have found love again. But Drake’s insecurities and jealousy eventually soured the relationship.

“I feel like I didn’t hide my feelings for you well enough.”

“It shouldn’t have mattered. I was never anything but faithful to him. He should have trusted me.”

Her marriage to Drake should have quashed the rumors that she was a gold digger, but everyone had assumed she was using him to stay close to Liam.

Unfortunately, Drake himself had chosen to believe that. And though she hadn’t cared about money, he had constantly compared himself to both Rashad and Liam and found himself lacking.

It hadn’t helped that Liam had made her a duchess and given her Valtoria right after the divorce from Drake. He had done it to give her a place of her own to go to. She hadn’t wanted to run back to the palace and give any weight to the rumors that she and the king were still romantically entwined.

Giving her a duchy, however, had ramped the rumors up to a fever pitch and convinced Drake that he had been right all along.

“How is Max doing?” Liam asked, mostly to change the subject.

The mention of her best friend put the smile back on her face. “Oh, he’s great! He’s on a ski weekend in Aspen with Carson.”

Riley’s marriage to Max had been undertaken to satisfy some weird codicil in his father’s will that he be married to inherit.

Last month, his father’s estate had finally been settled. Max had taken possession of the money left to him along with a lavish townhouse in Dunwich.

The day after the estate had been finalized, they had initiated divorce proceedings.

“I’m glad Max is happy. Can I ask a favor of you, Riley?”

“What is it?”

“Stop getting married to other people.”

A surprised laugh burbled out of her. “What?”

“You heard me. Give a guy a chance.”

“Liam! You’re married! You know how I feel about—"

“Yes, I do. I have something for you. Stay right here!” Liam looked like a kid on Christmas morning as he stepped to the door of the box and murmured something to his head of security. The guard handed him a large manilla envelope and Liam quickly returned to his seat and with the closest thing to a gloat Riley had ever seen on his face, thrust it into her hands.

“What’s this?” She looked curiously from him to the envelope.

“Open it!” He encouraged.

“Okay…” she laughed as she flipped the top open and then pulled the document out. Her eyes widened with a gasp when she realized what she was holding in her hands. “Liam! Is this real?”

“Yes, my love, it’s real. You’re the first person, outside the lawyers, of course, to know about the dissolution of the marriage of the king and queen.”

She glanced back and forth from him to the divorce decree in her hands, unsure what it meant for them. “How is this possible? The council—”

“The council answers to me. Not the other way around.” Liam’s jaw clenched. He had been young and uncrowned when he and Riley had first met. Still under his father’s thumb and more easily influenced by the rules, protocols, and traditions. He had grown over the years into a true king. He had learned how to rule, and his father was now nothing more than a memory. He would no longer be bound by arbitrary and pointless regulations. He could rule Cordonia and still be happy.

His expression softened as his eyes roamed her face. He angled his body toward her, completely oblivious to whatever was going on out on the polo field. Taking her hands in his, he asked, “You know what this means, right?”

“What?” She held her breath. Afraid to hope for what she was hoping for.

“It means we’re finally single at the same time. And this time, I will not be swayed from your side. Not ever again. Come here.” He stood and helped her out of her seat, pulling her across the room to a corner not visible from the outside. “I wanted to do this somewhere romantic. Somewhere meaningful, but I can’t wait.”

“What are you doing, Liam?”

“What I should have done four years ago.” He dropped down to one knee and held a ring up to her. “Lady Riley Brooks, queen of my heart, I have yearned to say these four words for a very, very long time……..will you marry me?”

“Yes!” She didn’t even have to pause to think about it. “Yes! A million times yes!”

He slid the ring on her finger and then jumped to his feet. “Finally!” He cried as he swept her into his arms and spun her around.

She was single again. But not for long.

[lemmetreatya]

Rent-A-Boyfriend — Zeke Jaeger x fem!Reader

synopsis: You need — a boyfriend who can trick your friends into thinking your love life isn’t inept. You receive — Zeke Jaeger, a man who’d do pretty much anything for a bit of cash and a night out

warnings: none

“Heeeey, baby.”

With a saccharine smile, Zeke waltz into the small VIP section where you and your friends were currently sat.

Instantly you get up to greet him, the smile on your face wide, but the blonde didn’t give you a chance to greet him back.

“Ahh! Zeke, He—”

Unexpectedly, Zeke wields his arm behind you to grab a handful of your ass. You let out a squeak in retaliation as he uses the momentum to pull you closer so that he could land a hot kiss to your lips — as if the action just couldn’t wait until you were both within more private confinements.

In reaction, your girlfriends make various noises behind you; some of surprise and some of neutral judgment.

Once you pull away with a breathless sigh and wide open eyes, your hands automatically find their way to the plane of his chest.

“Well, hello to you too.” You finally cheese.

But alas, your smile matches his own, and you’re more than enamoured that’d he’d be this affectionate with you in public — just as you both planned.

From behind, you hear one of your friends speak up.

”So this be him, huh? Your ‘Zachary’ man?”

Both you and the blonde share a look.

Seeing as your back was to your friends you mouth a quick ‘sorry’ to him, but before you could retaliate, Zekes poking his head pass the side of you so that he could give your friend a pearly white practiced smile.

“Uh, well. Funnily enough, it’s actually short for Ezekiel?”

His tone wasn’t (that) condescending. If anything you think he was a tad bit too nice. But concerning how there was a dead stare from the other girls and not a lick of response, Zeke thought to back track his words.

“Buuuut I’ll take Zachary. Sure.”

The mood is still slightly stale, and you can hear some of the girls upwardly clear their throats. Internally you start to panic because God, were things really going wrong already?! However, being the perceptive man he was, Zeke notices your uneasy attitude and therefore tries his best to alleviate it.

"Hey. How about I get us some drinks, huh? Liven you girls up a bit. We all a fan of fun stuff?!"

A preppy chorus of 'yeah's, 'sures' and 'why nots' echo around the table, but it's you that Zeke looks down at for confirmation. With a thankful expression you nod in permit of his suggestion.

"Yeah, that sounds great, Zeke. Thank you."

Zeke buggers off towards the bar in order to get the shots whilst you easily welcome yourself back down at the table. But as soon as you sit, your friends hunch inwards with giddy expressions.

”You know, I’ve got to give it to you. I really thought you were lying out your ass when you said you had a man.”

A few of the other girls hum in agreeal but you can’t help but feel a twang taut at your heart. If only they really knew.

“Right! Now look at you, pulling all Mister Zack and shit!” Says another.

“It’s Zeke.” You find yourself saying.

The girl dismisses your comment as she rolls her eyes. You can only let out an awkward laugh before shuffling backwards into your booth seat.

Once Zeke comes back with several shots between his fingers balanced under two plates of limes, the table erupts with whoops.

“Alright!” He encourages.

The blonde places the drinks onto the table and your friends all take at one. Zeke takes two from the lot and hands you one of them.

“For you, mi lady.”

The limes are passed round and the tables buzzing at the sudden kindness of your newly met boyfriend. Seeing their happy faces made you pleased and so you easily leaned back to thank Zeke, your words sounding like a whisper over the pumping music.

“You didn’t have to get them the drinks.”

Rather than turning in your direction, Zeke’s eyes keep track of the lime plate that’s coming his way. His hand closest to you easily finds your thigh as he squeezes it in solidarity.

“It’s no problem. They looked like they needed to loosen up so I thought ‘why not?’”

An easy smile danced over your lips as you bumped your arm next to his.

“But still, thank you for buying them.”

“Oh. No, you needn’t thank me.” Zeke picks up a lime before passing you the last one. “It’s not like I brought the drinks with my own money, I just used your card that I slipped out your back pocket.”

A shock passes over you, so much so that you accidentally drop your lime into your lap.

“I—Wh, what?!”

“Bottoms up, ladies!” He suddenly shouts.

Zeke is quick to clink his shotglass against those of your friends. The other woman, unbeknownst to the information you just got landed with, cheer in accordance with the blonde man as they all take their shots. You back your drink with a delay, your mind still processing Zeke’s audacity.

The familiar fuzzy burn down your throat wasn’t comforting but it was enough to distract you from everything that’d been difficult so far.

Zeke makes a squeezed face at the sizzle of the lime before turning his head towards you, his lips only about ghosting over the shell of your ear.

“You should really mind what you put in your back pockets. Any sick fuck who’d happen to get their hands on this could really drain your account.” The blonde waves your bank card in your face before placing it on the table in front of you.

Whether he was being serious or not, you couldn’t tell but something about his words rubbed you the wrong way.

Your friends looked on with googly eyes, seemingly thinking that Zeke was saying something risqué in your ear. Not wanting to possibly give yourself away, you distract yourself by trying to smudge lime juice out of your jeans.

“And you should really mind who’s money you spend because who knows if they’ll end up plotting your demise?” You mumble.

Zeke only smirks reservedly. Despite being a heavyweight, it seems like the affects of the singular shot was already doing it’s work. You wonder if he pregamed?

“You wiiiiish.” He says teasingly with a low voice as his mouth finally latches onto the shell of your ear with a soft bite.

It didn’t hurt, but not expecting the action, you jumped away.

“What the hell?!” You screech below your breath.

Your girls jump along with you — clear confirmation that their eyes were on you both — but the pull away was too suspicious to explain. Not knowing what to say or do to try and lighten the situation, your hand tugs onto the sleeve of Zeke’s top.

“Uhh. Let’s…let’s dance. Let’s go dance.”

Giving you a credulous yet giddy look, the blonde’s eyes wash all over your body. Even whilst getting up his eyes are still on you, and part of you wonders how much of him being your date for tonight he was taking for granted.

“If you say so.” He snorts.

As you pull him by his arm, Zeke makes a damselly ‘oh!’ sound before he’s wiggling his eyebrows over at your friends and causing the lot of them to childishly woo. It only makes you scoff more as you pull him away from the group.

Squeezing between a few bodies, you plugged the both of you in a nice enough spot that meant you were still in view of your friends but not too squashed up against others.

The music pumps much louder over on this side of the venue and so you have to wince for awhile in order to adjust to the volume. However, once you do, you wrap your arms up around Zeke’s neck in gruff gesture.

Automatically, Zeke’s hands are on your waist and that sleazy smile of his is back on his face.

”Never took you for the dancing type?” He says into one of your ears and you have to force yourself not to roll your eyes.

“I’m not.”

At your words, Zeke’s hands start to rub against the small of your back. You subconsciously have to remember everything that could possibly be in your back pockets — not wanting to be a victim of theft a second time — but once you realise it’s just a lip balm, you relax a bit.

As he leans in closer, you could smell the light scent of alcohol that still clung to his tongue.

“Then why’d you pull me out here? Tryna get away from your girlypops?”

You lightly tread atop of the man’s toe. It was an accident but you definitely weren’t sorry.

“Shut up, Zeke.” You hiss. “This isn’t about them, this is about your behaviour.”

Zeke briefly pulls back to give you a credulous look, his hand briefly flying to his chest. If being a fake boyfriend wasn’t enough, he should definitely go into acting, you think.

“My behaviour? Oh no. Is my performance poor?”

“Poor? Not so much. Agitating? Entirely.” You mumble.

The both of you continue to dance tightly against each other. You’re sure anyone looking from the outside would think there was a passion between you both but you definitely know that wasn’t the case on your side of things.

With your mouth close to his ears, you bend him in forwards by the nape of his neck.

“In all truthfulness, Zeke, you’re pissing me off. I know you’re doing this as a favour, a help-out for one of your brother’s ‘little friends’, but you’ve got to take this seriously.”

Zeke sighs but simultaneously brings his hands down to hook over your ass.

“How much more serious about this do you want me to be? Because according to your girls, I’m doing a stellar job.”

With a comedic twist, Zeke turns round so that he could wave back to the table where your friend’s sat. All of them whooped and hollered in retaliation which only pissed you off even more.

Kneeing him brought his attention back to you.

“Ow!”

“Zeke, I’m being for real!” You seethe.

A scoff leaves the man’s throat but his hands are back on your ass and his cheek flat against your temple.

“And I don’t doubt that you aren’t, my love. But I think that’s the issue — you’re taking this too seriously.”

You know this relationship was supposed to be fake but you really believe this man was trying to fuck you over by being as overbearing as he could. You wriggle within his grasp, attempting to alleviate some space between you both but the blonde only squishes you against him more.

A loud groan leaves your mouth but Zeke playfully taps your ass to make sure you understood his heed.

“Come on, don’t be like this. If you continue being this anal your friends are gonna know somethings up so I suggest you keep your cool and act the part.”

Another groan left your mouth but because you had somewhat accepted that the man was speaking facts.

After all, you hired Zeke on the basis that you’d be able to convince your friends your love life wasn’t as bad as they made it out to be. The last thing you wanted was them pairing you up on blind dates again with the many incompatible options they thought would suit you.

With resignation, your body intensity relaxed into Zeke’s embrace. The man was able to feel you give in before you said it.

“Ugh, fine. Whatever.”

You could feel the vibrate of the hum Zeke made through his chest so you knew he was appeased with his slight win over you. But you couldn’t let him have that — you needed him to know he still wasn’t doing everything right.

“Also, you don’t have to use petnames when it’s just the two of us.”

“I know.” He smugly chirps.

And you sigh because even though you can’t see his face, you could only guess the one he had on.

Surprisingly to you, Zeke does fix up for the rest of the night. Well, sort of.

He doesn’t spend anymore of your money or steals your card. He does at one stage brazenly ask if you could buy him a bowl of peanuts but you give him a look that ceases his ask.

He steals your lip balm. Which, actually, you weren’t too annoyed about because he only did so once you’d told him his lips were unbelievably dry after he tried to kiss your neck.

Apart from those various things, Zeke was fine. The night had gone reasonably smooth and best of all — your friends had brought the schtick!

“Alright, boo. Make sure you get home safe, okay?”

Your friend kisses both of your cheeks with excessive mwahs. She wordlessly pats Zeke on the shoulder before getting into the uber that had just arrived. You make a small finger-to-palm gestures to her in order to bid her farewell. Zeke only nods.

Your other friends wave as they pile into the uber, a chorus of ‘byes’ singing throughout the night.

“I’ll text you when we get in.” Another friend gives you a side hug before blowing a kiss as walks to the passenger side of the uber seat. Whilst in transit, she waves to Zeke.

“It was nice meeting you, Zake!” She shouts before getting into the car.

Both you and Zeke play the part as you wave at the uber. Smiles wide as you watch the car pull off and around the corner. Once it’s out of sight, your acts are dropped and you both turn to each other in seriousness.

As you dig into your purse, Zeke’s already got a cigarette in his mouth as he brings the lighter to his face.

“A hundred, right?”

Zeke nods.

You count the money to the side, although you already know you had the right amount since you checked it before you left home. Once you counted it thrice, you reluctantly hand the money in Zeke’s direction.

Before you could even think about reconsidering the amount, the blonde snags the wad from you without thanks. He gingerly counts the amount in front of you, cigarette lodged between his lips as he focuses on the value of the money.

With a sigh, you defensively shrug your shoulders.

“What, you don’t trust my counting?”

Zeke makes a weird noise before ticking his head to the side and sucking in a sharp breath.

“Can’t lie, for what I had to put up with tonight? You’re gonna have to add in an extra forty.”

“An extra forty?!” You almost screech. “For what?!”

Zeke glances at you before looking upwards towards the night sky. A small hum leaves his throat in contemplation before he removes the cigarette from his mouth and looks back down at you again.

“I’ve been called everything but my actual name tonight. You know that kinda stuff can cause identity dysmorphia, right?”

It was so obvious he was pulling that out of his ass. And considering how he’d been spending your money tonight, you’re surprised at the sheer audacity of his ask.

“But how is that my fault? It’s them who couldn’t get it right, not me.”

Shaking his head, Zeke folds his arms over his chest. He takes a puff of his cigarette through the side of his mouth, all without the use of his hands.

“Pretty sure you wouldn’t wanna see me wound up dead on national TV with your name written all over my confessional journals and have forensics blame you for the cause of my death, would you?”

You’re too stunned to reply and so Zeke continues talking, his attitude lazily nonchalant as the cigarette dangled from his lips.

“Don’t think that’d look too good on you concerning you just introduced me to your friends—”

With a frantic gesture, you’re dipping your hands into your purse.

“Okay, okay! Fuck!”

Slapping the crumpled notes onto his chest, you huff before turning your back to him. You don’t walk far but you circle the small space of the pavement outside of the club. You wanted anything but to be in his presence right now.

“Who knew you were such a fucking cheap sket?” You mumble, but it was loud enough for him to hear.

“I’m literally a Jaeger, what more did you expect?” He replies as he stuffs the notes into his back pocket.

And in all honesty, you find yourself not being able to disagree with him because he had a point.

Seeing you were unresponsive, Zeke shrugs. At the end of the day, he’s done his job and gotten his pay — his work here was done. Patting himself down and dropping his cigarette to the floor, Zeke clicks his teeth at you.

“Alright. Well, it was good doing business with you, my love. We should toats do this again sometime.”

You turn back to him with one last look although your stubbornness prohibits you from entertaining him for long. But Zeke knows you’re only being prissy.

With a roll of his eyes, the man opens one of his arms for you to beckon to. He however doesn’t move from his spot.

“Don’t gimme that face, C’mere.” He says softly and you realise it’s the nicest he’s been all night.

You pout, still wanting to be stubborn, but it’s the way Zeke’s glasses glow underneath the streetlamps glow and the way his arm looks so inviting that pushes you to move back to him.

Your arms are folded but slowly you lean yourself into Zeke’s embrace.

As you lay your head onto his shoulder the blonde wraps his arm around your frame, before he bends down to plant a dry kiss to your temple. It’s the most platonic gesture he’s made all night but surprisingly it doesn’t make you think he’s all that bad. He smells heavy of ash smoke.

“I’ll see you around?” He says after awhile. You don’t miss how his hand squeezes your arm.

“Mm.”

You pull back from his embrace but you’re unable to look him in the eye as he unlocks his car to then get in. You stand on the pavement, watching him buckle himself in and start up the engine. And you think that’s the last he has to say to you — that is, until he rolls down his window and hangs his arm out it.

“Oh! Before I forget.”

There in his hands, Zeke waves at you a small lip balm tube. Your lip balm.

Instantly your hands fly to your back pocket and unsurprisingly, it’s empty. You give Zeke a crooked look but the man’s already throwing it for you to catch.

“I told ya! Mind what you put in your back pockets!”

Just as you catch the lip balm with several juggles, Zekes already speeding off down the road, leaving you alone on the roadside.

[four-loose-screws]

FE2 Novelization Translation - Book 2 Cover and Intro Pages

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———————————

Cover

Fire Emblem Gaiden

Land of Sorrow

Book 2

STORY

A large-scale war is currently ravaging the continent of Valentia. After the loss of countless Units, the story of a new encounter is told. General Alm, leading the imperial army of Zofia to restore the country’s sovereignty, under the name “the Deliverance.” Young Priestess Celica, attempting to make her deepest wish of restoring goddess Mila to her rightful place a reality. However, fate is still leading these two in opposite directions.

The dark plot of the cold-hearted and ruthless Emperor Rudolf of Rigel is once again in motion. …The plot to thoroughly destroy the Kingdom of Zofia. For what reason has he fallen to such insanity? Alm, who has not even an idea of the fate of his bloodline, raises his sword against Rudolf.

Will he and Celica finally be able to act upon their love for each other? Will peace return to Valentia? Find out here, in the conclusion to this story!

Written by Katsuyuki Ozaki

Cover Illustration by Ichiro ?*

Cover Design by Kazuo Hiroi (WIDE)**

*T/N: I cannot find the Kanji character in this person’s last name anywhere to confirm its reading.

**T/N: First name could also be ‘Ichio’ or ‘Itsuo.’ I cannot find any record of this person online, so I cannot confirm the correct reading of their name. Their nickname is ‘WIDE’ because their last name, ‘hiroi,’ is the Japanese word for wide.

Published by Futabasha

Author’s Profile

Katsuyuki Ozaki

An up-and-coming author also working as a copywriter. His major works include “Valkyrie no Densetsu,” “F-Zero,” “Zelda II: The Adventure of Link,” and many more, all published by Futabasha. He has also written for other strategy guide series. His hobbies include golf, cars, and computer games. He is of course also passionate about Fire Emblem, and has completed all of the games so far. He poured all of his love for the series into writing these two books without rest!

Front:

The stage continues to unfold upon the continent of Valentia at war!

This fantastical tale of our young fighters finally comes to its end!

What will become of Alm and Celica’s love for each other? Where will their fate to fight lead them?

And in what direction will these Unit’s adventures take them…?

Back:

Ad for Book 1.

Ad for a Shin Megami Tensei novelization.

Color Art

Text:

This fantastic story is about the great battle on Land Valencia.

According to the destinies, many young heroes and heroines will fight to save their lovers.

Which will God promise to them, victory or defeat?

For whom will He smile?

Whom will He crush by a hummer at last?

Nothing but the bravy spirit of youth can bring peace to such a confused world.

The new act of this drama has just started now!!

Title Page

Table of Contents

(T/N: Exact translation of the chapter and chapter part titles are subject to change, once I read and translate them in full detail, based on exact context.)

Prologue

Chapter 1: The Second War

Mila, Lost Forever

The Empty Throne

Divine Blade Falchion

The Army of Witches at the Border

Chapter 2: The Battle at the Border

The Tragic Mage Luthier

Fratricide

The Golden General, Zeke

Surprise Attack

Sonya’s Secret

Crux of Fate

Chapter 3: God Duma

Triangle Attack

Great Sage Halcyon

Volcano

My Father, Jedah

Chapter 4: Reunion

To Rigel Castle

Mad Emperor Rudolf

The Heir

Chapter 5: The Altar and the Final Act of the War

The Mystery of Gradivus

Inside the Continent

My Father, Rudolf

The Gods’ Slumber

The Reborn Kingdom of Valentia

Epilogue

-

Illustrations: Ichiro ?* & Kazuo Hiroi (WIDE)**

*T/N: I cannot find the Kanji character in this person’s last name anywhere to confirm its reading.

**T/N: First name could also be ‘Ichio’ or ‘Itsuo.’ I cannot find any record of this person online, so I cannot confirm the correct reading of their name. Their nickname is ‘WIDE’ because their last name, ‘hiroi,’ is the Japanese word for wide.

Book design: Yusuke Matsuoka (NEXT)

Editing & printing: Rekkasha

Character Introductions

Celica’s Army

Genny: A Cleric from Novis Island’s Priory who supports Celica’s ideals.

Atlas: A Villager who joins Celica and her army to defeat the pirate Grieth. A hot-blooded young man with exceptional sword fighting talent.

Leon: A young Archer who is saved by Celica’s army at the pirate’s fortress, and stays with them afterwards.

Saber: A Mercenary searching for an employer to work for at Novis Greatport. Later transcends to Myrmidon.

Valbar: An Armor who was one of three people fighting to kill the pirate Barth at his fortress.

Est: A Pegasus Knight and one of the three sisters from Archanea. She is captured alone and brought to Grieth’s fortress.

Palla: One of the three sisters from Archanea. A Pegasus Knight with superior strength and mobility.

Nomah: A Sage whose spiritual powers have only strengthened in his old age, and possesses the skill to cast Sagittae.

Catria: A Pegasus Knight and one of the three sisters from Archanea. When they combine their powers, they can pull off the strongest attack of all…

Boey: A young Mage who serves at Novis Island’s Priory with Celica. 

Jesse: A Mercenary who joins forces with Celica to defeat Grieth. Though he acts like a ruffian, his swordsmanship skills are above average.

Sonya: A female Mage who can cast Excalibur. Her red lipstick and makeup proves that she is not associated with either the Mila nor Duma faithful.

Mae: Like Boey, she is a Mage from Novis Island’s Priory.

Celica: A deeply devout Priestess who leaves Novis Island’s Priory to travel to Mila’s Shrine. She is the second protagonist of this story, in addition to Alm.

Kamui: A Mercenary who goes to the pirate fortress with Leon and Valbar.

[daryascurse]

ooh for the ask game ! zeke's I, M, and R ?? (the way u write him in chl is so... *chefs kiss* but also *feral dog barking noises*)

OOOMG 😍 Always thrilled to poke into the brain of ZEKE JAEGER and see what terrible things we find.

And thank you thank you thank you! I am rotten over him!! With that, as opposed to how I answered Eren’s submission in a modern AU, let’s just do our CHL canonical Zeke with just a few references to that fic to anchor us, lol…

ɴꜱꜰᴡ | ᴍɪɴᴏʀꜱ + BLANK / AGELESS BLOGS ᴅɴɪ // cw: oral, exhibitionism, brothels; AFAB reader with nongendered pronouns

ALPHABET NSFW ASKS (still open! -- please limit to 3 letters max!)

I for Imagination [What do they fantasize about?]

Since Zeke Jaeger met you, you’ve thoroughly poisoned his mind. He finds himself daydreaming in Warrior meetings, needing to pinch the back of his hands to irritably bring him back to the serious strategic discussions. That’s bad, that’s dangerous, that’s the reason he excuses himself and shoos the shadow of Colt away to have a cigarette alone on the roof. He knows your daily routine, he’s made it his business to learn it, and so he knows he’ll never encounter you hanging laundry on the lines or stooping to pick gathered sheets up in a basket. He still finds himself almost hoping he will. So he smokes, spitting tobacco that gathers behind his lips over the edge of the roof, and thinks about what he’ll do the next time he does run into you, whether the encounter is planned or not. For the length of the cigarette he lets himself imagine more. He thinks of you coming into the Warrior’s meeting room, bowing your head in the learned deference to those honorary Eldians, offering an apology for interrupting – you’re just going to empty the wastebaskets and be on your way. And he imagines rising up, telling you to forget your work, to come over to him. As if Pieck, Porco, Colt, Reiner were absent, as if you’d even had time to close the door, how he would direct you to kneel on the floor before his chair. He would lounge back, examine a paper on the table with a casual glance down his nose and push his glasses up with a single finger. He’d ask Porco some question, holding his gaze with a cool command. And all the while, of course you would know what to do; and even as Porco would blush irritably and snap back his response, your soft pretty hands would be at his pants, letting out his cock and opening your mouth around him. He wouldn’t give any of them, even you, the satisfaction of letting his pleasure show. That would come when he – the War Chief – at last dismissed them, when your whimpers were no longer muffled below the table as you choked on his length. That’s when he would acknowledge you again, sweeping the notes and papers off the table and sitting you on the edge, returning the favor between your thighs with a delicious fervor as you’d make the breathy, keening sounds he loves – And he shakes his head, chuckles a little at himself for even thinking that word. He exhales smoke and screws up his eyes at the sky, changing the fantasy in the last few dregs he can pull out of this cigarette before going back down to cold, sober reality. Instead, rather, he’d have you splayed on your back with the sounds you’re making garbled whimpers of overwhelming stimulation as he fucks you on the table, holding your thigh down to spread your hips wide with one hand and furiously rubbing your clit with the other, a thirsty, satisfied smile on his lips. “You know we had to cut the meeting short because of you? How am I supposed to get anything done with you around?”

M for Moan [What kind of noises do they make? What sounds do they like to hear from their partner?]

Because Zeke is so clever, and knows so insufferably that he’s so clever, sex with him is very verbal. Not that he expects an intelligent discussion from you, but if something crawls into his mind as he lies on the bed and watches you bent between his knees, he’ll just say it. He can tell the rumble of his voice makes you shake, knows how to tease pretty sounds off your tongue when he has you on your stomach and breathes words into your skin. When your mouth is full with him, he knows how to offer and withhold praise to make you moan and choke over his cock. And when his mouth is full of you, hands crawling up your chest, he knows that even offering his own grating groans will make you rush onto his lips. Even if your only reaction is to flush and stammer, getting that little rise out of you is satisfying to him. “You taste like you’re close. Come for me, on my tongue. I want to hear you.”

R for Role Play [What is their role-playing fantasy?]

Zeke doesn’t see any shame in the fact that he’s frequented brothels before, mostly because he’s apathetic about the concept as a whole. He’s left being a customer long behind him, long before the mission to Paradis; but he’s mildly surprised to reflect on the past years and realize that it’s been almost as long since he even just accompanied a fellow Warrior Candidate on an illicit visit to the red light district. When someone – maybe Pieck – presents the suggestion that he should take Colt, he acquiesces easily. It’s mostly out of the same apathy, partially from some curiosity as to how the young man would hold his own (or fail to), and, on an even more minuscule level, from some deep-buried twinge of guilt – that he should let the kid see some fun things in the world. What surprises him, as he leads the nervous Colt through the hallways of an underground apartment that seems much dingier, much more cramped than memory serves, is that you come to mind. That your face is almost superimposed on the woman sitting on a stool and holding her hand out, demanding some payment up front. That your smile is the uncertain, professional curve of lips playing on the mouth of the second woman who opens the door for Colt. He closes the door behind the furiously blushing man and waves away a third woman who dances up to him with hips nothing like yours, and ascends the stairs for a cigarette. He thinks about the skimpy, revealing clothes these women wear, and wonders, with a twist of his mouth and a hardening in his pants, how you would look crawling towards him with heavily lidded eyes and gauzy silks slipping off your frame. “I paid for a private dance. If I don’t get my money’s worth, you’ll have a very unhappy customer on your pretty little hands.”

It’s so funny because I’m really not through enough with work to procrastinate with these (but that’s what tomorrow’s for!!) but I had ideas for CHL I just had to write down which is what fully turned my attention away].

[themonotonysyndrome]

A what if headcannon.... (present) Castin met teenage (past) Celica (like him learning more about her life, trama, abuse, interests, thoughts for the future)

This ask is too good not to be a oneshot! I love, love, LOVE IT when characters from the present meet another character from the future or past. It's a very thought-provoking trope! So thank you for this prompt, Anon~

*Castin is 26 years old here, while Celica is 14 years old.

-

The red velvet curtains above Castin immediately alert him that something is wrong. Really, really wrong.

He finds himself waking up on a red canopy bed, too soft and too foreign compared to his charming and rustic marital one. He would know because he bought it, after all. Actually, most of the furniture in the bedroom was personally chosen and bought by Castin with his wife's maximum comfort in mind. So, this whole rich burgundy and dark gold aesthetic that surrounds him? Scream of moody opulence and spellbinding grandeur - perfect for a wealthy teenager.

Unfortunately for the Intacian warrior, he let his thoughts wander for far too long because a cold, sharp blade is suddenly pressed against his throat. Light as a feather, but Castin has no doubt that if he so much as breathe, that dagger will dig deep.

"You are the strangest assassin that I've ever encountered." A young voice muses from his left, and Castin's heart stills. He could recognise the condescending lit in that tone he had come to adore anywhere. Or rather... at any year if his suspicion is proven correct. "Is your go-to tactic consist of ambushing your victims in their beds? Like some monster under the bed?"

Castin chuckles lowly, very mindful of the blade still against his neck? "Would you believe me if I said that I'm not an assassin?"

"You have exactly 10 seconds to humour me then: Who are you?"

"I'm your husband from the future."

"A drunk or drugged-up assassin is on my bed. What a day of many firsts this is turning out to be."

"I can prove it if you want: You parents left you something with Ezekiel. Spoiler alert: He'll never give it to you while you're... you're like this."

"You just gesture to all of me."

Castin can't help it; he grins so wide his cheeks hurt. He takes a leap of faith at that moment: Gently pushing the dagger away so he can push himself up to fully look at Celica Anesidora.

This version of his wife looks very young; definitely a teenager. Unlike the colours of her bedroom, the heir apparent is wearing a white dress with black linings today. Her long blonde hair is in a low twin-tail, and she has the most unimpressed expression. Castin would've gushed how adorable she was if it weren't for her still holding that dagger; most likely poisoned knowing the Anesidora upbringing.

Castin lets her stare at the tattoo across his heart before slowly raising an eyebrow. "Well? Arent'y you gonna confirm it with Zeke?"

"His name is Ezekiel and even then you will only address him by Sir Di Angelo." Teenage Celica immediately snaps. Her eyes narrow at him. Goddess, it's like a puffed-up kitten.

Castin slowly raises his arms up in peace. "My bad, my bad. The head butler recently gave me permission to call him by that so I got used to it."

"Hmph. Only family is given that privelege."

"Exactly~"

Celica pursed her lips. "What is your name?"

"Castin Hammer, forever at your service." Castin introduces himself, beating a fist against his chest in greeting. And just because he now knows Imperial custom... "Commander of the Intacian army."

The heir apparent physically recoils from the bed. Shock is evident. "You're an Intacian! An enemy of the Empire!"

Castin swallows the bitterness that swells up. A weak smile on his face. "Hey, hey, we're not the barbarians that your government has been feeding you, alright? Look, are you gonna confirm if I speak the truth with Sir Di Angel or are you gonna kill me right here and then?"

Celica isn't sure about what to do for the first time ever. "I will talk to Ezekiel now. For the time being, you will be a prisoner in this room. And for your information, the windows are locked so should ever are in the mood to escape, the loud crashing noises will alert my Knight."

"Aite. I'll be in your care."

The teenager bit her lower lip - seeing her so hesitant is so strange to Castin - before stomping out, and he could hear the tale-telling click of the door lock. With nothing else to do and not missing this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity (even if it's a dream), Castin hops off the bed to observe the rest of the room. Always eager to learn more about his wife - especially her childhood.

The master bedroom is connected to two separate areas: the living room and a small library. Castin has no doubt that there's a secret entrance somewhere that leads to the outside world, but for now, he's content chilling near the fireplace. Like the bedroom, everything else is bathed in red and gold. Velvet furnishings and soft carpets. Glimmering chandeliers and opulent dresserss. And yet, Castin can't help but feel lonely amongst all this luxury. It's simply too big for one girl, and a quick scan of the walls is enough to tell him about Celica's lack of affection for her parents. Paintings of all kinds, yet not a single frame of the previous Baron and his wife.

Castin is staring at a 'recent' portrait of Celica with Lord Reyes and the would-be Queen Isolde where the trio is having a picnic. Goddess, Celica really looks so young in the frame.

And that's where she found him again.

Celica deliberately chooses not to question the wistful expression on the strange Intacian's handsome face. She has a feeling that's a can of worms that she doesn't want to deal with right now. So, instead, she taps her heel in agitation.

"Ezekiel is now suspicious as to how I know about those letters," Celica huffs, folding her arms across her chest. Apparently, that's a habit she had learned since she was young. What a bittersweet notion for Castin. "So you have exactly 10 minutes to tell me who you are and why you are here in my bedroom before Eaton starts sniffing that something is off. Once he sees you, your fate is completely out of my hands."

Castin sighs and makes himself comfortable on the couch, knowing all too well that he just broke one of the many rules by Imperial standards, never mind its nobility. And judging by the pinched look on the teenager's face, he hit the nail on the head. "Well, like I said before, I'm your husband from the future. Our marriage is meant to unite the Coastal Empire and Intacia at the request of the King Rhett - my best friend - and Queen Isolde - your bestie - and we've been together for at least 3 years now."

Just for curiosity's sake, Castin decided to feed her nothing but the truth and observe how she processed it. So he watches as she pace around, struggling to believe him or chucks it all up as ramblings from a mad intruder.

"Isolde becomes Queen of Intacia!? Even with my bare knowledge of Intacia, this... this Rhett is unfamiliar to me, and he made dear Isolde into a Queen? Isolde who wishes to enjoys a quiet life once she graduates from the academy?"

Castin shrugs. His nonchalance is irritating to Celica, still so much like a bristling kitten. "I can tell you right now that whatever plans you have for the future? Better to think twice. Oh! And Rhett isn't part of the royal Intacian family - he threw a coup."

Celica's jaw is officially on the floor now. Castin would've kissed her silly for that. "Evidence or not, I refuse to believe you." She finally announced. She takes a seat across Castin on an armchair near the fireplace. She looks so exhausted despite it still being early in the morning.

"That's fair. I know how strict your routine is, and I just threw off your groove. I'll get out of your hair in a minute."

"How... exactly are you planning to return to the... future?" Celica makes a face. It sounds so incomprehensible when she says that out loud. Nothing makes sense today!

"I'll try to go back to sleep and see where I'll end up next. Hopefully, in my own bed with my wife still sleeping beside me."

His words stirred Celica's need to know, or else this curiosity would eat her alive. "You said that I married you for the sake of our nations. While I can't ever imagine myself marrying an Intacia, regardless of gender, - "

Ouch! Castin doesn't take that to heart.

" - I do understand marrying for the sake of a fake marriage."

Ok, he has to intervene. "It's not a FAKE marriage; it's an ARRANGED one." Castin snaps. It stings the first time he has to say it, and it still does for the second time. His love for Celica Anesidora will never be fake, and he refuses to be insulted by it. "Yeah, ok, we didn't start off great because I messed up when we first met but, Celica? Don't ever doubt my love for you. Even if, Goddess forbid it, you abandoned me, my heart will forever be yours, alright?"

"You... you love me?"

"Yeah! Well, not you right now. That's just weird b-but the woman you will become. Celica, you gotta understand something; if the sunrise would one day disappear and people ask what I would do about it, I'd just look at you. As long as you're with me, I will love you every day because you're my sun."

Celica hitches a breath at Castin's vow. It's overwhelming. Late at night, when she couldn't sleep, especially after Eaton explained that he was only her Knight because he loved the woman who gave birth to her, Celica would pray to the Divine Couple for love that could be wholly hers. And not a remnant of her parents.

Eaton doesn't love Celica; he tolerates her. Ezekiel doesn't love Celica; he cares for her as the daughter of his former employer. Tristan doesn't love Celica; he protects her financially because he's obligated to by a contract.

But this man, this... Castin Hammer... did the Divine Couple truly prepare a heart that loves her so much that she becomes the light of his world? It sounds too good to be true. For once in her life, Celica is afraid to believe in something. Let alone a stranger.

"I know how you're basically locked up in Talia Hall for your own 'protection' and can only leave when the school semester starts again. I can't begin to scream how wrong that is. But despite everything, you turn out to be one hell of a woman, Celly. A real dragon in diamonds, you know? Everyone in the Empire will know about your name and before you know, so would the people in Intacia. So please, don't ever lose hope, OK? There are those who truly loves you for who you are; not because of your title or wealth. Though, of course, no one could love you as much as I do. Not even Lord Reyes."

Celica snorts; she can't help it. "Why can I imagine you and Reyes getting along like a house on fire."

"We had beef when he first introduces himself but we're totally cool now. I mean, he's dating Lilia and she's a good friend of mine."

"I've heard stories about husband fiting with his wife's friend due to jealousy. Never would I think that I'll be facing the same thing."

Castin squawks like a startled bird. "Can you blame me? I was so scared that you finally realised that you could do better! That you could be with someone who is on the same level as you, and that... that nearly kills me, Celica. You can't possibly fathom how desperate I was..."

A contemplative silence descends upon them. Celica really needs some time to process all these.

Unfortunately, she has half an hour before someone comes to the bedroom, so she needs to send this impossibly charming and sincere man back to his own time. So when Castin asks if she could do him a favour and read a book out loud, it would help him fall asleep better.

"Your voice makes me feel like I'm sleeping on clouds, Celly. It never fails to send me to dreamland."

"I will choose to accept that as a compliment rather than your roundabout way of admitting that you find it boring."

Castin laughs at her wit but lays down on the couch as soon as Celica cracks open a book. She chooses to read him the local bedtime stories.

Slowly and like magic, Castin closes his eyes. He smells the lavender linen and the familiar rose-scented shampoo when he opens them again. Baroness Celica Anesidora is in his arms, and as the sun rises, so does his wife. Castin bestows a lingering kiss on her forehead.

"Morning, Sweetheart. Would you believe me if I said that I have the craziest dream ever?"

[wheredidalltheusersgo]

The Stranded and The Scaly.

Chapter 6 Day 6: Hazy

Golden sunlight trickled through the curtains, it was a truly blissful scene, Geoff thought as he laid on his bed. Though, he was snapped out of his thoughts by some movement nearby.

Bridgette was still asleep. She was snuggled up on top of Geoff with her cheek pressed to his chest. Geoff couldn't help but smile, she was perfect. He lifted a hand to stroke his fingers through her golden locks. Bridgette smiled in her sleep at the contact and nuzzled her cheek further into Geoff's chest. Oh, how he loved her. She was his everything....

Geoff whined in protest as the dream faded out and his eyes opened.

The first thing he noticed was how hot and uncomfortable he was, did he have a fever?

The second thing he noticed was the ache in his right leg and back. As he glanced down at his legs, he saw that his wound had been bandaged up. He seemed to be in a cave, but how did he get here? Either way, he was still exhausted, surely it wouldn't hurt to get a few more minutes of rest?

His eyelids drooped and soon enough, he was fast asleep again.

When he awoke again, the first thing he saw was a pair of wide, grey eyes staring directly into his.

"G'mornin', Zeke...." Geoff yawned. Something felt different, he didn't feel the hardness of the cave floor. "Zeke?.. Is this my sleeping bag?..." Ezekiel nodded in response. "And you wrapped up my leg, too?..." Another nod. Geoff couldn't help but smile, it was nice that Ezekiel cared enough about him to make sure he was comfortable. He tried to sit up, only to be gently pushed back down by Ezekiel. "Rest." Ezekiel managed to growl out. "I take care." Geoff was the only member of the cast who had been somewhat nice to him, and he wasn't going to lose that allyship. He had to make sure the other teen didn't succumb to his wounds and die.

"You've been hanging onto your speaking skills, eh?.. It's nice to know that you still sound somewhat like you did a year ago..." Geoff smiled weakly, before coughing into his hand. Ezekiel gave Geoff a concerned look and pressed the back of his hand against his forehead. His temperature was still high, that wasn't good at all. "This place is really hot, isn't it?.." Geoff spoke. "Not hot. Fever." Ezekiel replied. "That makes sense, I feel gross.. " Geoff groaned. "How'd you get me here, anyways?.. I think I blacked out..." 

"Carry." Ezekiel carefully lifted Geoff off the ground as a demonstration before setting him back down on the sleeping bag. "You're stronger than I remember, does being a mutant give you more strength?..."

Ezekiel just shrugged in reply.

"Hungry? I make soup." Ezekiel pointed to a steaming pot on a campfire a couple meters away.

"You made soup?... how?..." Geoff was genuinely curious. "Did you raid Chef's kitchen or something?..."

Ezekiel gave Geoff a simple nod. "Chef not watch kitchen at night."

"Oh, I guess that checks out."

"I steal couple things from kitchen." Zeke shuffled off and came back with a large burlap sack. He reached into the sack and pulled out one of chef's bowls and a spoon. "Wow, that's pretty neat, homeschool.." Geoff grinned slightly.

"I feed you. You rest more. Good?"

"Yep, sounds good, buddy." Geoff sat up as best as he could and combed his fingers through his messy, blonde hair. Ezekiel wandered over to the pot with the fork and spoon before dipping the bowl into the pot and scooping up some of the soup. He went back over to Geoff with the bowl of steaming liquid.

"What's in that stuff, anyways?" Geoff stared at the chunks floating in the slightly thick liquid. "Potato. Fish. I steal salt from kitchen. " Ezekiel scooped up a spoonful of the soup and blew on it before offering it to Geoff. "You're getting pretty resourceful, huh?" Geoff replied before taking the spoon into his mouth. It was salty, though it didn't taste too bad. "Not bad, homeschool!" Geoff reached forwards and gave Ezekiel an appreciative pat on the head. A toothy grin spread across Ezekiel's face at the contact, and he continued to feed Geoff the soup.

After a little while, Geoff was fast asleep on the sleeping bag again. Since there was a little stream running through their part of the cave, Ezekiel had soaked a cloth with water and placed it on Geoff's forehead to try and regulate his body temperature.

Ezekiel hesitantly leaned in and pressed his ear against the other boy's chest to hear his heartbeat. It was comforting to hear the gentle rhythm of Geoff's heart and feel the slow rise and fall of his chest as he breathed.

It was nice to have a companion.

------

[mamasbakeria]

their favorite parts of the braiding process

summary: lmfao it’s just the title

genre | includes: headcanons, sfw, black reader, gn reader, established relationship

characters: eren jaeger, mikasa ackerman, armin arlert, sasha braus, jean kirschtein, connie springer, levi ackerman, hange zoe, erwin smith, historia reiss, ymir (not fritz), reiner braun, annie leonhardt, bertholdt hoover, marco bodt, miche zacharius, nanaba, zeke jaeger, yelena, onyankopon, pieck finger, porco galliard

author’s note: got my hair done a few days ago and i’ve been experiencing insane aot brainrot so here we are. ignore the way these got progressively longer lol. this was fun and i have some other ideas, maybe college won’t kill me before i post them. enjoy and lemme know what you think :)

the take down – you can’t really place them. they never want you to take your old hair out, but are all giggly with the scissors when you assert that it’s time. they can’t help it. even with all the build-up on your scalp, they think the return of your natural hair is something out of a fairy tale. they love the curl pattern left in your hair after weeks of being in braids and they love separating the braiding hair from your own. the scene stays the same: you’re on a pillow on the floor between their knees while a shitty hallmark romcom plays on the tv in front of you. both of you are armed with rattail and wide tooth combs, mentally preparing for all the shedding and breakage you’ll be brushing off the couch for the next few weeks. it’s routine at this point for them to jokingly hover the open scissors over the part of your braid where you know damn well your hair is and ask if they can cut from there. it’s also routine for the scissors to get snatched right out of their hands as you proceed to cut way below where your hair could logically be because “after all the time i spent fighting people in walmart for the mielle oil, i better have a natural 40 inch buss down under all this xpressions”. 

EREN, ymir, PIECK, zeke (cut your hair like an inch from the scalp while removing butterfly locs one time and, to this day, you’ve never seen someone more terrified), nanaba, YELENA, onyankopon

the wash – they’re probably more excited about your hair getting washed than you are. they miss giving you scalp massages without having 6 weeks worth of gel and leave in conditioner left under their nails. what they didn’t get was why it took so long. it probably sparked an argument because they never spend that much time washing their hair, so why do you? it wasn’t until you made them watch as you and your detangling brush fought with your curls under the stream of water and nearly blacked out from the heat that they realized why the water bill was so high. to save your aching arms (and hopefully some extra cash) they offered to wash your hair for you. they nearly waterboarded you the first time, but with practice, they got better.  now, nothing relaxes them more than lathering shampoo through your hair and occasionally spraying water in your face when you look too at peace. they buy you a salon wash basin for christmas so you both can stop crouching over the tub which is great, but where the fuck are you supposed to install it?

MIKASA, erwin, sasha, REINER (has the cutest smile when you sigh in response to him scratching that one spot on your scalp), hange, jean, annie, porco

the blowout – they don’t realize, especially if your hair is type 4, that detangling during the wash is only half the battle. it doesn’t matter how silky smooth it got in the shower, the second the blow dryer is out, it all goes to hell. i hope you’re not tenderheaded because the fight between them and your curls is long and painful. but it's a battle they refuse to let you fight. god forbid you try to blow out your own hair– they get sooo upset. which confuses you because the way they grumble under their breath while passing the comb attachment through your hair has you convinced they’re only doing it to work out some unresolved stress. the truth is, they just know you’ll forget to use heat protectant and wind up frying your hair. and they know how upset you get when you realize some of your roots didn’t get stretched. so they’ll (gently) muscle their way through the most stubborn tangles any day if it means getting to see you smile at how healthy your hair looks and how much it has grown since the last time you saw it like this. they love how your hair now floats around you. they don’t love how sore their arms are. “damn, no wonder you’re so strong.”

connie, PORCO, BERTHOLDT, armin, miche, MARCO (probably cries when the comb extension breaks in your hair)

the beauty supply runs – the simultaneously dull and fluorescent lighting casts an otherworldly glow over the aisles of gel, deep conditioner, kankelon hair, and wig glue. for some reason, there’s always a childlike gleam in their eye as they scan the wigs along the wall. you have to hold their hand every time so they don’t wander off. it’s not like the store is big–you could probably read each other’s lips while standing on opposite sides–but if given the freedom to roam, you’d be leaving $250 poorer than you planned for with bags full of stuff you absolutely don’t need. “babe we have matching bonnets, we don’t need them in zebra stripes too.” if you can convince them to stick with you, they’re snatching every bottle you pick up out of your hand. before you can even begin questioning them, they’ve already started reciting information about the ingredients of the products and why it isn’t good for your hair’s porosity. you can only stare dumbly as they hand you a better option to try because you have no idea when they would have had time to do any of this research. the favorite part of the trip for both of you is picking the color you’re doing next. the average passerby would think you’re trying to decide which wire to cut so you don’t detonate a bomb with how hard you both scrutinize the packs of color 30 and 350 in front of you (ginger is always your color)

HANGE, marco, mikasa, ONYANKOPON (will give you the dirtiest look if you so much as glance at a cantu product), pieck

the parting – this is the first step of the actual installation process that you involve them in. before they used to sit next to you on the couch as you did it all yourself, committing every movement your fingers made to memory and keeping you company. they would frown as you cursed your lack of ability to see perfectly behind your head and parted the same section over and over again. they wanted to offer help, they really did, they just didn’t trust themselves enough. so when you both started working from home and you didn’t care what your parts looked like, you let them try. it wasn’t perfect the first time, or the second. for about a month, you rock faux locs with a scalp that looks like the drawing on your fridge gifted to you by your 5 year old nephew, but that’s what beanies are for. rough start aside, they pick up on it quickly. they figure out how much gel you really need for your braids to look neat and don’t overdo it. wielding the comb with confidence, they cut through your hair like butter. soon they’re parting your hair into boxes, hearts, arches, diamonds, and whatever else you could imagine like moses did the red sea. “babe do you think it would look good if i make one of them look like my initials?”

ARMIN, eren, levi, ERWIN, ZEKE, historia (got really good really fast… hisu who do you fuck in the city when i’m not there?), bertholdt

the braid down – they’re in awe of the dexterity of your stylist's fingers as she adds pieces of braiding hair to your own and hardly looks down while nimbly braiding all the way to the ends. they sit through all your appointments–locs, press and curls, protein treatments, wig installs–but nothing fascinates them as much as the art of a simple braid. they ask all sorts of questions about what your stylist is doing and even start putting hair on the rack to make the process go smoother. they pay even more attention when you do it yourself because they aren’t worried about distracting anyone from doing their job. before long, they know almost everything there is to know about your braids except for how to do them. and they want to know so badly. the opportunity arises when you both relocate to a new city and all the “stylists” are charging $300+ for smedium mid-back knotless braids. you’d do it yourself, but you broke two fingers during the move-in process and aren’t skilled enough to work around it. you think you need to coach them through the process, but are pleasantly surprised when they get the grip right the first time and are halfway down by the time you’ve picked what movie trilogy you want to watch. turns out they’d been watching youtube videos and taking lessons from your old stylist so they could do it for you one day. at least that’s what they tell you, they really just like popping your head with the comb when you move from where they positioned it. “ow! stop pushing my head around” “keep your head still and i’ll think about it”

LEVI, yelena, YMIR (does the thing where she talks on the phone with it tucked in between her shoulder and her ear while braiding at top speed, like just put it on speaker), onyankopon, mikasa, armin, ANNIE

the finished product – they are NOT here for delayed gratification. they want to see your hair done and they want to see it now. they get more restless than you do and they’re not the one getting their thoughts and dreams braided for 5 hours. like why are they more upset about the infamous last braid that gets split into 4 more than you are? “man what the fuck are you so upset about? this is not your scalp??” it’s nice having them around regardless. whether or not they’re helping with the actual braiding, they’re your biggest supporter. they’ll grab you (and the stylist if you aren’t doing it yourself) mcdonalds, boil the water to seal your ends, oil your scalp, mousse your hair, trim the flyaways, sweep up the stray hair, etc. knowing how tired you are, all the time consuming clean up is their self-allotted duty. but once all of that is done, they get to do what they’ve been waiting for: admire you. without fail, the second you stand up they’re taking pictures from every angle, showering you with compliments (ginger really is your color), peppering your head with kisses, but most importantly, just looking at how beautiful you are. you outdo yourself every time and they tell you as much, even if it embarrasses you. 

HISTORIA, connie, pieck, hange, SASHA, reiner, JEAN (the heart eyes this man has for you…and don’t get me started on the sketches he makes of you with every new style you get. he is SO whipped)

© mamasbakeria 2023. do not repost, translate (without permission), or modify

[obiwhat]

I have a fic request for you, if you don't mind. An Erwin lives au. Erwin sees Levi for the first time after Levi gets blown up by the thunder spear. Levi is covered in bandages and in a lot of pain and Erwin being very concerned and protective.

hi there anon!! thank u for the request :)) i got real excited about this one, hope you enjoy! ~~

Beating Hearts

(takes place during the rumbling, when the crew escapes Paradis on a boat)

“Where is he?”

Hanji hesitated— muscles tense. They seemed to know instantly who Erwin was referring to, and why he’d be so urgent to see him. Then their face fell and they beckoned Erwin to follow them through the vacant ship corridors. As soon as Hanji started in one direction, he was practically stepping over their heels.

Erwin thought back to when he had assigned each one of their missions. He had been the one to assign Levi to guarding Zeke. He had sent him away to that damn forest for a month with the enemy. And so it was Erwin who was given the news of Levi’s condition once everything started going to shit.

“I tried my best with the bandages. I’m not a medical doctor after all. The stitches are rough. He swallowed water. And he… his chest doesn’t sound right,” Hanji rambled as they passed through the ship halls, leading Erwin to the only closed door at the end of the main corridor.

Erwin paused in front of the door. His hands were trembling. Fuck, he was horrified of what he would find beyond that simple slab of steel.

The ship rocked against the waves, jarring him from his thoughts.

“Hanji,” he managed, finally. “You saved him. Thank you.”

“Don’t know how many times he’s saved me,” they croaked, seeming guilty— of what charge, Erwin didn’t know. “I hope I did enough.”

“You did more than enough,” Erwin offered a meekly smile to them. They nodded and turned away, leaving Erwin to enter Levi’s room on his own.

The scent of antiseptic was the first thing Erwin noticed when he shakenly pulled the door open. There, in a small military style bed with pristine white sheets, laid his captain. Broken and battered, Levi was nearly the same pale tone as the bed he laid in.

Erwin’s feet carried him forward but he felt them going weak. Gently, he pulled a chair up to the bed, eyes burning as they trailed over the various assortment of bandages littering Levi’s face and shirtless upper chest.

Hanji was right, his lungs did sound strange. It was as if the very act of raising them dug shards of glass through each crevice of lung tissue. Internal injuries, was the first thought that came to mind.

All and all, he was still here. The stubborn man he had fallen in love with had lived, and they were reunited once again. That was enough— more than enough at what seemed to be the end of the world.

Erwin hadn’t realized that his hand had gravitated over Levi’s until his captain’s hand gave him a small squeeze back. Erwin lifted his head, looking up at Levi, half expecting him to be wide eyed and full of life as always— maybe he would even comment on Erwin’s ragged appearance.

But his eyes were hardly open, they blinked slowly as if it took all his energy just to muster up the will to look at Erwin. And once his gaze landed upon him, it seemed to glaze over.

“H-Hey ‘Win,” he croaked, his voice hoarse and jarring.

“Hello, my dove.” Erwin smiled, for Levi. He brought a soft touch to Levi’s warm forehead, stroking his damp hair from his bandaged face so he could see him better. “How are you feeling?”

Levi didn’t respond, at least not how Erwin thought he would. He simply paused, then trembled as he shook his head.

“I figured as much,” Erwin supplied. Him doing most of the talking was common for them. “When Hanji told me about the explosion… I didn’t believe it. I thought no one was stubborn enough to live through that. You’ve proved me wrong.

Levi raised his lip to a smile, weakly. Then he coughed and spoke again, “Put off dying… W-Wanted t’see you first.”

Erwin huffed a laugh, though he felt tears threatening to fall from his eyes. “Don’t even joke about that.”

His captain hummed, defiant as ever. Even now. Even in the state he was in, he was acting like himself. Erwin wondered if that was due to him— if Levi was putting up an act so Erwin would be comforted.

Then Levi gave Erwin’s hand another soft squeeze. “Y’okay?”

“Of course. Of course, I am,” Erwin shuttered, putting his cheek to Levi’s chest. Feeling his heartbeat slowly against the soft fabric of the bed sheets. “I am now.”

“Erwin, you should know, my face is… It’s…”

“What?” Erwin lifted his head, Levi’s expression had changed. He was avoiding Erwin’s gaze now.

“Well, I know I wasn’t much of a looker before, but now… I understand if—”

Erwin heaved in a breath and put his hands delicately to the sides of Levi’s cheeks, barely applying any pressure for the fear of hurting him. “No. No, Levi. You don’t understand.”

Levi’s gaze finally returned. His eyes were lined with a pain that Erwin knew had nothing to do with his broken body.

“You don’t understand. You will always be beautiful— because you’re mine. Until the day I die, I'll kiss each one of your scars and I’ll take care of you, Levi. Like you’ve done to me.”

Tears rimmed Levi’s eyes, he blinked them away and smirked. Though it didn’t last long as the smile caused him more harm than good, he winced and bit his lip.

“Dunno how many days we have left, Commander,” Levi huffed.

“Then I’m grateful that we will spend them together.” He pressed a soft kiss to Levi’s forehead, feeling the heat of his fever against his cool lips.

That night, and for the first time in weeks, Erwin let the steady and reassuring sensation of Levi’s heartbeat lull him into a dreamless sleep.