#Zofia x reader

[itsohh]

A Strong Defence

A/N: Female reader, Zofia is a pretty intresting one cause I feel like shes a complex person when it comes to her feelings and what not so this was really intresting for me to try get into her vibe and write for her. Shes normally married but for this her husband is out of the picture. Dead, divorced, pick your poison.

Word count: 2639  

Warnings: NSFT, Smut

AO3

You were an amazing shot. One of the best really. Quick in reaction with no hesitation, guns with no recoil were your go-to. You didn't need a lot of bullets if your bullets hit true. The BOSG in your hands was a comfort you had clicked the instance you first picked up the gun. Not standard for your country it wasn't until you had trained with Chul Kyung that you were able to experience it for the first time. Adopting it into your everyday usage came with ease and was your go-to when you were in closer-range fights and not set up as a sniper.

There was, of course, a downside of your talents with the gun, your close-range combat was as Seamus had said 'fucking shite.' It was terrible. Of course, it was far better than most people and any other regular soldier but compared to the rest of Rainbow? Not great. Being in Ghosteyes, Taina had made it both her personal responsibility and pet project to improve your hand-to-hand combat. "When you're so far away, the only person you can rely on is yourself. We won't get there in time." Always the advocate for working with a team, she knew the harsh realities of your position

It was the days of the week that you both silently dreaded but looked forward to. Each time you held out just a little bit more but each day was a day of Taina flattening you against the ground. It was always scheduled for the afternoon so you would have time to lick your wounds without having other training afterwards. Today was one of those days.

At the cafeteria table, you sat, the room was rather empty, quiet. You sat with some of the SAS operatives, Mike and Mark while Timur had joined the group of you. A decent amount of operatives were still running through training simulations and would get lunch later in the day. "Honestly I had no idea he was there but just as I was about to go through the door I saw that tiny little red dot on the frame."

"Rookie mistake." Mike hummed out listening to your story.

"Low and behold, Masaru was pretty surprised when I swung the corner and got him right between the eyes." You leaned back in the chair. "So that's why Masaru was giving me the cold shoulder earlier." The group of you were interrupted when Taina approached the table, she had that determined look on her face but you could tell her focus was on something else.

"Hey Cav what's up?"

"I have stuff I need to do later in the day so Zofias is going to be taking over training you today." Zofia?  Taina must have seen the blood drain from your face at the notion as she gave you a reassuring smile.

"Don't worry, she doesn't hit quite as hard as I do." A small white lie. She pushed off the table with a grin and you silently sunk down in your chair.

"Don't get along with Zofia?" Timur asked. The answer to that question was quite the opposite. You got along with Zofia well, really well. A little too well.

"I do, Zofia is a good mentor." You looked down as you cleared your throat. Mike was the one to pick up on the obvious uncomfortableness that had settled over you and he was quick to piece it together. He had, of course, seen it many times before.

"Just keep your head in the game, kid, and you will get through it." The term used affectionately had you nod at his words before you wiped your face. You could do this, it would only be for an hour, maybe two max.

-

When you got to the training room you weren't very surprised to set it clear. Zofia is the only exception. It was hardly ever that anyone would be there for your training sessions with Taina, so late in the day many operators would be looking towards dinner or settling down for the night. When you first stepped into the room, she didn't notice you right away which allowed you to size her up. Zofia didn't wear much compared to her usual combat uniform. Her hair was done up in a bun, tight and secured to her head, not a single strand was out of place.

She wore a pair of black shorts and a slim-fit shirt. There was her bottle at the edge of the ring while she stretched. "Hey, sorry Taina dumped this on you today with little notice." You made your presence known and approached her.

"Nonsense, every fight helps us learn. This experience will help me as well as you." She had an intense look in her eyes that made you sweat just a little. "Stretch up and then I will see what I am working with." You placed your bottle on the side of the ring and as you got up she stuck her hand out. Your eyes peered up at her as you took it, pulling you up with ease. Her touch seared into your skin, firey hot contact that had you swallow your throat.

Zofia noticed this, of course, most operatives could notice the small reactions in people. Yet your secret was safe for the meantime- most people were intimidated by her and she wanted to see how it affected your fight. Not knowing how incorrect her assumption had been.

Your stretches took a little longer than usual, you dragged it out slightly longer than you normally would have, putting the situation off. There was no way you would be able to focus completely on combat, her presence was so strong, so demanding and had you feeling like a high school girl with a crush on a teacher. Which is, kinda what you had when you thought about it.

As you stood up she gave you a nod, one that you returned when you were ready. In a way, Zofia's style was somehow very similar to Taina's but rather different at the same time. Both were very aggressive, immediately on the offensive in their style of fighting. Taina seemed to be quicker on her feat in a manner that was almost dance-like whereas Zofia was harder in her punches, slower but hitting harder.

They were clean punches that had you on the defensive. Taina was quick to fight dirty- not in mat training or anything that could actually hurt you but she would speak up about how she would do it in the case of a real fight. Defence was something that you had started to excel at due to your training with Taina.

Zofia's fist came hard against you, causing you to either dodge or block with your arms. Right away you knew there would be decently sized bruised that covered your arms. A strand of her hair came loose and for a second- just a second your eyes watched it on the side of your face. A second was all Zofia needed for an opening. Her fist slammed into the side of your face. Pain immediately knocked you back into focus as you jumped back, a grunt leaving your mouth as you kept aware of your surroundings, careful not to block yourself into a corner.

She seemed to stop at that. Backing up as she rolled her shoulders. "Your defence isn't terrible but you lost focus. You need to take the offensive else your enemy will wear you down. Again."

She took stance one again. You tried to take her words to heart but it wasn't easy. Someone so aggressive in their attacks made it hard to go on the offensive yourself. Her right hook was blocked but she gave herself no opening. Yet it was now or nothing. Again her fist came flying towards you and you ducked under it. In a swift movement, you managed to catch her in the side. Finally, on the offensive, you forced her to a more defensive stand as you kicked at the back of her knee. Immediately she fell forward but she wouldn't go down without a fight. Zofia rolled with the action and quickly got back to her feet. Nothing held back, she caught you on the shoulder. Hard. It staggered you for a moment and used the opening.

Next thing you knew, pain spread across your back as you slammed against the ground. Not backing down you managed to clip her jaw as she pounced on you. Any victory was short-lived as she managed to pin you down moments later, a position that you had become rather used to.

The pair of you panted out and stared at each other. Her knee was between your legs, ankles over yours to prevent any lower body moments. Zofia's hands had a solid grip on your wrists, now pinned to the ground as she stared into your eyes. The strand of her hair had increased, now a bit messier as it hung down her face. Taina would have gotten off you by now, but she wasn't Taina.

Her lips parted as an indescribable look spread across her face. She adjusted herself just a tad but in doing so her knee pressed against you now. Unintentionally against your cunt. The sound that escaped your lips was mortifying. A small moan mixed with a gasp that had her brows raise just a tad. Your face became hot and you swallowed, embarrassment consuming you. Yet she didn't get off you. You wanted to apologise, to say something, anything. But words didn't come to you as you lay there, lips dry.

Your head spun as your thoughts raced. No way would she feel the same way you felt about her, her being your fellow operative, a mentor, a- her knee pressed a little harder against you. It was in a way that had to be intentional. Lifting it up slightly, she started to rub it against your core while she examined you, gauging your reaction. Through the thin fabric of your leggings, you could feel the strong pressure against you. Her knee slipped up a bit, slightly off the ground. "Unhh." Your eyes fluttered closed as the moan escaped your lips. At the realisation of the sound, loud and clear, echoing through the room, you knew that there was no way to hide your obvious reaction to her.

Your wrist pulled at her grip, wanting to hide, wanting to cover your mouth but her grip only seemed to tighten at your movement. The biggest thing was- that the unreadable look on her face hadn't changed at all. Completely expressionless. Was she angry? Was she treating you? You didn't know. It was impossible to know what was going through Zofia's head at that moment.

Zofia leaned in closer, her eyes still open as she neared. She took advantage of your parted lips and hers were suddenly on yours. Slow and unsure, her eyes closed while her grip loosened around your wrists. Yet when you started to kiss back, because how could you not, it tightened painfully hard. Not that you particularly cared. She seemed to gain confidence as the kiss continued, her knee pushed down on the ground again firmly against your core.

So soft were her lips, so gentle was the rest of her was so hard. Her tongue swiped against your lips causing you to grant her entry. Subconsciously you started to rock your hip, grinding yourself against her knee while your tongue danced with hers. A hum vibrated against your mouth, the first sound she had made in a while. One hand finally let go of your wrist, would it be bruised later? A piece of you hoped so, so you had some evidence of what happened. That her lips were really against yours.

Her touch snaked under your shirt, just on your ribs under your breast. The touch was firey hot and it ignited inside of you. Your fingers found the touch of her face, palm on her cheek and you swore she leaned into it. When she finally pulled back her lips were slightly swollen, a wet shine to them and you stopped your shameless grinding, well aware that your arousal had probably gone through your leggings and possibly on your knee. "Zofia…" Whispered out like a prayer she finally spoke up at the sound of her name.

"Do you want this?" A whisper, it had surprised you. Her words finally cracked and made you realise she was in the same boat as you were. She needed to make sure that you wanted it as much as you did, she wanted this, wanted you. It was obvious in her eyes, scared of rejection each movement of hers was carefully planned out. You were a risk that she so desperately wanted the reward for.

"Please. God, fuck, Zofia please." At the words that came from your mouth, she pressed her lips against yours again. Blood rushed in your ear and you could physically feel the way your heart raced at the contact.

The pin was undone, the pressure on your ankles shifted to the side and her left hand on your wrist was removed. She placed that arm against the ground, using it as support to keep her up and close to you. With your new-found freedom, you wrapped your arm around her waist a piece of you terrified that the moment would end, that she would fade away as if she had never existed.

Her knee started to purposely grind against you. Her right hand on your ribs drifted down before it found purchase on the side of your thigh. Zofia pulled it sharp against her giving her a slight angle to your clothed cunt so that it was more her thigh pressed to it. With your leg wrapped around her, all sounds you made were swallowed into her lips while your grind against her. There was something to it all, something so dirty about the situation. Grinding against the older woman in such a public area where anyone could walk in without notice and you hoped to god that the pair of you were in a blind spot of the cameras or hoped that no one could see the extent of her actions.

Excitement controlled your actions as you rubbed yourself on her thigh, friction through your leggings and on your cunt. Zofia's lips parted from yours, and she immediately started to kiss her way down to your throat. The breathy pants and moans that escaped your lips were music to her ears as you rocked against her chasing that tightness that had.  Stayed to form inside of you. The hand on her face buried itself in the back of her hair, holding onto her for dear life. "Please Zofia."

"You have me." She whispered against your skin in a vulnerability that you hadn't expected from her. A kiss against your throat, against the under of your chin, as you speed up your actions. Your grip on her tightened and her lips swallowed your moans as you came, her lips overwhelming and intoxicating as you came against her thigh. Your thoughts clenched closed against her and a shiver rippled throughout your body.

When you came done from your high she pulled back away from you, staring into your eyes that soon found hers. "This is why you lost focus. We will work on this." Her voice surprised but also slightly confused you as she got off you, tearing herself from your body. "Come to my dorm room in twenty minutes. We aren't finished here but this is not the location to continue." She stood up, leaving you on your back, blinking as you registered what just happened. Her voice commanded you as she started to leave. "Don't be late."

[gordie-kisser]

Imagine parenting the warrior candidates with Reiner, and it gets cold at night. You wake up with four little kids all snuggled into your arms and body for warmth–They're all over you. You're trapped. Gabi's got her head nuzzled into your neck, falco doing the same beside her. Udo took the time to comfortably place himself on your stomach. Zofia's right behind you, clung onto your back. Gabi's stolen everyone else's blankets, she's all cuddled into them, and the rest of the kids are freezing. Reiner chuckles at you, but the moment is something you'd cherish forever.

[zoofzoofxx]

“OH MY GOD THAT’S JOOST KLEIN!”

(Pt. 2)

Pairing - Joost Klein x fem!reader

Summary - Following an attempt to ignore Joost and act as though nothing had happened, you both meet on a rainy day while waiting for the bus. He offers you a ride but first takes you out for a dinner and shows you the beauty of Amsterdam at night.

Genre- fluff, maybe little bit of angst.

Mentions - @dozcan123 , @multifilmfan & @mrschandlerbing

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About three months back, something went down with Joost Klein. We chatted at first, but then I got busy, and Joost wouldn't quit trying to get in touch. I brushed off his messages until I finally blocked his number. After that, he stopped trying to reach out on other social platforms. I felt a bit guilty, but I figured he probably moved on. Sometimes I thought about unblocking him and telling him how I felt, but when I saw he was into Eurovision, I hesitated. 3 weeks ago, he dropped a track called Europapa, and it blew up. The song brought back memories of Joost, making me consider going to Eurovision with my sister. Lost in thought, a message from my best friend Zofia interrupted me, signaling her arrival. We decided to grab a drink and catch up, with Zofia's unexpected entrance and our trip to a nearby bar helping clear my head.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ 3 hours later ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

I checked my bus app to see when my bus will arrive. I still had 35 minutes left but the walk wasn’t short so basically I already should be on my way. I escorted my best friend to her place; she was completely wasted, and so was I. It was the usual routine - she'd get super drunk, I'd have to take her home, and then make sure I got back to my flat safely at night. I glanced at my friend before asking if she could at least get ready for bed and sleep. She agreed, closed the door, leaving me alone. I turned on maps to find the nearest bus stop direction, and just as I did, a few raindrops fell on my screen, signaling the impending rain. And sure enough, it started pouring. I began to run, and as I was about to cross the street, a car came speeding towards me, honking loudly, nearly hitting me. Shocked, I turned around, not knowing what to do. The car was already gone, so I tried to forget the scary moment and went to sit on the bench at the bus stop just a few steps away. Sitting there, rain pouring down on me as there was no roof over the bench, I stared at the ground, hoping the bus would arrive soon, even though I still had 10 more minutes to wait in the cold rain.

“Y/n?” A low male voice with a pronounced Dutch accent addressed me. I turned looked up to find a recognizable individual standing directly in front of me. I was taken aback by the sight of him drenched from head to toe, standing there as confused as I was.

"Joost?" I uttered, rising to my feet and adjusting my coat. An extended pause ensued, with neither of us certain of how to initiate this dialogue.

"It was you crossing the street? Please be more cautious next time," he began, causing my eyes to widen in surprise.

"I apologize." I glanced aside and then back at him. He appeared altered. His hair had brightened notably, nearly reaching a platinum blond tone. His demeanor was grave. It seemed like he wasn't content to see me, and frankly, I wasn't excited either.

"How are you?" Were the only words that escaped my lips.

"I'm good. Have you been drinking?" He inquired, moving a bit closer, though there was still a noticeable gap between us. I caught a whiff of his cologne once more. It was the same scent from three months back when he assisted me in zipping up my jacket.

"Tipsy, not drunk," I corrected him, settling back onto the bench, which was once again damp. I glanced down at my shoes, feeling embarrassed.

"I can catch a whiff of the alcohol from here," he remarked, and I simply pouted, unsure of how to respond. He moved closer and settled beside me. Our shoulders brushed together. In a sudden impulse, I rested my head on his shoulder, shutting my eyes and relishing the moment. It dawned on me how much I had missed Joost.

"Y/n, do you want a lift?" Joost interrupted my thoughts. I hesitated a lot, unsure if I should say yes or no.

"Sure." I say standing up. He stood up as well, and I just followed him. It was a 1-minute walk until we arrived at the car I almost got hit by. I sat in the passenger seat and inhaled the scent, Joost's specific cologne mixed with cigarettes. I yawned, leaning on the window. He started his car, and we drove through the city. There was complete silence between us until there was a loud growl. I covered my stomach with my arm and started to daydream about what I would eat when I arrived home.

“What are you doing?” I inquired as Joost made a sudden right turn.

“I’m starving, do you like McDonalds?” He asked and I furrowed my brows.

"I suppose so, but I've got some food at home, so I'll decline," I replied, earning a chuckle from the blonde guy.

"Ha, that's totally a classic mom move: 'We've got food at home,'" he mimicked, leading to a moment of silence as we both pondered our next words.

"It's on me." He stated, breaking the silence as he parked his car in the parking lot and switched it off.

"Please," he uttered, casting me those identical pleading eyes as during our initial encounter. Exhaling deeply, I release my seatbelt and unlatch the car door.

"Macdonalds around midnight just hits differently," Joost remarked as he savored his first bite of the Big Mac.

"Would you like some?" He inquired, flashing me a comforting smile.

"Thanks, but I'm good," I replied, smiling back, enjoying my chicken nuggets. I noticed Joost eyeing them, so I pushed the box towards him and nodded, signaling he could give them a try.

"May I?" He inquired, gazing at me. He looked very handsome. His beautiful blue eyes peered through his thick-framed glasses. He wore a Burberry scarf around his neck. His sharp jawline was what made him truly attractive.

"Sure," I replied, looking down, aware that I was blushing intensely.

"You know I've never tasted chicken nuggets," he remarks as he takes one, slyly snatching the sauce I was using. He sampled the nugget while I indulged in some French fries that I also relished. I glanced out the window; it was entirely dim outside. Then I shifted my gaze back to Joost.

"Why did you block my number?" He inquired out of the blue. I sat upright, unable to provide a response to his query.

"I was occupied," I replied curtly, feeling a bit anxious that this conversation might escalate. He simply nodded, unsure of what to say. After a moment of contemplation, he finally broke the silence.

"Occupied with someone?" He inquired, prompting me to tilt my head slightly. I needed a moment to ponder and craft a thoughtful response. I wasn't preoccupied with anyone. I was simply engrossed in self-care, focusing on my mental well-being, striving to improve my life even just a little. My daily routine felt monotonous - waking up, having breakfast, heading to work, eating dinner, sleeping, and repeating the cycle. I grew weary of this routine. I longed for my parents, my younger sister, and the carefree days of childhood.

“No.” I replied dryly, as I took my final sips of coke. Joost had already pushed the box back, but I nudged it back to signal that he can have the last nuggets. He accepted the food, pondering his response before blurting out something foolish.

“So you were occupied with…?” He prompted me to complete the sentence. I simply sighed in response.

"My mental health," I respond, causing his eyebrows to shoot up in surprise.

"You could have informed me that you were having a tough time. I would have been there to support you," he says, gazing at me with concern.

"I just needed some time to myself," I say, hoping to end this conversation.

"You know, I felt foolish when you blocked me. You could have simply mentioned you weren't interested in me, and I would have backed off," he says, sitting upright, with a hint of remorse in his eyes as he gazes at my hands. I was fidgeting with my sleeve.

"Feeling tense?" He asks, taking hold of my hand. I wanted to say no, but deep down, I knew I could only answer yes.

"No. Not really." I respond, attempting to avoid the eye contact he's seeking.

"Do you desire any more food?" He inquired, and I simply shook my head to decline.

"Let’s go then." He suggests, gently patting my back. We exited the building together.

"I can walk home from here," I say, glancing at him. He was tall and had a very masculine appearance.

"Can I accompany you home?" He questioned, and unsure if it was a wise choice, I sensed it might be our last meeting for a long time, or possibly never again. Nevertheless, I nodded, and he grinned. We began walking towards my house.

"I like your scarf," I mentioned, breaking the silence. He didn't say anything but gently removed it and wrapped it around my head.

"It looks much more flattering on you," he remarks with a smile, reaching out to grasp my shoulder, drawing me closer to him. Suddenly, he makes a wrong turn.

"That's not the route to my place," I mention, furrowing my brows. I was nearly sober.

"I know. There's a spot I'd like to take you to," he mentions as we reach the bridge. The wind was strong, messing up Joost's hair. He tried to fix it quickly, but it didn't really work. I couldn't help but laugh, and he rolled his eyes, clicking his tongue in response.

"Hey, what's so funny?" he says playfully, giving me a gentle push.

"Nothing," I uttered as he drew me closer once more, and I simply relished the moment. It dawned on me that I was thoroughly enjoying the time with the tall Dutch gentleman. A quiet interval ensued until we reached a bridge. It was truly a sight to behold, and I couldn't resist capturing it in a photograph. Stepping back, I ensured Joost was also in the frame. He glanced at me, posed with a smile, and shaped a heart with his fingers.

"Aww, adorable!" I say with a smile, and he approached without a word. I tucked my phone away, and Joost simply embraced me. No words. No sounds. Just two individuals embracing at the bridge. Two hearts beating in unison.

"I deeply yearned for you," is the only utterance he managed.

"I missed you as well," I reply softly, maintaining the embrace. We linger in the moment before eventually deciding to head back home as the chill of the evening sets in.

"When do you plan to depart for Sweden?" I inquire purely out of interest.

"My manager mentioned they're counting on me to be at the hotel tomorrow," I respond, nodding in understanding.

"Are you not keen on joining me?" He inquired. He had already asked me this question during our meal.

"I'd be happy to join, but I need to find a way to make some money," I respond, to which he pouts in disappointment.

"I comprehend. Please inform me if your decision changes," he states, and I offer a smile. Upon reaching my residence, we bid our final farewells. He mentioned I could keep the scarf but requested something in return. As I lacked valuable items, he noticed my bag and a small keychain, a fluffy pink heart. He inquired about exchanging it, to which I happily agreed, asking if he desired anything else, but he declined. We shared a parting hug, and he mentioned he would text me. After he left, I unblocked his number but never received a message from him again.

A/n - guys I’m so sorry this is so shitty 😭 I feel like I made so much grammar mistakes. English isn’t my native language so if you see any mistakes please contact me 😘 BY THE WAY I DONT KNOW IF YALL NOTICED BUT Y/N’S BEST FRIEND IS ACTUALLY ME 😍😍😍😍😍THANK YOU SO MICH FOR 60 FOLLOWERS ILY! leave a comment behind please it gives me a lot of motivation ✌🏻 I’m actually thinking if I should make a part 3 but idk lmk 😊 PEACE OUT 😇✌🏻LUV U GUYS 🥰❗️💋💋💋💋💋

[theragethatisdesire]

much ado about nothing chapter 3 - plug!eren x reader - 18+!!!

DISCLAIMER: this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. minors and ageless blogs, please do not read below the cut.

finally!!!!!!!!!! finally all the tension has led to something.....well, some of the tension, anyway. you and eren are both idiots in denial, but you're horny idiots in denial, which makes all the difference. hope y'all have your a/c on, bc it's about to get hot in here.

corny jokes aside, pls enjoy chapter 3 of plug!eren and get ready to get steamy (finally!!!! sorry for holding out on you<3333)

miss the first couple chapters? find the series masterlist HERE

specific cws: smut, nasty nasty smut. mentions of drugs/alcohol. use of pet names, squirting, oral (fem!receiving), eren being a cute little shit

-

“That’s a fair thought to lie between maids’ legs.” - Hamlet by William Shakespeare (Act III, Scene 2)

You make your way through your weekly routine, but Eren follows you everywhere you go. You see him in the dark-haired man two rows over in the library, the smell of weed walking down fraternity row, in the kissing couple sitting on the campus’ main water fountain. It doesn’t help that Historia won’t shut up about him, scolding you day and night for not bringing him to your bed that night.

Part of you agrees with her, but another, more sinister part of you relishes in the denial of it all, the hot anticipation that courses through you each time he sends you a cheeky text about nothing. You promised yourself one fuck, one good, long fuck, and you were leaving him in the dust, and you weren’t going to rush to get it out of your way.

You’re busy anyway, heading over to The 104th Bean, the campus coffee spot, on quick feet to make it in time to the study group you were hosting for a few of your students. You didn’t think the sonnets you’d assigned for this week were too complex, but a good chunk of them were struggling with the meter of the lines. It was the least you could do to offer them an opportunity for one-on-one help, and in lieu of an office, 104 was the best spot to get it done.

“Hi guys,” you breeze in, breathless and slamming a stack of papers down on the table your students have gathered at, “sorry I’m a little late.”

“We just got here,” Falco, a precious, blonde wisp of a kid smiles brightly up at you, “and we went ahead and got you a coffee. It’s still hot.”

“Aw, thank you guys,” you gratefully accept the paper cup he offers you. It’s your favorite brew, and you raise your eyebrows in surprise. “Which one of you figured out my coffee order?”

“All of us,” Gabi shrugs, “you bring the same thing to class literally every day.”

“We have a whole thing about it in the group text,” Zofia wiggles her phone at you.

“I might need to offer some extra credit.” You take a sip, closing your eyes at the blissful feeling of caffeine rushing into your half-conscious brain. You jump straight into the material, deciding to tackle the sonnets one by one, line by line until they’ve all made perfect sense to your little group of college kids. They’re all smart, evidenced by the way they question their way to the answer before you can give it, and in their defense, some of the sonnets you pulled have been from your graduate classes. You spend the next hour working through everything with them, a welcome reprieve from sitting alone in front of your laptop, tugging at your hair.

“I…um, need to go to the restroom,” Gabi checks her phone and stands suddenly, looking frantic. You frown, but wave her off in the direction of the bathroom, making a mental note to send Zofia after her if she didn’t return soon.

After a few minutes have passed, Gabi sits back at the table, looking much calmer than when she’d left. You don’t make any note of it, until a tall figure catches your attention out of the corner of your eye. You’re positive that it’s your mind playing tricks on you like it has been all week, until you hear a familiar timbre calling your name.

Eren’s sullen mouth widens into that heartstopping, crooked grin as he walks over to wrap his arms around you in a hug that makes your knees weak. “What are you doing here?”

“Study group,” you gesture at your students, noticing that Gabi’s blushing heavily and pointedly avoiding eye contact with both of you. Ah. “Working?”

Eren glances at Gabi and looks at his shoes. “Nah, just needed a coffee.”

“Uh-huh,” you roll your eyes. He’s not even holding a cup, and you’re not buying his story for a second. As her professor, you should scold Gabi for buying drugs which are definitely banned on campus, but considering that you’re plotting to get into her dealer’s pants, you figure that might be a tad hypocritical.

“You didn’t text me back last night,” Eren pokes a finger into your ribs playfully. You’re well-aware of your students’ eyes boring into your back, watching intently as their professor’s personal life spills into their study session. Great material for the group text.

“I knocked out! You know I’m busy.”

“Too busy to reply to my memes about Jujutsu Kaisen?” Eren cocks an eyebrow.

“Apparently so. I woke up with my phone still unlocked and stuck to my face.” That draws a laugh out of him.

“Okay fine,” Eren concedes, “but if you’re not going to pay attention to my very funny memes over text, then you’ll have to check them out in person.”

“Eren,” you hiss, flicking your head in the direction of your suspiciously-silent students, “Would it kill you to behave?” Eren scoffs.

“They’re not listening. What about tonight? We can watch a movie or something.”

Watch a movie. You want to inform him that each one of those students is very much listening to him shamelessly flirt with you, students that absolutely know what “watch a movie” is code for. Especially Gabi, who knows exactly what Eren’s occupation is from experience and will likely be all too thrilled to inform her classmates that you’re banging her hot drug dealer. Simply getting Eren to leave is probably your best bet at retaining any shred of respect your students hold for you.

You can’t resist teasing him a little first. “Is that what an old man does on a Friday night? Watch movies?”

“Mikasa’s covering some clients for me,” Eren admits, “if you come over, that is.”

“I think I’m free tonight,” you scan through your lengthy list of obligations in your head, trying to ignore the way your heart flutters as you realize he’s already gone out of his way to cover work and give you both your alone time, “as long as you don’t mind if I bring some quizzes over with me. I still have my 9:00 am’s to grade.”

“Can I help?” Eren’s eyes light up, childlike and excited.

“You don’t even know the answers.”

“Straight As for everyone,” Eren smiles, changing his tune when you shoot him a look, “straight Fs, then?”

“It won’t take me long, twenty minutes tops, and then you can pester me with all the memes you want. Deal?”

“You got it, teach.” Eren’s tone is suggestive enough to make your face warm, and you shoo him away from the table of young adults that you literally must remain respectable in the eyes of. Eren bids you goodbye with a wink that goes straight to the warmth pooling between your legs. You allow yourself one deep breath to regain your composure, turning back to your students with a wide, nervous smile.

“Sorry about that, guys.”

“Is that your boyfriend?” Zofia flinches when Gabi kicks her under the table with a loud bang.

You hesitate. No, just the hot guy I have no business getting wrapped up with that I’m going to let fuck me stupid later. “Just a friend.”

“He seemed pretty into you to be just a friend,” Falco teases.

“Do you want to fail your next three tests?” You raise an eyebrow at him, and he balks, turning back to his notebook with a mumbled apology. You don’t miss the way Gabi’s looking at you, something between embarrassment and curiosity on her face. You can’t blame her; you’re not far enough in age from your students to be completely out of touch, and if you found out one of your professors had been sleeping with someone as deliciously dangerous as Eren, you would have been all over spreading that rumor.

Friends with someone like Eren, you correct yourself in your mind, remembering that you haven’t slept together, not quite yet. Tonight’s apparently the night, though, and your chest is tight with anticipation. It’s all you can do to pull yourself together and make it through the day, breaking out in a cold sweat when Eren shoots you a reminder text to head to his place around 7:00.

“Oh you’re getting laid. You’re so getting laid!” Historia squeals excitedly through your phone speaker. “I never thought this day would come!”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” you say, letting the sarcasm drip freely from your voice. Your nervous hands had started shaking in your pockets as you rode down the elevator shaft to embark on the twelve-minute walk to Eren’s, so you had Facetimed Historia for a distraction. All you had gotten in return so far, however, was a whole bunch of shrieking.

“You just second guess yourself too much,” Historia says, shaking the camera, “let loose, live a little like we used to.”

“Living like we used to is what had me crying in the shower over a frat boy every two weeks, remember?”

“Eren’s not like that,” Historia dismisses you, “and honestly, he seems into you.”

“He invited me over to come fuck in broad daylight, so yeah, Stor, I’d say he’s fairly into me.”

“Not like that, like actually into you. I’ve never seen him get all touchy with anyone like he did the other night. Plus, he drove you home, which was super sweet.”

Oh, calling Historia was a mistake. Big mistake. That’s the last thought you need in your mind on your way to your one-and-done, already being a repeat offender for catching feelings from basically nothing. Eren’s too volatile to play with, too charming, and if you’re not careful, you’ll fall right into a trap he probably doesn’t even know he’s setting for you.

“I don’t know,” Ymir chimes in from somewhere off-camera, “guys will do a whole bunch of shit to get laid. Probably doesn't mean anything.”

“You’re literally a lesbian, Ymir, shut up,” Historia snips. You raise an eyebrow.

“Do the words ‘pot’ and ‘kettle’ have any meaning to you?”

Historia rolls her eyes. “Ymir’s like, allergic to penises, don’t listen to her. I, on the other hand, have a million guy friends and, with no emotional or sexual interference in my male-female relationships, I have learned to read them like books. Deny it all you want, but he’s totally got a little crush on you.”

“This is the last thing I need to hear,” you groan, “he’s too pretty for me to think he has a crush on me. We’re fucking just this one time, and then I’m done with him.”

“Sure,” Historia smirks knowingly, “I’m sure Sasha’s roommate said that too.”

“And they never dated either, so that’s on her for breaking her own rule.” You’re pushing back a little too hard to be described as anything but defensive, you know it, but a small, wavering flicker of hope in your chest wants Historia to keep going, wants her to be right. Because Eren’s dreamy, makes you want to kick your feet and twirl your hair like a schoolgirl, and if anything actually came of this, you wouldn’t be the one to say no.

However, you’re heading over for a meaningless, one-time fuck, so feelings need to be pushed to the back of your mind.

“You’re never any fun,” Historia pouts.

“Two days ago I drank an entire bottle of wine with you for zero reason other than the fact that you wanted to get drunk and cry to Taylor Swift. That’s plenty of fun.”

“She does that to you, too?” Ymir commiserates, still off-camera.

“Okay, it’s Eren-talk time, not shit-on-Historia time,” Historia huffs, blowing a strand of blonde out of her eyes. A notification pops up on your phone: destination in 200ft.

“Oh my god, I’m almost there,” you practically moan, covering your face with your hand, “what if he does have a massive dick and it like, impales my uterus or something?”

“No dick talk!” Ymir snaps. Historia shushes her.

“Relax, for every rumor about a guy’s dick, you have to knock, like, two inches off what you hear. Trust me.”

“What if I choke on it and throw up on him?”

“I’ve seen you deepthroat an entire banana without batting an eye,” Historia pulls a knowing face.

“What if this whole thing is a prank and Ashton Kutcher pops out and they’ve somehow started up a Punk’d remake that I don’t know about–”

“Then you get a selfie with Ashton Kutcher and call it a day,” Historia laughs, “you’re working yourself up way too much. Remember when you used to be a slut and do this, like, five times a week?”

“Jesus,” you hear Ymir mutter.

“Thanks, Stor. Thanks so much.”

“No, but seriously. Eren might be hot and funny or whatever else you like about him, but he’s just a guy. You are also hot and funny and totally a catch, you’ve got the upper hand here!”

“Ugh,” you stop a few feet from Eren’s drive, knowing you would fully die if he overheard you gossiping about him on the phone. “I’m here. Let me just get this over with, and I’ll see you at home later.”

“Yeah, when Eren answers the door, try to sound a little more excited that you’re going to get laid and less like you’re going to your execution,” Historia traces a smile onto her cheeks with a pink fingernail, “good luck!”

“Use a condom!” Ymir pipes up just as the call ends.

You look over at Eren’s house, cute and squat with its little red door, and trudge up the sidewalk before you can lose your nerve. You wince at the tremors shaking your fist as you knock, wanting to run away or throw up or disappear–

“Hey,” Eren answers the door with a broad grin. You eye his gray sweatpants, essentially straight woman kryptonite, and gulp. He knows too much.

“Hey,” you force a smile, letting him beckon you inside. It smells…very nice. Not as boyish as it should. You take note of the candle burning on the coffee table with a little smile.

“Want anything to snack on? I have popcorn, stuff for quesadillas, cosmic brownies…” Eren’s eyes twinkle at the last suggestion. You’re not surprised; he seems like the type to have an insatiable sweet tooth.

“I ate before I came over, but thanks anyway,” you say, fiddling with the zipper on your jacket. Eren takes note of your twitchy hands, raises an eyebrow at you.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” you say automatically, embarrassed that he’s caught you flustered. He’s just a guy. “It’s…okay, it’s honestly just been awhile.”

You expect him to laugh or tease you, but Eren just smiles that stupid fucking canine-heavy, disarming smile. “We’re just chilling, okay? No sweat.”

“No sweat,” you repeat, admittedly feeling a little better now that you’ve gotten it out. Eren’s new to you, still unfamiliar and full of surprises, but for some odd reason, you trust him. There’s something comfortable and steady in his casual confidence that eases your nerves and ignites a pounding in your heart all at once.

“So, I was thinking Texas Chainsaw,” Eren goes on like you hadn’t just shared a little moment in the hallway, flopping onto the couch, “but if you’re not into horror, I’d be down for Pineapple Express.”

The irony’s so blatant it’s almost not funny.

“So, the drug dealer wants to watch Pineapple Express?” You plop down beside him, relieved that he’s drawn you to the living room as opposed to his bedroom. Sure, you feel better, but you know one look at Eren’s bed would ignite a fresh wave of nerves. Eren rolls his eyes as you poke fun at him.

“It’s a classic!”

“For seventeen-year-old stoners, definitely. What about Grease? That’s a classic.”

Eren lolls his head on your shoulder, pretending to snore. You smack his face lightly, still giggling under your breath, and he fakes jumping awake, shaking his head. “Sorry, I dozed off. Boring.”

“Okay, fine, let’s just do your horror movie,” you sigh, knowing that if everything goes according to plan, you won’t be stuck watching the movie for long. “I’ve never seen that one, and isn’t it sort of a pillar of the scary movie realm?”

Eren pauses his thumb on the remote to gape at you. “You’ve never seen Chainsaw Massacre? Like, ever?”

“Nope.”

“Holy shit. Prepare yourself to be educated,” Eren mumbles disbelievingly under his breath, finding the movie quickly and standing to turn the lamps in the room off, leaving nothing but the cozy glow of string lights and the TV. “Ready?”

You snuggle into his side, letting him pull you close enough to feel his chest rise and fall under your face. “Ready.”

The movie doesn’t hold your attention, too caught up in Eren’s embrace to pay much attention to the plot. He’s got one arm around your shoulders, hand dangling down far enough that you can reach your hand up to play with his large fingers. It’s comfortable, probably a little too comfortable for a quick fuck, but you’re content, trying your best to focus on the film until he makes his move.

“M’bored,” Eren says abruptly, after not even thirty minutes.

“You picked this movie,” you argue, peering up to look at him. He’s feigning a pout, but there’s something mischievous glittering in his eyes.

“Yeah because I thought you’d scream,” he says, shrugging, “but for someone who didn’t want to watch a scary movie, you don’t seem very scared.”

“I’m not screaming because it’s predictable.”

“You’ve never even seen it, you should be screaming.”

“You need a horror movie to make me scream?” You’re tired of the games, confidence restored as you remember just how badly you want what you came here for. Historia was right, he’s just a guy, and you’re ready to get laid. Eren blinks for a brief second, caught off guard, but a slow, wolfish grin slowly begins to spread over his face.

“Is that what we’re doing now? Talking shit?”

You’ve dug your grave now, blood running hot with anticipation. Might as well get comfortable. “Maybe.”

Eren shifts, pulls you into his lap to straddle him chest to chest. Through your leggings, you can feel the outline of him, intimidating and hard, rubbing against your core. It draws a little gasp from you; no running from him now. “Yeah? Where’d that mean mouth go?”

You lean in, already eager to feel his lips on yours, but Eren reclines further, making you chase him.

“Cat got your tongue?” Eren chides, tongue darting out to wet his lips. “Thought you wanted to be mean to me.”

“That’s not what I want.” Your voice already sounds gone, breathy and heavy in your mouth.

“What do you want then?”

“Wanna kiss you,” you admit, hating how strung out you already are, hot between your thighs and shaky in the hands. Eren smiles at you, so sweet and easy on the surface, but you can see the danger lurking behind it. He’s going to eat you alive.

Eren leans forward, leaving a chaste peck on your lips. You make a discontented sound as he pulls away. “What’s that for? Gave you what you wanted.”

“Not like that,” you play with the strings of his hoodie, not even able to look him in the eye, lest he see the unadulterated want pulsing through you, “like…”

“The other night?” Eren finishes for you, a shit-eating grin plastered on his face. “Been thinking about it?”

“Mhm.” He puts his hands on your hips, and you hum at the heat of his hands through your clothes. Unexpectedly, Eren pushes you down, grinds you against the erection growing in those damned sweatpants, ripping a humiliating, choked sound out of your throat. You aren’t sure what you’d expected of him, but you definitely hadn’t anticipated this level of boldness.

“Been touching yourself? Thinking about me?” Eren asks, low and expectant. You nod, hating yourself for admitting to your late night transgressions, giving into him so easily. “Good. ‘ve been doing the same thing.”

Eren swallows the little moan that spills out of your mouth, crashing into you, all teeth and tongue. He’s sloppy, far more demanding than he had been the first time around, licking into your mouth and fisting a hand into your hair. His other hand’s still hard at work, moving your hips against him, letting out little grunts when you grind down particularly hard.

“Not here, need to,” Eren pants into your mouth, trying to speak around your tongue slipping between his lips, “need to take you to my room. Is that okay? Need you to tell me now if it’s not.”

Your heart melts; you want to kick yourself for ever calling him ‘scummy’. Even in the midst of your heated moment, Eren’s eyes are blown wide, scanning over your face for any sign of hesitation.

“Please,” you purr against him, peppering his jawline with kisses and rubbing yourself on him wantonly. Eren groans deep in his chest, a sound that makes your cunt throb between your legs. That convinces him; he scoops you up, legs around his waist like you weigh nothing– god, it always strikes you just how strong he is– stumbling through the house and letting you plant sloppy, open-mouthed kisses down his throat.

You bounce on his bed when he tosses you, not even taking your eyes off of him for a moment to do a quick inventory of the room. You decide you’ll take the time to investigate afterwards, greedy for any details that might unravel the mechanisms behind the man in front of you. Eren’s practically ripping his hoodie off where he towers over you, revealing an expanse of hard muscle nestled under olive skin, random little tattoos etched into his physique here and there. You want to trace those tattoos with your tongue, feel how the skin gives under your teeth. Your jaw drops an inch or two; you reach a hand up to ghost your fingertips under the ripples of his ridiculous six-pack.

“You’re a drug dealer. What do you even need muscles like that for?”

Eren snickers, letting you have your fun for only a moment before he’s reaching down to tug your top over your head.

“I have a lot of down time, I guess. You’re one to talk anyway,” he sucks in a breath, crawling over you and forcing you back on your elbows, “I mean, just look at you.”

You bring your hands up to your face to hide where your cheeks are growing warm under his lecherous gaze, but Eren’s having none of it, pulling them above your head and securing them by the wrists.

“Ah ah ah,” he tuts, mouthing his way down your neck, “why so shy all of the sudden? Don’t hide from me now.”

“S-sorry,” you stutter, back unwittingly arching, shoving your chest closer to his eager mouth. Eren releases you to unclip your bra, slide it over your shoulders. His eyes darken even further, bright green deepening into the shade of a dark, forest floor.

“So fuckin’ pretty,” Eren mumbles, leaning down to drag his tongue over the tops of your breasts. It’s lewd, sloppy, the way he licks at you like you’re something sweet, something to be eaten, but you like it, fisting your hands in his dark hair and clutching him to your chest. Eren’s large hands palm at your tits; he takes one nipple in his mouth and you sigh contentedly as he sucks, nips at you in all the right places. “You've got the most beautiful body, baby. Feel good?”

“Yeah, feels good,” you whisper, cradling him so close you might be suffocating him, but you don’t care. There’s something akin to a Greek god licking at your tits, looking up at you like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, can you really help yourself?

Eren kisses down your stomach, tugging your leggings and panties down easily, propping your legs open for him. You frown, popping up on your elbows, more than ready to just get him inside of you as fast as you can at this point. What stops you is the extremely sexy noise he lets out at the sight of you, bordering on a growl.

“Such a pretty pussy,” he absentmindedly circles your clit with his thumb, dips it into your hole a few times, testing the waters.

“Eren, no– want you in me,” you pull at his shoulder pointedly, but Eren just chuckles, breath fanning over your sensitive cunt, making you jolt.

“Gotta get you ready for me, yeah?” Eren tilts his head innocently, rubbing a little faster against your clit. Your words die in your throat, nothing but a broken whimper slipping out in place of your protests. “See? Just want to taste you, know you’ll be so sweet.”

“Fine, knock yourself out,” you say, trying to appear at least slightly less wrecked than you are. Eren looks up at you, amused.

“Gonna fuck that attitude right out of you if you’re not careful.” Jesus, the mouth on him. You bite your lip, too afraid of what might come out if you dare to respond. You believe him.

Eren’s leaning in, licking through your folds lazily, no clear plan in mind, just getting a taste for you like he said he would. Somehow, even with his warning, it still catches you off guard, the hot lathing of his tongue into your center.

“Shit,” Eren groans into you, “you taste so fucking good.”

His words go straight to your pussy, and you twist your fingers in his hair shamelessly, pulling insistently. You need far more than what he’s giving. You need what you know he’s capable of.

“Where’s all that shit talking now?” Eren chuckles under his breath, the vibrations sending a fresh wave of heat through your body.

“C’mon Eren, quit fucking with me,” you pant, making the mistake of looking down. Whatever you were about to say gets lodged in your chest; Eren’s looking right back up at you, bottom half of his face tucked into your cunt and one eyebrow cocked smugly.

“Need something?”

“Your mouth, your f-fingers, please–” you’re off the deep end, feeling yourself spiral further down into Eren’s little world of hot hands and devilish lips, bottomless need threatening to swallow you whole. You’re not the begging type, but for him? You’re as good as on your knees.

“There you go,” Eren coos, sinking a long finger into your heat, crooking it just right to punch a groan from you, “can have whatever you want, baby, just gotta ask.”

His mouth closes around your clit, sucks hard just as his finger nudges into the perfect spot in your walls, that spot that makes your head spin. You’re crooning above him, muttering something about how good it feels, how you need more, putty in his experienced hands. When he slips another finger into you, picking up his rhythm, you nearly cry, tears welling in your eyes as he works you open.

“That’s– fuck, that’s so good,” you whine, fisting the sheets, his hair, your own chest, anything you can sink your claws into to keep you grounded in the moment, keep you from floating away like you feel like you’re going to. Your hips are canting up into Eren’s mouth of their own accord; you buck so violently that Eren has to throw his free arm over your stomach, locking you in place so that you have no choice but to stay and take what he’s giving you. “Eren, I–”

“Hm?” He hums against your swollen clit; you can even feel his lips stretch into a grin against you.

“Don’t stop, I’m gonna– gonna cum,”  you manage, legs already beginning to shake. Every part of you feels like it’s on fire; when Eren presses his arm down a little harder on your lower abdomen, a strange, sticky heat starts building in your stomach. “Eren–”

“Come on, baby,” Eren huffs, sinking a third finger into you, stretching you impossibly wider. You’re wet enough that it doesn’t hurt, but the shock of it is enough to make you cry out. “Don’t fight it, want it so fucking bad. Let go for me.”

That’s enough to hurl you over the edge, obscene sounds spilling from you as you jerk in his hold. You’re vaguely aware of the squirt dribbling out of you, soaking the sheets, but you’re preoccupied with the earth-shattering orgasm rocking through your body, the lewd slurping sounds Eren’s making between your legs, groaning into you as you cum violently on his face. You finally begin to settle, shoving at Eren’s head and whimpering from the overstimulation.

He presses his lips to your hip bone before he comes back to you, pulling you into a filthy kiss, both of your faces drenched in your cum and sticking together. When he pulls back, you nearly cum again at the sight of your slick literally dripping from his chin.

“How was that?”

“Fine,” you pant, “just fine.”

Eren laughs, a real laugh that pulls a giggle out of you too, makes everything just a little less intense. “So you’re good?”

“I’m very good,” you grin up at him, bleary-eyed and blissed out. Eren falls back against the headboard, sitting himself up. You notice two things right off the bat: 1. that his gray sweatpants are gone and 2. that the rumor mill wasn’t lying.

His dick is massive, wide enough that your fingers wouldn’t touch if you wrapped them around it and long enough that you’re pretty sure it would slap against your belly button if you laid it just right. It’s pretty, too; flushed red tip leaking precum down his shaft in a way that makes your mouth water. Your eyes widen, apparently enough for Eren to notice.

“Quit drooling and get over here,” he chuckles, grabbing you under your arms and pulling you to his chest, forcing your legs to spread over his thighs, “wanna see you ride me first.”

“I’m not drooling,” you scowl defensively, trying to regain some of your composure after whimpering and crying for him only a minute ago. He’s just a guy, Historia’s words echo in your mind.

“Go for it, then,” Eren smirks, landing a light smack on your ass that makes you jolt. You steel your gaze against his, determined not to give him the upper hand.

You take him in your hand, slide the head through your wet folds, earn yourself a hiss from him. Shit, even the tip catching on your eager hole has an intimidating stretch to it. He wants you to sit on this thing?

Either Eren’s a mind reader, or your hesitation is written all over your face because he cups your chin, pulling you down to him for a troublingly tender kiss.

“Just a little at a time, okay?”

You’re humiliated by his encouragement, but you tuck your lip between your teeth and nod, pressing just the head into you, pride forgotten on account of the slight burn between your legs as you sink down on him.

“Oh,” you sigh, long and languid, head rolling back off of your shoulders at the stretch. Eren’s grin has fizzled out into a look of fascination, his eyes glued to where he’s splitting you open. You inch down a little further, wincing at the ache in your thighs and in your walls; he feels even bigger than he looks. Eren notices, wipes a thumb under your eye at a stray tear.

“You good?”

“Yeah,” you hiss out through your clenched jaw, “s’just…so much.”

“Doing so good for me,” Eren’s thumb returns to your clit, swiping across it softly, “does this help?”

Your answer is nothing but a heady whine as you drop down another inch or so, cunt pulsing around the welcome intrusion. Eren’s trying to comfort you, holding you tight to his chest now and murmuring little encouragements into your ear, but his voice is strained and you can feel his hips twitching, begging to buck up into you, just as unraveled as you are at this point. After what seems like eternity, you’re almost there, feeling him deep in you, nudging against your cervix, but there’s still a small space between you, one you can’t manage to close.

“I can’t, Eren,” you whimper, fucking yourself up and down on him in an effort to get that last little bit in, “won’t fit.”

“Yeah it will,” Eren simpers, taking you by the waist, “lemme help.”

Eren adjusts the way you’re sitting, leans you back just a little, and he’s right. The small space between you disappears, both of you groaning when your clit meets his stomach.

“Oh, f-fuck,” you stammer, rolling your hips against him experimentally.

“So goddamned tight,” Eren huffs, voice gruff with the strain of keeping himself under control, “so fucking perfect for me.”

You move, rocking this way and that, marveling at the way each new angle feels. Eren’s digging his teeth into his bottom lips, squeezing your hips hard enough to bruise, but he holds himself back, letting you work yourself open and get a feel for him. When you lean forward, brace your hands on his shoulders and grind your hips back, his cock nudges a spot in you that makes you see stars. You collapse onto Eren’s chest, rutting your hips into him desperately, panting.

“Right there?” Eren’s hands finally move, pulling and pushing your hips back and forth against the spot that has you mewling into his chest.

“Right there,” you gasp, feeling your orgasm building upon itself embarrassingly fast, still raw from his fingers.

“That’s right,” he grunts, moving your body against him faster, “not so mean with my dick up in you, are you?”

You mumble something unintelligible in response that would have been muffled by Eren’s shoulder between your teeth even if it had been a coherent sentence. Your eyes roll back in your head as the pressure builds, and Eren releases his grip from one of your hips to rub hard, fast circles against your clit.

“Come on,” Eren licks up your neck, “give me one more. You can do it, baby, just one more.”

And just like that, you’re cumming again, wailing into his sweaty skin as tears fill your eyes. Eren guides you through it, working your hips into a slow grind, groaning deeply in your ear as you ride it out, moving your hips along with the rhythm he’s set. He rubs circles into your back as you come down, leaving a litter of kisses along your shoulders while you tremble on top of him, nails dug into his biceps.

“That was a big one,” Eren grins at you, all cocky and stupid, when you pull back to look at him. You’re too exhausted to berate his smugness, laughing breathlessly.

“It was good,” you agree, whimpering when Eren lifts you off of him. He tosses you to the side, propping you up on your hands and knees.

“Gonna let me have my fun, now?” Eren asks from behind you, landing a few light spanks to your ass.

“That wasn’t fun?”

“Oh, it was very fun,” Eren slides back into you, all the way to the hilt, punching a groan from your throat, “but doesn’t this feel so much better?”

Before you can respond, Eren’s got his hand around your throat, pulling you up onto your knees until your back is flush with his chest. His fingers sneak up, grab your chin, force you to look down.

“See? Like this, you can even see where I’m fucking all the way up into your little tummy.” His free hand rubs lovingly over the little bulge in the bottom of your stomach pulsing in and out in accordance with his slow thrusts. At this angle, Eren’s hitting that gummy spot in your walls dead-on with each snap of his hips; all you can do is cry and whimper pitifully as he picks up his pace, skin on skin echoing throughout the room. 

“E-Eren— fuck,” you can barely form words, overcome by the way he’s just using you, manhandling you and bullying you into the shape of him. Your fucked out mind struggles to grasp onto Historia’s reminder; Eren’s not just a guy, he's ruining you for any man to come after him.

“Feel good, baby?” Eren releases you, placing a hand between your shoulder blades, shoving your face into the mattress creaking underneath you and shoving himself that much deeper, fucking up against your cervix. “You feel so good for me. Best pussy I’ve ever had baby, s’like magic.”

You notice the slur in his words, like he’s drunk on you, getting lost in you as much as you’re drowning in him. You shove your hips back towards him, trying to line up in rhythm with his thrusts, make this good for him too instead of being a complete pillow princess. Eren slaps his hands onto your hips and grabs hard, hard enough to leave little fingerprint bruises and move your hips for you.

“Look at you, pretty little thing all slutted out just for me,” he sounds strung out, like his inner monologue is just spilling from his lips, “lemme take care of you, bet I can-“

A hand wraps around your body, thrumming insistently against your puffy, sore clit. You’d like to think the sound that erupts from you is more akin to a moan than a scream, but you’d be lying to yourself. You claw at the bedsheets, desperately trying to run away from the overstimulation- it’s so much, he’s so much-

“Don’t run from me,” Eren slaps your clit sharply, “you can cum again for me, can’t you? After all that fucking talk earlier, I know you can.”

“I can’t, I can-“

“Yes you can,” Eren’s whispering all sweet in your ear like he’s not fucking the life out of you, “just one more, baby, then I’ll give you mine. Promise you can do it.”

Your abused cunt tightens around Eren so viciously you nearly push him out, sobbing into the bed sheets as Eren shoves you over the edge for the third time that night. Eren’s murmuring in your ear how good you are for him, how good you feel, how pretty you look crying for him, only making it all that much sweeter. His hips begin to stutter behind you, and he cums deep in you with a loud groan and a generous amount of swearing.

You collapse in a sweaty heap, Eren pulling you to his chest and affectionately rubbing circles into your back, whispering sweet nothings as you sniffle into your chest. When you start to come back to yourself, giving Eren a meek smile, he runs off to the bathroom for a washcloth to handle the wreck between your legs. That gives you the opportunity to sit up, clutching the sheets to your chest to protect any sense of modesty you might have after that, and take a look around his room.

There are some anime posters on the walls, Jujutsu Kaisen (naturally), Death Note, Bleach, and a framed picture of Eren, Armin, and Mikasa as children. You notice there’s nothing resembling a family photo, and your heart thuds sadly. There’s a desk in the corner scattered with papers, and your curiosity wins out over the trembling in your legs. You toddle over on weak knees, sheets wrapped tightly around yourself, wincing at the feeling of Eren’s cum dripping between your thighs.

To your surprise, most of the papers littering the little desk are sketches of buildings, measurements and keys to each drawing detailed on the side in neat handwriting. They almost look like blueprints, professional and meticulous. You pick one up and study it, missing the creak of the bedroom door.

“What are you doing?” Eren’s got a suspicious look on his face, holding a little cloth and a cup of water in his hands.

“Sorry,” you’re flustered, dropping the paper onto the desk, “I was just–”

“Snooping?” He cocks a knowing eyebrow, walking over to you. Your cheeks warm.

“A little. What are these?”

Eren joins you by the desk, spreading a large hand over the collection of drawings. “Designs.”

“For what?”

“I was an engineering major,” he says simply, shrugging. You can tell he’s a little uncomfortable, but when he doesn’t elaborate, your curiosity outweighs your manners.

“You went to college?”

“Don’t say it like that,” Eren chides, scooping you up bridal-style, sheets and all, and walking you both back over to sit on the bed. Your stomach does somersaults; you don’t think you’ll ever get tired of how easily he can just move you where he wants. “Yeah, I sell drugs or whatever, but ‘m not a complete idiot.”

“I’m sorry,” you say earnestly, letting him open your legs and gently wipe at you where you’re sticky and dripping, “I didn’t mean it like that. I’m just surprised s’all. Why didn’t you do anything with your degree?”

Eren frowns, clearly you’ve hit a sore spot. “I couldn’t stand the idea of the nine to five, wife and kids shit. My dad and my brother really pushed it on me, so they haven’t exactly been gung-ho about the fact I never used my diploma. They still think I’m just bartending somewhere.”

You wince; from your conversation at Scout’s, you know you’ve now tread into completely inappropriate territory for a one-night stand. “I didn’t mean to bring it up, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Eren offers a tense smile, “you didn’t know.”

“Your drawings are actually really good.”

“They’re designs, not drawings,” Eren corrects you with a chuckle, “just because I finished school doesn’t mean I stopped liking the work. Just…don’t really want to settle yet, you know?”

You nod. “I know the feeling. Want to just drop it?”

Eren smiles gratefully, pulling the sheets back around you. “You cold? I can find something comfy for you to throw on while I cook.”

You scrunch your nose. “Cook?”

“Think I’d put in that much work on you and not take care of you after?” Eren snorts, already having set you on the bed and started rummaging through his drawers. “What kind of man do you take me for?”

You blush, having expected nothing more than a pat on the bottom and a goodbye after Eren added you as another notch in his belt. “Didn’t particularly take you for any type of man, but definitely not a chef. What are you cooking?

“Burgers,” Eren turns around with a triumphant grin, holding out a corny t-shirt that says Kiss the Chef on it in enormous, white letters. “You want this one, or the Grill Dad shirt?”

[whats-her-quirk]

Secret Oath Chapter 6

last || m.list

➷➷➷➷➷

marco bott x fem!reader

18+ mdni

word count: 3.5k

chapter warnings: sex talk, smooching, swimming, dick insecurity

a/n: attempting to post this on my iPad was a mistake but I just couldn’t wait.

♪ washing machine heart by mitski

➷➷➷➷➷

You feel like you have a secret. The feeling of Marco’s lips burns on your own, so vibrant you wonder if people can see it on your face. If that’s not obvious, Marco holds your hand all the way back to the cabin that night. You part at the door with one last kiss, his palm resting warmly on the side of your neck. You don’t know if anyone sees. You don’t know if you care.

When you step inside the cabin, bodies scramble away from the window in a ruckus. Hitch dives for her bunk while Ymir and Historia flop onto the floor, as if they had already been lying there. Mikasa doesn’t move; she’s writing in a journal on the other side of the room.

Your face heats, but you try not to let it show. “Lurkers.”

Ymir and Historia explode into a fit of giggles while Hitch flings herself at you, squealing. “You did it!”

You’re quick to shush them. Even if it’s not a secret, you don’t want to embarrass Marco if the boys hear everyone screaming about him through the wall.

Hitch takes your cheeks in her hands, practically touching her nose to yours as she stares into your eyes. “Tell me everything.”

You’re somewhere between giddy and embarrassed, still trying to wrap your brain around it. “We just kissed, that’s all.”

Hitch claps her hands. “Details, details! Was it everything you dreamed it would be?”

You bite your lip to hide your smile. “Yeah.” You can’t even lie.

Historia squeals and slaps Ymir eagerly on the arm.

“Ok, ok, ok, chill. I’m excited too but oh my god,” you shush again.

“You are IN, baby!” says Hitch.

“We’ll see.”

“You WILL deflower him, or so help me god–”

“YMIR!”

But you hope she’s right. You really hope she’s right.

In an effort to keep your cool, you start digging around in your suitcase for pajamas. “So Hitch. Any updates on Erwin?”

She pouts. “No. I’m not getting anywhere with him.”

Mikasa shuts her journal. “Oh, Erwin? He’s dating Levi.”

Everyone freezes, staring at her. “...What?”

“Who the fuck is Levi?” Ymir demands.

“Levi,” Mikasa says, like it’s obvious. “The groundskeeper. The short one.”

He must be the one who found Zofia’s sunglasses. “I had no idea who he was.”

“Kenny is my dad’s cousin. Levi is his nephew,” she explains. “But yes. He’s also Erwin’s boyfriend. Don’t tell anyone about it though, Levi is super private.”

“He just appears out of nowhere sometimes. I was starting to think he was a ghost or something,” says Historia.

Hitch hops happily into her bunk. “Well. Good for them. And good to know I’m not losing my touch.”

-

Even though you really want to, you don’t kiss Marco again in the morning. You settle for a lingering brush of your hands when he brings you another cup of coffee at breakfast. There’s so much warmth in the way he looks at you, but something’s off. He’s jittery, more nervous than the night before.

Keeping your voice low, you lean over and ask, close to his ear, “You want to talk later?”

He clears his throat. “Yeah, that would be good.”

You don’t want to scare him, and you’re not trying to rush, but, “Are you ok?”

Under the table, his hand skims your thigh before pulling back. “Yes. I just… Yeah. We should talk.”

“Ok. Meet me during free time?”

“For sure.”

You don’t think Marco would lie to you. Even though you do your best to take him at face value, you can’t help but worry something’s wrong. When you part for group activities, he brushes a few strands of hair from the back of your neck lightly with his fingertips, like he wants to touch you but he’s afraid. It’s reassuring, but a knot settles in your stomach as you lead your campers to music class.

In the lodge, where Nifa teaches her sessions, she carries around a box of small instruments and noisemakers: maracas, kazoos, sandpaper blocks to rub and clap together. No matter how many times you tell 20 kids to wait until they’re told to play, the temptation is too great. They can’t manage to be quiet while she gives directions.

Jean retrieves his acoustic guitar from the cabin to play along, and you tap on a mini tambourine while Nifa teaches some basic rhythms to fit the songs the kids already know. When the campers reach the limit of their ability to pay attention, Jean offers to take some song requests so everyone can have a little break.

The kids ask for a little bit of everything, from Queen to Post Malone. Zofia requests “the washing machine song” by Mitski, which she claims she heard about from her big sister. You help Jean lead a couple songs before handing the reins back over to Nifa.

To give your ears a rest, the two of you settle onto one of the couches in the corner. Jean strums absentmindedly on his guitar while you fold your legs under you and lean back against the arm of the couch. “Play Wonderwall,” you tease after a short pause.

He snorts but plucks the chord progression quietly anyway, maybe just to prove that (of course) he can. “You doin’ ok today?”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Why?”

“You’re wringing your hands a lot,” he shrugs. “Usually a sign that something’s bothering you. Just thought I’d ask.”

“How much do you know?”

Jean doesn’t look up from his guitar. “All of it, I think.”

If Marco told anyone what happened, you suspected it would have been Jean. “I’m fine, but it doesn’t seem like he is. Do you know if there’s anything I did–”

“He is absolutely crazy about you, first of all.” Jean doesn’t hesitate, his hands still moving over the guitar strings. “He’s nervous about being able to… please you. Since he doesn’t have much experience.”

“Please me?”

Jean lowers his voice to a mumble. “He’s scared he’s going to be bad at sex.”

“Oh my god. Did he ask you for tips?” You can’t help but tease. It’s an impulse.

Jean shushes you. “It was more like, he knows that you and I used to… so he came to me all freaked out that I was going to be mad if you two got together.”

“And you told him…?”

“That we’re just friends, obviously. And that he doesn’t need my blessing, or whatever.” Jean sighs. “I tried to tell him not to worry, but he won’t relax until he hears it from you.”

“I mean, of course I’m gonna tell him the same thing. Even if he doesn’t want to–”

Jean cuts you off again. “Oh, he wants to.”

Your heart rushes. The anticipation may actually kill you. “Thank you for talking to him. I hope it hasn’t been too awkward.”

Jean rolls his eyes, overdramatic. “How could I not be happy about two of my best friends dating each other.” It’s not a question. “Meanwhile, I’m just a perpetual third wheel.”

You nudge him with your foot. “Come on, it’s not like that.”

He mutes the guitar with his palm. “Last night, I caught Eren and Mikasa fucking in a canoe.”

You slap a hand over your mouth, muffling the strangled, dying animal sound that escapes anyway. “I knew it,” you whisper-scream. “I KNEW it!”

Jean stares at you, deadpan.

You tilt your head, pitying. “I’m sorry. I know you were really hoping–”

“It’s fine. She’s not into me. I’ll get over it. I accept that I’m having a celibate summer.”

“Maybe Pock and Reiner would let you–”

“What, watch?”

“I wasn’t going to say that.”

“I’d rather third wheel Jaeger than witness Reiner finding himself, thanks.”

“You don’t mean that.”

Jean chokes on a laugh. “You’re right, what am I saying?”

-

The afternoon sun is sweltering, the air humid and sticky after a brief rain shower during lunch. It’s too hot to sit in the cabin, even with the fans on, but the air conditioning of the mess hall is far too public for the conversation you’re about to have. Instead, you and Marco claim a porch swing on the upper deck of the lodge, nestled in the far corner where nobody can sneak up on you.

Marco’s long legs reach the floor, and he uses them to rock the swing slowly back and forth. He reaches over for your hand, wrapping his own around it in your lap. You stroke the back of his knuckles while you talk, marveling at how comfortable it is to touch him. It’s like you’ve known him forever, even though it’s only been a couple weeks.

While you could just sit there with him for hours, you know you only have so much time. “I want to be abundantly clear,” you begin. “I really like you. I have for a while.”

Marco exhales. “Doesn’t it bother you that I’ve never dated anyone before? Or that I’ve never slept with anyone?”

“Not at all. I like every part of you, Marco.” You give his hand a squeeze, feeling a little bashful, but you know this is a conversation you need to have. “In fact, I kind of think it’s sort of hot.”

Marco laughs before he can stop himself. He turns to you, face reddening. “You’re serious?”

You nudge his side with your shoulder. “Yes. I mean, I would still like you even if that weren’t the case. But yeah. You’re sweet, you’re funny, you’re hot.”

“Nobody has ever called me hot before.”

“Now that’s hard to believe. And I’ve thought about it a lot. And… things I want to do with you.”

“No way it’s as much as I’ve thought about you.” He plays with your hands, rubbing your thumb with his own.

You cuddle a little closer, your hip touching his. “But hey. I think it would be good for us to talk about it a little first.” Something occurs to you for the first time. “Was last night your first kiss?”

“No,” Marco chuckles. “There were a few girls in high school, not girlfriends, but I don’t know. Crushes, I guess. I made out with my senior prom date.” Marco glances over your head before he continues.

“She asked me to touch her boobs, so I did. But I basically stopped her when she started trying to unzip my pants. We were at an after-party, behind someone’s barn, and I was scared of getting caught.”

“Nothing wrong with that,” you agree. “Is that the farthest you’ve gone?”

Marco clears his throat. “There was this girl freshman year, Rico. We’d taken a lot of AP classes together, but then she went to a different college. She got in touch when she was in town visiting once, so we went out for dinner and then back to my dorm. We kissed a lot, and she got naked in my bed, but uh.”

You try to help. “But you didn’t go all the way?”

“Yeah.” He goes quiet, gently rocking the swing back and forth with his heels.

“Did something happen?”

He clears his throat again. “It’s embarrassing.”

Your head falls against his shoulder. “I won’t make you tell me, but if there’s something I can do to make sure the same thing doesn’t happen with us—”

“My dick scared her away.”

“You... What?”

Marco sighs. “I got hard, and she got me out of my pants, but when she saw my dick, she changed her mind.”

Your brain short circuits. What could possibly—

“Not anything like… She said it was too big. And I know how that sounds, but I felt like a freak. She just got dressed and left. I don’t blame her or anything. But yeah.”

You squeeze his hand. “That must have been really tough, I’m sorry. But you know, also, some people don’t mind that. Plenty of people like it, actually.”

“So I’ve been led to believe,” Marco chuckles awkwardly. “But the evidence to the contrary… it was hard for me to get over for a long time.”

“I get it. We all have our things. But thank you for telling me. For the record,” you click your tongue. “I am very much ok with that.”

Marco’s cheeks turn an even warmer shade of red.

“Would it make you feel better to know how many guys I’ve been with?”

“Yes,” Marco answers immediately. So he’s definitely been preoccupied.

“Four.” It doesn’t bother you to tell him. And it’s only fair, considering how open he was with you too. 

“The first was this guy, Eld, that I met at a frat party the first week of my freshman year. I was very much exploring all my newfound freedom then. We hooked up a couple times, but it just kind of fizzled out after that.”

“Then there was this guy I worked with at the library. We dated for a while, but the breakup was bad.” You can chuckle about it now, looking back, but, “I had to transfer my work-study to the admissions department to get away from him.”

“Sorry. You’re ok?” Marco asks.

“Yep, it’s fine. Haven’t heard from him in ages.”

“That’s good,” Marco agrees. “And you and Jean?” he asks cautiously.

“Yeah, last summer. But you know we’re just friends now, right?”

Marco sweeps his thumb back and forth across your hand. “Yeah.”

Before he can get too in his head about it, you continue. “And I’ve never told anyone this. But the fourth guy was Moblit.”

Marco’s jaw drops before he can catch it. “Wait, really?”

You nod. “Don’t tell, especially not Hitch, or else everyone will know within minutes,” you laugh. “He doesn’t want people bugging him about it, and I can’t blame him. But yeah, we used to hook up in the chapel.” Secluded in the woods, the chapel is off one of the hiking trails and apparently used by some church camps here during the year. Somehow, nobody ever found out, but you want Marco to know everything.

You tell him how despite his general demeanor, you’d made quick friends with Moblit last summer, and inevitably, the two of you became closer and closer until the tension burst. You could match his sarcasm, and he started giving you rides in the staff golf cart whenever you crossed paths. Those turned into little joyrides late at night, when the campers were asleep and you weaseled out of card games or ghost stories with your friends.

The night you ended up at the chapel, you sat together for hours by torchlight just talking. Things got a little deep—he was hung up on Hange, who was either too oblivious to notice or knew everything and just wanted to make him squirm. Meanwhile, you were becoming aware that Jean was much more in love with you than you were with him. After baring your hearts to one another, it was easy to let him pull you into his lap and get some frustration out of your systems.

Moblit made it very clear: you were just friends with some very satisfying physical benefits, and you were fine with that. There was perhaps a second in time where you thought it was a shame—he was the best you’d ever had, every time—but it was also clear that the two of you weren’t truly compatible. You couldn’t date him; you liked picking on him too much.

For a few seconds, Marco is quiet. Just as you start to worry, a smirk pulls at his lips. “Ok, now that’s pretty hot. And impressively mature. But the secret is safe with me.”

“Good, it better be. Or else Mobs would kill me and you’d never find my body.”

“Understood. Speaking of, I saw Hitch heading down the trail with Zeke today. Do you think—?”

“Yes. I think it’s exactly what it looks like.” Erwin is taken, and she’s found her next mark.

Marco’s brows arch. “You don’t say?”

You give him a nudge. “Ok, Gossip Girl. I thought we were here to talk about us.”

“You’re right, sorry, sorry.”

“It’s fine.” You curl your hand into his shirt, wanting to be as close to him as you practically can be. Though you feel you’ve pretty much covered everything, you still have to ask, “So if you’re feeling a little better, and you want to find some time together, I also want… that. You.”

Marco inhales so hard, he coughs. “Um. Yeah. I do. But I know we should be kind of strategic about where and when. And I’m not going to lie, I’m really nervous. I might need you to… teach me.”

Your stomach flutters. “I don’t think you understand how hot that is,” you whisper.

“I really don’t. But I guess if it’s working…” Marco lets go of your hand to rub the back of his neck.

You press a kiss to his burning cheek. “Maybe tomorrow. Just give me a little time to arrange some stuff.” You have an idea, and someone claiming to be your wingwoman who better be ready to make good on her word.

Some kids race by on the lower deck, their feet pounding the old wooden boards. Gabi chases Falco out to the tetherball court, shouting after him about how she’s going to win every match.

You clear your throat. “One more thing. You did buy the condoms, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Ok, good,” you sigh. “I really didn’t want to go ask Bert for some.”

Marco sputters a laugh. “I think that would honestly be worse for him that it would be for you.”

You double over into Marco’s lap, both of you giggling, happy, clinging to each other, not wanting to let go.

-

There‘s a nearly full moon hanging in the sky, and the air is balmy and warm, even for after sunset. On top of that, the Galliards have been talked into sticking around for the night. Everything quickly falls into place for a night swim—the first of the season.

After the evening campfire, all the campers are sent to bed, and the rest of you rush back to your cabins to change. Towels in hand, you all tromp down to the lake to splash under the stars.

Marcel leads the way. “Listen, I know you’re not kids, but don’t go in far enough that the water is over your heads. There’s not enough light down here, and you have to be careful.”

Ymir gives a salute. “Got it, dad.”

“Could you not?”

And they’re bickering again.

As you near the shore, you just barely notice some silhouettes in the water. Two people, you think, too big to be campers, one particularly tall. Miche and Zeke are with you, which leaves—

You gasp and grab Hitch by the wrist. “Look.” She slaps a hand over her mouth to keep from shrieking.

Against his word, Erwin is in the lake up to his waist, where Levi is wrapped around him, arms thrown over his shoulders as they wade together. 

Miche whistles, and they snap apart, both darting for shore on the far side of the dock.

You smack his arm with the back of your hand. “Why are you the way that you are?” 

He blows air through his lips. “Psh. They’re fine. And trust me, they’re not good at keeping their own secret anyway. Just the other day I went out to the shed for a broom, and they were—“

“Spare me,” Zeke says before letting his palm fall to the small of Hitch’s back.

Miche gives him a glare that makes you wonder why it’s warranted.

As soon as your toes dip into the lake, you can understand what drew Levi and Erwin here for some alone time. The water seems to sparkle, the way it reflects the stars out here, the sky ironically bright in the relative darkness of the mountainside. Even with chatter and splashing all around you, it’s easy to feel alone but peaceful.

A light wind blows ripples across the water, but mostly, it’s all still. You glance behind you—Mikasa sits with Eren at the shoreline, only their legs in the water. Zeke carries Hitch on his back, her feet kicking in delight. Reiner and Porco see who can hold a handstand the longest before playing with each other’s hands while Ymir and Historia assume basically the same position Erwin and Levi had been in.

Now that you think about it, that didn’t sound like such a bad idea.

Marco was never more than a breath away. You’ve walked out about as far as you could go with your neck still above water, while he’s only chest deep. He bends a bit at the knees, reaching for you. You paste yourself to his side, wrapping your legs around the notch in his hip where you fit perfectly. Subtly, he brushes a kiss behind your ear. Once again, if anyone is watching, you don’t really care.

Your body aches for him, but you’ll have to wait just a little longer. For tonight, though, this is enough. In fact, it’s perfect.

➷➷➷➷➷

last || m.list

[koiishyy]

The death of peace of mind (time is a thief)

ღ summary : Your keen sense for imminent threats and disaster's goes haywire during an otherwise once in a lifetime festival, and if you were given one more minute, then everything might have been different. pairing : porco galliard x braun! reader tags/content warnings : graphic depictions of violence, swearing, depictions of a panic attack and survivors guilt. pre-established relationship, hurt/comfort. a/n: this is the first reader fic i've uploaded to tumblr since i was fourteen, be gentle with my soul pls. enjoy!

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There’s a taste lingering on the tip of your tongue.

It’s sickeningly sweet and accompanied by an icy chill that sends goosebumps pricking across your biceps. Dribbling down the side of your hand, it trickles across your skin towards your sleeve. At this rate, it’ll stain the cream-colored uniform. With another lick, you quell the racing liquid.

Strawberries.

It tastes like well-ripened strawberries.

Ice cream isn’t a luxury you’re often afforded within the Liberio internment camp. It’s one of many foods that is solely attainable past the gates. A delicacy that the Marleyans decided to withhold from the spawns of devils. You can stain your hands with the blood of their enemies and do their dirty work, but they can’t even allow the simple, regular pleasure of ice cream.

Today is a different tale, however. Today is a celebration. The war against the Allied Forces took longer than predicted, but even with the countless setbacks, Marley’s victory reigns true.

All thanks to the race they despise so much, of course.

Now, there’s vendors packed, lining the streets of Liberio. Exotic foods and little knick-knacks sit front and present at every booth. It’s supposed to put the foreign guests at ease and make them feel happy that they signed a peace treaty with the country that proceeded to massacre them. There’s supposed to be a play about what you have no idea—at some point in the debrief you had tuned out Zeke’s voice.

The younger candidate’s run amok before you, weaving through the crowd with excitement gleaming in their eyes. Every sweet treat entices them, and every savory dish catches their wonder-filled eyes. Of course, your sister is among them; in fact, Gabi is the most vocal of them. Her brown eyes ogle fascinated over a monstrosity of a chocolate drizzled crepe, the desire to stuff her belly full of the unique pastries setting her up for stomach-aching punishment later.

She’s babbling to Reiner, whom, for once, you’re grateful for, over the treat. He’s been graciously paying for the food, even at your protests.

Over the years of your youth, you’ve butted heads more times than you’d like to admit with your cousin. His arrogance over being a half-blooded Marleyan being the biggest argument starter. Now, after he returned from Paradis, he’s different. Different in a way you can’t quite put your finger on. Whatever he went through with the island devils changed him. You don’t argue anymore, not like you used to.

Pieck has also been keeping up well with the candidates, trailing after them and engaging in conversation. You watch as money exchanges hands and Gabi receives her crepe. Pieck laughs as she practically inhales it after the first bite. You even manage to capture the faint crack of a smile from Reiner.

Udo and Zofia stand off to the side. Udo does most of the talking you notice. The kid has the innate ability to chatter on about any topic. Zofia listens, never once interrupting him or telling him to quiet down.

A little ways away, you spot the Grice brothers, who have ventured just a tad bit further than the group. Colt ruffles Falco’s hair, which earns him annoyed swats from Falco. You’re surprised that Falco isn’t glued to Gabi’s side.

Everyone’s having a fantastic time. Plenty of laughter is being had, and delicious food is being consumed and enjoyed. It’s good company. It’s a beautiful day. Most of the veteran warriors have even let their guards down.

Everyone is happy. So why can’t you be?

“Your ice cream’s melting.”

The words jolt you violently from your endless thoughts. Physically, your head recoils, jerking upwards in the direction of the familiar voice. In the midst of staring off into space, Porco has retreated to your side. He looks at you with a hint of concern and a wealth of curiosity written across his features.

Your eyes trail towards the half-eaten ice cream cone tucked in your grasp. It threatens to become a watery soup. The pink-tinted liquid trails in multiple lines down your hands, sticky and warm now.

“Shit,” You hiss softly, transferring the cone between your hands. You shake the hand covered in liquid, flinging droplets of ice cream against the ground. You’re not even sure why you’re still holding onto it—your appetite has long gone. Porco sighs, pulling a brown napkin from his jacket pocket. He extends it in your direction and you gladly take it. “Thanks.”

“What’s on your mind?” He asks.

“What?” You blink, tossing the ice cream into a nearby garbage bin. Shaking your head, you wipe your hands clean. “Nothing.”

Porco gives you a knowing look—a look you despise. A frown tugs at your lips. He never misses the slightest change in your behavior. You hate it.

“You always finish your food.” Porco points out. “Lying to me is stupid; why don’t you just tell me?”

He’s right; you hate that he’s right. Lying to him is stupid, considering you’re more honest with Porco than anyone else. You’re being difficult for no reason.

Well, you do have a reason, just not a particularly good one.

“I just have a bad feeling.”

Porco’s eyebrows furrow. “About this and the play?” He inquires, and you nod in response. “The allied forces have already signed the treaty. The war is over. No one would be dumb enough to plan an attack in Liberio anyhow.”

“Treaties are broken all the time.” You remind him.

Enchanting hazel eyes trail over your face, and your heart skips a beat. “It’s your gut, isn’t it?” Porco asks.

Instinctively, your hand grazes against your abdomen, a nauseating feeling building in your stomach. “My gut’s never wrong.” You say. “You should know, it’s saved your ass more times than I can count.”

“Not every time.” Porco argues. “Also, I save my own ass and everyone else's—and yours too.”

You roll your eyes. “Name one time I’ve been wrong.”

Porco’s lips part, the resemblance of a word forming on them, only for no sound to come out. They bob open and closed, and you can almost visibly see the gears turning in his brain. He looks stumped. He struggles for a moment, too stubborn to accept the truth, before finally relenting to the glaring reality.

Your gut has never been wrong.

This keen sense for imminent disaster was one of the reasons you earned your warrior candidacy. Gabi calls it your sixth sense. You could sense a threat from a mile away. No one could ever pull a stealth attack on you because your gut was never - and has never been wrong.

Porco’s eyes comb the crowd before wrapping one of his large hands around your wrist. He gently tugs you to an abrupt stop, redirecting your course to a secluded portion of the street—in an alleyway between two nearby buildings. The group continues onward, temporarily oblivious to the loss of two of its members.

Porco turns to you, serious as ever. His intense gaze causes butterflies to awaken and flutter about in your stomach. “Say your gut’s right; do you think we’d need to be worried about it?” He asks, his hand falling from your wrist to your hand and curling his fingers around your own. “It’d have to be one hell of a sneak attack.”

An exhausted, tense sigh falls from your lips. “Of course it would, but you saw how badly Reiner’s armored titan was destroyed by the artillery.”

“That’s because Reiner’s useless.” He grumbles under his breath.

You scowl, continuing with your train of thought. “And Pieck’s equipment takes precious time to transport and set up—time we won’t have.”

Apprehension lingers in him, but you can tell he believes you—or at the very least in you. Your eyes flicker across his face, knowing that he trusts you and that this pointless questioning is only for his peace of mind. He knows you would never be this worked up over something if you didn’t believe it. He knows you. He knows you.

So, he relents.

“I’ll let Pieck know.” Porco says, his hand trailing up to your cheek. He cups the side of your face, sighing. You lean into his touch—his soft, gentle touch. It’s a side of Porco that only you see regularly. “No one will trust just a gut feeling—especially not from us. So stay alert, okay? Stay near me until this is over.”

Relief floods through you instantaneously, and you nod. “I’ve got your back.”

“And I’ve got yours.” Porco smirks. He gazes at you for a moment, his cheeks growing a pinkish hue to them. His usual cool confidence falters. Shyly, he murmurs, “You look pretty today; did I tell you that?”

“No, you didn’t.” You grin. “But I’m only pretty today, though?” You tease.

“What? Well, no, of course not.” Porco flusteredly stammers out. A giggle breaks through your lips. “You look pretty every day; just today you—ah, goddammit, nevermind—forget it.”

It’s rare that you get moments like these. Moments where you are not warriors or dirt-blooded Eldians. Moments where your lives are simple and you get to act like every normal couple.

Embarrassed by your teasing, Porco grumpily attempts to depart. Softly laughing, you tug him back to you. “C’mon, I’m kidding, Pock.” You say, pulling him in by his jacket. “Stay with me. Just for another minute, please?”

He can never resist those puppy-dog eyes of yours. Porco sighs and obliges. “One more minute.”

The two of you lock eyes, and the world dissolves around you. Porco leans down, pressing his lips to yours. One kiss, two kisses, three. His lips envelope yours, gentle but a little sloppily. His hand slides up the small of your back, keeping your body pressed into his.

It’s bliss. Loving Porco is a private affair; these moments that bear the threat of the public eye are few and far between. You cherish them, silently wishing to scream your love from the rooftops. A wish that will never come to fruition—not with your positions.

Coming up for air, you pull back. Still not wanting to break the bubble just yet, Porco leans to press his forehead against yours. The tip of your nose kisses his, and a small smile tugs at your lips. Your eyes lull shut once more, savoring every moment of this temporary peace.

Until you hear the distinct sound of someone calling for you, Gabi’s voice rings across the streets. Your eyes spring open, and you catch a glimpse of her on the main road, Reiner in tow. You still, watching as they disappear down the street.

“Minute over.” You murmur.

Porco hums in response. “Minute over.” He echoes, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Let’s go.”

---

One more minute.

Clawing at your throat, bile threatens to spill over from you. There’s an aching in your chest, a hammering against your ribcage. Your heart threatens to crack the very ribs that protect it. Your footsteps feel heavy, weighted by cement. There’s a dull pain thudding behind your dry, bloodshot eyes, the capillaries in them threatening to burst at the seams.

You wish you would have stayed in that alleyway for just one more minute.

Corpses would still litter the streets of the place you call home, crimson blood pooling against the concrete and staining the pavement. The hospitals would still be overfilled—maximized to their capacity—and even then, with patients scattered across the hallways. Smoke would still billow, flames roaring in the midst of building debris. The crisp, icy water of the sea would still hold the remnants of Marley’s naval fleet—pieces of their vessels floating aimlessly across the ocean.

A minute wouldn’t have prevented this. A minute wouldn’t have fixed this.

But for a minute, the vile image of Zofia’s pulverized upper body wouldn’t be on repeat in your mind—the mental image of her limp legs connected to nothing haunting you whenever you squeezed your eyes shut. A minute would have spared you the feeling of Udo’s arm slipping from your grasp in the midst of the panic. A minute would have given you the opportunity to hold your sister close, keeping Gabi by your side and never letting her go. Another would have prevented her from boarding that airship and taking Falco with her.

Breathe.

You have to order yourself to take deep breaths, lest you claw at your skin and tear the feeling of guilt out of your muscles. The miserable feeling clutches your chest like a vise, constricting your lungs. Tears threaten to spill from the corners of your eyes. You blink them back—you don’t get to cry, not yet.

Breathe.

Forcing out another sputtering breath is like swallowing a hot coal. The acidic burn in your throat is only reinforced by the action. You keep swallowing, attempting to provide some sort of aid to no avail.

The Paradis devils. Eren Yeager. They’ve destroyed your home and killed innocent civilians who had nothing to do with the Warriors actions. And now they have Falco and your sister—your baby sister.

Through the shroud of grief, there is only panic.

Is she a prisoner of war? Is she dead? Are they going to torture her for information? Will they use the same methods that Marley does? You don’t even want to think about it.

Your gut tells you she’s alive.

And it’s so hard to breathe.

Breathe.

You failed them.

It’s clear as day, plain and simple. You should have spoken up and told someone with a higher ranking about your gut feeling. Instead, you doubted your judgment. General Magath might have listened, though the rest really would have never believed something as silly as a gut feeling.

But you did fail them: Zofia, Udo, Gabi, Falco, Pieck, Reiner, Colt...

Porco.

Oh god, Porco.

You finally reach his bedside, unsteady and five seconds away from completely unraveling. The feeling of breaking completely only intensifies as your eyes roam Porco’s unconscious body. The Warriors took a brutal assault from Eren Yeager, one that not even your gut could have predicted.

Temporarily, relief floods you. Porco is alive; his body is regenerating. It’s clear the doctors have done all they can for him, the only course of action to allow the titan’s power to complete the rest.

It’s the worst shape you’ve ever seen him in after a battle.

You practically collapse into a nearby chair, unable to stand on the two feet that have been carrying you throughout Liberio tonight. All you can do for a moment is stare at him, watching as his chest slowly rises and deflates. He’s alive. He’s alive, he’s alive, he’s alive...

And Udo and Zofia are not.

Shakily, your hand reaches out for Porco’s, his fingers clammy and cold to the touch as you clasp your hand around his. Thousands of emotions rush through your veins, and your mind fights tooth and nail to make sense of all of them. You cling to him, the relief of him being alive and the guilt of being glad that he is alive swirling within you all at once. How are you going to be glad he’s alive when your sister is gone and people are dead? How are you going to feel glad he’s alive when you should have been by his side in the first place?

You don’t know.

You break.

The tears come pouring out in rapid succession. “I’m sorry.” You say this through gritted teeth, lowering your head against Porco’s arm. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have left your side.”

You fall asleep curled over his bedside, his hand in yours, clinging on for dear life.

---

Porco doesn’t wake for a while, even after his body has recuperated.

Over the span of his unconsciousness, you’ve been flip-flopping between the hospital and your home in what little free time you’re offered, checking on your parents and giving your aunt updates on Reiner.

Your parents are wrought with grief, convinced that Gabi has been killed. The crying is incessant from your mother, while your father is stone-cold and quiet. But you know better—Gabi is not dead. You don’t tell them that, though; the fate of her being alive in the hands of the island devils might be worse than her being dead.

When Porco does wake up, you’re there.

You barely register the subtle flex of his fingers against yours; he is far too busy spacing off. Porco stirs to life, a pained grunt erupting from his lips. His eyes flutter open, adjusting to the haze of his newfound surroundings and trying to come to terms with what he remembered before blacking out. By the time you notice, he’s already speaking.

“You're going to squeeze my fingers off.” Porco’s raspy voice grumbles from beneath you. Dazed, his tired eyes peer up at you from beneath heavy lids.

His first words to you almost want to make you laugh—or cry—solely because of the fact that he’s speaking. Porco’s always been terrible with words. When he confessed his love to you, it took you a good ten minutes to actually understand what he was saying. It’s one of the most endearing things about him.

But you can’t muster a laugh, and you’ve almost cried your body's weight in water. There’s nothing left for you to do besides softly gasp, “You’re awake.”

"Yeah, and I hurt like hell.” Porco murmurs, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows hard. You turn and reach for the water at his bedside as he props himself up. He squeezes your hand as he takes it. “What happened?”

Your body stills, reforming itself into something statue-like. One wrong move, and you're certain your limbs will crumble into dust. Regardless of what you believe, you have to tell him everything, much like you had to fill in Pieck when she awoke.

So you do. You tell Porco everything that has happened or did happen as a result of Paradis’s raid on Liberio. You recount the death toll as you know it, including Zofia and Udo. You assure him that his parents are okay. You tell him the effort to rebuild the destruction and scrub the city clean is already under way. You tell him about Pieck and Reiner, you tell him about Zeke.

Much like you did, Porco goes through a range of emotions. The prevalent one is anger; you can see it bubble and dwell beneath his skin. A fierce look glints in his eye, and you let him break into a tangent, surprised that he managed to keep his anger controlled this long. Deep down, you know he blames himself, much like you do.

Once he cools, he looks at you. “How’s Gabi?” He asks.

Your mouth runs dry. You had been purposefully pushing that part of the story until the bitter end. “Gabi’s….Gabi’s gone.” You strain out.

“Gabi’s dead?” Porco’s eyes grow wide. He leans forward, all attention on you.

You shake your head. “Gabi’s not dead.” What little tears you can produce struggle their way out, burning white-hot at the corners of your eyes. “S-she’s gone. They took her. She boarded that damn airship, and Falco went with her.”

It becomes a struggle to breathe again. The all-consuming panic crashes over you like a tidal wave. You wish you could be stronger about it, like you have been, but in the presence of Porco, you shatter all over again.

“Hey," Porco coaxes, tugging at you. “C’mere.”

You crawl into the creaky hospital cot with him, careful about where you put pressure. You don’t care what your position is or who sees it; you need him. Porco seems to have the same sentiment as he guides you. You rest your head against his chest, thankful for the slow, steady beat of his heart that thuds in your ears.

“She’s gone, Pock. They took her and Falco, and they killed Zofia, and it’s all my fault.” You whimper against his chest, once again fighting back the trickling downpour on your cheeks. Absent-mindedly, Porco’s fingers comb through your hair.

“Don’t say that.” Porco firmly commands. “This isn’t your fault. This isn’t anyone’s fault but those fucking island devils'. I swear-“

“Porco.”

He sharply inhales, running his free hand along his mouth. “What?”

“I should have had your back.” You say, curling into his body. “I’m - I'm really glad you’re alive.”

Porco’s fingers grow still in your hair. You hear the quick skip of his heartbeat, and your eyes flicker to his face. A faint smirk pulls at his lips. “They can’t kill me that easily, not when I have you to come back to.” He tells you. Porco pulls you as close as he can, mushing your bodies together. “Don’t worry,” he whispers. “We’ll get Gabi back, I promise. Whatever it takes.”

You believe him, body and soul, because you know him. Nodding at his words, face brushing against the rough fabric of his shirt, you mold yourself against the shape of his frame. You clutch to the only thing that makes sense in the world at the moment—tired and weary.

“I love you.” You murmur.

A quick second passes, and you begin to believe he hadn’t heard you, until he murmurs back a soft "I love you, too.”

And in that minute, you wish you could stay in his arms forever.

[yourlocaltrashcan657]

hiiii I really like ur oneshots. Can you do yandere platonic Pieck x fem child reader who's deaf? the reader is the candidate to be the next cart titan and they have a very close bond with Pieck. Although, the reader usually gets discriminated by Marleyans because she's both eldian and deaf.

one day, the reader is out on the streets with Pieck, Reiner, Gabi and everyone else. Pieck ends up overhearing some marleyan men speaking about the reader and saying horrible things so she snaps at them. an argument breaks out resulting in the reader getting scared since she can't hear what's going on.

later on, Pieck comforts the reader and hugs her and tells her (using sign language) that she sees her as a little sister.

little did anyone know, the marleyan men that made fun of the reader were never seen again.

My Warrior

“Gabi! Don’t be so upset that Y/N beat you again..” Falco scolded as he looked at the grumpy brunette.

”I’m not upset at Y/N!” Gabi said as she folded her arms and looked at the h/c girl. “How do you always manage to beat me?! You’re so quick that im jealous of you, in a good way of course.”

Y/N looked at the four candidates ahead of her and tilted her head slightly in confusion, wondering what they were talking about.

”Don’t worry you guys, I’ve been learning sign language.” Udo said as he began making gestures with his hand.

But as he did, more confusion rose as Y/N gave him a disturbed look before signaling him something that he couldn’t understand.

”What did you say?” Zofia asked as she played with Y/N’s hair gently.

”I’m pretty sure I asked her how she’s so quick and I think she got offended..?” Udo questioned to himself.

”Udo, maybe try learning sign language a bit more before attempting to perform it.” A soft voice called out from behind.

”Pieck-Chan!” Gabi and Falco exclaimed happily.

”Hello, what did you say exactly Udo?” Pieck asked as she looked at him signal with his hands, her eyes widening before she erupted with laughter.

”You said to her that your grandfather has diarrhoea!” Piek laughed out gently as Udo blushed bright red and the other candidates laughing.

”Udo, how’d you mess up that bad?” Falco giggled as he covered his mouth.

”We’re not even laughing at what you said, it’s how bad you are at sign language.” Zofia mumbled she stifled her laughter.

’Hello Y/N, how have you been today? I missed you greatly.’ Pieck signed in which Y/N responded with ‘I’m good! Although, Udo’s grandfather might not be too well..’

”What’d she say?” Gabi asked as she looked at Pieck.

”She said she’s feeling good but she’s concerned about Udos grandfather..” Pieck chuckled as all of the other warriors giggled. “Let’s get going shall we?”

”Okay!” The other four said in unison.

’Let’s get going then shall we?’ Pieck signed as Y/N nodded before holding onto her hand and walking with everyone.

“Today was so fun Pieck-chan!” Falco said excitedly as he looked at her.

”Not for me!” Gabi grumbled unhappily as she crossed her arms in front of her chest.

”Whys that?” Pieck asked as she swung her hands with Y/N.

”Y/N beat me in the agility race again!” Gabi mumbled unhappily. “And then Udo couldn’t translate properly so she never understood what I was asking.”

Pieck let go of the h/c girl’s hand to quickly sign ‘I heard you beat Gabi again, good job!’ and soon after Y/N blushed at the compliment before quickly signing ‘thank you!’.

”Reiner!” Gabi called out as the other candidates along with Gabi started running towards him.

”Hey Gabi.” Reiner greeted as he patted her head. “How was training today?”

Gabi simply furrowed her eyebrows and crossed her arms over her chest grumpily as the others sighed in sync. Y/N stared at Reiner before waving happily at him.

”Aww Y/N likes you.” Pieck cooed as she ran her fingers through Y/N’s hair.

”Yeah but we all know she loves you the most Pieck-chan!” Falco said as everyone agreed.

‘Can we get home now? I want to see my dad.’ Y/N signed in which Pieck signed back ‘of course, let’s go. Just the two of us.’

Walk along the cobblestone path, the two girls waved goodbye to the others before Pieck grabbed Y/N’s hand and began skipping with her in the alleyway towards her house. The older female smiled at her favourite warrior knowing she’d be safe in her care.

Though, most nights she’d wonder what Y/N would do after she inherited the Cart Titan. Sure, Pieck will have died and Y/N will become and Honourary Marleyan but who’d she go to when she needed support or care or love..?

Turning corners, Pieck recalled the dirty looks Y/N was getting once Marleyans saw her armband. Often commenting how they were all ‘devil children’ and that being deaf was a curse laid upon her for being born into this world. 

Once they reached Y/N’s home, Pieck simply walked in with her to see Y/N’s sick father laid on the sofa. He had passed out by the looks of it and was very sick. 

‘Pieck-chan?’ Y/N gestured.

’Yes?’ Pieck responded as she looked down at the young warrior.

‘I’m excited for tomorrow’s festival. I’m glad I’ll spend the day with you and feel safe from them.’ Y/N replied as she smiled shyly.Realising who Y/N meant, Pieck ruffled her hair before leaving the house and signalled a goodbye.

.

.

.

Approaching the gate, Y/N along with the others talked about another days training of physical activity and other activities.

”Udo scored the highest again on the test!” Gabi grumbled as she looked down at her results which were still impressive.

”That’s the best thing about being smart.” Udo movked jokingly before Zofia reminded them of his silly mistake from yesterday.

‘Y/N, did you enjoy today?’ Pieck signalled as she stared at the happy girl.

’I did! How was your meeting?’ Y/N responded as they stopped at the gate to show their papers and ID cards. As they began digging in their bags or pockets, a few Marleyan men could be heard scoffing and muttering quite loudly from a few steps away.

”How revolting. Not only a few devils wandering our streets but a deaf-mute brat.” A blonde man said, loud enough for the group to hear.

“Not only is it a devil but it’s been cursed with the ability to only live. I guess that’s the price it pays for being a devil.” A shorter and fatter man replied as they shuddered in disgust.

Pieck quickly walked over to them before calmly throwing insults at them which led to Reiner rushing over and pulling her. Porco looked over and rushed the absorbed teenagers away only for them to push him back and to continue watching.

Y/N covered her head as Zofia gently rubbed her back in a soothing manner before Reiner dragged Pieck away after apologising profusely.

”That was so reckless Pieck! Imagine what would’ve happened if I hadn’t stopped you.” Reiner scolded as they walked into the internment zone.

”Don’t listen to Reiner, Pieck-chan. You looked cool!”Udo exclaimed.

”Yeah! You were defending Y/N that the fat guy shivered so much probably broke the tile underneath him! You were badass!” Gabi complimented as Reiner begged her to quieten down.

”That’s not the point..” Pieck mumbled as she pulled Y/N to her side and gently rubbed her hand against Y/N’s arm.

Reaching to Reiners house, they all separated and said goodbye to one another. Pieck and Y/N strolled along the streets of Liberio awkwardly unlike any other time.

’Are you okay now?’ Pieck signalled.

‘I am now thank you.’ Y/N signalled back before biting her lip and forming hand symbols. ‘You shouldn’t have done that for me, Pieck-chan. Whatever they said didn’t affect me and you would’ve gotten in trouble.’

Pieck simply looked down at Y/N and gently patted her head and smiled as they reached the house. Hesitantly, Pieck bent down and pecked Y/N’s cheek to reassure her before waving goodbye and leaving.

The next day was bright and sunny as the five warriors made their way out of the Internment Zone to see a large group of Marleyan people surrounding what looked like a covered up body.

”How cruel.. who murders someone so graceful and innocent.” A lady muttered as she walked away from the crowd.

”Woah it must’ve been a really important person!” Gabi exclaimed. “It was quite close to the Internment Zone too, so you think they’ll inspect our houses again?”

”I’m afraid it’ll happen.” Falco whispered as he held Y/N’s handle gently.

Walking further down the streets, the group spotted Porco and Pieck standing behind a larger group of civilians.

”What happened?” Zofia bluntly asked.

”A murder. There was one down the road too wasn’t there?” Porco asked as Y/N walked over and embraced Pieck.

”Yeah. Falco and I think that Officers will inspect our houses again and roam the streets more.” Gabi stated.

”How absurd, two murders over night. I wonder who those two men must’ve been, and who of course murdered them.” Pieck said as she stroked Y/N’s hair gently before smirking menacingly.

[galaxyedging]

Sex worker!Max Lord x f!reader

WC:1.9k

Warnings: A little angst. Idiots in something that comes before love. Allusions to smutty times.

Summary: Hot on the heels of his first proposal Max hits you with another.

Series Masterlist

The Proposals

The yellow piece of paper that Max wrote on was unceremoniously stuffed into your purse as you headed to the office. The underground car park was a wash with flashes of red and blue. There was a queue of four or five cars waiting to get in. None of them moved an inch. Huffing you abandoned your car completely, your heels clicked purposefully on the ground as you strode towards the source of the lights. Three black SUVs sectioned off the elevator. Men in FBI windbreakers milled around talking on radios.

Something too garbled for you to hear got their attention. "We're on the move." One guy calls. They scattered, getting into two of the cars until only one guy was left by the third. He opened the back door before climbing into the driver's seat. The elevator pinged and the doors opened, revealing two board men escorting a third. The third you realised was your very red faced boss. He rants indignantly as they walk him to the SUV to load him in.

By now some of your other co-workers have arrived.

"Do you think they'll shut us down?" A voice asks over your left shoulder you open your mouth to speak but get cut off by a voice from the right. "Hardly, it's just a little embezzlement."

It was not in fact 'just a little embezzlement." After the company shut down. A long list of charges came to light. By some miracle you'd made it out with a very substantial severance pay check thanks to your excellent skills in negotiating a contract. It would give you some breathing room. Quite a lot in fact but this was still a major setback in your career. Things with Max were put on pause while you sorted through your options. It wasn't until a week later that you saw that Max had sent back your last payment. Max didn't have a cell phone so you had to leave a message at his apartment. When he didn't return in after a couple of days you got worried.

The florists wasn't hard to find. During one of your dinners, Max had spoken about how grateful he was for your help in getting it. He told you about his job, the area he worked and how the lovely old lady would cook for him. A warm smile was on his plump lips. 

Standing at his door you second guess yourself. Your hand hovering over his buzzer until a woman pops her head out of the store. "So you're Max's secret lady!" Her English was heavily accented, Eastern European maybe? Wherever she was from she uses her language to hush the man inside the shop that had clearly had made a disapproving comments.

"Come, come." She waved you in. "Don't mind Viktor. He doesn't have a romantic bone in his body."

"I'm Zofia." She held out her hand. Shaking it, you give her your name. "The last few weeks Max has spoken about you every day. About how pretty and lovely you are. He thinks I haven't noticed. He still calls you a 'work friend'. You work at the bar that Max works at." If it was a question she doesn't wait for an answer. Her hands moved as fast as her mouth as she gathers a bunch of flowers and wraps them. "It's not good for him. Those unsociable hours. Sometimes I get up in the night and he's rolling home at 2am looking exhausted. At least he always has a smile on his face! Here!" She hands you the bouquet she had made. It was simple and elegant. Wildflowers and baby's breath in a hessian cloth. "I've told Max to take you these many times. A declaration of affection doesn't have to be fancy. Just good and honest. Right, Viktor?" Viktor seemed to be used to not being able to  answer as he just nods his head before she continued. "Well off you go. He's been off work all week. He'll be pleased to see you." You barely get a thank you out for the flowers before she ushers you out of the door and presses Max's buzzer. 

"Coming." You hear Max's voice before his footsteps descending the stairs. The door swings open to reveal him there. He looks different. Good. But different. His hair is wavy. There is no suit or shirt. He wears jeans and a sweatshirt. It takes you a moment to process it all. 

"Hi." He looks happy to see you but the moment is fleeting as a voice calls from inside. "Dad?!" 

The word hangs in the air before he turns to answer "Just one minute. There's someone at the door."

How did you not know he was a father? Was there just the one kid up there or more? "I..erm. I called you but didn't return it. I thought I'd check on you. You're fine so…" Every part of your body was screaming to leave.

"Yeah. I'm sorry. I was busy. It's my first visitation weekend in…too long."

"That's why you needed the money."

"Yeah." He shifts uncomfortably. "I see you met Zofia." He gestures to the flowers. 

"Yeah. Lovely woman. Very chatty."

The lines around his eyes deepen as he laughs. "She is. Alistair, my son. Is here until Sunday night. I could come over then? Give you time to read my proposal?"

"That would be good. Enjoy your time with your son." Your feet move of their own accord as you exchange goodbyes. Getting into your car you feel yourself physically deflate. That was a lot. All you wanted to know was that he was okay. Now you know he talks about you enough to need a cover story. And that he has a kid. It's all a bit much as you drive home and bury yourself in looking for ways to save your career. 

Sunday nights rolls around. Your mom and dad chat on different phone in the house. You filled them in on the situation with work. Assuring them that you are fine the whole time. Confirming to your mom several times that you are not going to jail. After your dad finishes telling you how his boat is coming along and hangs up, your mom stays on the line. "Are you sure you're okay, Sweetpea?"

No, I want to give up this stupid idea I had that I could run my own company and come home with my tail between my legs. I want to crawl into bed in my childhood room, just regress and live a simple life. Maybe with a sweet, brown eyed man.

"I'm fine, Mom. I'm upset, obviously, but I'll survive. I love you."

"I love you, too." You could hear the smile in her voice.

Max arrives about half an hour after you said goodbye to your mom. It was odd for him to be late.

"Sorry, I'm late. My car broke down on the way home from dropping Alastair off."

"You should have called. You didn't need to come over after that stress."

"What better way to relieve some stress than to see you?" You can't help but smile. 

All week, every free second you had you thought about how you would have loved to be in his arms. Not jostling for power or control. Just being with each other. Caring for each other. It had been so long since you had that. A man in your life that wasn't seen as competition or the enemy. 

"Sorry, I didn't get to read your proposal. I've been snowed under with work stuff."

"That's okay. I may have rambled a little. I can write you a shorter version. It all boils down to one sentence." Max snaps up a pen and post it note from your paper stewn table and scribbles something. "Here."

The note he handed you was simple.

I want to remove rule number two.

"Max…" All the words stuck in your throat. "I can't…"

"Can't remove it from the contract? Fine, I quit." His hands thread with yours to pull you in.

Slowly, you allow him to move you closer. "Max, you need this job. You have a son."

"I couldn't have gotten a home without your money but I can manage now. I can't take your money for something I'd willingly give you for free anymore. I shouldn't have taken it for this long."

"You'd be given up on the money for what? Me? I'm not sure I can give you a relationship. I have to focus on finding a new job…"

"About that I have a business idea…."

The small motel looks like any other from the outside. Maybe a little bit nicer than some you would pass on the highway. It's set back from the world hidden in the woods. It's advertised as a hidden hideaway for lovers but if anyone calls the number on the sign it's always fully booked. Each room has the softest cotton sheets, some have mirrored ceilings, others have restraints built into the wall, some have poles to dance around. One room, an old windowless supply room, has a full rack that people can be tied to, right behind the sex swing.

The advertising is half right. Except it's more like a hotel for people looking for lovers. There is a special number connected as well as the commercial one. A number that only a few knew by word of mouth but it soon spread. You call the number to leave your details. A contact number and what fantasy you want to live. 

You want a handsome cowboy to flirty his way into your heart and between your legs? He's stabled in room twelve. 

You need a daring pilot to take you higher? Room five. 

A little romance, TLC and gentle hands? You're in luck. Rooms eight, ten and fourteen are happy to help. 

Fourteen also provides a rougher hand. The duality of him is as much a mystery as his face that he covers with a simple black mask. 

Seven comes with additional warnings. Even with those, the women who stumble out of there are never really ready for him. There's just something about him that makes them feral. 

Six is the same. The theory is that it's his ability to be so dark and brooding but hold so much gentleness in those big brown, soulful eyes. It's simply magnetic.

When they both have company you worry for the wall separating them as the beds slam into it. 

Two was given a fitting room number as he is more than happy to take two at a time or more. He still manages to satisfy everyone. And still go looking for more company in the night. Speaking of…

Twenty five had to be given a room at the other end of the motel as people in nearby rooms were getting high off of his supply. Six makes sure that a little weed is the only drug that he has. 

Nine mans the phone line. His way with words eased the jitters of anyone calling up. He occasionally indulges those who ask for him specially. His voice entices them. The loss of his arm is still so recent that he's having trouble adjusting to being physically intimate without it, yet not one complaint has been made about his performance.

Room one is saved for the boss. He doesn't work as much as the others. He's far too busy with his family. Any requests for him have to be negotiated with his fiancé, she knows exactly what he is worth.

[roseofdarknessblog]

Enemies to Enemies (Colt Grice x Reader + the Warriors)

I was battling a pretty bad writer's block once again... why do they happen so often lately? But anyways, I managed to come up with something. So here, enjoy some silly moments with our lovely Warriors.

♡ @chaotic-on-main ♡

„Are you sure this is a good idea?“ Colt asked, handing you a bottle of vine, while you were adjusting the roses in the wase for like the millionth time. Every detail had to be perfect. Otherwise, all of this would simply go to waste. „I think you’ll just make the whole thing worse.“

„Oh, please. What could be worse than their constant bickering? I’m getting tired of them both, but mostly Galliard.“

„Want me to remind you something?“ he teased you.

You furrowed your brows. „No, don’t! Otherwise, I’ll tell Zeke about how you lost his favorite baseball bat,“ you threatened the blond boy, adjusting the nicely polished cutlery before taking a step back to look at the table as a whole.

Everything looked even more perfect than you previously envisioned. Yes, it was a dumb idea and a complete waste of money and time, but... hey, miracles sometimes do happen, right?

„I didn’t lose it,“ Colt mumbled under his breath, averting his gaze.

„Then where is it?“ Zeke’s missing baseball bat was all the smoke between the Warriors for the last couple of days. Everyone knew about it. Well, except for Zeke.

„In the sewer.“

For a second you thought you hear him wrong. „Excuse me... what?“

„I have nothing to do with it!“ he exclaimed immediately, while his cheeks started to get a little red. „Ask Gabi and Falco. I’m sure they’ll be more than excited to tell you. At least Gabi, Falco is scared to even look at Zeke since then.“

„That’s why he’s avoiding him, now it makes sense. Or... no, it doesn’t but who cares?“ You waved your hand at him, hugged his right arm, and dragged him to stand next to you. „So, what do you think? Do we need anything else?“

The little round table in your family’s garden looked perfect. A white tablecloth, two lit candles, vine glasses and vine, plates, cutlery, and even some pink and purple confetti you had left from the time you were in charge of organizing a birthday party for Zofia earlier that year. If somebody looked at this arrangement, a romantic dinner would be the first thing to come to their mind.

But surely not a dinner for two people who couldn’t stand each other. Or at least one of them had to constantly bully the other one.

„I still think it’s a stupid idea and I really don’t know why I’m even helping you.“

„Because you love me,“ you said and kissed his cheek.

The very special „romantic“ dinner the two of you planned, was meant for Porco and Reiner. It was you, who came up with the idea, because getting shot at the nearest battlefield started to sound more appealing than listening to their constant stupid fights and taunts. While Reiner was the one, who held back most of the time and never started a fight first, Porco looked for an opportunity every chance he got. Yes, he had his reasons, you understood that, but if nobody did anything, those two would end up arguing right during your next military operation.

Good thing neither of their Titans could talk.

„Now... did you tell them to be here at seven?“ you asked, leaning your head against his shoulder.

„Yep.“

„Okay, so I guess we’ll just wait for them.“

Colt nodded, looking at you skeptically. He had every right to worry about how this evening would play out. But he surely didn’t think about Zofia and Udo rushing over and hurry both of you over to his house, because Falco and Gabi got stuck down in the sewer while they were trying to retrieve Zeke’s baseball bat.

At first, you wanted to stay at your place and wait for Reiner and Porco, but when you saw the panic on Colt’s face, you joined them.

When you arrived at the place, the guards from the Internment zone gate, who the kids befriended fairly easily, were already there, laughing their asses off, while Gabi was screaming at them angrily from down below. The two of them got stuck there after half of the old rusty ladder, they used to climb down, simply fell off and the remaining part was too high for them to reach.

„Are you sure you got it?“ you asked Colt, while he was throwing them a rope and was about to climb down to grab that stupid bat from Gabi, before helping them both up.

He mumbled something about not needing you to watch his every step, while he simultaneously cursed his little brother and Reiner’s cousin. Maybe that’s why he almost fell down as well when another step from the ladder broke off. All in all, it took you almost half an hour, until the incident was over.

Only then you realized, that your little rescue mission became an interesting comedy for some of the Eldian people passing by or looking out the windows of their homes. The only one, who was happy about it, was Gabi. She grabbed the baseball bat again, hoisted it into the air, and then bowed for everyone as if she just finished a theatre performance.

She and Falco smelled more than horribly but were still in a better condition than Zeke’s bat. Returning it to him in this condition would equal a war crime.

„I still want to hear how that bat got down to the sewer, alright?“ you asked Gabi, while all of you made your way back to your house. They both needed a shower and a set of fresh clothes Zofia and Udo agreed to borrow them. It was better than letting them go home in such a horrible state. This way the parents didn’t need to know anything. „I’m sure it’s a very interesting story.“

„Definitely!“ she shouted in excitement and started walking backward, just to look right at you, while she started talking again. However, she was cut short, when you arrived at your house. Going around, you peeked over the fence into the garden, almost forgetting how to breathe for a second.

„Look!“ you said to Colt excitedly and smiled so wide, your cheeks started hurting.

Right there, at the table, you so nicely set up sat Reiner and Porco. They were talking about something, while their vine glasses were half empty. If you didn’t know better, you would say this was truly a typical romantic dinner.

„I knew it! I knew it would work and you didn’t believe me!“ you teased Colt, jumping a little with joy. Only that your joy was short-lived, when you looked over at the boys again, as you heard a quiet sob and a roar of laughter right afterward.

„Ehm... are you sure they’re having the time of their life?“ Colt asked, trying to suppress a smile. Right next to him, the Warrior candidates were complaining that the fence was too high and they didn’t see anything. „Because I think Reiner...“

Only when you looked really closely, you saw the truth. While Porco was grinning and drinking the vine with a very satisfied look, Reiner was shaking his head and wiping away tears, while probably contemplating every single decision of his life, which lead him there.

And no, it really didn't help when he noticed you and Colt peering from behind the fence with apologetic looks on your faces. Embarrassed and probably red even behind your ears, you waved at him.

„Do you think serving the food we prepared for them would help?“ you asked Colt in a hushed voice, still waving at Reiner and now Porco as well.

„About that... I guess I forgot to turn the oven on when you told me. Otherwise, your house would be already a pile of ash, since we rushed off without thinking about anything else.“

„Oh...“

There really didn’t seem to be a way to save the whole night. Definitely not, when you suddenly heard Zeke’s voice from behind you. While he was walking up the street to your house with Pieck by his side, and already shouting something to both you and Colt, Zofia quickly pushed Gabi and Falco into the nearby bushes, hiding the baseball bat there as well.

It was better not to try your luck anymore.

[frickingnerd]

you're harder to forget than to leave

pairing: gray x gn!reader

summary: gray finally confesses to you, just as you're about to go out with tobin...

"wait!"

gray's voice and footsteps echoed through the halls of zofia castle, as he rushed towards you. by the time that you had turned around, he had already reached you, stopping in front of you, as he tried to catch his breath. 

"don't go…"

you already knew what he meant. you had told gray last night that tobin had asked you out after the deliverance had freed the castle and that you weren't sure if you should accept. gray had encouraged you to go out with tobin, though it seemed like he had now changed his mind. 

"but you were the one telling me that i should accept. you said…"

"i know, i said you should go out with him and that i hoped you'd be happy with him. and maybe i meant it at that time, but i changed my mind!"

gray stood up straight again, looking you deep in the eyes, as he slowly closed the gap between the two of you. 

"i don't want you to go out with him! i love you, y/n! i've been too much of a coward to say it last night, but i love you and i want to be the one you're with! not tobin, nor anyone else…"

gray looked at you with so much fondness, gently holding you close, that it was impossible to say no. not like you had ever wanted to turn him down in the first place…

"i love you too… last night i was hoping that you'd tell me not to go, but when you encouraged me, i thought you didn't feel the same…"

gray's hand wandered up to your face, gently caressing your cheeks. 

"i'm sorry i didn't say it sooner. but i promise that i'll say it much more often from now on, so you'll never forget how much you mean to me…!"

[mikasa-imadebiscults]

Please read these rules before making a request

- I’ll write the reader as any gender

- Angst, fluff, comfort, SFW, NSFW, Modern AU’s, and crossovers.

- Headcannons, scenarios/imagines, and SFW & NSFW alphabet.

- Mental Health, serious/sensitive topics, blood and gore.

- LGBTQ+ topics (like poly relationships and etc)

- Character x Character (depending on what ship it is)

- Match up’s (When requesting a match up say that you want a match up and describe yourself. For example describe your personality, what you like and don’t like, if you want a adult character or not, etc) [MATCH UPS CURRENTLY CLOSED]

- Demon Slayer, My Hero Academia, Attack on Titan, Jujutsu Kaisen, Resident Lover, and Resident Evil Village.

- For JJK I’ll only write for: Maki, Megumi, Yuji, and Gojo. Keep in mind, I know very little about the manga and storyline.

- For Resident Lover I’ll only write for: Donna, Bela, Cassandra, Daniela, and Angie.

- For Resident Evil Village I’ll only write for: Donna Beneviento and Alcina Dimitrescu.

- Incest/Stepcest

- Character x OC

- Religion

- Male x Male smut and Male reader smut

⚠️DISCLAIMER⚠️

If you request a character that is a minor I will NOT write NSFW about them.

Any NSFW about AOT characters like Mikasa, Jean, Eren, etc I’ll write them in season 4 bc in season 4 they’re an adult.

I have the right to deny any requests, if I denied your request it’s either because I didn’t know how to write it or it broke one of the rules. So please don’t take it personally my friend.

I’m a human being, I have a life outside of social media so do not rush me on making you request.

Every post will have a warning at the top in bold so don’t worry :)

Characters I won’t write for:

In KNY: Genya, Daki, Gyutaro, Gyokko, Sabito, Makomo, Enmu, Rui, Kaigaku, Sekido, Aizetsu, Karaku, Urogi, and Zohakuten.

In MHA: Mirio, Eri, Kota, Koda, Shoji, Sato, and Spinner.

In AOT: Floch, Gabi, Falco, Zofia, Udo, Marco, and Ymir Fritz.

How to request:

You can DM me or ask me requests but tell me if you want to be anonymous or not if you DM me.

(Request Status: Open!!)

[rainbowsixxreader]

Can i get a zofia finding reader and her daughter cuddling on couch asleep? Plz i need it for scientific reasons

Zofia’s shoulder cracked as her duffel bag dropped onto the ground beside the door, she was tired and bruised, cut up from a blast on the mission. Another long week away from her family, more injuries to show for it. The woman rubbed her shoulder as she walked through the hallway of the apartment, it was late, she instantly assumed that her daughter was asleep, and that you were probably asleep too. The woman brushed her fingers through her short hair, she was so tense, maybe she was just tired, ready to bed. She stepped into the dimly lit living room kitchen area, her eyebrows furrowing, it was rare you left the lights on before going to bed.

“(Y/n)?” Zofia spoke in a hushed whisper as she looked for you around the small area. The couch was her last resort, she rounded into the living room, stopping a few feet away from the front of the couch. There you were, curled up with your back pressed tightly against the back of the black plush couch. Zofia’s daughter was asleep against you, curled into the tiny ball she always managed to fall asleep in. Your arm was lazily thrown over the small girl, keeping her secure on the couch. 

Zofia found a smile spreading onto her face and she cautiously grabbed the blanket off the back of the couch. The brunette set the blanket over the two of you, gently smoothing it out not to wake either. “Sleep well, my little loves.” Zofia whispered, pressing a kiss to her daughter’s forehead and then your forehead. “Zof?” You were so groggy as you struggled to open your eyes. “I didn’t mean to wake you, kochanie. Go back to sleep.” Zofia dragged her knuckles softly across your cheek. “Mm.. I love you..” Your eyes fluttered shut, your quiet snores soon resuming. “And I you.” Zofia stood straight, her wide smile was back now. 

[noodlesfics]

Would the Warriors/Warrior Candidates love you as a worm?

A/N~The Warrior Candidates are obviously platonic ❤

Zeke

He's smart but is super confused about your question. It's not one of the weirdest things he's heard but it's definitely up there. He's just like, what why would you ask that? Has mixed feelings about whether or not he would love you as a worm. He loves you the way you are, so he's definitely swaying more to the no side.

Pieck

Gosh Y/n of course she would! She would 100% crawl around on the floor with you. Makes a bed out of an empty match box for you so you can sleep together. She says she would show you off to all her friends and even let some of them hold you. She'd love you as a little worm! Definitely protective but is quite laid back with it when you would be around her friends.

Porco

Fuck no! Y/n get that thought out of your head that he would love you as a worm! He feels like he's going to throw up just thinking about it. Seriously though, did you really think he would love you as this disgusting little creature!? He straight up says no but he's curious if you would live him if he was a worm. When you say no he gets mad and says it's disrespectful towards him.

Colt

Huh? What? Asks you why you would ask that but immediately says he would love you! He tells you that he would keep you safe and let the candidates keep you company when he's not there. He doesn't think anywhere is safe for you if you turn into a worm! Gets a bit emotional thinking about you getting injured when he's not around.

Falco

Your his best friend! Of course he would love you as a little worm! With both of you being in a dangerous environment more often than not, he gets generally scared for your life and wellbeing. He comes around to the fact that this can't happen but he gets very clingy to you after that.

Gabi

That's gross. Your one of her best friends but she wouldn't love you as much if you were a worm. Says she would get way more protective over you and make sure no one lays a single finger on you apart from her. Even though she would find it disturbing, she would still care for you but not on the same level if you were human.

Zofia

A bit shy but admits she would love you just the same! As one if her closest friends she needs to make sure that you are safe and comfortable. Asks Pieck to help make little dresses for you and small blankets to keep your little worm body warm during the winter. Admits she would carry you around and offer you food she gets from the market.

Udo

What? Bless him, he's extremely confused! However he does get a small plan set up just in case. He gets scared at the thought of losing one of his friends and keeps you safe to the best of his abilities from then on. Reassures you that he would love you even more as a friend and that it's his sworn duty to protect you!

[mazuwii]

Fatality ||Reiner X Reader||

Hey guys! I promise I am not ignoring any requests, I just had a fun idea for a Reiner one shot, and here it is

I’ll get round to writing the headcannons you request, but right now it’s night and I have to get up early tomorrow, I’ll see you around in a few hours

Genre: comfort

Characters: Reiner x Reader

No warnings! Just fluff and fluff and fluff :) and it’s unedited sorry.

Ring ring

You jogged to the door, too scared to leave the chaotic kids alone even for two seconds. The doorbell continued to ring, signifying the impatience of a certain boy. This was certainly him.

"I'm coming! Shut up already!" The brown door of you and your husbands house opened to the two engaged lovers.

"About time, do you know how cold it is out here?!" Porco walked past you, rambling on like a drama queen. Meanwhile Pieck smiled at you and stepped in with an audible shiver.

"Sorry about the inconvenience you guys." You said while hastily putting your coat on. You could hear the loud children laughing, most likely at Falco.

"Don't worry Y/n, we don't mind"-

"I do, we were watching The Lion King!" Porco grunted childishly. You rolled your eyes as you clumsily did your shoes up. "We have that DVD, it's on the bookshelf but the kids are playing with the XBOX right now so you'll have to negotiate with them." Finally you finished tying both the laces

Grabbing the car keys from the shelf, you sighed a well deserved breath. "There are apples in the kitchen but I didn't cut them yet, make sure Gabi doesn't have any sugar she gets violent during sugar rushes, Udo and Zofia are harmless but"-

"Y/n!" Pieck grabbed your shoulders to snap you out of it, "We'll be fine, go get Reiner, if anything goes wrong, I'll text you."

"I... fine." you grumbled, noticing Porco had already left Pieck's side and most likely joined the kids to play. "I won't be long." You reminded before leaving, clicking the switch and entering your freezing car.

Although it was a sunny day, the temperature disagreed, dropping down to a level no one was used to after just a week of September. Because of this, you turned the heating on, not wanting Reiner to be cold when you collect him either.

He had been seeing a therapist after all the chaos ended, the war, the rumbling, even the alliance, everything had calmed down. An attack was not likely during these times.

You were glad, he had visibly become better. Sure there were times where he was not mentally available but you stood by his side through thick and thin.

When you had arrived for the spot, you looked around through the other window, not bothering to gaze at the front or the one next to you.

The front of the building was completely empty, with only a few staff walking in. You sat back down in your seat to call Reiner, until you realised the light from your window was dim.

Slowly, you turned your head, only to flinch with a shriek. There he was, his nose pressed against the window with a puppy smile that he probably thought was scary.

You tapped your finger against the glass and tutted, motioning to the passenger seat with a twitch of your head.

He removed his face and giggled, his eyes shutting in the shape of crescents. You melted at the sight, he doesn't usually smile like that, the smile in which you can visibly see his inner child that never got to live its era.

Once he opened the door, he held your face and brought his lips to yours for a short peck, or so you thought, until he began kissing it over and over again.. "Reiner!" You laughed, cupping his face to hold him away for a few seconds.

"Y/n, why'd you push me away?" He whined, keeping your palms stuck to his cheeks with a stern grip.

"Because we have to get back home before Porco and the kids turn the house into no mans land."

"Ehhh, I'm sure he'll handle it." Reiner said, reaching over to do his seatbelt but abruptly letting go of it before he could buckle it, "Oh yeah, I have some good news~" He sung.

You switched the car off to prepare yourself, turning to him with anticipation. Although you didn't know what the news was, you hoped- you needed him to heal. Those days of misery was heart wrenching for you to watch, to not be able to do anything.

"I'm not sure but, I think...” He whispered reluctantly, “I don't want to jinx it but... I think I've healed." You gulped down a heavy knot in your throat, mouth agape with none of the overwhelming gratitude coming out.

"Oh Reiner..." you felt your eyes sting, filling up to the brim with tears, blurring your vision.

"Dove? Are you crying?" His warm hand went to your arm, giving it a gentle squeeze.

However, when you tried responding with real words, all that came out was a sob. His eyebrows softened, enveloping you in his warmth. Your cheek rested on his chest, inhaling a lungful of his smokey vanilla scent in before your nose clogs up. "Sorry, I-I'm just happy for you is all." You sniffled and weakly held onto his waist, carressing the fabric of his hoodie.

"Thanks to you, I really appreciate it dove. For not getting tired of me and pushing me foward." He leaned down to kiss your head, squeezing you tighter. "Really, I love you."

You wiped your eyes and sighed shakily. "I love you more."

Driving home had never felt lighter. After sessions Reiner usually feels down, as if there was a heavy weight on his shoulder, that constantly made you wonder if his treatment had done him more bad than good. You’d never go into heavy detail about it, instead you’d make his day easier, in hopes that those negative thoughts would stay clear of him.

But today, you could feel an uncontrollable smile etching at the corners of your lips, never leaving your face. While you asked how his day was, he’d give you funny replies, adding jokes in unexpected parts of the conversation in hopes of making you laugh.

At last, you arrived in front of the house. “Well at least it hasn’t blown up yet, I’ll give them that.” You mumbled, locking the car after you heard Reiner shut the door.

“I wouldn’t be too excited if I were you.”

You agreed with him and animatedly opened the door, making sure they’d hear you. “We’re home.” You called, taking your jacket off and hanging it. “Y/n!! Help me!!!” You heard a male shriek from the living room. Damn it what was Porco up to now?

“What did you guys do while I was gone- ah!” A hand yanked you behind the couch, forcing a toy gun in your hand. “Where’s Braun?! I’ve been waiting for you two for what seems like centuries!”

“He’s just there…” you pointed to the living room door being opened slowly, Porco’s eyes widened to a dangerous level, as if he witnessed a ghost. “BRAUN BEHIND HERE! TAKE COVER!”

Before you knew it, hard sponge bullets shot aimlessly towards the couch that Porco pulled you both behind. Reiner seemed as confused as you were. “Those little bastards started a war with me… four of them against Pieck and I, but Pieck went to slice the apples!” He angrily gritted his teeth, unsurprisingly taking the game too seriously.

“And that’s exactly why you’re on my team now. Don’t let me down comrades.”

Just as you were about to open your mouth, it was too late, he handed both you and Reiner bullets and plastic guns. “Don’t waste the amo, the enemy may waste bullets but their targeting and amazing range is no joke.”

“I- Porco aren’t you taking this too seriously?-“

“Y/N DUCK!” Reiner pushed you away from the edge, guarding you from a bullet that bounced off the walls and hit his ankle. “Ahhh!”

“Coordinate Braun!” Porco wailed, “Y/n! What are you doing!? We have an injured soldier! Don’t stand around and sneak to enemy baselines!”

“I-“

“THAT IS AN ORDER!”

“No sir…” Reiner faked a dying voice, dramatically leaning his torso against the couch as if he were bleeding to death, “I will go, let my death not be in vain…”

“Coordinate Braun…” Porco said in between tears. You watched in shock, he was actually tearing up?!

“I salute you soldier! Go for it!” The blonde nodded at Porco, rolling off behind the table where none of the kids were or dared to go.

“You! Y/n! Be useful and watch over Braun, those brats have got it coming.”

Here you were, pretending to be a sniper holding a pink gun loaded with purple bullets. How did you get here?

“SURRENDER!” Porco yelled, shooting the ceiling with his fake pistol as if to scare them. He took a peek above the couch, quickly regretting it when a swarm of bullets hit the ceiling near you both, “Never!”

Suddenly, Udo popped out from under the opposite couch, aiming at the table. “You have messed with the wrong people! You failure of a war chief!” He cried out, continuously darting bullets at Reiner, whom was so close to their base.

“NO!” You and Porco shrieked, “BRAUN!” “REINER!”

Yet it was too late, he was limp on his back, his palm clammy and motionless by his side. “You… YOU HOOLIGANS! THAT WAS MY BEST SOLDIER!” Like a maniac, Porco rushed out into the battlefield which was the mat. Thankfully the enemies had run out of bullets so all they could do was scream and run away in aimless circles.

Meanwhile you crawled to your husband, shaking him with a pretend weep. “Reiner! Reiner wake up! This isn’t over yet!” You lifted him on your lap, patting his cheek all while holding in a laugh at the fake dying expression he made. He looked like a horse on the verge of an orgasm “Take care… of Tootsie… our child…”

At that point you couldn’t hold it in, the both of you burst out in hysterical laughs, you couldn’t tell what was worse, his fake death or his fake hoarse voice.

“Victory! Is MINEEEEE!” The both of you stopped giggling at the sound of Porco’s manic yell, snapping around to witness him taunting the kids, shooting them with the fake machine gun and reloading every second like some robotic maniac.

“WE’RE SORRY! STOP! WE APOLOGISED! MISS PIECKK! REINERRR! Y/N HELP!” Gabi wailed in her high pitched voice, hurting your ears. The small coward hid behind Zofia, who clearly had no interest in protecting anyone but herself as she yanked the brunette off and sprinted away with Udo.

“Sorry…” you smirked, still holding Reiner even if he was peering over your shoulder like a curious baby, “but you killed my husband.” You took the gun from your side and aimed, the sponge bullet flying directly into Gabi’s forehead.

With an ‘oof’ she fell back and grunted, “UDO KILLED HIM NOT ME!!” she retaliated

“YOU’RE ON HIS SIDE EITHER WAY!” You fought back, laughing evilly with Reiner.

Just when you were about to drag his body behind a defence, a bullet hit your back, causing your head to jolt up and back to arch in a moment of pretend agony. You twitched before falling across Reiner, hearing his muffled “NOOOOO!”

You barely restrained your laughter as he picked your body up and shook you like you were a rag doll, begging you to open your eyes in between suppressed giggles.

“We win.” With one last shot, you heard a thud. Porco was down. And the killer, was Falco. “Don’t ever think about hurting Gabi again.”

“Ew Falco.”

Gabi’s distant comment on her best friend was the last straw before everyone lost their composure, getting up from their fake death positions to wheeze their lungs out. The entire room was nothing but a mixture of everyone’s laughs.

“Sorry little man.” You got up to ruffle his hair. “Some day , Falco, some day.” Reiner added with a wipe of his tear.

“Guys, I finished the apple slices- oh…” Pieck’s expression flipped into confusion when she witnessed the bullet drowned room, guns across the floor and Porco’s messed up hair, flopping down to his jawline like a sassy model.

[theragethatisdesire]

much ado about nothing chapter 6 - plug!eren x reader - 18+!!!

DISCLAIMER: this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. minors and ageless blogs, please do not read below the cut.

ummmmm HIII so sorry i know i still owe you guys a million drabbles and i haven't been posting as much but this chapter is just chock-full of drama and i'm so excited to share it bc hehehe it's a rollercoaster. also we should def stop listening to sasha. sneaky posting; have fun babies!!!! i cannot WAIT to hear your thoughts

specific cws: alcohol use, violence (like fist-fighting level not insane), mentions of drugs, swearing, incredibly awkward tension lol

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“The course of true love never did run smooth.” A Midsummer Night’s Dream by William Shakespeare (Act I, Scene 1)

You’ve done a lot of partying in your days, but you never thought a hangover could float over your shoulders for damn near two weeks. Then again, maybe that rancid taste in your mouth is regret instead of the practical gallons of liquor you’d guzzled that night.

Historia tells you to delete the evidence, have a glass of wine with your friends, focus on your studies, put meaning back into the happy distractions that make up life. Sasha tells you to suck it up, download Tinder, do something other than wallow in your bed with nothing on but the fairy lights along your ceiling. Ymir tells you men aren’t worth embarrassing yourself for, maybe start swinging the other way, that she knows a few very pretty single ladies.

You meet all of their advice with a slow nod, sometimes a chuckle, put your head down, and go about your business, letting the shame follow you around like a little rain cloud from building to building around campus. Even your students have noticed something’s making you tick; Falco and Gabi left a package of Crumbl cookies in your office the other day, and for the first time, Zofia has begun to raise her hand in class. It’s heartwarming, really, but it doesn’t solve your problem.

Problems would be the better term for it. To start, there was your royal fuck-up with Eren. You had over-indulged and gotten a little too flirty to be “friends”, sure, it happens, but something had snapped in you when you saw Eren with that leggy blonde hanging all over him at the club.

Breeze. Even wearing naught but a skirt and some thin tights with the early winter wind whipping around your legs, just the thought of her name makes your blood boil. She was perfect, all bouncy and easygoing and cool, hippie clothes. To be fair, she was the one with the true claim on Eren; you had dug your own grave, far too confident in your ability to be just friends with someone so…so Eren.

Your friendship had been growing closer and closer by the passing day before that night, texting at nearly every minute of the day and spending time together wherever you could fit it in your full schedule. You had made plans to bake Christmas cookies together, even despite Eren’s protests that Christmas was a “capitalistic hellhole of a holiday season”, had acted out your favorite Shakespeare scenes in your pajamas, much to Eren’s amusement, and had made a habit of staying up late into the night watching and rewatching your favorite animes, heatedly debating characters. It had been butterfly-inducing, dizzying, perfect. Until you had indulged in one too many shots and humiliated yourself, that is.

Seeing Breeze all over Eren had made you realize the severity of your mistake trying to keep Eren in your life, realize the warm feeling blooming in your chest every time he grinned at you, all teeth and his little chin dimple, was decidedly much more than a platonic appreciation for a new friend. It turned out that you’d been right from the start; you weren’t his type, and to make matters worse, his actual taste in women had been thrust in your face unexpectedly.

When you had awoken the next morning, debating on whether to fall back asleep immediately or dash to the toilet, Historia had greeted you with a sorry smile, a cup of coffee, and a quiet word of advice to look through your phone. Knowing your drunken self, you pulled up your phone calls first, wanting to make sure you hadn’t accidentally Facetimed your mom to tell her how much fun you were having or something cringe-worthy of the sort. But no, of course it had to be much worse than that.

There was a phone call– to Eren. Your call log had recorded a one minute and thirty-six second phone call between you and Eren, one you obviously didn’t remember making.

“Please tell me you were with me when I called Eren,” you groan, so naive, “did I completely embarrass myself?”

Historia blushes. “Well, he didn’t answer, if it’s any consolation–”

“Oh, thank god–”

“But that didn’t exactly stop you,” Historia fiddles with the edge of her t-shirt, “you left him a voicemail.”

Even through your throbbing headache, you shoot right up out of bed at that. “What?! What did I say?”

“I don’t know,” Historia moans woefully, putting her hands over her face, “I’m sorry, I tried to stop you, but you ran off as soon as you started talking. By the time I caught up to you, you were already hanging up.”

“So, there’s a voicemail from drunk me on Eren’s phone, and neither of us have any idea what it says?”

“Correct.”

“My life fucking sucks.”

“It’s about to get a whole lot worse,” Historia says, throwing your sheets back and snuggling beside you in the bed, burrowing her face in your shoulder, “check your texts.”

And oh, had it gotten worse. Your drunken, foolish text sat in your outbox, unanswered, unread, and inexcusable. Six months later and you were right back where you started, begging a ghost of a man to explain why he couldn’t love you.

> hi luke, i’m sorta ficked up, but i misz you. why did yoi never call me???? you owe me at leasttg that. a fcking explanation,. 

Storming through campus, coat tucked around your shoulders against the biting chill, you wince at the memory. You haven’t deleted the unanswered text yet, keeping it stale in your phone as a reminder of what happens when you get too attached to people you know aren’t good for you.

You thought you’d be more heartbroken over the text to Luke and its lack of an answer, but surprisingly, you’re not. It’s Eren haunting your thoughts, Luke’s just the placeholder for all of your anger at this point. Eren isn’t to blame for all of this, you are, and that’s why you can’t bring yourself to face him, can’t bring yourself to answer any of the hesitant texts he’s sent you since that god-awful night.

You’re not in college anymore, you have to keep reminding yourself. You’re twenty-four, and you’d like to think you’re past the phase of your life where you’re handing your heart out to anyone that passes like it’s a Costco sample. You aren’t even sure if you want Luke anymore at this point, if you could even speak to him if you bumped into him these days. He had, admittedly, treated you like dirt, wrenched your heart out from your chest and left it on the sidewalk to collect dust. At least you can hate him, hate what he did to you, hate that you’re stuck on him like a broken record skipping to the same chorus every few weeks.

You can’t hate Eren, though. You can be disappointed in him for entertaining his terrible ex-girlfriend, not aloud of course because he hadn’t actually mentioned her to you himself, but you can do it internally. Even that isn’t enough to make you feel better; not only had he not trusted you, not felt safe or comfortable enough with you to share the skeletons in his closet, but he was likely zooming full-speed down a dead-end street, the way Sasha tells the story. Your heart aches for him out of a painful mixture of pining and fervent concern.

Your only solution so far has been to dive headfirst into your coursework and your students; it hasn’t done much to distract you, but with finals on the horizon, it’s not the worst method of coping you’ve come up with in your days.

Your newly invigorated dedication to your work and your courses are the cause of you dragging yourself across campus to 104, desperate for caffeine and practically a corpse after two weeks of near-constant self-shaming keeping you up at night.

The smell of the coffee shop, earthy and warm, hits you almost as hard as the blasting heat inside, and you practically slouch upon entering, the weight of the cozy atmosphere cocooning you like a warm blanket. If there’s one place that will always feel like a hug, it’s 104 Beans, your coffee shop of choice (and obligation, considering the small size of your campus) for the last six years.

Pieck, your favorite barista, greets you in her typical dreamy manner. “Hi love, same as usual?”

“Hey Pieck,” you greet her with a weary smile. As you dig around in your bag for your wallet, the extent of your exhaustion versus the amount of work you have left to do surfaces in your brain. “Actually…no, not my usual. Can I get a quad shot Americano?”

Pieck pauses where she’s scribbling onto a paper cup with a Sharpie, eyes flitting back up to you in disbelief. “A quad shot Americano?”

“A quad shot Americano.”

“Jesus,” Pieck sighs, eyes wide, “work’s that rough, huh? Black coffee not going to cut it?”

“The shakes will be worth it,” you confirm, swiping your card through the machine.

“Can I please make it a cappuccino then? You’re going to need something creamy to get all that espresso down,” Pieck looks back up at you, eyes pleading.

“Fine,” you sigh, “but–”

“Almond milk, I know,” Pieck winks at you, sliding your cup down the assembly line of baristas working amongst the hissing of the espresso machine and the pleasant, folky music floating from the speakers. “We’re a little busy, so give me five and I’ll bring it over to you.”

You smile gratefully and collect your things, turning to scout out what’s hopefully a quiet table in the corner, when a pair of arms tossed around your shoulders stops you. The familiar scent of fruity perfume tickles your nose, and you slump against the tight grip in relief.

“You made it out of the house!” Sasha’s eyes glow with pride, as if you’d just run a marathon.

“It’s not like I’m a hermit,” you roll your eyes, “I have class five days a week.”

“You don’t go anywhere besides class or your house though, so you still get participation points,” Sasha grins, shaking your shoulders, “how are you feeling?”

“Well…”

Sasha’s expression crumples. “Still that bad, huh?”

“The Luke thing was pathetic of me, but honestly, it’s not haunting me as much as I thought it would,” you admit, pausing for a moment to allow Sasha to grab her coffee from the barista when her name is called, “the one thing that’s really sticking with me is the Eren issue.”

“Like, the voicemail? Or Breeze?”

“Both. I would give anything to know what that voicemail said, but whatever was going on between us aside, I just hope he’s okay, y’know? With Breeze back in the picture and everything.”

Sasha bites into her bottom lip and glances around the coffee shop, checking every face at every table. You know that face; she’s hiding something.

“What?”

“What?” Sasha cocks her head innocently. You nearly smack her.

“You’re not telling me something.”

“Uh…okay, yeah, I’m not, but I’m not sure if I should. I mean, you’re actually out of the house–”

“I leave my house plenty!”

“You know what I mean,” Sasha scoffs, “it’s just…if you’re feeling better, I don’t want to throw you back into the deep end.”

You have no words for that, absolutely despising the way that she is completely correct. Whatever information lies behind Sasha’s bitten lip could either make you feel a hundred times better or a hundred times worse, and you’re stuck debating on whether you should gamble or not when Sasha makes the decision for you.

 “Fine, you wore me down,” she sighs.

“I didn’t even say anything,” you point out, raising an eyebrow.

“You don’t have to,” Sasha says, annoyed, “you have this, like, fucking puppy dog look. Makes me sick. Get your coffee, I’ll find a table, and we can talk.”

Like clockwork, the moment Sasha steps away, Pieck grabs your attention and hands your coffee over along with an extra hot cup half-full of steamed almond milk. You look at her questioningly, and she merely shrugs.

“That’s a lot of espresso. I know you’re in, like, your depressed writer phase right now, but I figured a little extra milk would come in handy.”

“You’re the best,” you smile at her affectionately, thinking absentmindedly that you should invite her out to Scout’s sometime. Before she can respond, Pieck’s gaze lands on something just over your shoulder. You can smell him even before you turn around, musky cologne and a little hint of weed. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

“Hey Pieck. Usual?” His throaty timbre cuts through the thick air, sharp as a knife. Pieck nods politely and gets to work on his coffee, forgoing a trip to the cash register. That tracks; Pieck’s hooded eyes are bloodshot more often than not.

“Excuse me,” you mutter, trying to sneak around him, but Eren’s quicker than you, side-stepping to cut you off.

“Hey stranger,” he smiles down at you, but it’s tense, nervous, “trying to run off on me?”

“Didn’t even realize that was you, sorry,” you lie, offering him a thin smile in return. You spot Sasha gaping at you across the cafe, waving her arms wildly and mouthing What the fuck?. You can’t help but feel similarly.

“It’s been awhile, how are you?”

“M’fine, just really busy with school.” God, you hate this, this awkward small talk barely parsing its way through the jungle of things left unsaid between you two. “You?”

“Fine,” Eren looks around awkwardly, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Good,” you speak directly into your coffee, unable to stomach the emerald green peering down at you.

“You know,” Eren’s words come out quite like he can’t believe he’s saying them, “I kinda thought you were avoiding me.”

“Did you?” Your voice is caught in your throat, coming out in a pathetic squeak. Has he heard the voicemail? The startling turn the conversation’s taken must be visible all over your face, because Sasha’s flailing arms beckoning you over to the table grow more urgent.

“You haven’t texted me back, haven’t seen you in a couple weeks,” Eren’s incredibly focused on his shoes, kicking one Vans sneaker idly back and forth on the floor and making a squeaking sound, “so yeah, sort of.”

“I’m busy,” you deadpan, praying to any god you can remember the name of that you’ll just disintegrate right where you stand. Eren meets your eyes again, smirks disbelievingly.

“You said that.”

Something in his tone annoys you, something about his insinuation that he knows you’re blatantly lying, that he’s teasing you over your embarrassment, ignites a little flame in your chest. You scowl at him.

“I mean, you must be pretty busy too.”

“Why’s that?”

“Breeze just got back into town, didn’t she?” No going back now. Eren’s face blanches for a moment, features growing pale, but he manages to school his face back into that nonchalant pout that you want to slap right off his face.

“Historia told you?” He doesn’t sound surprised; in face, he sounds almost expectant, like he knew you’d find out at some point. It stakes the embers burning in your chest.

“She’s my best friend, so yeah.” This feels like an argument. It shouldn’t be an argument, but your clipped tone is pushing it in that direction. You’ve spent the last two weeks reminding yourself that you have no claim on Eren, no reason to be hurt or upset, but here you are, feeling that familiar rush of anger coursing through your veins.

“I mean, we haven’t been hanging out or anything, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Who said I was worried?”

Eren’s eyebrows knit together, a little frown playing at his mouth. “I don’t know, I mean–”

“Look, Sasha’s waiting for me,” you point over Eren’s shoulder to the little two-top table, where Sasha has stilled within the blink of an eye, shooting Eren an innocent smile and a little wave. “I’d love to catch up, but maybe another time.”

“It was good seeing you.” Eren looks confused, albeit, a little bit hurt, and you hate it. Why is that so much worse, even worse than the sight of him with Breeze hanging off of his arm? His little pout puts a needle through your ballooning anger, and you deflate, sighing.

“I’ll see you around, I’m sure.”

“Yeah,” Eren takes his coffee from Pieck and ambles towards the door, sparing you one last glance over his shoulder. Unwilling to hold his eyes any longer, you scurry to your table, just having realized that Pieck forgot to put a coffee sleeve around your cup and that it’s been burning your hand for the last several minutes.

“Ow! Shit!” You practically crash land across from Sasha, dropping your cups in synchronicity and shaking your red palms around in the air to cool them down.

“What was that?” Sasha hisses, leaning across the table so viciously that your drinks nearly topple over.

“He just showed up!”

“You didn’t have to talk to him.”

“I didn’t try to. He just, like, materialized behind me and started talking. What was I supposed to do? Run away?”

“Little shit,” Sasha swears, glaring at the door as if her anger can shoot through it like a laser beam, cut Eren down where he’s surely almost a block down the street by now, “what did he say?”

“He asked if I’ve been avoiding him," you say, twirling your wooden coffee stirrer through your drink idly and trying to look as if your heart’s not still beating at what’s sure to be a dangerous rate.

“Well, haven’t you?”

“Yeah, but I wasn’t about to tell him that. He got all smug about it,” you scoff, the replayed scene of Eren’s self-assured smirk wiping off of his face bringing you a little bit of petty satisfaction, “until I brought up Breeze.”

Sasha’s eyes grow wide, and she looks around the coffee shop again, as if Eren or Breeze might come popping out of one of the large potted plants in the corners. “That’s actually what I wanted to tell you. What did he say about it?”

“What did you hear?” You narrow your eyes at her, and she narrows hers back.

“You first.”

“He didn’t say much, just looked really surprised that I brought her up. Said they haven’t been hanging out.”

“That’s bullshit,” Sasha snorts, rolling her eyes. Something in your chest that had begun to glimmer, something akin to hope, feels like it just got a bucket of ice-water poured over it. You cock your head, furrow your brows.

“How would you know?”

“Because Hitch and I grabbed some coffee–”

“Hitch? I thought that was a–”

“Okay, don’t crucify me, I know,” Sasha holds her hands up defensively, “it was supposed to be a one night stand, but…I don’t know. She’s cool.”

“Cool?” Even through your desperation for anything Eren-related after a two week drought, you smile knowingly at her. Sasha’s not hard to read, especially when her face goes bright red from chin to forehead.

“Yes,” she hisses, “cool. Anyway, we came by a few days ago, and Eren was here. With Breeze.”

“I mean, I expected as much.”

You’re lying, you’re so lying. The only consolation you’ve had over the last two weeks that you’re not a complete moron is the hope that maybe, just maybe, Eren’s just as forlorn as you, laying around and wishing his phone would buzz with your name on it, wishing you’d pop up at his door with a bag of popcorn ready for movie night. Instead, your worst suspicions have been confirmed, and not only is Eren very much involved with Breeze again, but he had lied straight to your face about it. Ouch.

“They weren’t like, holding hands or anything. Honestly, it looked like they were fighting.”

“Well, what did Hitch say about it?” You don’t even know if you want to know, but with your brain short-circuiting inside your skull, your mouth has free reign to seek out information that will be about as soothing as lemon juice on a papercut.

“Eren won’t talk to any of them about her,” Sasha burns her tongue on her coffee and sucks in a sharp breath, “not even Armin, apparently. She said he’s been moody lately.”

“Wonder why,” you mumble, mulling all of this new information over in your head. Breeze is bad for him, makes him crazy, you already know that. But you didn’t think it would start this soon– you feel like if anything, he should be ecstatic that his long-lost love has finally come back to him. And he can stop trying to replace her, your brain adds helpfully, only doubling the watery ache swelling in your chest.

“Who cares?” Sasha rips open a granola bar, biting into it and continuing to speak with her mouth full. “That’s why you’ve got to stop avoiding him.”

“Huh? That seems like the opposite–”

“No,” Sasha cuts you off, an air of authority in her normally chipper voice, “you’re not going to cower in the corner just because Eren’s back with his shitty ex girlfriend–”

“It’s not just because of Breeze,” you correct her, “it’s because of that voicemail. I have no idea what I said. There’s a lot that’s contributing to my self-induced isolation, trust me.”

“Regardless,” Sasha mouths around another bite of her granola bar, “the only thing that will make you feel better is being around him.”

“That sounds a little contradictory–”

“Trust me,” Sasha interrupts you again, “the best way to make a guy come around is to be up in his face, flaunting how hot and single you are, and to not give him an ounce of your attention. It’s a tried and true method, I promise.”

It turns out that you are a beacon for those with bad ideas, evidently, because later that night, you’ve ended up at Scout’s, cuddled up against the bar with Sasha despite Historia’s fervent protests. If Historia shows up later, just to “check in” (read: see what’s come of Sasha’s terrible plan), you won’t be surprised. She’s prone to being the mom friend and the harbinger of gossip, but she hasn’t shown face quite yet. It’s just you, Sasha, and a handful of regulars, sipping unreasonably cold beers and trying to act as if the early December chill hasn’t rattled you to your bones.

“This is a stupid idea,” you murmur against the lip of your bottle, trying not to seem as unnerved as you are, even after an hour of waiting and sipping. Sasha scoffs beside you, picking through your near-empty basket of peanut shells in search of a full pod.

“It’s not. He’ll be here.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you dragged me out. It only took a week for me to start missing this place,” you run a thoughtful hand along the varnished wooden bartop, “but I’m just still not sure about this whole seeing-Eren-on-purpose thing.”

Before Sasha can answer, the door swings open to reveal the man in question: Eren, accompanied by Armin and Connie, as always, and sporting his standard uniform. Black hoodie, slouchy khaki pants that are tightened around the ankles, and his beat-up Vans.

You nearly sigh into your drink at how delicious he looks, only stopping when the little voice in your head reminds you that the voicemail you’d left him exists. Friends– no, strangers now? The concept of labeling your bizarre, gray-areas-only relationship with Eren brings a chuckle up your throat, one that spills onto the bar.

You can feel him watching you, but to your simultaneous surprise and disappointment, he gives you space, sidling up to the bar a few seats down from where you and Sasha are occupying a couple of bar stools. When Connie throws up a cheerful hand in greeting to you, you tentatively wave back, only for Armin to grab Connie’s attention and turn him toward the bar.

“Ha!” Sasha says triumphantly, looking at you with her eyes glowing like you’re supposed to have reached a revelation of some sort. “See?”

“Did you plot this with Connie?” You narrow your eyes in suspicion.

“No, I’m just a genius, that’s all.”

“I feel like your theory is being proven wrong, not right. He’s not even sitting near us.”

“Because you have the upper hand!” Sasha grins.

“The upper hand?”

“Yeah, he’s giving you some space so you can make the first move, get what you want out of him.”

“And what do I want out of him?” You nearly growl in your frustration, feeling silly sitting exactly four barstools down from Eren with him running through your mind as if he isn’t close enough to just hop up and hug. It’s a genuine question more than a rhetorical one; you’re not even sure what you expect out of him anymore. Another fuck? A fancy date night? A lifetime worth of radio silence, as if Eren isn’t the person you’ve connected better with than nearly anyone else in your romantic history?

Sasha’s brows furrow. “Don’t you know?”

“No! That’s what I was trying to tell you!”

“Oh,” Sasha frowns, rubs her chin, “we should have figured that part out before we came, I guess.”

“Sasha!” You whisper-hiss, ever mindful of what you’re sure to be prying ears only a few feet away. “So you have no plan?”

Sasha stumbles, stutters, and eventually, flushes bright red with a shrug. “Okay, fine, I have no plan. But at least it’s something to break up your routine of laying in bed eating chips and moping around the library.”

“You’re such a bitch.” You roll your eyes, but you don’t mean it, not really. Regardless of how things stand, at the very least you can sneak little glances at Eren, take in how good he looks– no, you correct yourself firmly. You hopped off that train of your own accord, and you’re better for it.

With some verbal manhandling, you goad Sasha into a lull of small talk, classes, anything that comes to mind. A pair of eyes finds you, not the emerald that keeps you up at night, but a pair of hazel old-and-new eyes draw to you, and you can feel the scratch of an unwelcome gaze on your skin.

“Floch’s here,” you state the obvious, sipping your drink and giving no physical indication that you’ve noticed him, staring straight ahead as you mutter to Sasha.

“Christ, this was not a good idea,” Sasha groans, face-palming.

“Wow, I sure wish that someone had suggested this was a bad idea, wouldn’t that have been nice?”

“Shut up,” Sasha says, peeking warily over her shoulder, “I think that’s Hitch in the corner, too.”

You frown, confused at the hunched, anxious change in her posture. “Why are you being weird? Go say hey.”

“I’m not abandoning you!”

“Oh, shut it. Why are you really being weird?”

“I, uh…” Sasha twirls her beer around on the counter, blushing, “I haven’t texted her back in like, four or five days.”

“Sasha! You like her, I can tell. What’s gotten into you?”

“It was supposed to be a one-night thing,” Sasha moans, letting her face fall dramatically into her hands, “and then it was movie nights and coffee and just…way beyond casual hooking up. I like her, but…I don’t know! I panicked.”

You chew on her admission for a second, selfishly comparing Sasha’s situation to your own. Was that what you were doing with Eren? No, surely not, but was that what he was doing with you? You knew he had loved Breeze, that she had wrecked him, but maybe…just maybe some small part of you wants to hope that he’s moved on, that the coffee shop sighting was a fluke.

You shoo Sasha in Hitch’s direction, demanding she run over to apologize and make nice with Hitch, partially to save Sasha’s first shot at a real relationship in years and partially because you want to stew alone with your thoughts. Before you can get too deep into your black hole of what ifs, a familiar presence is sliding into Sasha’s seat, grinning lewdly.

You sigh; it was only a matter of time before he sought you out.

“What do you want, Forster?”

“Last name only? Ouch,” Floch places a hand over his heart, drumming the fingers of his other hand on the countertop. You recognize his demeanor immediately: pupils blown wide, buzzing to the brim with nervous energy. Floch’s always dabbled in party drugs, part of why you could only stand to be around him in small doses back when you were hooking up.

“Are you coked out right now?” Mindful of Levi’s hovering presence behind the bar, you keep your voice to a low hiss.

“So you can’t call me by my first name, but you can ask such personal questions? Jesus, you really are full of it, aren’t you?”

“Floch,” you nearly groan in frustration, “I thought I made it perfectly clear the last time I saw you that I’m not interested.”

“Why are you being so mean to me, hm?” Floch snakes a hand around your shoulders, jostling you until your face is mere inches from his. You’re more than aware of a pair of green eyes nearly boring a hole in your forehead, and you feel a pang of regret that you sent Sasha away so quickly, remembering far too late that Hitch’s table doesn’t offer a great view of where you’re seated at the bar.

“I’m not being mean,” you try to push at him, but he’s locked around you, “I’m just not interested.”

“Stop being such a bitch, Jesus Christ,” Floch finally lets you shove him away from you, but he’s far from done, “when did you get so stuck up, huh?”

“Floch. Keep your voice down, and walk away.” You try to warn him; Floch may be a pain in your ass, but you’d like to believe that he’s not a bad guy, deep down. You’re too late, however. 

Eren’s materialized between you and Floch before you can blink, before you can even get another word out. His sudden presence forces you out of your barstool, stepping around him to get a better read on what the hell he thinks he’s doing. Eren seems not to notice you trying to insert yourself between him and Floch, and the look on his face makes you step back momentarily.

He looks terrifying. Eren’s nostrils are flaring, eyes blown wide and jaw clenched tight. He’s taking full advantage of his height, glaring down at Floch with such menace that if looks could kill, Floch would already be laid out on the floor.

“Get the fuck out of here, dude. She said no.”

“What are you, her little guard dog?” Floch, infamous for never knowing what’s best for him, scoffs at Eren’s incredibly intimidating posture.

“Maybe I am,” Eren sneers, “I’m damn sure not going to sit there and let you speak to her like that.”

“Who’s this loser?” Connie’s to your right now, gesturing to Floch. You don’t miss the telltale clenching of Eren’s hands by his side, and it hits your dizzied mind what’s going on. Eren’s going to end up swinging if you don’t interfere, and Connie’s there for backup. 

“Floch, please.” You reach a feeble hand up to Floch’s chest, trying to gently push him in the other direction.

In the blink of an eye, Floch’s grabbing you by the wrist hard enough to solicit a yelp from your lips, throwing your arm away from him with a look of disgust.

“Oh, so now you want to touch me, bitch?”

No sooner has Floch’s hand released your arm than Connie’s got his arms wrapped around you, yanking you out of the crossfire. Amidst a series of gasps, Eren grabs Floch around the back of the neck, pins him face-first to the bar. 

“Jaeger!” Levi barks sharply, darting over to the scene of the commotion.

“Is that what gets you off, huh?” Eren’s nearly nose-to-nose with Floch, whose busted lip is twisted in a grimace and dribbling little bits of blood onto the varnished bartop. “Calling women bitches when they don’t want your little dick?”

“Let him go, Eren,” Armin tries to intervene, having already dashed over from his barstool. You want to back him up, but you’re frozen where you’re pinned to Connie’s chest, trembling in his arms. You know Eren’s a little rough-and-tumble, but this, seeing it in real life, is much more terrifying than you could have imagined.

“What the hell? Are you okay?” You can hear Sasha’s voice from beside you, close enough to touch but distant in comparison to where your vision is zeroed in on Eren’s grip on the back of Floch’s neck.

“Answer me!” Eren rears Floch back a few inches and slams him against the bar again. Floch curses under his breath, wriggles fruitlessly under Eren’s weight.

“Get the fuck off me, Jaeger!”

“You fucking wish,” Eren hisses, tightening his grip further, “now apologize to my girl before you make me do something I’ll regret.”

“Eren,” you find your voice again, shaking out of Connie’s grip. You fist your hands into Eren’s hoodie sleeves, tugging hard enough to get his attention. “He’s not worth it. Let him go.”

“Listen to her, Jaeger,” Levi’s already-deep voice is stained with warning.

When you pull at his sleeve a little harder, Eren turns to you, eyes still blown wide and teeth bared. It startles you, but you hold firm, setting your own jaw and shaking your head.

“Let. Him. Go. Now, Eren.” You’re not sure how you’ve managed to muster up the conviction in your voice, but you’re grateful for it, as it seems to shake Eren back into himself. Eren slowly releases Floch and in the same easy motion, he guides you behind him with one long, strong arm.

“You,” Levi points accusingly at Floch, “out.”

Floch’s jaw drops. “I didn’t even–”

“Out.” Levi’s tone leaves no room for argument, and Floch seems to understand at least that. He turns his glare back to you and Eren, scowling deeply.

“The next time I see you, Jaeger, it’s fucking over.”

“Get lost before you make me fucking embarrass you,” Eren says, voice dripping with venom. Floch shakes his head, lets his gaze land on you. A chilling smile breaks over his features.

“Next time, sweetheart.”

“Get the fuck out of here already, bro,” Connie snaps, pointing towards the exit. Floch takes his leave, sauntering towards the door with all the confidence of someone who hadn’t just been pinned against the countertop. A heavy, staticky silence falls over the bar.

“If I see you fighting in here again, it’s over.” Levi’s cold eyes fall on Eren, who nods curtly in understanding. Eren brushes his hands through his hair, rests a hand on the bun at the back of his head. Something strange is coursing through your body; something that tastes like anger, burns like heartbreak, falls bitter on your tongue like envy.

“Are you okay?” Sasha appears at your side again, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Floch’s such a psycho, I’m not even surprised he picked a fight.”

You nod numbly, eyes never leaving Eren. He finally looks back down at you, none of the heat having left his eyes.

“What the fuck was that?” It takes you a moment to realize that it’s you speaking, you throwing those words up the inches from your mouth to Eren’s. Eren’s face contorts into a frown.

“What do you mean? He was bothering you, wasn’t he?”

“So you try to fight him?” You seethe. Maybe it is anger, this bizarre, foreign emotion tingling at the tips of your fingers. No, that’s not quite it, you’re not angry you’re just…confused. Hurt that Eren’s frolicking around with Breeze, doing whatever he pleases, and yet, he’s jumping into bar fights to save you from the tangible evidence of your past.

“What do you expect me to do when someone talks to you like that?” Eren hisses back, eyes narrowed.

Sasha’s backed away from the two of you now; you’re aware of your friends staring at you, noses scrunched as they try to figure out exactly what’s happening now. You wish you had an answer to give them, but all you can muster is this heartache shooting out of your mouth in the form of daggers.

“I don’t need you,” you spit, “I don’t need your protection.”

“It didn’t exactly look like you had that handled,” Eren scoffs, rolling his eyes.

“Oh, and what are you? My knight in shining fucking armor? Don’t you have other damsels in distress waiting for you?” It’s too far, you know that as soon as the words leave your mouth, but the liquid courage Sasha had insisted upon is making your tongue sharper than you’d anticipated.

Eren rears back from where he’s hunched to meet you on your level, nostrils flaring again. Before you can utter another word, he’s got an arm thrown around your shoulders none-too-gently, practically dragging your stumbling feet towards the exit.

“Outside.”

[ackermansupremacy]

Hey we texted and now Imma officially request this PLS PLS PLS BABY.

Pls do a hc format post on modern au marley kids being friends with the 104th squad, and a warriors one too pls.

And if u do, pls add Ymir and Marco in the 104th part.

THANKS

Oh my goudddd i got u bestie SORRY THIS TOOK ME SO LONG TO GET OUT

Gabi

Of course, Gabi and Reiner get along great 

They’re cousins after all 

So the two of them were basically built in buddies from the start 

They’re the youngest members of their family so at all reunions (do white people have those?/srs) they were always forced to sit at the designated childrens table 

And were always expected to get along despite them having a fairly large age gap 

But due to all the time they spent together they became pretty close 

Even though their energies are polar opposites 

But you know who balances that shit out?

PORCO.

Porco is a perfect mix of both of them he loves playing pranks on Reiner but also scolds Gabi when she needs it 

Reiner is literally exhausted by the feral energy and basically holds the two of them on leashes 

He cannot take them anywhere in public without being humiliated and violently humbled all at the same time 

But when shes not with Porco and Reiner you can usually find her with JSC

Jean, Sasha and Connie became friends with her completely by accident when they met up with Reiner one day and she happened to be there

Ever since then they’ve kind of been inseparable

She matches all of their feral energy and its HILARIOUS 

They always play video games together and she becomes such a beast at mariokart and mortal kombat that Jean will NOT play with her anymore 

Her and Sasha always go on the food runs together because shes so happy that shes not the only girl in that little group anymore

People genuinely believe shes Sasha’s little sister 

And they kind of just go with it, neither of them really mind it  

Hot take, another person she really got along with was Eren 

Before he became the emo boy we all know and love 

Since then, he doesn’t really hang with her as much and just considers her a nuisance

But she still harasses him cuz she thinks its funny which GREATLY annoys him

All of them being together at once is literally hell for Reiner and you can rarely catch him there without hearing him say “I need a cigarette” at least three times 

Falco

Falco and Historia are definitely buddies 

She def used to babysit him when he was a little kid 

He had his first little crush on her when he was like seven and he gets relentlessly teased for it 

She absolutely adores him and thinks hes the cutest thing ever and constantly tells embarrassing stories from when she used to babysit him 

Much to his dismay though

Even tho she hasn’t babysat him in a few years shes still there for him a lot 

She picks him up from school sometimes and when his parents are out of town overnight she’ll drop by with pizza or she’ll make a homecooked meal for him and Colt just to check up on them 

 And she of course takes Ymir with her since they’re a packaged deal, whos constantly giving Colt serious side eye whenever he looks at Historia for longer than five seconds 

Ymir and Falco also get along really well, hes also been around Ymir a lot, all the way back when Historia insisted they were just friends 

So Falco is used to her being in the car while he gets rides home from school

Another person he also really gets along with is Marco! 

Marco is one of his biggest role models because hes basically in the same role in the friend group as Falco 

And Falco really admires the way he’s able to deescalate situations and diffuse arguments all while being very kind about it 

When Marco finds out he is GASSED 

Him? A childs role model? 

Its the greatest honor hes ever received and he feels so special cuz he loves kids! 

Hes always there to give him advice that hes too embarrassed to ask Colt for 

And gives him rides in Historia and Ymir’s stead

Falco very much prefers being around the 104th as opposed to the warriors since they’re closer to his own age and the warrior intimidate him a bit honestly 

But i can see him hanging around Zeke quite a bit 

Someone mistook Zeke for his father once and Zeke just went with it

And Pieck made it the BIGGEST running joke for YEARS

Zofia

Due to being friends with her Mother, Pieck and Zofia are super close!! 

Pieck absolutely adores her and spoils the hell out of her  Every birthday, every christmas since she was practically a baby Pieck would buy her cute little dresses fit for a porcelain doll 

Pieck was the first person who ever did Zofia’s makeup, curled her hair and painted her nails 

She was the first person she ever had a sleepover with too when she was little! :)

Since Gabi isn’t the most girly, Pieck holds tightly onto the femininity that Zofia likes to show 

Whenever theres a school dance or any formal event, Pieck is always the first person Zofia goes to because she knows exactly where to get dresses and pretty nail polish

She definitely gives her a ton of cute nicknames like Zofie and Zoe <3

I also headcanon that Zofia and Annie are distantly related

The kind of related where they would only see each other once in a blue moon at someones wedding or a funeral for an old family member neither of them remembered

Despite this, whenever Zofia gets dragged by Falco and Gabi to one of the get togethers the 104th has 

Annie always makes sure Zofia stays close to her and doesn’t get wrapped up in whatever crazy shit Connie, Sasha and Jean are doing 

Her and Annie aren’t exceptionally close but they’re close enough that Annie looks out for her 

The only other person Annie trusts with looking out for Zofia is Bertholdt 

He feels super special with being trusted with this job because he thinks it might be able to score him some points with Annie

Zofia sees through his crush SO quickly 

And she of course teases him about it 

And exploits the hell out of it and uses it as blackmail when necessary 

She basically has him wrapped around her finger 

He doesn’t even mind it that much cuz he thinks shes adorable and like a mini version of Annie and truly believes she can do no wrong despite Reiner’s warning 

“I’m telling you Bert all those little shits are evil...” “Come on Reiner they’re just little kids!!”

Udo

I know shes not a warrior, but y’all already know he gets along the best with the love of my life Hanji Zoe

Shes definitely one of his moms closest friends 

And his science teacher! 

They’re the reason why he loves science so much! They’ve taught him most of the stuff he knows about all of his special interests 

She gives him rides home from school sometimes when he doesn’t walk back with his friends 

They always stop by mcdonalds for ice cream and fries on the way home despite her knowing sugar makes him really hyper 

But thats a problem for his mom not them LMFAO 

Hes a mature kiddo so hes always gotten along really well with the adults, so he gets along well with his other teachers Levi and Erwin as well 

But out of all of the 104th, Udo and Armin are for sure the closest 

They share a lot of common interests and always have a lot to talk about 

For one Armin loves hearing all the facts about animals, birds and bugs 

And the two of them like to go bird watching together while everyone is inside fighting over the Xbox controllers 

I see the two of them getting overstimulated by sound and lots of people being around so they like to go for quiet walks together and chat amongst themselves in general silence 

They talk about the books they’re currently reading and share story ideas and prompts with each other 

As well as new music artists they’ve discovered that they think each other would like 

Udo is kind of like the chaotic to Armin’s calm

Its a good balance for him, compared to the others Udo is a lot quieter and calmer and they have a lot more in common than he does with some of his friends 

So hes like a little brother :) 

However upon learning that Udo looks up to him and sees him as a role model that made him really nervous and suddenly makes him feel like hes not worthy of being a kids role model and like he would let him down somehow 

But its okay, because its hard to let them kiddos down <3

IM SO SORRY BESTIE THIS TOOK ME SO LONG TO GET OUT ILY