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slttygeto · 8 months ago

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༉‧₊˚. episode 02: right here

preview: ". . . It triggered a chain of thoughts that was unstoppable like a relentless river. It sculpted its route through the toughest ground, unyielding in its attempt to carve Shuji’s touch into your memory. Now, he existed in both realms for you. A boy that had once seemed so intimidating being the subject of your dreams was your last straw. Therefore, you left."

content warning: cursing, mention of violence.

word count: 4k

➜ ┊: @softshuji @sin-and-punishment @kariatenoh @reiners-milkbiddies @citrusteaa

༉‧₊˚. reblog + comment!

➜ episode one

➜ masterlist [echoes of time]

Who would’ve known that Hanma would continue to torment you even after his departure? You haven’t seen the man in a few days, however you can count the hours you’ve spent thinking about him—of his dual toned hair, his golden eyes boring into yours. The way his grip on your hips was firm yet so gentle, a contrast to how he seemed to be living his life. His presence lingers in every corner of your mind, your goodbyes bittersweet.

He was the subject of your every dream, and when the first ray of sunlight hits your face, you are painfully reminded that he wasn’t next to you anymore—you didn’t even want him to be next to you! You start to blame your own celibacy. Your lack of action must’ve taken a toll on you if you were having embarrassing dreams of a man you barely hung out with for an hour.

As you prepare your morning coffee and plan out the rest of your day—Saturdays were for cleaning, you hated cleaning on Sundays. Even as you scribble down on your notepad, your thoughts wander away and find refuge in the forefront of your mind where your most recent dream plays on repeat.

It’s a teenager Hanma, a sight you never thought you’d see again. He looks the same, maybe a bit younger and far more excited to impose himself on those around him. It’s near sunset, Hanma drags you to the same ramen shop you visit on Fridays before heading home. He orders a tokotsu with extra pork belly and spicy miso broth, whereas you opt for your usual order of shoyu ramen. Your seats are close to one another, something you’ve learned to get used to. Hanma was a touchy person, often discarding his respect for other’s boundaries yet somehow, you were an exception of that. The only time he ever imposed himself, or his touch on you was when you were walking together and a ground of rebels dared start a fight in his neighborhood. His hands rested on your shoulders before he leaned down to whisper “stand back” in your ear—a habit you realize didn’t wither away over the years—before moving towards the group of rebels. They left defeated.

Your orders are here, and steam rises from the bowls in gentle wisps. You feel your mouth watering at the combinations of vegetables, chicken and soy sauce based broth. The texture is lighter than Hanma’s ramen, but you find that you’re more fond of the complex flavors that envelop your senses than the ones the tonkotsu offers.

“It’s hot,” he says in a deep voice, but as a teenager his voice still cracks. “Be careful.”

You’re not sure why your dream is so vivid, why it is offering so many details after a single meeting with the tall man? But you continue down dreamland lane, and you recall more specifics.

“Ah!” you hold a hand to your mouth, your spoon resting near your bowl as you start to blow out the steam from your hot meal. You should’ve listened to him.

“Told you to be careful,” he sounds annoyed, but still reaches for your face to grab it. You don’t fight back, his rough hand holding your jaw like a rag doll. “Open up.” He takes notice of your swollen lips, then you stick out your tongue and it’s reddened—clearly affected by the hot broth.

“You risked your mouth for this, silly girl.” His eyes glance up to yours and he chuckles at the way you’re glaring at him. He lets you close your mouth, but doesn’t pull away from your jaw. You’re used to him staring you down like this, it was Hanma after all. A figure shrouded in malice and darkness, holding Shinjuku’s streets in an unwavering, iron grip—one that eases up in your presence, because no one’s ever seen him act the way that he does with you. His soft stares and less unhinged persona are reserved for you and only you, and one could swear you put him under a spell. But which? And how could you? A mere conversation with him on your way out of school, offering him water and asking if he was okay despite the blood coating his clothes not being his was all he needed to lessen the glares and soften the punches.

“I want water,” you blurt out, getting yourself out of his grip and breaking the eye contact that had your stomach twisting in knots. He doesn’t look away, watches as you continue to soothe your tongue by fanning it. Getting up from his seat, he walks towards the small fridge in the corner of the shop before grabbing a bottle of cold water.

He hands you the bottle and before you could thank him properly, you feel his lips collide against yours so softly—you would never think that the boy was kissing you. Because he wasn’t, he gave you a small peck and then proceeded into his seat like nothing happened. Maybe he was aiming for the corner of your mouth, maybe he didn’t mean to get so close to you—

“I knew if I didn’t do it now, I’d never do it.” Referring to the kiss. But then again, the tapestry woven from your imagination doesn’t seem to be the result of reality blurring with fiction—but rather a trip down memory lane.

Your pen falls from your hand as you hold a hand to your mouth and lean back in your leather seat.

He kissed you. He kissed you when you were teenagers and that’s why your bond was never the same. Navigating a relationship as kids must’ve been a strange and foreign area, and instead of communicating things—you two never spoke to one another again and each went their own way.

No wonder the memories of the man had a beam of sunlight cast upon them, you felt too warm as you remembered your times with him—but to forget such a detail…You want to smack yourself on the forehead.

Something on your wooden desk vibrates and you reach for your phone all whilst trying to process what you just remembered. However, you choke on your coffee when you read the contents of the messages.

you never changed your phone number did you?

Could it be him? There was no way he kept your phone number—you read that it’s an unknown sender, but for some reason your gut is telling you to text back and find out who it was.

you

who is this?

why so formal, doll? It’s me.

You can see the grin behind the screen, and you get this violent urge to smack him.

you

where did you get my phone number

never deleted it

He doesn’t beat around the bush as always.

you

and? do you need something?

to open the door for me

What—there was no way. You scramble out of your seat and out of your office, your phone still in your hands. You’re about to reach for the entrance door until you feel your phone buzz again.

just kidding

but do look out of your balcony

This time, you’re not sure if he is telling the truth. You hesitate for a few moments, staring down at your screen. Even if he was standing outside your building, you’re not sure if this was safe. If he was safe. Then your phone buzzes again, this time he’s calling.

You answer the phone call but remain silent on the line, the sound of cars honking and random people walking past him is the only thing you hear until he chuckles and it resonates in your ear.

“I can see you hiding behind the curtains, doll.”

“What do you want?” you try to be appear harsh, stern but it was pretty obvious that you held no personal grudge against the man to be so cold with him. Perhaps a little scared with his unknown line of work that hinted at crime and illegal activities, deep down you knew that it was only a matter of time before Hanma crept his way back into your life. You didn’t want to question how he was able to find out where you live—perhaps you should.

“Did you have brunch yet?”

“Huh?”

“Food, woman. Did you eat?” the answer was no. You were in the middle of having coffee when he called, and you were planning for a rather long day ahead of you so you try to decline the offer you knew was coming.

“It’s cleaning day for me.”

“I didn’t ask that.” Why was he giving you attitude?

“Yeah, but I’m saying it.” You glare at your phone as you step away from the balcony and into your room. Subconsciously, you reach for your closet and open it to see what you could wear out for brunch.

“Alright then, I’ll drop you back as soon as we finish eating. How about that?”

“And where are you taking me?”

“You’re all about detail, doll,” he doesn’t mask his amusement. “I like that.”

Trying to hide how flustered you are, you clear your throats to change the topic—remind him of your question.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Shinjuku Terrace city.”

The place he takes you to is a bustling culinary adventure located near the Shinjuku station. As you step into the lively dining complex, the smell of different kinds of foods hits your nostrils. The food hub offers a variety of restaurants and cafés, all lined up in order of what to try—first is a cute cat café that catches your attention, the smile that travels to your lips grabbing Hanma’s attention before he continues to walk in the direction of the brunch place.

It still feels like too much. Your lips remain sealed as he stops in front of a brunch place. Brooklyn Pancake House. With its charming façade and its large glass windows, it allows so much natural light to flood in and it feels like the coziest place to go to on a date.

Right, a date. This is what it felt like, but Hanma doesn’t say anything and neither do you.

As you step inside the shop, the large yet intimate dining space offers a cozy and inviting atmosphere. You weren’t ready to admit it yet, but Hanma had good taste in finding hang out spots. Speaking of which, you notice how he chooses the table in the deepest corner of the shop, away from people’s prying eyes. He sits so he can see anyone coming or exiting the establishment. You don’t question his decision, rather quietly sit facing him with your hands neatly folded over your lap.

“Jesus christ,” he chuckles. “You’re acting like I’m holding you hostage.”

Your cheeks feel warm as you scramble to grab your phone. “I’m not—I just—“

“It’s fine, that about you didn’t change as well.”

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion, and you’re unable to bite your tongue for too long.

“I’ve grown, you know? I changed. Why suddenly come back and try to befriend me?”

That was an amazing question, worth a hefty sum of money—because Hanma wasn’t sure of the answer. Just like the other night when you asked him about his line of work, Shuji cannot provide with an actual answer. Having a routine helps raise a teenager who develops a sense of security, improved behavior and healthy habits— none of which Hanma Shuji had at fourteen. He doesn’t remember a day where his mother wasn’t drunk, but he doesn’t blame her for it. At thirteen, he catches his father in bed with another woman. He doesn’t hesitate to tell his mom, and from then on develops a raging hatred for his old man. His father tries to crawl back into his life on many occasions, but one stands out the most to the dark haired boy.

It’s a few hours until midnight, his mother was wasted on the couch and Shuji sits at the kitchen table with a chocolate bar and one lit, thin candle. There were no happy birthdays, no clapping like the previous years—just a home that was slowly crumbling and a boy easing his way into a life of drugs and violence. He hears a knock at the door, at first not bothering to get it, when the banging intensifies is when he reaches for the door knob and twists.

“Shuji my son!” Stands the serial cheater with a pathetic look on his face. “I missed you, how are you—“

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Never had the boy spoken to his father in such tone, but the adult’s responsible and authoritative image was gone along with their memories together.

“To check on you of course--!”

That night, Hanma discovers two things. One, he is good at throwing punches. Perhaps, the best and worst thing his father’s ever done was to make him watch boxing matches with him as a kid. Two, he learns how to treat his own wounds without his drunken mother stirring awake and tossing an empty beer bottle at him.

Amidst the chaos that was his personal life, a mom that was barely present and a father having long forgotten about the family he’s made, you were the only constant in Hanma’s life. For twelve months, three hundred and sixty five days—you offered the boy what his parents failed to do for the first twelve years of his life, before eventually giving up. It’s ironic how the number twelve keeps finding him over and over again. He drops you near Okube koreatown at 9:12PM, texts you this morning at 10:12AM, doesn’t hear from you for twelve years—he hopes he doesn’t wait for another twelve to earn a seat in the comfort of your heart.

As he comes back to his senses, he notices that you’re scanning his face with a newfound curiosity—most likely wondering what’s taking him so long to reply.

“Just wanna catch up,” he grabs the menu and scans the options for coffe. “For old times’ sake.”

“Could you at least try to sound believable?” you make a face at his ridiculous statement. Despite not having seen the man for so long, you knew based on the bored expression and nonchalance about life that he hasn’t had anything exciting going on in his life for some time now.

“If I did, I’d kiss you.” He sets the menu down, now fully staring at you. “Does that sound believable to you?”

So…Blunt.

“Seriously—“

“Why did you leave?” His voice is back to its bored tone, he takes off his glasses and rubs the bridge of his nose. “You know, that summer. I know we grew apart, but why did you leave?”

“I needed to start a new chapter.” You weren’t lying, but you weren’t saying the truth either. Starting fresh, enrolling into a college in a different city—those were the excuses you made for yourself and your parents in order to convince them of this huge step. Life was a mess during your first year, you dated a guy and broke up with him after a few months. There was no chemistry, yet he still ended up being the one to take your virginity. Tumbling like a house of cards, your plans for the perfect love life and its elaborate structure fell apart by the gentlest touch of Shuji’s lips. He had been your first kiss, the first to put his lips against yours, steal away something you’d cherished so dearly—annoyingly, you weren’t mad. You remember vividly the longing you felt for his lips days after the shared kiss, wanting to feel more of his touch, wondering if a kiss on the forehead would ever happen.

It triggered a chain of thoughts that was unstoppable like a relentless river. It sculpted its route through the toughest ground, unyielding in its attempt to carve Shuji’s touch into your memory. Now, he existed in both realms for you. A boy that had once seemed so intimidating being the subject of your dreams was your last straw. Therefore, you left.

“How did it go?” he stares deep into your eyes, striving to pierce through your soul and read you to filth. You aren’t sure if he’s always been like this, or if it’s something life had to teach him. Your eyes drift to his hands, noticing the familiar sin & punishment tattoos carved onto his skin. It makes your own prickle, the ghost of a searing touch tickling the back of your hands.

“How did what go?”

“The new chapter.” He adds stress on the last two words, the hint of a smirk hovering over the edge of his lips.

“It was okay, I have some friends at work,” he seems to find that funny as he snorts.

“Those aren’t your friends, baby girl. Those are your colleagues.”

“They can also be my friends,” you glare annoyingly. You don’t like when people assume they know you better than yourself, and Hanma wasn’t an exception.

He leans back against the dark leather seat, lips twitching with amusement. “Sure they can.”

The waiter come and takes your orders—a breakfast combo of pancakes, eggs and bacon for Hanma, and pancake stacks for you. He opts for a double espresso and you choose a café latte. The conversation afterwards is very limited, but neither of you seem to mind the silence. You notice how Hanma glances at his phone more than a few times, typing not so aggressively on his screen. It makes you wonder yet again—what does he do for a living?

Your food comes and you eat it silently, Shuji steals glances at you to assure that you’re enjoying the food and is amused when he sees the expression of happiness painting your features. The pancakes are light and airy with a hint of sweetness that complements the velvety smoothness of the butter. You feel like you’re floating, indulging into a celebration of comfort before you’re brought back to reality.

When it’s time to leave, Hanma’s hand finds the small of your back. A gesture as natural to him as breathing, and you fold like a house of cards in a soft breeze. You let him guide you to the car, and the silence finally comes to a halt once the door to the driver’s side opens.

“Thank you for the food.”

Hanma seems to freeze at your words, but he recovers quickly and starts the car. Without sparing you a glance, he drives off. “It’s nothing.”

“Did you stay in touch with some friends from back then?”

“Yeah, Chifuyu and I are kinda close but he works abroad so we never got the chance to meet.”

Chifuyu Matsuno. The name is more than just familiar, Hanma knows the man personally. He remembers him in his teenage years as this annoying blonde guy who would always interfere on his missions, and as Toman grew and spread its vines over the streets of Tokyo, dominating each corner, the two men were forced to interact more than either of them would enjoy. They barely acknowledged each other’s presence as kids, which was also the case for them as adult men. But upon hearing Chifuyu’s lie, Hanma can’t help but wonder just how little you know about gangs in Tokyo.

“Works abroad hm,” he taps his fingers on the steering wheel at a red light, glancing at his watch. “Did he tell you what he does exactly?”

“I never bothered to ask,” you admit. Sure, you stayed in contact but everytime you tried to ask the dark haired male what he does abroad, he would switch the topic to something else. So you dropped it. A part of you was uneasy about the whole thing, how he disappears for days and then randomly texts you from a new number—tells you it’s temporary before switching back to his old phone number.

As a law abiding citizen, you are no expert when it comes to running away from the law. However, you’ve always suspected that the group of delinquents Chifuyu and Takemichi would hang out with were up to no good, even as teenagers. Revenge crimes, visceral and intense fights. It was ruthless back then, the teenagers combatting one another with a ferocity that left you disinterested and repulsed.

Moving back to Shinjuku refreshes your memory a bit. Years spent away from your hometown made you forget about the violence you had witnessed as an adolescent. Prior to meeting Hanma Shuji, Chifuyu boasted about Toman all the time. He had introduced you to the concept of biker gangs, mentioning each and every name he could remember. Black dragons, Tenjuku, Valhalla—and obviously the one he was in. A notorious and influential force on the streets of Tokyo, operating under the command of Sano Manjiro himself. You understood the pride Chifuyu took in belonging to such a well organized biker gang, perhaps finding it fascinating that they were able to function within such structured hierarchy.

Upon hearing that Chifuyu lost his friend in one of these brutal fights, you lost interest in them. But the names are like shadows that forever linger at the tip of your tongue.

Before leaving Tokyo, you had heard that Toman was spreading. Like a creeping shadow of dusk, it’s enveloped the town. Its influence a ferocious power that couldn’t be stopped but the thought of it performing illegal activities never crossed your mind. You’d turn on the TV every once in a while and frown when there’s yet another morbid announcement.

Breaking news: "Two people identified to be 26 year old HINATA TACHIBANA and 25 year old NAOTO TACHIBANA tragically die amidst a violent clash between two rival gangs, one of which identified as the Tokyo Manji Gang."

Your memory is like a dusty attic and upon hearing the familiar name, your heart stills. Like a treasure long forgotten, craving to be discovered, Toman reappears at the forefront of your mind. A timeworn tapestry, each thread holding the echoes of past and barely any interactions with the biker gang.

Reaching for your phone, your thumbs hover over the screen, contemplating whether you should start typing the message. Surely, you were wrong. There was no way for someone as sweet as him to be involved in such monstrous group of people.

hey

you haven’t texted me in a while

how’s everything?

You received a response five days later from an unknown number. It served as proof to confirm your suspicions.

Glancing back at Hanma, your eyes take in every small detail about the man. From his freshly shaved beard, his sharp jawline and cheeks littered with barely visible acne scars—to his lips that happen to sit in their usual frown. His lashes are surprisingly long, they flutter against his cheeks every time he blinks. Stealing a quick glance at his neck, there’s a tantalizing glimpse of dark ink peeking from beneath the fabric of his top. You let your brain go over the never ending possibilities of what could be adorning his skin, somehow leading you down a path of sinful fantasies—you pinch your own thigh.

He exudes an aura of authority and power, his confident and composed demeanor enhancing his charm. For now, you leave the subject of his work at the table and walk away from it with a shadow of doubt. You’ll come back to it when ready.

You ignore the gnawing feeling that you should look more into it, that youu should press him about the matter. Clearly, he's not ready to talk about it.

Or he simply can't.

➜ ┊: here's chapter 2! i have a whole list of headcanons concerning shuji's past or rather childhood and none of them are happy. but you'll notice that stuff like that comes haunting him back as an adult. anyway, hope you enjoyed reading!

2024 © all works belong to @slttygeto. do not repost, translate or steal any of my works.

#moon's works #[echoes of time]#tokyo revengers #hanma shuji x reader #hanma shuji #tr hanma shuji #hanma x reader #hanma fanfic #tokyo revengers fanfic series #fanfic series #tokyo revengers hanma #tokyo revengers fluff #tokyo revengers angst #hanma fluff #hanma angst

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casualaruanienjoyer · 4 months ago

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Hi Stella 💕

What do AOT characters do to de-stress after a hard day?

Helloo!! I hope you're having an AMAZING day! Thank you for sending me this!

What do AOT characters do to de-stress after a hard day?

Eren: He likes to sit and chat with his friends, maybe play some games together. He's having fun until others start winning instead, and then ends up sulking in the corner. This was supposed to be about HIM!

Mikasa: Jogging! What better way to get rid of your stress than by running away from it? She likes listening to music and taking scenic routes around town. Some people say she's still jogging to this very day.

Armin: Nothing beats chilling in bed and reading a book that he loves. Get all comfortable, pjs on, hot drink by his side, reading light on. This man knows where it's at!

Annie: She will, most likely, be cuddling up to Armin as he reads. Sometimes she enjoys doing crosswords together, read mystery books or scroll on her phone. It's quiet, but they both enjoy this shared silence.

Jean, Reiner, Onyankopon: What better way to unwind than to go to a bar with your friends. After a particularly stressful day, you can find Jean, Reiner, and Onyankopon drinking in town. It's all fun and games until Jean and Reiner start making out and Onyankopon becomes the third wheel. Every fucking time.

Pieck: Bath time! This woman will spend HOURS in the bathroom, reading or watching movies while taking a hot bath. She has many bath bombs, scented candles and the sorts. She completely ignores everyone who bangs the door.

Connie, Sasha, Gabi, Falco, Historia, Ymir: These guys have a D&D campaign going and they are DEDICATED. Falco somehow ended up being the dm and he's been so evil with his players. Connie is on death saves, Sasha is already on her second character, Historia and Ymir still have no idea how to play and Gabi's killing all his npcs. Everyone is screaming. Ah yes, truly a relaxing activity for them.

Levi and Hange: They enjoy having tea in the living room together. Hange's brought a bunch of foreign tea flavours and each time they meet like this they try a new one. They even made a score board to see which one will win by the end of it.

Zeke: This man comes home, strips down to his underwear and just watches TV, dad style. Maybe even drink a beer and eat some chips. Nothing beats this freedom.

Yelena: Sometimes when she isn't plotting the destruction of the world in her spare time, she will go out on dates. She's seen so many people that she lost count. It's not that she's looking for anything serious, but DAMN it feels nice to eat for free every day.

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megumimania · 1 year ago

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AOT LONDON BOY HCS PT 2

featuring: reiner, onyankopon, armin

a/n: this is part two of these hcs, part one is here! thanks for tuning in its kinda rushed my bad 😪, likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

ARMIN

-armin would be from islington or finchley maybe even south, but I don’t see him living in like bougie areas such as kensington or chelsea or like richmond

- him and eren went to the same primary and secondary together

-armin was literally his get out of jail free card because of his stellar reputation in academics

-he always gets free stuff from the corner shop or the chicken and chip shop

-doesn’t own a car, he either bikes or takes the tube because he cares about the environment and doesn’t want to add onto the extra pollution in london

-his dress sense is very casual like a t shirt, a pair of loose fitted trousers and some trainers but when he cant be bothered he’ll wear a tech fleece

-he has a very good sense of direction, like he knows the fastest routes for anything, like when eren and connie dragged him to carni (if you went this year im saur jealous 😩 but anyways) and it was time to get home armin found a quicker route that got them back pretty fast

-knows all the best secret spots in london for anything! which makes hanging out with him more fun because you experience a new part of london when you’re together

-he isnt a fan of eren’s scamming ways but when eren asks for help he always answers as long as he’s not a part of it

-london men i feel like are terrible with their feelings but armin is the exception, he would be very open with you about his feelings and such

-reads so much, you’ll catch him at hyde park or greenwich park reading till the sun sets

-he smokes cigarettes but he’s trying to cut it out for you

-his playlist would be very diverse since he’s been brought up in a multicultural area, like it would go from bashment, to rnb, drill to pop

-unlike his unserious counterparts *cough cough* eren and connie, he’s very loyal!

ONYANKOPON

-my ghanaian king, shoutout to my ghanaians!!

-he speaks twi so well that people forget he was brought up in the uk

-he would be from peckham or lewisham for suree, he’s deffo been dragged around by his mum round rye lane market on a saturday morning carrying that trolley with him

-he goes to a pentecostal church, he’s always leading youth service and helping out at church events.

-the aunties love him for this because he’s the perfect son that they don’t have and they just love him in general

-ony can cook and im being for real, so you guys never eat out unless ony wants to show you to a new niche restaurant somewhere

-he has snap but doesn’t have a bitmoji because he thinks it’s immature 😕 but eventually he caves and makes one because you ask him too

-hes always promoting his boys stuff whether that be music,

-he deffo went to an all boys secondary and then he went to a mixed sixth form after, he gives me those vibes

-he used to go to the library to link girls after school 😭 he had a big playboy phase but hes calmed down

-he used to be one of those people at stratford westfield trying to sell you magazines before you enter

-hes not stingy with his money, hes always spoiling the people he loves

-he has a bunch of caps and grills that he likes to rotate out weekly, he has great style

-he works in corporate london so its rare that you dont see him outside of a suit and tie but he always makes time for you

-ony is always holding your bag for dear life when you go to bait areas like oxford street or westfields or like the tourist spots because people be getting their shit stolen loool

-he loves late night tesco trips anything that he can do at night i.e late night walks, drives etc

-bossman is always giving him discounts on stuff because ony is loyal customer.

REINER

-look at that man and tell me he wouldnt be from essex tell me!! like thats pure dagenham material right there

-if you search up a typical person from essex, he would come up

-he probably owns those skintight chinos with those ugly polos with the church shoes

-he tries to downplay his accent a bit since sometimes its hard to understand him but when hes upset his accent comes through in full force

-always at spoons or at the club till early hours

-reiner gives me bricklayer vibes so thats what im gonna roll with

-when he comes home from work in summer hes like hot and sweaty but it makes his biceps glow so its kinda sexy idk

-has a bunch of tattoos, most of them are birthdays of family members and a picture of his grandma who passed away

-has a british bulldog called belle, the dog is fucking scary but reiner thinks the world of her and thinks she can do no wrong

-listens to mainly dnb, garage, techno

-downs pints at the pub like it’s nothing, he has a high alcohol tolerance

-proper geezer that’s all i have to say tbh!

#aot x reader #armin x reader #onyankopon x reader #attack on titan #aot fluff #aot headcanons #vina writes #aot reiner #aot x black!reader #black writblr #aot x black reader #armin attack on titan #armin arlert x reader #aot onyankopon #reiner braun #aot

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pinkmirth · 2 years ago

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What do you think Reiner and his s/o would argue about in a relationship? I can't imagine it would last long

BACK TALK, reiner braun !

SYNOPSIS — just a fluffy lil drabble about reiner wanting to take care of you. he doesn’t want to argue, but you’re just so stubborn…

CONTAINS — 1k words of . . . fluff, fem!reader (black coded), “girly-girl” reader, reiner feeds you, lowercase intended, just sappy stuff with this caring gentleman <3 (kinda sorta self indulgent!)

this is a tough one, nonnie…. only because maturity is reiner’s best attribute! picking a problem with you is the last thing this man wants to do, and he’s very slow to anger. you’re right about any disputes not lasting long! even if he tried, reiner can’t stay mad at you.

the most that could happen between you and him are petty squabbles about preferences, something dumb like waffles over pancakes! the pair of you ultimately laugh it off and end up cuddling once all is said and done. It’s hard to envision a topic that could stir such a reaction from him to the point where he’s arguing with you. i think the only thing that would get him going back and forth in an “argument” is if he’s worried about you, but you decide to be stubborn with him.

for instance, you’re tired and have been studying all day, and he just wants you to allow yourself to relax. but! you’re persistent on finishing up your assignments. he’d probably grow upset and insist that you deserve a break . . . (veryyy self indulgent ‘cause i’ve been studying for a gajillion tests lately!)

dull thuds of reiner’s heavy footsteps upon carpet announce his entrance into your room. he strolls around your cozy little home-desk, the one he helped you build a couple months back when the school semester first began. it’s adorned in sanrio stickers galore and polaroid pictures of you and him, nostalgic square photos secured with baby-pink thumbtacks. reiner circles you with a brooding silence, flitting his eyes from the slideshow on your laptop screen to your scribbled notes. you feel him linger behind your chair, but opt on saying nothing.

“baby, c’mon…” reiner calls out, his tone borderline pleading, “you’ve been here for hours.” from behind your seat, he inches in until he’s close enough to rest his weighty hands on your stiffened shoulders. reiner’s warm palms rub along the junction of your neck. it’s helping— he can see it in the way your body slackens in your swivel chair.

“i gotta prep for tomorrow’s test,” his touch brings you to release a lax hum, but you don’t allow yourself to dwell on it for long. the fleeting moment of bliss he provides ends too soon, as you smooth out your oversized baby-pink tee-shirt and begin to refocus on your work.

“have you eaten?” he asks. the shake of your head brings about his frown. you could surely get your work done without depriving yourself of basic needs… all he wants is for you to be well taken care of. “no, not yet.” you spare him a glance before looking back over your laptop.

reiner’s hand shoots out, grabbing your chair and turning you halfway-round to face him. the closeness of his face to yours makes it seem like the perfect opportunity to press your lips to his and linger there for a while. instead, you remain still, choosing a safer route by stealing glances of his handsome attributes. your eyes run across his prominent collarbone peeking through his low-neck sweatshirt, the slight clench of his firm jaw, most especially the raw concern swimming in his honey-golden eyes. “why not?” reiner questions, with his brows drawn tight in worry. you whirl back around, for the sake of your own resolve.

“because i’m studying, reiner.”

“no, you’re cramming.” he corrects. reiner can read you like a damn storybook; it’s almost as though he knows you more than his very own self. “at least i’m drinking water,” you raise a bottle from your desk for emphasis. water sloshes in the cylindrical confines as you set it back down, “happy?”

reiner rolls his tongue and prods at his inner cheek. he decides to pay no mind to your little attitude. “water’s fine, but you need food.”

“a meal would be too heavy for me... i’d probably end up falling asleep.” you haphazardly shoo his suggestion, scribbling bullet points onto your notebook.

“so a snack would be better, then? your favorite fruit is in the fridge downstairs.” reiner turns on his heel, intent on coming back with a bowl of nicely-cut strawberries and mangoes. you reach out, clasping onto him forearm before he zips out of your room and descends the flight of stairs. “it’s okay, reiner.” you assure. the ends of your manicured nails ghost his wrist.

“is it really? ‘cause it’s hard to believe that you don’t want me to get anything at all.” he quirks up a thin brow as he says it. reiner knows just how much you need his support— you’re simply choosing to act like you don’t.

“i’ll get somethin’ to eat later, i promise.” with the twirl of your ballpoint-pen, you’re back to writing. this is his third time checking up on you, and you give him the same answer with every visit. all this stubbornness has gone on long enough.

“you may be busy, but you’re also tired.” he's quick to snatch the pen from your hands, right in the middle of you scrawling a sentence onto lined paper. “hey! reiner, give it—”

“nuh-uh. stop bein’ difficult about it.” he plants a large hand onto the back of your macbook and shuts it closed. you do an over-exaggerated huff, make a pout, throw in a bratty eye roll— he doesn’t care for it. what you need is to allow him take care of you. he can’t let his darling work herself to death, now can he? not in a literal sense, but he wouldn’t forgive himself for allowing this to continue.

“i’ll be right back, okay? and for the love of god, don’t open that goddamn laptop.” he makes his leave. you hear the faint hum of a microwave. it doesn’t take long for him to return, with a steaming plate of food in hand. reiner takes joy in replacing that stupid notebook of yours with the reheated dinner that he cooked up for you over an hour ago.

he pulls up a seat, scoots in close, and brings a hot forkful up to your mouth. “don’t argue. just eat, baby.”

this sly man knows that it’s your favorite food. you have no energy left to brush him off. finally, you give in. with a soft ‘ah’, you allow reiner to feed you. there’s a satisfied gleam in his eye as he stuffs your mouth with bite after bite.

“it’s good?” he softly asks. you cover your mouth while chewing, giving him a sheepish nod. “mm-hm.”

“you feel better, don’t you?” reiner nudges your shoulder with his broader one. you don’t try to fight the smile overtaking your lips. “i do…” you relent, looping your arms around his neck. he firmly hugs you in one arm, and uses his unoccupied hand to hold onto the ceramic plate. over half of the food’s gone.

he hears your quiet, sincere ‘thank you’ murmured into his chest, feels your frame relax against his. “good.” reiner sighs into your hair. he wants you to put yourself first, every single time. “that’s good.”

751 notes · View notes

callie-the-creator · 7 months ago

Text

bertholdt dating a deaf reader would include...

sfw. warnings: mentions of bullying.

author’s note: this was posted on my wattpad, so there is no need to worry if you see it there. other than that, there is nothing else to add!

• in all honesty, how it was revealed that you were deaf was a little embarrassing. it happened during the first day of the cadet corps when everyone was being debriefed and publicly humiliated in front of each other because commander shadis wanted to ensure every abled person was morphed into a model soldier. it didn't take long for it to be your turn.

— "sorry, sir! i can't hear you!" shadis, at first, thought you were being a smartass and before he could yell at you some more, you added, "i'm deaf!"

— "then why the hell are you here?!"

• from there, you explained that you wanted to not so much fight for humanity by physically driving the titans back but stay back and help formulate strategies and plans.

• fortunately, shadis was merciful enough to let you stay, though it took some convincing. that and once his superiors heard about your case, they were torn but eventually you were allowed to train with the others.

• alas, you were completely oblivious to some of the bullying happening behind your back...

• you struggle with communication and social skills, such as simply not understanding a joke that everyone else is laughing at. when that is happening, you usually write down on a piece of paper to ask just what is so funny, but they usually brush you off by either ignoring you, saying "oh, it's nothing", or something of that nature.

• the first few months were hell on earth for you. if anything, you preferred the physical training over anything because that meant you wouldn't have to worry about trying to communicate with any of the other cadets since the same can't be said about sparring or the wasteland excursion training (an exercise where the cadets are split into two groups and make a round trip through the wasteland. they leave the training base at the same time on separate routes, retrieve an object at the checkpoint, and return to base. they exercise aims to test their vigilance in tedious, low-risk situations).

• in terms of bullying, you experienced quite a variety of things. being ostracized, taken advantage of when it came to sparring or other team activities since everyone knew you were at a disadvantage, or people trying to talk to you but you didn't know what they were talking about.

— "can she seriously not hear a thing?"

— "what a weirdo."

— "hey, y/n, can you even speak?"

• bertholdt didn't like how differently everyone was treating you just because you have a disability, it reminded him all too much of his father and the prejudice eldians face from marleyans. so, when he's finally had enough, he steps forward and tells everyone to cut it out. from there, he becomes friends with you and follows you everywhere to help you in any way he can.

— of course, this didn't blow well over with annie or reiner because bertholdt is sympathetic toward the enemy but it's not like they could stop him.

• it's from there where bertholdt did things like open the door for you, carry your things, intentionally pick you to be his partner in sparring so no one else would be rude toward you, try his best to translate things if someone was trying to talk to you (by writing down on a piece of paper).

• obviously, it didn't take long for you to develop feelings for him and the same can be said for bertholdt! ☺️

— he thought you were so sweet and precious...you needed to be protected and although he wasn't the best option for this, he still wanted to do his best to make you feel safe.

• so...within a few weeks, you two started going out! bertholdt couldn't care less about the stares he got— he was used to them— but if you ever pointed it out, he would make up excuses to make it seem like the judgmental glares were aimed toward him and not you. it wasn't like he wasn't used to it already and the last thing he wanted was to see you unhappy.

• a few years went by and close to graduation, shadis gathered everyone to tell them that the government had been working on a way to communicate with the hearing-impaired. sign language. shadis said it would be easier to talk to you that way. many people were against learning it because they thought of it as a waste of their time, saying that they had enough issues learning the specifics of titan killing.

— all in all, the only people that were willing to learn— aside from you— were christa, mikasa, bertholdt, armin, and connie & sasha (even though they can be a bunch of numbskulls at times).

• bertholdt spent many nights trying to perfect his sign language. it sort of pissed off some of the other guys in the cabin because of just how late he would stay up! he can't remember how many times he's accidentally pulled an all-nighter and only knew when he heard the bell for muster.

• when he signed to you the first time during supper, he was so nervous, afraid that he might offend you if he messed up any of the signs but was relieved and proud of himself when you understood him and offered to teach him some more which he gleefully agreed to.

• bertholdt likes that you two have this language that not everyone in the cadet corps can understand, that way he can be cute with you without the other boys knowing and making fun of him for it

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whats-her-quirk · 6 months ago

Text

Secret Oath Chapter 5

last || m.list || next

➷➷➷➷➷

marco bott x fem!reader

18+ mdni

word count: 5k

chapter warnings: mentions of underage drinking, sexual innuendo, brief bi panic, reader sits in a shopping cart and conditions her hair

a/n: made it in just under the 2 year mark with a new update. guys...

♪ farewell andromeda (welcome to my morning) by john denver

➷➷➷➷➷

When you’re not chasing grade schoolers from place to place, there are only so many things to do at camp. After hiking, swimming, reading, and just generally hanging out around a campfire in your free time, you tend to get a little desperate for a change of pace. With a little planning ahead, Ymir has secured everybody a night off for a Wal-Mart trip, and by the end of a long week, the idea of hitting up the only nearby grocery store is genuinely as exciting as a ticket to Disneyland.

Camp Shiganshina is at least fifteen square miles from anywhere, so walking to town is out of the question. You spend dinnertime trying to figure out the carpool situation, and it turns out not everyone is coming along. Bertholdt twisted his ankle playing basketball, so he’s staying in the cabin for rest, ice, compression, and elevation on Nanaba’s orders. Eren and Mikasa also decline for unknown reasons, but they’re always weird like that, and only Jean seems disappointed. That leaves seven of you, and there’s only one vehicle in the parking lot that can fit that many passengers.

Erwin is surprisingly chill with the idea of letting you borrow the company van. “Why take two cars when you can all fit in there?” he reasoned when you, Reiner, and Hitch went to ask him together. “There’s no sense wasting your gas, and you’ll be safer if you all stick together.”

“Don’t worry, sir. I’ll make sure everybody’s taken care of,” says Reiner, flexing so hard you hear a thread snap in his t-shirt.

Erwin laughs, big and exuberant and sincere. “Of course! You have my trust.”

After running back to the cabin to toss your wallet and other necessities in a bag, you meet in the parking lot outside the mess hall. Erwin and Miche are leaning against the front of the van chatting while everyone loads up. Hitch dances her way over to them, holding out a hand to Erwin. “Keys, please!”

Erwin dangles a keychain as old as the vehicle itself above her palm before quirking a thick brow at her. “You are not to go over 55 miles per hour on the state route. You are not to exceed 35 on the side roads. And everyone wears their seatbelts. Understood?”

Perhaps startled by his serious tone, Hitch dials herself back. “Yes, sir.” He smiles and nods as he drops the keys in her hand, and she scuttles away to the driver’s seat.

Miche nudges you with his elbow. “Will you text me when you get there safe?”

You roll your eyes, hiding how sweet you find it. “Whatever, dad.” He makes a face at you. You stick out your tongue.

“Hey loser, you got bitch seat,” Ymir calls for you out the sliding door of the van.

You whirl around. “Historia is the smallest, why can’t she sit in the back?”

“We drew straws or something, I don’t know. Got a problem with that?” You’re used to the sass, but when she nods her head to the back of the van, it clicks. Marco and Jean sit on opposite ends of the third row bench seat—of course the middle is reserved for you.

You squeeze your way between the two bucket seats in the middle row, making sure to step and lean on Ymir as much as possible as you climb over her, just to be annoying. Tucking your bag between your feet, you manage to wedge yourself between the boys, shoulder to shoulder.

“Cozy,” you chuckle.

Jean reaches for the handle above the side window, making a little more space between you. “It’s not that far, at least.”

You pat behind both hips looking for your seat belt before you realize Marco is sitting on it. You start to reach for it, freezing only inches from his ass. “Uh, Marco. Can you scoot—”

Marco looks down where your leg is pressed against his. “Oh yeah! Uh…”

He twists as far as he can, already buckled, trying to lift his hip out of your way. You reach under him quickly, but your knuckles definitely drag across his back pocket. You click your buckle and then sit stiff as a board, hyper-aware of the fact that you fully touched his butt.

“Jesus Christ,” Jean mutters, sending you and Marco into a fit of laughter as Hitch backs out of the parking spot.

The first several minutes of the drive are spent messing with the music. Ymir shouts for Reiner to switch over to the radio, but every time he tries, it switches itself back to the tape deck after a few seconds. The cassette won’t eject, so your options are a John Denver single or silence.

“Leave it, this is a great song!” Historia begs. Neither Ymir nor Reiner will say no to her, but at least it’s Take Me Home Country Roads.

You’re a little embarrassed at first, but Marco nudges you after the first chorus. “Come on, I know you know the words. Everybody knows this song!”

You can feel your cheeks burning. “You just wanna make me sing.”

“Maybe I do.”

Historia is already singing, and when you start, so does Marco. Jean pipes up, and so does Reiner, and soon, everyone is belting the chorus.

There are only two songs on the cassette, and the B-side must have been less popular, because nobody knows the words to it. The van quiets down, but Marco still hums along. When you give him a surprised look, he blushes.

“My mom loves John Denver. I recognize the melody.”

It’s funny when Take Me Home repeats and prompts a second singalong, but by the fourth time the tape flips over, no one is singing anymore. Hitch turns the volume down to a faint rumble, and before long, you pull into the nearly empty parking lot of the Wal-Mart.

You stumble out of the back seat, thankful to stretch your legs after being crammed in so tight. You shoot off a text to Miche, letting him know you made it to the store with no casualties, to which he replies k thx kid. You could truly gag.

“Do we need a cart?” Reiner asks as you approach the giant sliding doors.

“Better get a couple,” you reply, pulling one from the stack. You know you want to buy snacks, grab a couple packs of Gatorade, and probably beg Ymir to get you some alcohol to smuggle away, and you’re not carrying all that around by yourself.

“Is there, like, no one here?” Jean asks, stepping through the second set of doors. “I swear it feels like it’s closed.”

“Relax, there are other cars outside.” Ymir rides her cart past him like a scooter, pumping her foot for a few paces before jumping on the bottom rail and gliding down the center aisle.

“What do we need to get?” Historia asks, scrambling after her.

“I’m heading for food and drinks,” you announce, pointing your cart toward the grocery section. Marco and Jean drift that way along with you.

“I need another pair of flip flops,” says Hitch. She and Reiner start to head the other way, where you’re sure she’ll find much more than just a pair of flip flops.

“I’m out of shampoo,” says Historia.

“And I want one of those things that you can make a grilled cheese with over the campfire. Everyone get what you want and then meet back at the pharmacy. And…go!” Ymir takes a running start, then rides her shopping cart out of sight as you head for the groceries.

You lose Jean somewhere around the Pop Tarts.

“Where did he go? Wasn’t he just behind us?” Marco asks, pushing the cart beside you in the beverage aisle.

“Either he wandered off or he’s looking for us just as fast as we’re looking for him.” You stop to heave a twelve pack of purple Gatorade on the bottom rack of the cart, making the whole thing rattle. You try to hide how heavy you’re breathing as you reach up toward the top shelf for another multi-pack.

“Want me to get those for you?” Marco asks.

“Sure, grab a pack of blue ones, please.”

Marco loads them under the cart for you, then takes the handle with a smirk. “Woah, this is super bottom-heavy now. Gonna need to counterbalance with something.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Counterbalance?”

Marco chuckles. “Just get in the cart. You know you want to.”

“Ride in the cart? What am I, five?” You scoff, fully pretending that you don’t want to take him up on the offer.

“If we’re going to find Jean before Ymir destroys the pharmacy out of boredom, we gotta pick up the pace.”

You poke him in the chest. “Sir, you are being especially wild tonight.”

“Must be the fluorescents.”

Marco holds the cart steady while you flop inside the main basket. It’s a tight squeeze, but when you dangle your feet out of the front, it’s almost comfortable. Once you’re situated, Marco pushes you down a few more aisles while you point out the snacks you want, and he piles them on top of you.

Armed with fruit snacks, cheese crackers, and a bottle of pre-made margaritas to make Ymir buy for you, Marco zips down the dessert aisle and grabs three boxes of Little Debbies. ”Guilty pleasure” he says with a bashful shrug. “I swear I’m not going to eat them all in one sitting.”

“I didn’t assume so, but hey, no judgment here.” You shrug, motioning at the mountain of snacks in your lap. You’re not terribly concerned with eating clean and healthy every day this summer, especially not when you’re sweating buckets and trudging up and down the hill all day anyway.

Marco laughs. “Maybe when I was sixteen and super active. But now I think that would end me.”

“Oh?” You can’t help it—you’re insanely curious. “Were you a jock in high school?”

Marco rubs the back of his neck. “I’m not sure I’d say that, but I played hockey for a long time.”

While you’d spent many afternoons daydreaming about him in football pads or tight baseball pants, something about the thought of Marco in a hockey uniform just makes sense. “Oh wow, hockey’s a big deal where you’re from, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, in Minnesota, it’s super popular. A lot of kids start playing pretty young.”

“Do you still play? I’ll admit, I don’t really know anything about hockey but I think it looks pretty cool.”

“I play on the university’s club team during the school year. We travel and play against other schools, but we’re a step below the official team. It’s fun, but none of us are going pro, you know?” Marco’s cheeks turn a strawberry pink, his eyes falling to the shelves of cereal boxes beside him. “Maybe you can come to a game sometime.”

“I absolutely will. I want to see you body check someone.” You’re giddy just thinking about it.

That makes Marco laugh. “Maybe if you’re lucky.”

You round the corner of the next aisle and finally find Jean with a tub of pretzels under one arm and a case of Red Bull under the other. He notices you laughing and riding in the cart, and he gives you a look.

“Um. Where am I supposed to put these?”

“Here, fine, but you have to help me get out.”

“Don’t crush my zebra cakes!” Marco pleads.

Jean puts down his snacks and pulls you up out of the basket while Marco holds onto the cart, making sure you don’t get dumped out on the floor. Once Jean’s stuff takes your place, the three of you head for the pharmacy.

You find Ymir in personal care, waiting with the cart while Historia picks out hair products. Their basket is full of sheet masks, candy, a fleece blanket, and four of those sandwich irons Ymir wanted. When you pull up next to her, she invites herself to poke around in your cart.

“Are you feeding an army?”

“No, just stocking up.” Shooing her hands away, you slide the booze into her cart. “A gift from you to me.”

“Wow, ok. How presumptuous.” She fakes a scoff, but you know she doesn’t mind or care.

“Oh. I thought you wanted me to get that for you,” Marco says. “I guess it doesn’t matter who buys it but—”

You don’t really intend to cut him off, but you’re surprised. “I didn’t think you were 21.”

“I wasn’t… until last week.”

“Marco!” You can’t stop yourself. It just comes out.

“What?”

“Was it your birthday last week?”

Marco looks nervous. Almost frightened.

“Yeah.”

You push the cart out of the way to get closer. “Your twenty-first birthday?”

“Yeah?”

“And you didn’t tell us?” You’re yelling. You’re in the middle of a practically deserted Wal-Mart Superstore at 11 o’clock at night, and you’re yelling.

“Oh my god, yes,” Marco laughs, incredulous. “I didn’t want anybody to make a big deal about it. Now please calm down before you get carded and we all get in trouble.” He’s right, you’re causing a scene, and it makes your own cheeks burn. You don’t intend to forget about this, though.

“Well shit,” Ymir quips. She reaches for the margarita bottle and shoves it into Marco’s hands. “Then you can buy the lady her liquor.”

“Yes ma’am.” Marco puts the bottle back in your cart.

Ymir pretends to gag. “Do not call me that.”

“Hey, kids!” Hitch sails by into the next aisle, waving, Reiner hurriedly following her with their nearly full cart. You all follow, rounding the corner before you realize you’re congregating in front of the contraception. It shouldn’t be a big deal—you’re adults, after all—but it’s not easy to be totally mature looking at a wall of condoms, especially with this group.

Hitch picks out a box of ultra thins, remarking, “For me,” as if you all really needed to know. Then she reaches for a box of magnums. Just as soon as you start to raise an eyebrow, she declares, “And for Bertie.”

“He wanted you to buy him condoms?” Reiner asks, sounding genuinely dumbfounded. Meanwhile, Marco looks pointedly at the tampons on the opposite side of the aisle, and Jean snickers like a complete dork.

“No,” Hitch smirks. “But he told me Annie is visiting next week. Gotta make sure he’s prepared.”

Ymir scoffs. “Fucking gross that they package those in gold like your jumbo dong is some sort of prize.” Then she reaches up to one of the higher shelves, asking nonchalantly, “Hey, baby, do you want warming lube this time? I think we’re almost out.”

It’s the kind of deeply intimate detail she normally has no problem sharing, but almost as soon as she says it, she freezes.

Reiner loudly clears his throat. “Who are you talking to?”

Nobody moves.

“Um.” Ymir rocks on her heels. Her eyes jump from person to person, searching. “Uh, Jean—”

Jean snorts. “Not even—”

“Ew. You’re right, that’s disgusting.”

“She was talking to me, Reiner,” Historia explains calmly. “Ymir is my girlfriend.”

Reiner barks out a laugh, but it fades quickly. He seems to realize she’s not joking just as Hitch and Jean fall apart, giggling. You have half a mind to abandon all your snacks and go hide in the van, you’re so secondhand embarrassed. You should never have gone along with this.

Ymir crosses her arms proudly and leans against Historia’s side, though you’re not really sure if Ymir is winning or losing her own game anymore.

Hitch, pulling herself together, pats Reiner on the back. “Let’s go check out so we can get out of here.”

Fixing his own face, Reiner stammers, “Yeah. We should… yeah.” Almost tenderly, Hitch puts a hand on the front of their shopping cart, steering Reiner toward the registers as he follows behind.

Historia’s hands drop to her hips, and she gives Ymir a look. “Are you happy now?”

Ymir shrugs. “Pretty much.” Huffing, Historia takes off with their cart.

“Meet you at the front, baby girl,” Ymir calls.

Marco, his face beet red, reaches for your cart, but Ymir blocks one of the front wheels with her foot.

“Hold on, birthday boy.” She grabs a basic box of condoms and pushes it into Marco’s hands. His fingers don’t close around it—he drops it on the floor like it’s on fire.

Ymir snatches the box and shoves it back at him. “You’re gonna need these, trust me,” she snorts, and that familiar, overwhelming urge to smother her washes over you.

Marco, cheeks burning, flaps his lips a few times, but no words come out. Slowly, like he’s thinking hard, he puts the box back on the shelf.

You look away, your stomach dropping. You get that he’s embarrassed—Ymir is crossing a lot of lines—and it’s not like you didn’t pack a box of condoms in your suitcase, so you’ll have some if you need them. But now, you just want to get out of here because if you let yourself think about it for one more second, it’ll hit you all at once that Marco is just a really nice person who was never actually flirting with you and doesn’t like you back.

You allow yourself one last glance over your shoulder to see if Marco is coming with your cart before you go lay in the road and wait for traffic.

Your breath catches when you see him drop a black and gold box, identical to the one Hitch picked out for Bert, into the cart.

Screaming in your head, you power walk past the checkout. Marco will have to pay for everything because there’s alcohol in the cart, so you wait by the exit like an idiot while trying to act casual, but really, how can you? You’ve only thought about Marco’s dick print a few hundred times, and those condoms practically confirm that he’s really and truly packing. And you want it. You want him so bad—

“Ready?” You blink and Marco is there, everything bagged up and ready to go.

Ymir walks by behind him, silently mouthing, “Jumbo,” and you don’t know whether to thank her or kill her where she stands. You hope neither registers on your face.

In the parking lot, you help Marco load the bags into the van. Now you’re the immature one, wondering which bag the condoms are in, whether they’re touching your Gatorades. You hope to god he bagged them with his damn zebra cakes so you don’t have to negotiate some kind of awkward, presumptuous handoff. He’s definitely smart enough for that. Of course he is.

When you buckle in for the ride home, it’s quiet in the van. Only Hitch talks over her shoulder to Historia about the big game of flashlight tag that Moblit and Hange have organized for tomorrow night. Ymir yawns heavily, and you’re pretty sure Jean already nodded off with his head against the window.

Reiner is silent in the passenger’s seat—if he’s not back to himself by tomorrow, you’re rounding everyone up to apologize. It was mean, what Ymir did to him, and you’re all pretty complicit. But sometimes Reiner bounces back from his moods miraculously, and sometimes he doesn’t. You’ll just have to wait and see what you’re dealing with in the morning.

The John Denver tape plays softly from the speakers. Beside you, Marco hums along, his long legs crammed in behind Ymir’s seat. Just as the silence is about to cross from uncomfortable to unbearable, Marco slowly but deliberately reaches out, lightly covering your hand from where it rests on your knee.

You curl into his side, and he starts to sing a little louder, just enough so that you can hear.

“Welcome to my evening, the closing of the day. I could try a million times, never find a better way.”

Before the drive earlier, you’d never heard this song. Now, upwards of six repeats in, you know at least some of the words—enough to mumble along a little with him. The chorus is familiar by now, an easy refrain of la la las that everyone who’s still awake can jump into.

Even if it’s a little awkward, at least you’re all either singing or snoring.

It wasn’t long ago that Marco told you that he felt safe with you. With your head on his shoulder and your hand wrapped in his, you’re sure you feel the same about him.

Before your first alarm goes off the next morning, you wake to the hushed sounds of Historia chasing Ymir out of bed. You can’t make out any clear words, just whispering and grumbling, but after a minute or two, the bed creaks. You roll over and crack an eye open just in time to see Ymir pull on her shoes and slip out the door.

You try to snooze a few more minutes before your alarm goes off, but it’s fruitless. Everyone is starting to rustle themselves awake, so you figure you might as well just get up and shower. Quietly, you gather your things and head out.

You pass the lodge on the way to the showers, where you spot Ymir on the upper balcony, sharing a porch swing with Reiner. They rock slowly, overlooking the hill that leads down to the lake. Good. As stubborn as Ymir is, you’re almost positive she’s up there apologizing. You hope he’s not taking everything too hard. Sometimes his feelings can be too big for him.

You leave them be and take a slightly longer shower than usual, your mind drifting back to Marco and the way he held your hand. You make sure to really take your time conditioning your hair and scrubbing down with your scented body wash. It’s silly, but you feel like you’re right on the precipice of something with him, and you want to look as nice as possible for it. As if it’ll last in this humidity.

It’s a quiet morning when you return to the cabin to get dressed. Mikasa is already gone to do the wake-up calls (with Eren, because he can’t be trusted to get up on his own, let alone rouse everyone else). You expect a subdued breakfast. Maybe everyone who was at the store last night does.

Marco meets you at the front of the mess hall holding two styrofoam coffee cups. You’re getting used to the sight, but as you sit down next to him at the table, you see Jean already has his first cup. Marco hands his second cup to you.

“Oh, thank you. Does it–”

“Two sugars,” he says, and your heart squeezes. You try not to take it as a marriage proposal.

Glancing around, you don’t see the one person you were worried about. “Does anyone know where–” you’re about to ask, but you’re interrupted by a shockingly loud voice at the other end of the room.

You’re used to Erwin’s startling morning announcements. What you’re not ready for is Reiner standing at the fireplace next to him, smiling with all his teeth, shouting, “Good morning!” to the campers instead.

The campers look up, and Reiner doesn’t even have to give instructions. He simply points to the left side of the room, takes a big breath, and starts singing the first part of Down by the Bay, off-key but with heaps of enthusiasm. Erwin, pointing to his side of the room, comes in quickly with the echo, and the campers erupt. They’ve been working on the song in Nifa’s music lessons since the first week of camp, and they’re thrilled to sing it as a giant group.

You lean your chair back on two legs to ask Ymir, “What did you say to him?”

She simply shrugs over the bowl of cereal she’s already poured herself. “Don’t look at me. You know what he’s like at the asscrack of dawn. I didn’t say anything.”

“Liar,” you tease. She sticks her tongue out at you.

For all intents and purposes, Reiner does seem fine. But you saw the look on his face the night before. You can’t help but worry he’s just putting on a mask.

You could send in a professional to get all the details from Reiner. Unfortunately, Hitch is posted up next to Erwin with a thermos of coffee, so she’s not going anywhere for the foreseeable.

Instead, you scurry up to Reiner yourself after breakfast and steer him out into the parking lot. “Hey. Are you ok?”

Reiner chuckles and scratches the back of his head. “What do you mean? I’m great.”

When you give him a look, he sighs. “All right, listen. Yeah, I was kind of messed up last night. But I thought about it, and I talked to Ymir this morning. The whole thing was partially my fault anyway.”

“Huh?”

“Deep down, I always knew the two of them had something going on. I didn’t know they were actually dating, but I ignored the obvious signs on purpose. I think I was just trying to distract myself from…”

He kicks the dirt, eyes cast down. “You know what you said about those snaps Galliard was sending me?”

“I remember.” You’re careful to answer evenly, as excited as you are about where you think this is leading. You don’t want to freak him out.

“Well, I sent some back. And it turned into a whole thing. Because I think I like it.” Reiner hesitates between every sentence. “But instead of thinking about how that made me feel, I wanted to flirt with someone else. A girl. Because I don’t have to think as much about that.”

You give his shoulder a squeeze. “You didn’t do anything wrong. But you know, if you want to flirt with boys too, you can.”

Reiner clears his throat. “Is that… ok?” He asks so earnestly, it almost breaks your heart. He’s not asking if it bothers you; he’s asking for reassurance. For someone to give him permission.

“Yes. And if you need someone to talk to, you can talk to me. Or Ymir. Or Jean, or anyone. Nobody is going to be mad at you. I’m pretty sure Porco would be thrilled, actually.”

Before you can take another breath, Reiner wraps you in a bear hug. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” you wheeze. “But you’re kind of crushing me.”

Reiner lets go, laughing. You both know you need to get moving to your next activity block. Reiner skips a few paces ahead, turning backwards to face you. “Gotta go. I have a wiffle ball game to win.”

“Go get ‘em!” Yeah. He’s going to be ok.

When the late June sun sets over the hill, you meet Hange and Moblit at the back door of the lodge. After making sure all the campers have a working flashlight (thanks to Hange’s messenger bag full of spare batteries), Moblit lays out the rules, and they’re all off into the dark to chase each other around.

It’s your job to hang around the perimeter of camp and make sure none of the campers go out-of-bounds into the woods or by the lake. With your own flashlight pointed down at the ground, you walk the path just past the tree line. When you hear a rustle in the leaves, you flick your light up, ready to point some little feet back toward the lodge.

Instead, you find a certain tall, broad, and dorky counselor stumbling out of the trees, the leg of his jeans caught in a prickly bush.

“Please help,” Marco chuckles.

While he points his flashlight at his ankle, you crouch down and shake his pant leg free.

“Thank you.” You can just make out his outline in the dark, shaded by the trees, but you can hear in his voice how hard he’s smiling.

“Any time.” You realize how close you’re standing, how much electricity hangs between you as you laugh awkwardly. You’ve never felt this alone with him before. You want something. Anything.

You lean a little closer, and he lingers, not pulling away. A hot wave of breathlessness washes over you, and you rise onto your toes, one hand ghosting over the back of his neck.

“Marco,” you whisper.

His flashlight hits the ground. Both of his big hands rest on the small of your back, and he pulls you in, capturing your bottom lip with his mouth, urgent but soft. You can’t help yourself. You throw both arms over his shoulders and squeeze, pressing your body against his, so close you can feel the pounding in his chest.

He gasps before deepening the kiss, letting your tongue slip past his lips. There’s nothing to say as you hold on a little too desperately, wrapped up in each other in the dark.

When you finally break apart, Marco is trembling. “I really, really like you.”

“I really, really hoped so.” You press one more light kiss against the hint of his collarbone that peeks out over the collar of his t-shirt.

Peals of laughter and flashlight beams from a few meters away startle you, and you hop back as a few campers chase after each other on the other side of the trees.

Marco retrieves his flashlight, and you wish you could see how hard he’s blushing. Instead, you give his hand a little tug. He laces his fingers between yours and gives a reassuring squeeze. “Come on,” you tease. “We should pay attention.” You have the rest of the summer to figure this out. Right now, you have a job to do.

➷➷➷➷➷

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#marco bott x reader #marco bodt x reader #aot x reader #snk x reader #junes fics #junes secret oath #snk

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daisynik7 · 1 year ago

Text

Give You Blue

Chapter 8: How It Begins

Pairing: Eren x f!reader, Reiner x f!reader (past relationship)

cw: switching POVs (reader is 2nd person, Eren is third) angst, fluff, language

Word Count: ~3.5k

Previous Chapter | Epilogue

Give You Blue Masterlist | ao3 | Give You Blue Taglist

Summary: The conclusion of the series Give You Blue. Author’s Note: Seriously, I cannot thank you all enough for sticking with this through the end. I wanted to write a story that was realistic, relatable, and romantic, and I hope that in the end, I accomplished that. I wasn’t sure anyone would want to read a story like this, so I’m so grateful to all of you who have. I appreciate every single one of you so so much. I’ll definitely miss this series, but I’m also relieved to be give our main characters some rest LOL. Stay tuned for the Epilogue, coming out in the next week or so!

Eren fingers are entwined with yours, hands resting on the center console of his car, windows rolled down halfway to let the passing breeze sweep through his hair. Every so often, he’ll glance at you, smiling, sunglasses covering his eyes as he drives the familiar route towards the bridge between Paradis and Marley. The radio plays songs you’ve listened with him before, during all those little hangouts inside his room. Choruses and verses he’s demonstrated for you on his guitar, impressing you with his skills. He hums each tune happily, thumb tapping against your skin in tandem with the rhythm.

Nearly three months ago, you were in the passenger seat, that time in Reiner’s car, driving the same road, but in the opposite direction, observing the ocean blue with tears in your eyes and a broken heart. Wondering what would happen next after losing what seemed like everything to you. Because Reiner was everything to you. Was.

Now, you see your future in a clearer light. Instead of storms or perpetual rain, you envision sunshine and bright skies, filling you with warmth that has since slipped from you since your breakup. You’re no longer lost; rather, you’re wandering to something new, something different. Something wonderful. And you can’t help imagining Eren on the other side of that, welcoming you with open arms. Still, the journey isn’t over. In fact, it’s just beginning. And before you reach your destination, there’s obstacles you need to face to make it there in one piece.

Halfway into the drive, you realize where he’s taking you. It’s his little paradise he told you about before, the special beach he goes to for an escape. It’s my super-secret spot. You have to be really special to know about it. I’ll show you this one day. You’ll love it. Even then, several weeks ago, Eren invited you into his world, deeming you special enough to share it. He trusts you, is giving his all to you. And you wish your heart wasn’t so damaged still, so that you could give him the same. The love that he deserves.

He pulls into a spot right off the shore, letting go of your hand to put the car in park. “We’re here,” he announces, grinning. At the trunk, he pulls out two blankets, handing you one to carry. He leads you down weathered stairs towards an alcove hidden away from the main beach. The sand is soft against your feet, sinking in with each step. The distinct melody of waves crashing on the shore is soothing to your ears. It really is paradise, especially with Eren guiding the way, turning back occasionally to flash that winning smile at you. Eventually, he settles for a spot far enough from the shore to where the water doesn’t reach, laying the blanket flat. He sits cross-legged, focused on the view in front of him. He’s at ease, the tension from his shoulders relaxing, his sunglasses reflecting the glare of the golden hour. You take your place beside him, indulging in this sight. Their last moment together in the sun before you return to reality.

The scene is amazing, streaks of orange and pink mirrored in the shimmering blue sea. It’s too majestic to stare at directly, so you watch it rippling on the ocean surface. With the sun gradually sinking into the horizon, Eren scoots closer, nudging you. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

You rest your head on his shoulder, nodding. “It is. Thank you for taking me here.”

“I know it’s not exactly the runaway you wanted, but it’s the best I could give you,” he mentions, leaning into you.

“This is exactly what I want. To be here with you.”

The two of you sit in silence, admiring the sunset until it disappears, and the night sky takes over, like a curtain falling after the final act. You’re holding hands now, squeezing each other tight, desperate not to let go. Maybe he senses it too, the end of this tiny getaway together.

“Eren,” you start, voice trembling.

Before you can continue, he turns to kiss you on the forehead gently. “It’s okay. You can be honest with me. I can take it.”

Tears stream down your cheeks, his thumbs brushing them away as he cradles your face between his palms. “I’m sorry,” you sniffle. “I’m so sorry, Eren. I wish I could give you what you want, like what you’ve given to me. But I can’t. Not right now. I need time.”

“Then I’ll wait for you,” he urges, placing delicate kisses along the corners of your eyes, collecting your tears on his lips. “I’ll wait until you’re ready.”

You shake your head, refusing. “I won’t let you do that. There’s a whole world out there, people without baggage, without a broken heart. They’re so much better for you than I am. It’ll be so much easier than dealing with a mess like me.”

“I don’t want easier. I want you.”

“Why? Why me?”

He smiles softly. “Because you make me happy.”

You continue to cry, asking, “How can it be that simple? What if you get sick of me? What if I can’t make you happy anymore?” It’s what happened with Reiner. He decided one day that he was no longer in love with you, and in an instant, the life you built together disintegrated into a pile of dust. Remnants of precious memories wasted away into nothing. That’s what it felt like. What if the same happens with Eren? What if you weren’t meant to be loved at all?

He keeps holding your firmly in his grasp, a look of determination in his face. “There’s so many what if scenarios you can give me. I won’t pretend to know exactly what the future has in store for us. But all I know is that I’m the happiest when I’m with you. I’m not going to let something like this go just because I’m worried it might not work out in the end. If I’m going to take a leap of faith, it’s going to be for you.” He nuzzles his nose to yours, grinning. “And who’s to say that you won’t get sick of me?”

“I would never,” you reply, gazing at him through weepy eyes. “But I’m scared of becoming a failure again.”

“Having your past relationship end doesn’t mean you’re a failure. Love isn’t about winning or losing. It’s about learning and growing. Realizing how capable you are to love somebody and allowing them to love you. Isn’t that such a wonderful thing?”

You watch him, awed by his wisdom. As much as you wish it could, it’s still not enough to take the fear away from your fragile heart. After a moment of silence, listening to the gentle waves splash on the shore, Eren says, “Can I tell you something?” It’s dark now, the chill from the night air prickling your bare skin. He unfolds the second blanket, wrapping it around the both of you. You nod, huddling closer, relishing the warmth he always surrounds you in.

“I emailed my advisor. I have a meeting with him Monday morning. I’m officially going to change my major,” he announces proudly.

“Really?”

“Yeah. No more running away. I’m not scared anymore. That’s because of you.” He faces you, eyes shining like emeralds in the pitch black of evening. “You’ve given me the strength to do this. To take control of my life and make decisions for me, and not for anyone else. With you by my side, I can do anything.”

“Eren,” you whisper, chest heavy with adoration.

He presses his forehead to yours. “I wish I could take away the pain. Take whatever hurts you and make it disappear. You have no idea how special you are to me. So, I’ll wait for you, whenever you’re ready to share your heart with me. Until then, I’ll stay by your side, as your friend, as your RA, as a person who cares deeply about you. I’ll always be here for you, okay?”

You swallow hard, tears trickling down your cheeks as you kiss him, unable to express how much he means to you, letting your lips do the talking instead. It isn’t fair to love him with a broken heart; he deserves to be loved fully by someone who isn’t afraid of it. Someone who’s healed instead of damaged, steady without stumbling at every little crack in the pavement they come across. With time, you’re determined to become that somebody for him.

Eventually, you find the will to speak. “I won’t make you wait long. I promise.”

He laughs, snuggling closer to you under the blanket. “Pinky promise?”

“Pinky promise.” You hook your finger around his, swaying it between you.

Eren drives back to campus with your hand in his, brushing his thumb across your skin affectionately. You part ways outside his room, kissing each other once more before stepping down the hallway to your own room. You scroll through your phone to find Reiner’s contact, determined more than ever to settle this once and for all. No more running away.

Without hesitation, you type out your message.

Reiner. I’m ready to talk.

~~~

Sunday afternoon, you and Reiner agree to meet at a café on-campus, one that the two of you frequented freshman year when you were a couple. Upon your arrival, you notice that he’s already sat at a table, waiting for you, two drinks set in front of him. You sit across from him, back straight and neck tall, twiddling your thumbs at your lap where he can’t see.

“I already ordered,” he comments, pushing the coffee cup towards you, reciting the drink name and all the specifics of how you typically like it. Proving that he hasn’t forgotten.

You take it into your hand, tipping it into your mouth. “Thank you,” you say after swallowing your sip.

There are a few beats of awkward silence before he starts speaking. “I’m sorry about the other night. I shouldn’t have ambushed you like that.”

You nod in acknowledgement, fixated on the lid of your drink cup, nervous to meet his gaze.

“I meant it, though,” he adds. “I still want to get back together.”

You take a deep breath, choosing your words carefully. “Why all of a sudden?”

He shrugs, circling the rim of his cup with his finger. “I realized how much it sucks to be alone.”

“So, by default, I’m supposed to bail you out? It doesn’t work like that, Reiner. You can’t love me only when it’s convenient for you. That’s not love. That’s selfish.” This time, you do look at him, finding the confidence in your voice.

He doesn’t speak, facing the window, averting his eyes from yours. When he doesn’t respond, you continue. “It’s hard for anyone to be alone. Imagine how I felt when you broke up with me.”

Finally, he replies, “And you’re right. I was an idiot to do that. We should have never broken up. I didn’t know it was going to be so fucked up.” He trails off at his last statement, as if he’s just realizing it himself.

“You weren’t in love with me anymore. It wouldn’t have been fair for either of us to stay in a relationship like that. And you were right: we relied on each other too much. So much that it hurt the most when we couldn’t anymore.”

Suddenly, he holds your hand, grasping it firmly. “Then let’s go back. It’ll be better this time. I’ll be better.” He’s desperate now; it shows in his pleading eyes and quivering speech. The tightness in his grip as he clings to you, frantic.

You don’t pull away from him, squeezing him in return. “I don’t want to go back. I want to move forward. I can’t keep relying only on other people. I need to rely on myself, first and foremost. Stand tall and make choices because it’s what I want to do. That’s what growing up is all about, right?”

“And you’re not scared?”

“I’m terrified. But we shouldn’t let fear prevent us from moving on and being happy. I don’t know if you and I can make each other happy anymore. I was so careful with you, to a point where I was lying to myself about being fine with the decisions you made. I guess I always felt the need to protect you. It’s been that way since we were kids. As much as we don’t want to admit it, we’re different now. Everything is different. It’ll never be like it was, no matter how hard we try to recreate it.”

He revels at your words, a glimmer of defeat in his expression, understanding that there’s nothing else he can do to change your mind. After a minute of contemplation, he ponders, “You think that it could have worked out if I didn’t break up with you?”

You don’t answer right away, delicately formulating your reply. “Somehow, we stopped communicating. I went along with whatever you said, even when I didn’t agree. And you didn’t talk to me about the fears you were having before you broke up with me. I think we were so focused on protecting each other’s feelings that we stopped being honest to one another. I think eventually, we would realize that and break up anyways.” You take another sip of your drink before asking, “Do you think it would have worked out?”

He opens his mouth, then closes it. Eventually, he replies, “I guess when you put it like that, then no.”

You keep your hand in his, because this time, it’s really the last. And it doesn’t feel dirty or wrong to do it; it feels right. Like there’s finally that understanding that you’ve been racking your brain for the last three months.

“Maybe we were better off staying friends,” he muses.

“Maybe. But I don’t ever regret loving you, Reiner.” You used to think the same thing, convinced that crossing the line from friends to lovers was the vital mistake that doomed your relationship. With Eren’s words replaying in your head, you can’t say you believe that sentiment anymore. After all, Reiner has and will always be your first love. The person who taught you how to love and to receive love in the first place. Despite it not working out for the better, nothing will replace that.

He returns your smile, still holding you. “Me neither. I’m sorry. For everything.”

Silence falls between you two once again, a comfortable one this time, full of acceptance that this is truly the end for you and Reiner. Attempting to lighten the mood, you ask, “So, are you and Christa official yet?”

He looks at you confused, then realization washes over him. “Oh, Christa! Yeah, no. Turns out her and her big in Delta Delta are super close, if you know what I mean.” He smirks, relaxing in his seat. “I never stood a chance.”

You let go of him, leaning back into your chair. “Bummer. I genuinely do think she is nice.”

“Yeah. But I’d be annoyed too if my ex was pushing us to be friends.” He clears his throat, crossing his arms over his chest. “What about that Eren guy?”

You raise a brow at him. “Really? You want to talk about him?”

“Not my finest moment, I know. But I’m still curious. Is he your boyfriend now or what?”

You shake your head. “No. I told him I need time.”

Surprised, he repeats, “Time? For what?”

“To figure myself out.”

“To figure yourself out?”

“Yeah. I don’t want to give him my shattered, fucked up heart. It’s not right.”

He continues to study you, confused. “So that’s it? You’re not even going to give him a chance?”

“He said he’ll wait for me,” you respond, belly fluttering as you recall last night on the beach.

Reiner leans forward on the table, invested. “He’s totally in love with you. If he’s willing to wait for you, he’s in it for the long haul. He’s already fallen for every piece of you, I guarantee that.”

“It’s not fair to him, though.”

“It’s not fair to yourself. He’s not asking you for a healed heart. He wants you just the way you are. Why deprive yourself from someone who’s already willing to love you like this?”

“Because I don’t want to make the same mistakes again!”

He sighs, drumming his fingers on the surface impatiently. “Look, I’m not going to sit here and act like I’m completely cool with it. But for the first time in a long time, I’m trying not to be selfish again. Don’t let our past influence your future. You told me you want to rely more on yourself, right? Then start with this. Trust your heart. Don’t run away. Go for it.”

“I can’t believe my ex is actually giving me dating advice,” you chuckle, seriously contemplating his encouragement.

“Consider this my parting gift to you. As your ex and as your former best friend. I want you to be happy. And if this guy makes you happy, why wait? If it means anything to you, just know I’ll be rooting for you, whatever you decide.”

You grin. “It does mean something. Thank you, Reiner.” You no longer see him as an obstacle standing in your way. Instead, he’s on the sidelines, supporting you. Rooting for you. It took three months of suffocating to surface. And now, you’re free. “Anyways, I should go. I have a lot to think about.”

He nods, remaining seated. “Yeah.”

You’re ready to walk to the exit when he calls out to you. “Coco?”

You turn to face him, heart thumping at the familiar nickname. The youthful twinkle in his eyes returns in an instant and all your childhood memories flash before you in hyperdrive, glimpses of your past life together. Laughing so hard that you’re clutching your bellies until you’re doubled over on his bed. Hidden under homemade forts built out of pillows and cushions, shining flashlights underneath your chins, creating hand puppets with shadows on the walls. Late night drives with the windows rolled all the way down, blasting music and singing at the top of your lungs as he speeds through the highway. Splitting milkshakes at the diner, blowing out candles on birthday cakes. Endless nights spent in each other’s arms, listening to his steady heartbeat. First kisses, first times, last summer and goodbyes. Three months ago, you would have done anything to go back. Now, you’re ready to move on. The final hit of nostalgia before you go.

He smiles at you knowingly, as if he’s watching the same scenes of your lives play out in his head. “Nothing. I just wanted to say that one last time.”

~~~

Eren is in his room, sitting on the floor, strumming the strings on his guitar randomly, not playing any particular tune. He recalls the events of last night, laying it all out on the table, confessing his feelings, revealing his vulnerabilities. He won’t pressure her to rush into this, knowing she’s still processing and healing from her trauma. Her thinking about him is enough. Until the day comes when they can both love each other fully, he’ll wait patiently.

There’s a knock on his door. He isn’t suspecting company, so he assumes it’s one of his residents here to report a problem. When he opens it, he’s shocked to see her in front of him, staring at him nervously.

“I told you I wouldn’t make you wait long,” she says, stepping towards him.

His chest is heavy, fluttering incessantly, and all he can do is laugh, closing the distance between them by wrapping his arms around her. “It’s been the longest day ever, actually. You have no idea how happy I am to see you.”

She snuggles her face into his chest. “Me too. I hope you know what you’re getting yourself into, though.”

He kisses the top of her head, smiling. “Tell me.”

“I can get very insecure and very anxious, so you’ll have to deal with that.”

“Okay. I can handle that,” he answers, inhaling her scent through his nostrils, filling his lungs with as much of her essence as possible.

“I want to talk about everything with you. I want us to be completely honest with each other all the time.”

Nodding, he responds, “I want that too. I want that too, sweetie.” He hugs her tighter, never wanting to let go.

“Also, sometimes I hog the blanket. But I don’t do it on purpose, I swear. I can’t control what my body does while I sleep.” She clings to him, peering up at him with the sweetest expression.

He nuzzles her nose to hers, joking, “Ah, well, I don’t think this is going to work out then.”

She glares at him playfully, pouting her lips. “That’s your dealbreaker?”

“Well, I guess I can make an exception. For you,” he teases, kissing her.

It began with an ending, and it ends with a new beginning. One journey closes, and another begins. It may not be easy, but what wonderful, magical adventure ever is? It’s the detours and bumps along the way that make it memorable, make it worthwhile. And with her by his side, and him by hers, Eren’s confident that they’ll get through anything. Together.

@batafuraikisu @bloompompom @monirei @filunara @katestrophes @ichinosejager13 @hoperenae @zellskz @e-ayyy @liliorsstuff-blog @maliakealoha @holdmeclosebutdontloveme @chrollohearttags @sailorputa @squickkk @dnyllmh @hellomeow12 @s-cream-ing @potofstewie @conniesbbymama @erzascarlett28 @lem-hhn @roronoazorosbxtchh @ichigostrawberry15 @rhaelrence @lilshades @bigmoodyjoody @icansmellsouls @aangsupremacy @ashsauroras @bakuhoes-bxtch @si-kamo @jmtherula @imaddicted-b @monkemanjeager @neesiewrote @large-juice @chiinni @belovedackerman

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