#character: armin

[ashtrayangell]

i think that childhood best friends to enemies trope is the most tragic thing to ever exist bc like. we’ve both done unspeakable things to each other and there’s no getting back to what we were at the start of this but there’s a part of me that still knows you like no one else could ever possibly know you. the whole idea of trust and devotion turned to a mutual, burning hunger to destroy each other. I hate you this much because i loved you this much. drives me insane.

[vantetaes]

SPOILED BRAT 🫧🥂

SUGARDADDY!CONNIE! X SPOILED!BLACKFEM!READER

SUMMARY!!! connie tells yn no

WARNINGS!!! overstimulation, oral (f receiving), daddy kink, implied ‘age gap’, mentions of drug dealing, sex 18+!!

you’d been together with connie for a 6 years at this point. the two do you did everything together. he always made sure you were straight no matter what.

you’re his woman. his pride and joy. his headache.

just today: he’d taken you to brunch to help recover for your god awful hangover acquired by spending the night before taking shots of don julio with your friends. he took you to the hair store, buying you new bundles for the season change, then payed for the install. taking you to lunch after your hair was done. deciding you were getting tired of walking, you requested one last lap around the mall, which ultimately ended with connie wanting to see your nails a different color and a new set of lashes.

you’ve been gifted birkins, 24 karat bracelets, trips out of country just because, and even receiving a maybach for getting through your first year of college. everything you ever wanted, he made sure you got. no if, ands, or buts.

bouncing on the tippy toes of your pretty pink chanel slippers. the fresh white pedicure compliments the white lettering on your shoes. your eyes glaze over the stores extensive amount of new products. you wonder in awe as connie walked behind you, carrying your bags while his face is buried in his phone.

“oo! they have the two piece i’ve been wanting!” only hearing the paddling of your shoes, connie barely has time to look up before you and a PINK store associate were talking about the newly released thong set.

“you want it?” he asks simply, hand caressing the small of your exposed back.

“no i already have too much!” you shake your head, your fresh set of lashes batting against your face as you eyed the clothing. connie’s hand flags down the worker from earlier.

“can we get all if the color for this set, medium.” he places a few hundreds in the woman’s hands before she scurries off to fulfill the purchase.

“thank you, baby.” you giggle , giving him a small kiss on the cheek. the strawberry scented lipgloss leaves a transparent pink path on his face. which stays there. before you could bring up the fact that you were eyeing one more thing in the store, connie’s ringtone went off. he peers down before gazing back at you. placing a quick kiss to your lips, he slides away.

“give me one second, baby.”

he basically stormed out of the store, face twisted up.

from your view through the glass it looked like someone fucked something up. connie’s tattooed had runs across his head, sighing into the phone before shaking his head a final time, hanging up.

once he returned, the worker rushes a few bags over and the left over money from the exchange.

“keep it. ♡︎, let’s go.” he takes the bags carefully before heading for the exit. his tone was firm but still gentle enough that you didn’t feel offended.

-

finally back home, washing every piece of clothing you got today, you noticed your fiance was a little quieter than usual.

changing into something a little more comfortable, you walk out into the large penthouse living room.

“what’s wrong?” you quiz. his head shoots up from its resting position on his hand to shake his head.

“nothing princess. just some stuff i have to go handle in a few, you good?” he asked concerned.

“yeah you’ve just been like.. preoccupied away from me all day today! i just want some attention. can i come with?” the long red fur lined robe moved swiftly against your exposed brown skin as you did your little begging dance.

“whatchu’ mean i’ve been ignoring you? and not this time, princess. it’s something real important and i can’t risk some shit happening to you. we not finna do this.”

your motion stops as you stare a little dumbfounded. no? no?? jokingly sticking your acrylic inside your ear, wiggling it, pulling your finger back out to check. he got used to the dramatics years ago.

“what do you mean not this time, connie?” you only used his government when you were mad at him.

connie leans back in the leather chair, pinching the bridge of his nose as he watches you from across the room. he’s always been the one to say yes, to pull strings, to make things happen. you’ve always reveled in that—his power, his ability to hand you everything you could ever want, no questions asked. but this time, the look on his face is different.

“not. this. time.♡︎.” he says, his tone firm, his jaw tight.

“you’re joking?” you say, voice sharp, tinged with indignation. a small flabbergasted smile making its way into your face slowly.

he shakes his head, slow and deliberate.

“i’m serious, ♡︎. i can’t do this. not this time.”

for a moment, you’re stunned, the words hanging in the air between you like a challenge. then, like a flame catching kindling, the fury ignites.

“can’t ?” you spit, laughing abruptly, your voice rising. “or won’t?”

he doesn’t flinch. that only makes it worse.

“you’ll do everything else-” you continue, pacing now, your anger spilling out unchecked.

“-you’ll risk everything for everyone else, but the one time i ask for something that matters to me, suddenly it’s a problem?”

“♡︎, it’s not like that.” his voice is calm, measured, and it infuriates you more.

“then what is it like, connie? hm? you basically ignore me all day and now you wanna leave me here?” you shout, spinning to face him.

“because to me, it looks like you’re picking and choosing when i matter.”

he sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. you know he hates this side of you, the part that lashes out when things don’t go your way, but right now, you don’t care.

“im saying no because it’s not safe. you don’t see the bigger picture.” he says, his voice hardening slightly.

“don’t give me that fucking bullshit!” you scoff, crossing your arms.

“you think i don’t know what you’re wrapped up in? you think i don’t know how you make all this happen?” you gesture around, the designer bags, the jewelry, the life he’s built for you.

his silence speaks volumes, and it only fuels your rage.

“yn. im being polite with you. please don’t start this shit. and watch your fucking mouth, mama. im being calm.” his eyes growing more irritated and narrow. laughing in his face, you turn on your heels, walking back to the bedroom. disappearing down the lengthy hallway. you could hear the slow pads of connie’s feet following after you.

“fine! fuck you! didn’t wanna fucking go anyways.” you huff under your breath, slamming the tall room door behind you.

the man immediately flings the door back open, pointing to the bed.

“sit down. im not fucking asking you.” his jaw clenched tight.

finding yourself crawling onto the white king sized bed, sitting on your knees. the lacey black lingerie set underneath the red fur peeking through.

“what in the hell is wrong with you today, princess?” his voice is growing agitated and upset.

avoiding his gaze, you can only play with the hem of your clothing, ignoring him fully.

“yea we not about to do this shit.”

before you had a chance to react, he was on the bed, pushing your body backwards, and hovering above you.

“why you actin like this, baby, hm?” you couldn’t help but to melt looking at his eyes. everything about how close he is to you is just turning you on. ignoring him again, he’s starting to get fed up.

“im gonna ask you one more time and after, i don’t wanna hear about it.” his right hand held both your hands in front of you and his left was on the outside of your thigh. you could feel his warmth.

“just want attention, daddy.” you mumble, face whipping to the side. his hand shoots up to fix your chin back his direction.

“uhn uhn, speak up.” gently shaking your head side to side, he’s looking at you gently still.

“i want attention. why are you being such a fucking bitch con?”

immediately regretting your choice of words, the man rears up off your body, fixing his shirt and pants. you rush to sit upright, closing the robe, watching as the man put his shoes on.

“baby, you know i didn’t me-“ you start. he just laughs, walking through the open door. chasing behind him, anxiety creeping up your neck.

“baby, im sorry.” your voice barely above a whisper, watching as he grabs his cars keys, then he’s out the door.

-

“just calm down, im sure he’s fine.” mikasa chats on the other end of the phone call. you’re using your other phone to repeatedly dial connie’s number, all chances failing.

“what if he’s not though? he wont even answer!” the salivas getting caught in your throat to think he’s upset with you but who else to blame?

“drink a glass of wine and relax! i just talked to him, he’s fine.” you hear onyankopon on the other side of the line.

“what? how? what did he say?” you couldn’t help but to shove all the questions down his throat.

“chill chill. he’s fine, he said he’s heading back home now. go relax, ♡︎.” the man said on the other end of the line.

“okay thank you, i’ll see you guys later.” the phone beeps off.

making your way to the kitchen, you grab a wine glass. hand skimming over the wall collection you and connie built over the years, you pull out a red wine from italy you got last summer. pouring a generous amount, you decide to just bring the bottle to the living room. waiting for the man to walk through your doors.

cuddled underneath a large white blanket, halfway through a movie, you make it more than halfway through the bottle, unfortunately still slightly sober from anxiety.

until the sound of keys being turned broke you from staring off into space.

he slides in, immediately kicking his shoes off and placing them on the rack. he removes his jacket, hand wiping off some lint from the inside off his shirt. your body jerks into a standing position, blanket laying at your feet.

“baby-“ you start.

“room. now.” he doesn’t even look up at you, he just begins to walk down the hallway. shuffling confused and worried behind him, he turns on a single lamp on his side of the bed.

“lay down.”

crossing your arms, standing firmly.

“not until you tell me where you went and why i couldn’t go!” your lips pull into a line and your eyebrows furrowed.

“lay the hell down. if i have to say it again i swear to god you’ll hate me afterwards.”

still standing firm, you’re unmoved and unwilling. fed up, he walks over to you, his height towers you, throwing you over his shoulder. he tosses you onto the bed, yanking off your robe in the process.

“you want attention? strip.” he begins “and if i have to repeat myself this time, ♡︎, you won’t leave this bed tomorrow.” his jaw gripped tight, words spoken through gritted teeth, he was 100% serious.

without hesitation, you pull the set off with ease. he smiles before digging in his nightstand. pulling out two pairs of fuzzy pink handcuffs and your sleep mask. plopping everything down beside you, you feel his strong hands pick up up from under your arms, pressing your back against the cold bedframe. he reaches behind him, grabbing the supplies. cuffing both your arms to the posts, he gives you a small kiss before covering your eyes.

“connie why are you doing this?” voice unable to hold water, you were a mix of turned on and scared. you knew how he could treat you when he was this angry.

his hand goes back into the nightstand, all you can hear is him place it down beside you. the rattling from his belt being undone causes a reflex in your lower region, clamping your legs closed to gain some kind of traction. you can hear the laugh come from your fiance.

“don’t worry baby, you’re about to get all the attention you wanted.” the sound of his belt buckle hitting the ground followed by the sound of him removing his pants.

before you could try to listen for anything else, all you feel is his lips pressed against your pussy and his hands keeping your knees spread. his tongue licks long strides up and down, from your entrance to the throbbing, swollen bud. his lips pucker around your clit, giving it a few gentle tugs and licks. his hands move close to your core, squeezing every inch of your thighs, humming into your warmth.

“oh- shit con.” moaning, you start to feel a little vibration start to happen. “what’s that-“

he put the vibrator flush against your clit, using his tongue to pump slowly in and out of your clenching hole. flailing against the restraints, you can’t help but to cry out for him.

“please- please daddy, fuck me. im sorry i swear, please.” you feel him pinch the inside of your thigh, causing you to flinch a little.

“don’t tell me what the fuck to do. im gone take you how i want you.” he goes back to abusing your pussy, face covered in your slick and his spit. he’s always been obsessed with eating you. removing one of his hands from your leg, he begins to use his long slender fingers inside while he took turns sucking your clit and then replacing it with the vibrator.

you can’t see anything but little stars floating across the darkness of your eye covering. the intense feeling in your abdomen building up. his fingers slide in and out agonizingly slow, tongue writing love spells on your swollen bud.

“shit connie im gonna- oh fuck!” your body begins to shake as you release. that doesn’t stop him. he continues, his mouth attached to you, unable to pull away.

“that’s my girl. give me some more of that shit, come on baby. this what you wanted right?” his mouth forms an o-shape, licking at the swollen bud while humming. you try to force your knees together, only for him to pin you down into a middle spilt. every inch of you was being sucked, licked, and bitten.

he pulls the vibrator back out, hooking his fingers into you, teasing your g-spot while his other hand switched modes on the wand.

“pretty ass pussy baby. she so wet for me, didn’ even have to do much. yeah, i feel it. make a mess, cum all over my fingers baby.”

the mix of the vibrations, connie’s fingers slowly fucking your hole, and the way he talked to you, you came undone. again. body shriveling up in overstimulation, you can only feel him turn the vibrations off, hoping to be done with this whole thing. you’re already fucked out and a mess.

“fuck baby, youre so filthy for me. but i don’t think im satisfied, ma.” you shake your head a little, knowing that you fucked up. repositioning a pillow under your butt, the man reattaches his lips, going slower than he ever had. mouth frozen in an o shape, you couldn’t help but to cry out.

“it’s too much daddy, be nice!” you cry, eyes brimming with tears, feeling as his warm, wet tongue slowly circles your swollen clit.

“mm- mm.” he offers in a hum, extending his arms up to play with your nipples, tugging gently at them. it seemed like his tongue never stopped moving, sometimes slipping into your clenching hole to collect more of your wetness. the burn in your stomach was intense. you could barely breathe, only pushing out large exhales of air, moans strangled in there alone the string of ‘please’s and ‘fuck’s.

he was eating you like it was a competition and he wanted that fucking gold.

“again, again, connie oh- fuuck.” you’re now full blown crying. the orgasm shaking your body beyond control. the man gently pulls away, softly running his hands around your body. his hands remove your blindfold, wiping some of the fallen tears. the readjustment to light wasn’t too bad but once you saw his face, he just gives you a look.

“im- fine.” you choke out, tears still rolling. he laughs a little, wiping your face before standing and using his should to wipe his.

“im giving you two minutes.”

you swore those two minutes went by quicker than a hellcat in atlanta traffic.

he was now pinning your knees to your ears, dropping his throbbing cock inside you slowly, bottoming out. you let you a cry, in pure bliss. he pulls out quickly, slamming back into you. the sound of sex filled the room.

“pussy so fucking good. taking that shit so good.” he throws his head back, mercilessly pounding into you. he pulls out of you slowly, before pushing back into you. your hands grip at the chains of the handcuffs, bracing yourself for the man’s abuse on your hole. the veins of his cock rubbing the inside of your gummy walls. without warning , you’re squirting all over his dick, making a mess of the bed in the process.

“daddy! i’m sorry!”

“it’s too late for that shit now. let me take these off you.” he reaches up, undoing the cuffs swiftly before tossing them to the side. thinking youre free, you try to roll off the bed, only to be caught by him.

he tosses you over onto all fours, grabbing your arms from your side so your face down into the mattress.

“you know i love you right?” he asks, gripping both your wrists firmly behind your back.

“yes baby i know.” you say, head tilted to the side.

“good cause im about to treat you like i dont.”

slamming into you, he’s relentless. the tip of his cock abusing your poor cervix, digging completely into you. large hands grab hold of your breast, chest stuck in a heavy breathing pattern.

pounding into you, not letting up, you know he’s pissed. trying your hardest to pull away to give yourself so slack, he yanks you back into his length by the wrist.

“nah whatchu’ running for? this what you wanted right? you wanted me to fuck you like this, huh? you gone take this dick.”

he could feel you clenching around him, the slick dripping from your abused hole to to your ass. he could feel how close you were.

“ooo shit, let that shit go baby. imma fucking cum.”

your hands dig into his arms instinctively, eyes rolled to the back of your head, saliva spilling from the sides of your mouth in euphoria. it was so much yet you never wanted it to end. babbling nonsense and hitting connie with the palms of your hand, you release over him, again.

he delivers a few more thrusts, violating your cunt, sopping up every second of being inside you until he’s filling you up.

pulling away from his position, your body lay unmoving.

“was that enough attention for you?” climbing to your side, his large arms pulls you on-top of him. placing gentle kisses to your head, he rubs his hand along your back, giving you a small massage.

“im sorry.”

“shh, it’s all fine now baby.”

connie cleaned the both of you up, tossed the sheets in the wash, replaced them with new sheets he bought while out, and even prepared a small dinner. sitting on the couch, both heads in a silk bonnet, watching love island.

© vantetaes. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarize any of my works. ageless/blank blogs dni.

inspo pics

[entirelytoooobsessed]

puppy boys who need their attention on you like they need air to breathe,

who rest their face on your knee after a long day, a meek whine coming up their throat, practically begging for you to at least look at them. with wide eyes as they nudge at you, hands sliding up your thighs and fingers lightly digging into your skin as they reach your hips and ever so slowly pull down whatever is blocking from fully seeing you.

who know better than to touch without permission, pupils blowing wide as they lick over their lips, fixated only by you.

"please, let me make you feel good~"

armin, gojo, denji, yuuta, zenitsu, tanjiro, yuuji, bachira, your fave<3

[shuosen]

thinking about pretty boys who want to be broken so bad. pretty boys who touch themselves daily to the thought of you using them however, and whenever you want, pretty boys who can never look you in the eye when you talk face to face, because theyre sure if you hold eye contact long enough you’ll figure them out; you’ll realize they’ve been jerking their pathetic cocks to the mere thought of you- maybe they’re afraid you’ll realize you’re missing a pillowcase, your favorite shirt, maybe even your underwear- but what they don’t realize is that you already know. you know about the countless occasions where they’ve snuck into your room, the many nights your name was called into the empty air, and the multiple times they’ve turned in early to do something about the raging hard on inside their briefs.

thinking about pretty boys who, when you finally decide to do something about it, deny your allegations with their cock pressing uncomfortably against their pants, pretty boys who crumble the second you touch them, moaning like a whore when your hand so much as grazes against their dick, and pretty boys who beg for more, even though they’re all spent because they’ve been wanting this for so so long.

könig, gojo, geto, armin — your favorites

im scared to proof read this its so bad & v lazy i’m sorry

[clfixationstation]

people are arguing on twt over whether Mikasa or Historia understands Eren the best, when the clear answer is Armin

[azulmagpie]

I…. Do not really have an explanation for this except for stock photo funny lolololol

[blond3ang3l]

You know who you’d meet at a mitski concert? Fucking rich boy! Armin. You’d be listening to once more to see you when someone had pushed armin into you (did all see the video of those girls fucking yelling at a mitski concert? No etiquette fr). He felt so bad cause the white flared pants you wore got all messed up. He could see the disappointment in your face cause the girl also spilled her drink on you. All without even a damn apology. He helped you up and you both ended up chatting about how much a bitch the girl was. He gave you his sweater since he has a shirt under and the two of you stuck together for the rest of the concert. He brought you up to the front row where he was and you two ended up bonding over loving the song abbey and real men.

At the end of the concert he gave you a ride home. As wary as you should have been you two just clocked, that and your friends had your location so you weren’t as worried. You two talked your heads off until he got to your house. Even when you got the two of you stayed in front of your house, he even showed you some of the lyrics from Francis forvever tattooed on his ribs. You two were just vibin until around 3 in the morning. He left giving you his number and making plans which you happily obliged to. As soon as you got in the house you happily told you friends all about it, sending the pictures that you two took together. Imagine your surprise when they send you his insta. Armin Arlert, the fucking model. You didn’t even know he was famous, it was just your luck. While on the phone your phone went off with a ding.

Minny: “So when are you free again?”

[rorynni]

one of my favourite parts of armin’s design is the way his nose is always a bit red

[vvixes]

Alright, I know a lot of people don't want to hear this, but try to hear me out on my little rant.

Erwin Smith wasn't a good leader. Erwin said himself that the only reason he joined the scouts was to prove his father's theory. He didn't do it to better humanity. He did it because he was upset at the government, which is reasonable, but I digress.

Erwin played with human lives to achieve his own selfish goal, I don't think that's something a good leader should do. He also doesn't show much remorse for his actions. He only shows remorse when he is about to die and realizes that all he did would be pointless because he wouldn't see what was in the basement. I think a good leader should work towards a goal that would benefit many instead of one individual. A good leader should also be sympathetic, which Erwin is not.

And while yes, I agree that Erwin's final speech was extremely well written, it still doesn't show he was a good leader, just a good motivational speaker. Remember, Erwin only led the suicide charge because he saw no other option. It was either die and say goodbye to any hope humanity had and let the warriors win, or die leading his soldiers to their death with the hope that Levi would be able to take out the beast titan. Also, are we just gonna ignore the fact that he admitted to being a conman? He said this to Levi. "To convince these youths to charge toward their deaths, it would take an expert conman and a whole spew of blatant lies." He himself calls himself a conman and a liar. I don't think a good leader should be a conman. I can see lying if it's for a good cause, but not conning people.

Erwin was a manipulator as well. It's not shown very much, but if you pay attention, it's definitely there. My best example is when he met Levi. Erwin offered Levi and his friends a deal. Join the scouts so you don't have to serve prison time. It sounds open and honest until you compare it to the speech he gave to the new soldiers when they were deciding what regiment to join. Erwin told them straight up that joining the scouts was dangerous by telling them about the likelihood that most of them would die within a year. He didn't do the same for Levi. He made it sound like this great deal, and there is a reason for the difference.

Erwin wanted to weed out the soldiers who would be cowardly and not willing to put their lives on the line. He didn't want soldiers who would waste his time. With Levi, he simply wanted him for his potential as a soldier. I truly don't think he cared about Isabel and Farlan. He just wanted Levi and played down just how dangerous the scouts were just to have him. And even after Levi joined the scouts, Erwin knew he couldn't leave. What was he going to go back to? He had nothing. No home, no life, no friends. At least with the scouts, he had purpose, and he didn't have to go back to the underground and return to his life of crime.

This all goes into my reasoning for why I hate how the fandom portrays Erwin and Levi's relationship. But honestly, that topic needs it's own post because this is already too long.

Thank you to whoever reads this whole thing and thank you to @onlyymirknows for showing interest in my unpopular opinion. You're great!<3

[aethellren]

JEARMIN DUMPPP I LOVE THEM SMM

[moonspirit]

The thing is that Aot is a shoujo manga where all the blushy schoolgirls (Armin, Eren, Mikasa, Jean, Reiner, Ymir etc) fall irreversibly in love with the cool-af heroes (Annie, Mikasa, Historia, etc) and spend every third page and panel wondering how to confess their love.

Only, Isayama was too shy to admit this straight-up so he made it with like... some blood.

[vantetaes]

SPRING FLING🫧🥂

COUNTRY BOY! EREN X CITY GIRL BLACK FEM READER

SUMMARY!!! yn goes back to visit what once was her home 15 years ago, only to meet a new face.

WARNINGS!!! 18+!!! high sexual themes! oral (f receiving), penetration, slow burn before smut

a part of you missed it. waking up to the fresh smell of sausage sizzling in hot grease while grits simmered on a burner next to it. feeling the cool summer breeze whip around your sweltering body from playing kickball in the large mowed field with some of the towns kids. drinking freshly squeezed lemonade your grandmother made before tending to her garden.

as the driver slowly approaches your grandparents estate, your heart couldn’t help but to let up a little. the large white house still sat perfectly on their plot of land.

“yn, sweetheart!” the houses screen door flys open with a screech. your grandmother dressed in a flowing white dress, tan beach hat, arm decorated with small gold bangles and her wedding band catching rays of sun.

the driver places his car in park, opening his door to retrieve your suitcase from the trunk. hopping out of the yellow vehicle, the older lady meets you halfway. wrinkled hands caressing your face, she smiles.

“it’s been too long. you’re all grown up on us!”

before anything could leave your lips, a grunt comes from around the bend of the house. your grandfather, covered in motor oil and dirt caked overalls. he removes his gloves, walking towards you and his wife, smile reaching his ears.

“ah i would hug ya honey but im dirtier than the pigs!”

your grandparents liked the life they lived away from the city. the way they could sit on the wrap around porch, grandfather sipping a beer and grandmother some lemonade, their towns newspaper tucked in their palms. watching as the sun ducked their bright red barn, casting a golden glow over the crops and animals grazing on the lush landscape. the stars peeking through transparent clouds, moon creating its atmosphere in the sky.

your grandmother enjoyed picking fresh fruits from her orchard, baking pies and making jams with the delectable fruits. your grandfather loved the lake that sat on the other side of the large property. growing up you’d grown to love these things about them.

as for yourself? you wouldn’t be caught dead doing half the things they do.

your career path led you to pharmaceutical consulting. working for one of the biggest companies in the world. it wasn’t something you enjoyed, but it funded the life you wanted.

living in a penthouse, well off from the city below you. the work was intense, demanding, and you needed to stay on top of it. anyone is replaceable in jobs such as those.

which is why you put in every single pto hour you had into a month long vacation.

to the middle of nowhere.

the wheels of the suitcase clank against the wooden stairs as your grandfather lugs it up the flight. following behind the older lady, excitement bubbles out of your grandmother while she quickens her pace, rushing to the door at the end of the hallway.

when she pushes the door open, it gives way easily, the hinges murmuring softly. the air that greets you is faintly cool, laced with the sweet scent of spring. someone had left the large french windows cracked open, the lace curtains drifting in slow, ghostly ripples.

“just like you left it, darlin’!” the lady says cheerfully.

stepping in feels like stepping back into a memory too fragile to hold in your hands. the room is pale, almost dreamlike. soft white walls, still wearing faint shadows of posters long torn away, frame the space. A canopy bed sits against the far wall, its sheer, pastel pink and ivory drapes spilling down like delicate water, pooled at the floor as if waiting for someone to step through them. the bed itself is made, layered with quilts of faint creams and frilly edges, whispering of afternoons spent sprawled on its surface with a book or diary.

“mary anne, we gotta get back to town to pick up some more feed for the chickens! ‘for the sun go down! i ain’t got my glasses either.” after placing your suitcase inside the threshold, your grandfather gives the back of your head a slight hold before placing a small kiss to the top.

“okay! okay! you ain’t gotta rush, clyde!” the two eventually leave you alone to unpack and do as you need.

to the right, a dresser waits, its porcelain knobs cool and familiar, though you can see chips where small hands must have struck too hard, too often. a vintage vanity mirrors the scene beside it, its surface cluttered with an array of glass perfume bottles, now dulled with dust. the mirror above has started to haze, its edges flecked with age, but you can still catch glimpses of yourself. a cushioned stool still sits beneath, its ruffled seat faded and threadbare.

the light here is alive. golden and warm, it pours through the cracked windows, catching on floating dust motes that swirl like restless fireflies. outside, unseen branches scratch faintly against the frame, their new leaves brushing with the weightlessness of spring. the breeze curls in through the cracks, carrying the faintest hints of magnolia and freshly turned earth, slipping beneath the canopy and rustling the skirts of the curtains.

there’s a rug in the center of the room, its edges frayed, and around it—near bookshelves that haven’t been touched in years—small details stand out like relics: a porcelain music box with its lid still half-open, a stuffed rabbit missing one eye perched on the window seat. all of it feels caught in a quiet kind of waiting.

your footsteps are softened by the wooden floor beneath, the boards groaning faintly under your weight. you look around and inhale deeply. it smells faintly of lavender, of clean linens, freshly cut grass, and mahogany wood.

the hot water washes away the weight of the morning and plane rides, the steam curling in soft, misty clouds that cling to the glass. you stand under the spray longer than you need to, letting it loosen muscles you hadn’t realized were tight, letting it strip the last remnants of dust from your skin. when you finally step out, the room feels cooler, the steam clinging to the mirror and walls in beads of condensation.

lathing your body in cocoa butter and applying a fair amount of lip balm.

you pull on something simple: a soft white tank top and a pair of loose cerulean cotton shorts, light enough to let the sun find your skin. carefully pulling your shower cap off, the water droplets falling down to your shoulders, running off your moisturized skin. you grab a new bottle of sunscreen from your spwarled out suitcase, the book ‘if cats disappeared from the world’, and your black chanel sunglasses.

as you make your way barefoot down the creaking staircase, everything tucked in between your arm. the house warm and bright in a way that feels both lived-in and empty. you’re halfway to the back porch when the front door swings open, and your grandparents call for your attention.

“hey, hold up a minute-” your grandfather says, pausing just inside the doorway, his hat in one hand and the keys to the truck jangling in the other. Your grandmother lingers behind him, hands resting on her hips, her face soft but serious.

“-we’re headed into town for a bit.” she says. “need some supplies for the farm and a few other things.”

you nod, shifting your weight onto one foot as you glance toward the back porch, toward the promise of sun and quiet.

“‘fore you run off-” your grandfather adds, pulling the hat onto his head.

“one of the town boys is ‘posed to be stoppin’ by. hes gone take a look at the barn, see about fixin’ up some of the beams we been neglectin’.”

“you’ll know him when you see him.” she says, a touch warily.

“so just keep an eye out. he’s probably fine, but you know how folks can be.”

something about their tone. half warning, half habit. makes you bristle. you know how quickly people judge someone based on a name, a family, a shadow cast long before them.

“all right.” you say lightly, hoping to end the conversation before it becomes something heavier.

“i’ll be outside if he shows up.”

your grandmother nods, giving you one last lingering look, and then they’re gone—boots on the porch steps, the truck’s engine growling to life and disappearing down the road. you linger by the door for a moment, watching the dust settle in the empty yard. the house feels quieter now, a little too still.

when you turn toward the back porch, the sunlight calls to you again, warm and golden, a balm for whatever comes next.

the back door opens swiftly, letting in gusts of spring air to sweep across the floors. trudging through the plains of grass tickling your thighs, you find yourself at the small floating pond your grandfather built. it sat in front of the large red barn, creating a scene of what farm living actually is.

the pond is fairly quiet, except for the hum of cicadas and the faint lapping of water against its banks. the cows deep moo a little in the distance. the sun hangs high, drenching everything in gold, and the heat wraps around you like a second skin.

you’re stretched out on a reclined lawn chair, a thin towel draped beneath you to catch the sweat. your sunglasses shield your eyes, and a book rests open in your hands, though the words blur a little under the laziness of the afternoon. a half eaten sandwich and a glass of fresh strawberry lemonade sweats beside you, the condensation leaving rings of water on the tiny wooden table. it’s sweet and cold against your tongue, a small relief in the heaviness of the heat.

your top is flung casually over the back of the chair, leaving you in a white bathing suit, comfortable and unbothered as you let the sun soak into your skin. the soft breeze off the water kisses your shoulders every now and then, rustling the pages of your book.

it isn’t until the sharp, uneven sound of boots on gravel carries over the quiet that you lift your sunglasses, brow pinching.

at first, you only catch a shadow moving toward you from the far side of the reservoir. someone tall, broad-shouldered, and clearly not your grandparents.

“hey!” the voice calls, deep but rough, like he hasn’t spoken much today.

you sit up a little straighter, your sunglasses slipping down the bridge of your nose as you look him over. he’s closer now, close enough for you to see the sharp lines of his face, the way dark hair falls a little too messily over his forehead. he’s wearing a plain t-shirt, worn jeans stained at the knees, and scuffed boots that kick up small puffs of dirt as he moves. there’s a toolbox in his hand, which he sets down carelessly at his feet.

“you’re, uh…-” he trails off, scanning you quickly before looking away, his jaw tight. he was issued to seeing old people on this property. but you were a sight for sore eyes. he couldn’t help but fixate his green eyes back onto you. watching as the beads of condensation dripped from the glass to your exposed cleavage, sliding down between your moisturized boobs. that were too big for the swim top your sported. his eyes fed off the way your e/c* eyes shined in the light under the black shields, lips glistening under the rays.

“im here for the barn. your grandparents said someone would be around.” his words are tight and frigid.

you blink, caught between annoyance and curiosity.

“yeah, they mentioned you.” you let your sunglasses slide back into place, leaning back in the chair as if his presence hasn’t disrupted anything.

“didn’t realize you’d be here so soon.”

“you’re welcome.” he mutters, a hint of sarcasm threading through the words as he squats to grab the toolbox.

you raise a brow, bristling.

“didn’t say i was thanking you.”

that makes him pause, glancing up through his lashes like he can’t decide whether to be amused or annoyed. a scoff releases from his lips.

“you sure are a real warm welcome, huh? and you’re reading a book about.. cats?”

“and you’re a little grumpy for someone who just got here. not that it’s any of your concern, i prefer cats over mutts.”

he huffs out a breath, maybe a laugh, but it’s hard to tell, and shakes his head, muttering something you can’t quite hear. you watch as he straightens up again, swiping the back of his hand across his forehead as if to dismiss you entirely.

“look, i’ll stay outta your way. just here to fix the barn, ma’am.” he says, nodding toward the distant structure.

“you can go back to… whatever this is.” his gaze flickers briefly over your lemonade, the book, your sprawled-out figure in the sun, before he turns on his heel and starts walking toward the barn.

you glare after him, irritation bubbling to the surface. the nerve of him, showing up out of nowhere with a chip on his shoulder like you’re the one invading his day.

“you’re welcome.” you call after him pointedly, though he doesn’t stop, just throws a hand up in a half-hearted wave of dismissal.

the barn door groans open in the distance, and you sink back into your chair with a huff, flipping your book shut. for the first time all day, the quiet doesn’t feel so peaceful anymore.

he had been long gone by the time your grandparents arrived back at the house. watching the sun set on the horizon out of the kitchen windows, casting a warm orange and pink hue to the house. you couldn’t help but to think about how strange of an interaction that was today.

“some’ wrong, darlin’?” your grandfather asks, pulling apart a small peice of his dinner roll, slipping it into his mouth.

“nothing papa. just tired i think. not really used to the time difference again.”

-

the kitchen smells like sugar, butter, and lemon zest. thick and warm in the morning light streaming through the windows. you stand beside your grandmother at the granite counter, your hands dusted in flour as you work a soft, pliable ball of dough, rolling it carefully under her watchful gaze. the little puffs of flour catch the light as they float lazily to the counter, turning the morning into something hazy and dreamlike. outside, the morning doves are already humming, and the breeze carries the faintest whiff of honeysuckle through the cracked window above the sink.

“not too thin now, dear.” your grandmother says gently, leaning over to inspect your work. her hair is pinned back neatly, and there’s a streak of flour on her cheek that she hasn’t noticed.

“these tarts need some structure, or they’ll fall apart ‘fore they make it to the church. we can’t have a lock in with no tarts, honey.”

“yes, ma’am.” you mutter, suppressing a small smile as you focus on the dough, guiding it into perfect little circles for the tart shells.

the table is cluttered with bowls and ingredients. deep red raspberries, bright and glistening, piled in a pale ceramic dish; a glass juicer with lemon pulp still clinging to its grooves; a small jar of sugar, the lid left slightly askew. your grandmother moves around the kitchen like she always has. calm, methodical, humming a hymn under her breath as she fills the air with the scent of baking pastry. you help her spoon the tart mixture into the shells, carefully pressing a few raspberries into each before she slides them into the oven, her hands covered in oven mitts patterned with sunflowers.

while the tarts bake, she chats softly about who will be at the church service, about old friends and new faces, her voice lilting as if trying to bridge the years that you’ve been gone. it’s comforting, her easy way of speaking, and you let it wash over you as you wipe down the counters, the scent of caramelizing sugar growing richer by the minute.

“i really appreciate your help this mornin’.” her sweet voice fills the silence.

your grandfather appears in the doorway just as you’re checking the tarts, a small grin tucked beneath his mustache. hes holding a set of keys. old, scratched, and gleaming faintly in his calloused hand.

“got something for ya.” he says, the words light but carrying a weight that makes you stop mid-step.

your grandmother glances over her shoulder, smiling softly as if she’s been expecting this.

“go on, now. see what he’s got.”

you follow your grandfather outside, the morning sun already high and hot, the light pooling across the gravel driveway. parked just off to the side of the house is a truck—not new by any stretch of the imagination, but clean, its pale blue paint shining faintly in the sunlight. it’s an older model, rounded and boxy in that classic way, and you can see where he’s spent hours tinkering with it. fresh tires, a polished hood, the faint scent of oil and steel lingering in the air.

“you’re givin’ me this?” you ask, a little breathless.

“sure am.” he replies, pressing the keys into your palm with a nod that’s gruff but affectionate.

“i’ve been workin’ on it a few months now. runs smooth s’ever. figured you might want somethin’ to get around while you’re here.”

the gesture hits you harder than you expect, and you swallow against the sudden warmth building in your chest.

“thank you,” you say softly, running your fingers over the keys before looking back at him.

he pats your shoulder in that firm, no-nonsense way of his.

“you go on, take her for a spin. just don’t let it sit idle too long, y’hear?”

you decide you can’t possibly drive your new truck around town in the same pajama bottoms and rumpled tank top you’ve been in since morning. after a quick shower, you stand in front of the mirror in your childhood bedroom, brushing your hair as the sun filters softly through the lace curtains. you choose something easy. a flowy white sundress, the fabric soft against your skin, cinched at the waist, flaring out below. it’s the kind of dress that moves when you walk, catching the breeze and making you feel like youre floating. slipping on tan sandals and grabbing your sunglasses.

sliding into the truck feels surreal, the leather of the driver’s seat warm beneath your legs as you turn the ignition. the engine rumbles to life with a satisfying purr, and you grip the wheel with a grin you can’t quite suppress.

the drive into town is nothing short of idyllic. the windows are rolled down, the warm breeze tugging at your hair and the hem of your dress as you cruise past fields of tall grass and wildflowers. radio crackles softly, static giving way to an old country song you don’t recognize but hum along to anyway. the town comes into view slowly. a handful of streets lined with brick buildings, white picket fences, and storefronts with painted signs. it’s small and familiar, a place where everyone knows everyone, and yet it feels entirely new through your eyes.

you park the truck just off the main street, slipping the keys into your bag before heading toward the square. the town is quiet, but there’s enough movement to remind you that life trickles on here. people chatting on porches, kids weaving through alleys on their bikes, a group of guys sitting on the bed of an old truck parked near the general store.

you don’t notice them at first, too busy taking in the details of the place. but their voices, loud and lazy—drift over as you pass.

“well, well.” one of them drawls, amusement curling through the words.

“ain’t expect to see you all the way out here.”

you glance over sharply, your gaze landing on none other than him. eren jaeger. leaned back against the tailgate of the truck, his arms crossed and a lazy smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. his friends exchange looks that border on curious and entertained.

“didn’t expect you to talk to me.” you shoot back without missing a beat, stopping just a few feet away.

eren raises a brow, clearly enjoying this already.

“oh, don’t worry. i’m just surprised you’re not still sunbathing by the pond, princess.”

“princess? it’s yn to you. and all of you.” you repeat, folding your arms across your chest.

“also, big talk for someone who can’t even find full jeans.” your acrylic points to the dirty man-made holes decorating the boys jeans.

that earns you a snort of laughter from one of his friends, but eren just tilts his head slightly, the smirk never faltering.

“guess you’re still mad about yesterday. why you so upset at me, darlin’?”

“mad? please.” you say, rolling your eyes. “nothing even happened.”

“mmh. sure you aren’t.” he says, pushing off the tailgate to stand up fully, his height a little more imposing up close. there’s something sharp about him. his voice, his gaze, but beneath it is something else, something less certain. you get the feeling he’s used to being looked at sideways, just like your grandparents warned you about.

“you always this charming, or is it just for me?” you ask, tipping your chin up slightly. eyes meeting his low green ones.

he huffs out a laugh, shaking his head as his friends snicker quietly behind him.

“you’re somethin’ else.” he mutters, more to himself than to you. turning on your heels, you rush to excape the uncomfortable encounter.

“see you around, princess.”

-

the next day stretches out slow and quiet. the house feels bigger without your grandparents, their absence leaving a stillness that clings to every corner. you’ve taken full advantage of the solitude, padding barefoot through the rooms in an oversized t-shirt and little else. the fabric brushes against your thighs as you move, worn soft with age, like an old friend. the back of the shirt reads something about a fishing derby from a year that predates you, and you’ve rolled the sleeves haphazardly up your shoulders, letting the collar slip wide against your collarbone.

you spend the morning lazing on the couch, your legs sprawled across the cushions as you flip halfheartedly through a book you aren’t really reading. somewhere outside, birds chatter, and the cicadas hum their slow, pulsing chorus.

it’s the kind of day where time feels like it doesn’t exist. you shuffle into the kitchen whenever you’re hungry, toast a bagel you don’t finish, drink lemonade straight from the pitcher, and leave the radio on low just to fill the silence. some soft, crooning voice filters through the speakers, adding to the lazy weight of the afternoon.

you’re perched on the arm of the couch, knees drawn up to your chest, flipping through an old fashion magazine you found tucked in a drawer when the knock comes, sharp and sudden against the door.

it startles you, your head snapping up as the noise echoes through the quiet house. the second knock follows quickly, impatient this time. you glance toward the clock on the wall, but it’s no help, just another reminder that time isn’t real today.

frowning, you slide off the couch, tugging the hem of your t-shirt self-consciously as you head toward the door. the knob feels cool beneath your fingers as you pull it open just far enough to see who it is.

and there he is.

eren, standing on your grandparents’ front porch like he belongs there, though his posture suggests otherwise. hes got one hand braced against the doorframe, his other hooked loosely in the pocket of his jeans. a thin white t-shirt clings to him in the heat, faint smudges of dirt streaked across the fabric like he’s been working outside all day. his dark hair looks even messier than it did before. some tucked into the cowboy hat, other strands falling over his forehead and curling faintly from the humidity.

for a moment, he doesn’t say anything, his gaze catching on your bare legs before he flicks his eyes up to meet yours. his expression shifts, something unreadable dancing just beneath the surface. you realize too late how you must look: hair messy, t-shirt oversized and sliding off your shoulder, a little breathless from having rushed to the door.

“what?” you say finally, crossing your arms over your chest as if that might protect you from the way he’s looking at you.

“nice greeting.” he says dryly, his voice low and a little rough around the edges.

“well, you did show up uninvited.” you shoot back, arching a brow.

“what do you want?”

eren exhales through his nose, almost like he’s amused but trying not to show it.

“your grandparents asked me to stop by. said there’s a busted pipe in the barn and they didn’t want to wait until they got back to fix it.”

you frown, leaning your shoulder against the doorframe.

“and they sent you?”

“clearly.” his lips twitch, the hint of a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.

“believe it or not, i know how to do more than just piss you off.”

you roll your eyes, shifting your weight from one foot to the other.

“well, the barn’s out back. you know where it is. the big. red. building.”

“i do. smartass.” he says, but he doesn’t move, and there’s a spark of something in his eyes. mischief, maybe. that makes you suddenly aware of just how much skin your t-shirt doesn’t cover.

“what?” you ask again, sharper this time.

“nothing.” he shrugs, the movement lazy as he pushes off the doorframe and takes a step back.

“just didn’t peg you for the type to lounge around in your underwear all day. but what do i know? you wore a bikini outside.”

heat flashes across your cheeks instantly, and you grip the edge of the door tighter.

“it’s not underwear, creep. it’s comfortable.”

“sure.” he says, smirk fully formed now as he starts toward the barn, hands tucked into his pockets.

“looks real… comfortable.”

you slam the door before he can say anything else, the wood rattling in the frame.

“asshole.” you mutter under your breath, but your voice is drowned out by the sound of his boots on the gravel, his laughter carrying faintly through the cracked window.

the hum of the radio drifts on, and sunlight still slants through the windows, but something about the space feels restless now. like the air has been disturbed and won’t settle again. you find yourself standing by the door, chewing your lip and staring at nothing in particular.

it’s curiosity, you decide. that’s all it is. you’re just curious about him. about the boy who showed up at your door unannounced, dripping sarcasm like it’s second nature, as though he thrives on pressing your buttons. that’s why, after pacing the kitchen once or twice, you tug on a pair of shoes and head outside.

the barn stands at the back of the property, worn and familiar, its paint faded and roof patched with tin that glints under the afternoon sun. the gravel crunches beneath your feet as you cross the yard, your shadow stretching long ahead of you. you can hear him before you see him. something clattering against metal, followed by a low muttered curse that drifts out through the open barn doors.

you pause just outside, peeking around the corner. eren is crouched low near the base of a wooden post, his toolbox spread out beside him, sleeves shoved up to his elbows. sweat glistens faintly along the line of his neck, dark hair curling slightly against his temple, though he seems too focused on whatever he’s fixing to notice you.

“i hope you don’t talk to the pipes like that.” you say, stepping into the doorway.

eren glances up sharply, his eyes narrowing as soon as he sees you.

“what are you doing in here?”

“just checking on you.” you lean against the frame, arms crossed, the hem of your t-shirt fluttering faintly in the breeze.

“you could be in here stealing, for all I know.”

he snorts, turning back to the pipe.

“yeah, im gonna steal an old tractor and a pile’a hay. that’ll really set me up for life.”

“you’ve got the attitude for it.” you shoot back.

eren doesn’t respond right away, just reaches into his toolbox and pulls out a wrench, testing the pipe with a faint metallic screech. you take the opportunity to wander further into the barn, your bare legs brushing against the dust-speckled air, the smell of earth and old wood thick in your nose.

“don’t distract me.” he mutters after a moment, though there’s no real heat in it.

“distract you from what?” you ask, looking over your shoulder at him.

“you seem like you know what you’re doing.”

“i do.” he replies quickly, then pauses to glance up at you again, that familiar edge of sarcasm tugging at his voice.

“but I don’t need you hovering over me like a supervisor.”

“im not hovering.” you say, wandering toward the ladder that leads up to the loft. You trail your fingers along a beam as you go, the wood rough and splintered beneath your touch.

“im just… observing.”

“observing me.” he corrects, the corner of his mouth twitching.

you shrug, tilting your head to look at him.

“maybe. you’re hard to figure out.”

“well… why are ya tryin’ t’figure me out?” he fires back, turning his full attention to you now. his gaze is sharp, but there’s something behind it. something curious, like he’s trying to pick you apart the same way you’re doing to him.

you hesitate, feeling your face heat up despite yourself.

“im just bored.”

“bored ?” eren repeats, his voice dry.

“well, sorry im not here to entertain you, princess.”

you bristle at the nickname, pushing off the beam to face him fully.

“will you quit calling me that?”

“what?” he says, smirking now. “does it bother you?”

“obviously.”

“good.” he huffs a quiet laugh under his breath, shaking his head as he goes back to the pipe, adjusting the wrench with a sharp twist. the muscles in his forearm flex with the movement, beads of sweat dripping from his body.

“you’re insufferable.” you mutter, rolling your eyes as you turn and start to climb the ladder to the loft. the wood creaks faintly under your hands and feet, but you ignore it, needing to put a little distance between you and him.

“where are you going?” he calls from below, sounding more amused than anything.

“away from you!” you shout back, hoisting yourself onto the loft and brushing the dust from your knees. the space is dim, beams of sunlight filtering through the slats in the walls, catching on cobwebs and hay strewn across the floor. you sink down near the edge, letting your legs dangle as you glance back down at him.

“don’t worry. i won’t distract you from all your hard work.”

eren glances up at you with a look that’s half exasperation, half something else. he stands, tossing the wrench back into his toolbox with a faint clatter.

“or you could just gone back in the house. you’re a real piece’a work, you know that?”

“you’re one to talk.” you shoot back, swinging your feet slightly.

“you act like you hate me, but you keep showing up.”

“i don’t hate you and i keep showing up for your folks, not you.” he mutters, scrubbing the back of his hand across his forehead as he looks away.

“you just talk too much.”

“and you’re just cranky.”

he lets out a soft laugh, one that seems to surprise even him. when he looks back at you, his expression is different, though it’s hard to tell in the dappled light of the barn.

“you don’t know anything about me.” he says finally, his voice quieter this time.

you tilt your head, studying the man below you.

“maybe not. but I know you’re not as bad as everyone says you are.”

eren stiffens slightly at that, his jaw ticking as he averts his gaze. for a moment, the only sound is the wind pressing against the barn, rattling the boards, and the distant hum of cicadas.

“you don’t know that either. and what about you, huh? showing’ up outta nowhere. bein’ as bossy as you are?” he says eventually, his tone flat.

“im a pretty good judge of character. and i used to live here. a lot changes in fifteen years.”

he scoffs, but there’s no real bite to it.

“you’re annoying.”

“and yet you’re still here.” you say, letting a smile creep onto your face.

the loft creaks beneath you, but you don’t think much of it at first. it’s old, worn by years of weight and weather, and the barn itself seems to hum with the memory of its age. eren is below, fiddling with his toolbox, muttering curses under his breath as he wrestles with some stubborn pipe or post. you’re perched on the edge of the loft, legs dangling as you watch him, not bothering to hide your smirk.

“you’re taking forever.” you tease, your voice carrying through the barn.

eren pauses, glancing up with an annoyed glare.

“if you think you can do it faster, darlin’ , be my guest.”

“oh, i didn’t say that.” you reply, leaning back with a huff of satisfaction.

“i’m just observing how inefficient you are.”

he mutters something under his breath, shaking his head, and you’re about to push his buttons again when the sharp sound of splintering wood freezes you. the beam beneath you gives a slow, aching groan. erens head shoots up, noticing the lift giving in right where you sat.

you don’t have time to react. the wood cracks loudly, shattering the stillness, and suddenly you’re falling.

it happens in a rush. your stomach lurching, air rushing past you, hands scrambling for anything to grab. you hit something solid but not the ground. the impact knocks the wind out of you, but there are arms around you, holding you tightly.

“jesus christ!” eren’s voice cuts through the chaos, sharp and alarmed. “are you stupid?”

your brain catches up slowly, heart still slamming against your ribs as you look up to find eren staring down at you. his face is just inches from yours, his arms wrapped firmly around you where he caught you before you could hit the floor.

“i—” you start to say, but the words catch in your throat.

eren lets out a breath, long and shaky, as he lowers you carefully to the barn floor. his hands linger at your sides, steadying you. “are you okay?”

you try to nod, but then you feel it. the sharp, searing pain radiating up your leg. you wince, shifting slightly, and his eyes dart downward.

“you’re hurt.” he says flatly.

“no, i’m fine,” you lie, but as soon as you move your leg, the pain worsens. you look down to see a gash along your shin, blood streaking your skin where the wood must have splintered against you.

eren notices immediately.

“shit-” he mutters, reaching for you before you can protest. “don’t move.”

“eren, i’m fine,” you insist, but your voice wavers when you try to put weight on your leg.

“yeah, sure you are,” he shoots back, already scooping you up before you can argue. his arms slide beneath your knees and back, lifting you effortlessly.

“stop squirming, unless you wanna make this worse.”

you freeze, stunned at the way he carries you, like you weigh nothing at all. his face is set, focused, though you swear you can see a flicker of concern beneath the irritation.

“you don’t have to carry me.” you mumble, feeling heat creep up your neck.

he doesn’t look at you. “and what, let you drag yourself back to the house? don’t be stupid. now imma have to fix up the loft.”

the walk back to the house feels longer than usual, the silence stretching between you save for the crunch of his boots against the dirt. you steal glances at him—at the way his brow furrows in concentration, at the way his arms flex slightly beneath your weight. his grip is careful, like he’s afraid of jostling you too much.

“you’re really dramatic, you know.” you say quietly, trying to lighten the mood.

eren snorts, glancing down at you with a raised brow.

“me? you’re the one who decided to fall through the damn barn.”

“it wasn’t a choice.” you mutter, pouting slightly.

“whatever you say, princess.”

he carries you through the front door like it’s nothing, kicking it open with his boot before setting you down gently on the couch. the shift makes you wince, and he notices, crouching beside you immediately.

“last door on the left, under the sink.”

“stay put.” he says, voice low but firm, before disappearing into the bathroom.

you sigh, leaning your head back against the cushions as the adrenaline starts to wear off, leaving behind nothing but the dull ache in your leg and the embarrassment settling deep in your chest.

when eren comes back, he’s holding the first aid kit and a damp towel. he drops onto the floor in front of you, his knees brushing the edge of the couch as he sets everything down.

“this might sting.” he warns, wetting the towel before carefully pressing it to your shin.

you hiss through your teeth, nails curling into the couch cushion. “you could be a little gentler, you know.”

“i am being gentle.” he says, though his tone lacks its usual bite. he works quickly, cleaning the blood and dirt from the scrape before carefully dabbing it dry.

you watch him quietly as he unwraps a roll of gauze, his movements surprisingly careful, his expression softer than you’ve seen before.

“you didn’t have to do all this.” you say softly.

eren doesn’t look up, focused on securing the bandage.

“yeah, well. you’re not exactly good at taking care of yourself.”

“is that your way of saying you care?”

he pauses for half a second, his eyes flicking up to meet yours. the look he gives you is unreadable, but there’s something there. something warm.

“just… don’t do anything stupid like that again.” he mutters, his gaze dropping back to the bandage.

you bite back a smile, watching as he finishes and sits back on his heels. his hands linger on your leg for a moment, testing to make sure the gauze is secure before he finally stands.

“thanks.” you say quietly, your voice soft.

eren just shrugs, grabbing the first aid kit and standing to his full height. “don’t mention it.”

you try to mimic his movements, grabbing onto the arm of the couch for support until the pain shoots you right back down. eren wastes no time meeting you at eye level again, frowing a little.

“you need to stay put. stop being so damn hardheaded, yn.”

“finally you use my name.” his eyes burn deep holes into yours, brown chunks of hair framing his face.

“eh. i still like princess.”

he pauses, just for a second, as if he’s considering something. then he turns, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that makes your breath hitch.

“both are real pretty though.” he mutters, but his voice is quieter now, softer. there’s an edge of something else there, something that’s hard to place.

you feel your heart pick up, and before you can even process the thought, before you can even think to stop him, he’s closing the space between you. his hand comes to rest gently on the side of your face, and then, with surprising tenderness, he leans in. the kiss is slow, hesitant at first. just a brush of lips against yours. but it deepens quickly, and for a moment, it feels like time itself is holding its breath. maybe you were holding your breath. his hand curls around the back of your neck, and you instinctively lean into him, eyes fluttering shut as the warmth of his lips presses against yours, soft and urgent.

the kiss is over almost as soon as it started, and when he pulls back, his face is so close to yours that you can feel his breath on your skin. his eyes are dark, a little unsure, but there’s something raw there too.

“eren?” you whisper, breathless, unsure of what to say, what to do with the sudden surge of emotions.

he doesn’t speak at first, just looks at you like he’s trying to figure you out. his fingers linger against your skin for a second too long before he pulls away, stepping back.

“um, guess i’ll get going then.” he says, voice low, almost like he’s unsure of himself for the first time.

he basically rushes out the front door, leaving you with a bloody gauze pad wrapped around your shin and a sense of confusion.

-

the farmer’s market buzzes softly with life. the air smells of ripe peaches and freshly baked bread, and the sunlight filters through the trees, dappled and golden. you weave through the crowd, your basket swinging lightly on your arm, filled with a small loaf of sourdough and a jar of honey. it’s your favorite part of the week, wandering between the stalls, picking out produce and listening to the steady murmur of the townsfolk.

you’ve got a small crumpled list tucked into your hand: oat milk, a jar of honey, maybe some fresh greens, and you’re weaving your way through the market when you spot him. eren. he’s standing with a man you can only assume is his father. the resemblance is impossible to miss: the sharpness of the jawline, the same dark hair, though his father’s is streaked with gray, and the way they both carry themselves. quiet and a little standoffish. they’re posted at a vegetable stand, crates of carrots, onions, and cucumbers spread out before them. eren’s arms are crossed as he listens to something his father says, his brow furrowed like he’s only half paying attention.

something about the way eren glances around, almost restless, makes you hesitate. you watch for a beat longer, tucked slightly behind another booth, debating whether to approach. but then eren looks up, and his gaze lands on you. for a second, he’s still, his face unreadable. then his eyes shift slightly, narrowing, and it almost feels like he’s warning you.

you step forward anyway, hobbling a little on your sore leg.

“eren.” you say, your voice soft but steady. his name feels strangely loud against the background chatter, and both he and his father turn to look at you.

eren’s face tightens slightly, but he doesn’t look away. his father, on the other hand, gives you a long, slow once-over, his sharp green eyes cutting into you with a coolness that makes your chest tighten.

“who’s this?” his father asks, his tone mild but clipped, like the words have edges.

“yn, sir.” you offer quickly, stepping closer and giving him a polite smile.

“i’ve been staying with my grandparents for the spring. i’ve seen eren around, so i thought i’d introduce myself. he helps around a lot.”

you hold out your hand, but his father doesn’t take it. instead, he leans forward slightly, resting his forearms on the booth’s counter, his gaze steady and unwavering.

“introducing yr’self, huh?” he says, his voice light, almost amused, but there’s something underneath it, something just sharp enough to make your stomach flip.

“not many of the town folk bother to stop by our booth, let’lone introduce themselves. guess you must be curious.”

you pull your hand back awkwardly, your smile faltering as you glance at eren.

“i just thought it would be nice, sir. i apologize.” you reply, trying to keep your voice even.

“your vegetables do look great.”

his father lets out a soft huff of a laugh, barely more than an exhale.

“yeah, they do, don’t they? we put a lotta work into this land. more than most people around here would know.”

eren shifts beside him, his jaw tightening.

“dad.” he mutters under his breath, but his father doesn’t even glance at him.

“you stayin’ with the wrights?” his father asks, tilting his head slightly.

“figured. they’re good people, always minding their own business. shame not everyone in town does the same.”

you blink, the words settling in your chest like stones. there’s no malice in his tone, not directly, but the weight of them is unmistakable.

eren’s hand comes up to rub the back of his neck, his shoulders tense.

“she’s just trying to be nice.” he says, his voice low, almost resigned, like he knows it won’t make a difference.

his father finally straightens, dusting his hands off on his jeans.

“nice is fine-” he says, glancing at you again. “-but not everyone ‘round here is friendly as they seem. might be worth ‘membering.”

the air between you feels tight, uncomfortable, and you’re not entirely sure if his words are meant as advice or something closer to a warning. you force another smile, even though your face feels stiff, and take a small step back.

“well, it was nice meeting you.” you say, your voice a little quieter now.

“i’ll let you both get back to work.”

eren looks at you then, his lips pressing together like he wants to say something but can’t. his father, however, just gives you a small, curt nod.

“have a good day, darlin’.” he says, the words clipped and formal.

you turn quickly, your cheeks burning, and make your way back into the flow of the market. the cheerful voices and warm sunlight feel duller now, muted by the lingering tension.

it’s not until you’ve stopped by another stall, pretending to inspect a bunch of lavender, that you feel eren’s presence beside you. you glance up, and there he is, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, his face pulled into a scowl.

“sorry about him.” he mutters, his voice low. “he’s… he’s just like that.”

you shrug, trying to act like it didn’t bother you, though the knot in your stomach hasn’t quite eased.

“it’s fine.” you say softly, but the look he gives you says he doesn’t believe you.

for a moment, neither of you speaks. the market swirls around you, full of life and sound, but between you, there’s only a quiet tension. finally, eren sighs, tilting his head toward the edge of the market.

“come on,” he says. “let’s get out of here.”

-

you’ve learned to move quietly, to slip through the back door of the house when no one’s looking, to meet him at the edge of the woods by the lake when the sun has set and the stars are just beginning to prick the sky. everything feels like it’s wrapped in silence, soft and secretive. even the air between you seems charged with something unspoken, something thrilling. for two weeks.

he was addictive.

soft whispers under your large quilts as his lips traced kisses from your neck to lips. engulfing you in a warm embrace. wind blowing through the windows he snuck into.

he loved seeing you drive past him casually in your truck while picking up groceries for your grandmother. watching your hair whip in the wind and the low hum of the trucks engine passing by.

when you and him sat in his living room, playing with the golden lab he named ‘scout’ when he was four. your fingers comb through his mane, tilting your face upwards to avoid from being licked by the drooling animal.

whenever your grandparents gave him yet another daunting task around the farm, he’d watch as your sprawled out in a bikini. sipping the sweet tea, beach hat shading your face. watching as the droplets of water dripped down your chest. he’d hate to admit how many times he’s almost nailed his hands to the barn.

“you okay over there?” your arm, half up in a wave, drawling his attention from your new position. you lay on your chest, slowly pulling at the strings holding your top up. letting them dangle off the side of the chair, you slide the waistline of your bottoms down a little.

“eren! why don’t you come have some lemonade with me?”

you were driving him nuts.

he loved how lively you would get after spending the afternoons in a tiny, quaint bar located on the outskirts of town.

the drives back usually consisting of you halfway out the passenger window, eyes gazing up at the sky as you took advantage of the open landscape. eren would watch you intensely, eyes bouncing from the road back to you.

pulling into erens dirty path driveway, he pulls your body across the long front seat, carefully tucking his arms under your knees and around your back.

“im not drunkk!” you whine, face buried into the crook of the man’s neck while he places you down softly on the dark leather couch. closing his front door, his hand runs through his brown locs with an exasperated sigh.

“you need to sober up so i can take you home, yn. i ain’t trynna deal with a angry mob of old church people.” his height blinds out everything in your path as he stands over you. his large hands cup your face gently.

“boy im grown, come here.” you whisper, pulling him down by the forearm, eyes never leaving his. green eye flicker from your eyes to your glossed lips. your essence was like a gravitational pull.

lips locked onto one another, you can’t help but to notice he much softer his lips have gotten.

“you been exfoliating?”

“i’on know what that is, shut up and kiss me.”

it was hungry. borderline filthy the way his hands rubbed you down slowly. caressing the dips of your waist, cold jewelry slides across your stomach, hitching your breath. the tank top you wore stood no chance. brown nipples poking through the sheer cotton fabric.

hes smiling. feeling his hands roam you so freely. he couldn’t help but to take his thumbs and pointer fingers, slipping them into his mouth and out with a quick pop! going back under your shirt, he takes your perky buds in between his fingers, rolling them slowly as the rest of his hands cup your breast.

“oh! eren- oh my god.”

his lips pepper kisses all over your exposed skin, nipping at spots before kissing over the pain. hands roam down to your thighs, giving them tight grips before sliding down the couch.

eyes latched onto each other, you can’t help but to whine.

“please eren.”

this was the first time in years you’ve felt this strong of an attraction towards someone else. crazy for it to be eren of all people.

“please, what?” he’s slowly tugging at the drawstrings of the shorts you wore. eyes locked on you with a burning passion. sitting up against the arm of the couch, your shorts make it to the other side of the room.

your jaw is wide , eren hissing when you tug at his long brown locks. the moment he’s sliding his middle fingers into your burning core, stretching you open as his thumb slowly teases your clit. his body proceeding lower, all you can feel is slight gust of air hitting your cunt. his lips wrap gently around the swollen bud, sucking agonizingly slow, saliva and slick stick to the man’s face. he hums into your taste, wrapping his arms around the base of your thighs. he laid fully out on the couch.

instantly, you’re falling apart. moans breaking out in short whimpers and high gasps, grinding into his palm and nose. feeling his tongue slip inside your clenching hole, only to add two of his slender fingers.

his fingers scissor up into your throbbing cunt, hitting your sweet spot.

“babyy” you whimper, barely able to get anything out with the man’s face devouring you below. eyes closed in euphoria and concentration. hands interlocked into his head full of hair, your moans grow louder.

“doin’ such a good fuckin’ job, princess.”

feeling how he used his thumbs to spread open your pussy, using his tongue to penetrate your clenching hole. his tongue dips into you, coating his tongue in your cum, before coming back out and circling your swollen bud. the repetitive sensation sends you into a fit of louder moans, enticing the man to keep going.

“oh! ba- fu,fuck eren! im fucking c-“ the pressure builds, coiling tighter in your abdomen until you can't hold back anymore. not even when you’re cumming all over the man’s face, does he stop. he wants more now. he needs more.

from the first day he saw you out by the water, he knew he wanted you for himself. he watched the way you interacted with the townsfolk and farm animals. how sexy you were effortlessly. walking around your grandparents farm with nothing but a bikini on and practically see through shorts.

he hated to see other men in town look at you. the way the old, decrepit men would sit in the farmers markets and watch you browse around. whispering to each other while you naively chose your fruits and vegetables.

he didn’t want to share you with anyone.

his body jolts to a standing position, with ease he’s dipping down to pick you up off the couch. a large wet spot decorated the leather where you lie. he’s carrying you over his shoulder down the narrow hallway of the house.

“where we goin’?” you ask, eyes low and hazy.

you make it to the well decorated room. posters and band prints scattered on the wall , a radio sat in the corner, humming random songs from the station eren left it on. his bed was royal blue and well kept.

that was until you were being pounded into the bed.

you nails grip for anything they can reach. digging straight into the bed set, while his throbbing cock dips in and out of you. he has your right leg thrown over his shoulder, hands pinned to your waist as he draws out. face twisting in pleasure. his dick coated in the slippery substance, a faint white line forming the base of his cock as he moves in and out of you repeatedly .

“makin’ such a mess on me. pretty fuckin girl.”

he waste no time, throwing your other leg over his shoulder, locking you in as he quickens his pace. shallow breaths escape his mouth, eyes locked in concentration. you’re stuck with your mouth in an -o- shape as the man pounds you relentlessly. with a swift pull out, he taps against your side.

“on your knees, princess.”

on all fours, he wastes no time reinserting himself, bottoming out while his nails dig into the supple skin on your waist. the sound of skin slapping together and the wet squelches of your abused cunt bounce off the walls, filling your ears.

“i’ve wanted you for so long, you’re so good to me- fuck!”

the more your honey coated words fall from your lips, the more the man wants to ruin you. he wants to see you beg for him. he needed to have it.

pulling your arms from under you, he pins them to your back, locking you in an unforgiving arch. he feeds you slow, agonizing pleasing, strokes. loved watching the way your pussy desperately gripped around him as he pulled out.

trying your hardest to escape the abuse of your cervix, you try to pull away, only to receive a fire fueled spank on your ass.

“take this dick, baby. you had all that mouth ‘member? you can do it, i know ya can.”

his pace quickens, yearning for your release. the only thing you can form is small gasps of air as the man shows no mercy on your smaller frame.

“eren! oh shit- im cumming again ple-“

he releases your hands, using his free hand to rub at your clit as he continued fucking into you.

your body goes limp, clear liquid spewing out onto the man’s blankets. he flips you back over, eyes dark and full of hunger still.

“gimme just one more? please, honey. she just so good.”

folded into a middle split off the bed wasn’t something you ever thought you could do. yet here you were, on your back, eren standing in front of you, holding your legs apart.

his hips roll into yours, digging at your inside slowly. head tilted to the side, eyebrows furrowed and eyes low. your hands hold onto his muscular forearm, trying to keep grounded as the man was wearing you out.

with a few more thrust, he pulls out. long white ropes decorate his chest.

“you’re something special, yn.”

-

after your grandparents had gone into town for their usual errands, you find yourself at the edge of the lake, hidden in the soft embrace of the willow trees. the faint glow of fireflies flickers in the warm spring air, and the world feels still, like it’s holding its breath for what’s to come. eren’s there before you, waiting, leaning against a tree with a smile that always makes your stomach flip.

“thought you’d never show up,” he teases, his voice low and smooth, like it’s a secret only meant for you. his eyes flicker over you, and the corner of his mouth pulls into a crooked grin.

“you just like being dramatic,” you reply, though you can feel the flutter in your chest as you walk closer, the pull between you too strong to ignore.

he steps forward, closing the space between you, and before you can say anything else, his lips are on yours. quick, soft, the kind of kiss that leaves you breathless. it’s always like this, quick, a rush of feeling that neither of you can seem to contain. he pulls away just as quickly, his forehead resting against yours, breath mingling with yours in the cool night air.

“you’re insane.” you whisper, though you can’t hide the smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

he grins, taking your hand and guiding you down the worn path toward the lake. the grass brushes against your bare legs, soft and cool under the fading light. the blanket he’s spread out by the water is a patchwork of colors. faded reds and yellows that look almost too bright against the darkening sky.

you settle down beside him, the scent of wildflowers heavy in the air. the lake reflects the dimming stars, the quiet ripples in the water mirroring the racing of your heart.

“y’know. ive been havin’ a lot of fun with you.” he playfully nudges your body, rocking you to the side.

“i know. imma miss you, country boy.” the fake southern accent rolled off your tongue sarcastically. although the tone was funny, something about erens aura shifted.

“what’s up? why’ve you gone all quiet?” you ask, eyes fixated on the male. the moonlight illuminated his face, exposing every freckle, unshaven parts of his face, and his eyes locked onto yours.

“i jus’ really don’t wanna let you go, princess.”

“don’t go all sappy on me now. i’ll visit when i can, you know that right?” he just nods, taking a drink of the beer he had before your arrival. the air was thick and warm, your knees pressed together, watching the water reflect the bedazzled night sky as eren just shuffles in his spot.

“yn, promise ya wont forget me?”

“eren-“ you try to stop the conversation before it happens. instead ending up in a tight hug from the man. his arms latch around your waist, head resting over your shoulder.

“im serious, yn. i ain’t ever felt this way for nobody.” pulling away, all you can see is his bright green eyes burning into yours.

“how could i ever?”

you lean in, your free hand brushing against his jaw as you kiss him. it’s slow, deliberate, and familiar, yet it feels new in the way it sends warmth flooding through you.

his hand comes up to cup the back of your neck, his touch firm but gentle as he deepens the kiss, like he’s trying to hold onto the moment for as long as he can. the world around you fades. the quiet lap of the water against the shore, the soft hum of the crickets. until there’s nothing but him.

when you finally pull back, your foreheads rest together, your breaths mingling in the cool night air. eren’s thumb brushes over the curve of your jaw, and his lips curl into a small, almost sheepish smile.

“you ever thought about visiting the city?”

© vantetaes. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarize any of my works. ageless/blank blogs dni.

random inspo pics at the bottom? yes!

[fangxin-guoshi]

Aot characters as textposts pt 10 (I think...?)

[klamv-art]

👾|| Armin ||👾

I asked for some outfit suggestions on Twitter to draw Armin on and these were the results jeje

[lustychan]

Thinking about sub-boys, no matter how much you overstimulate them and how much they cry, they still crave more of it even if it hurts. Sub-boys who are attached to your hips and are desperate for you all the time and constantly want your attention on them and not on anyone else. Sub boys who value your pleasure and will eat you out like it's their last meal. 

Aether,TAKEMICHI,Mikey,Yuji,Yuta,Armin,Tamaki SOUYA, CHOSO

[bloodchapell]

he loves to hear you yap - armin a.

brief summary: just thinking about how cute armin is and him loving to listen to EVERY word you say

what to expect: alt and very nerdy reader, equally nerdy armin, mutual pinning

your sword’s note: really just thinking of how attentive and good of a listener he would be and I ACHE for it. all past and future parts of this au series available in my mistresslist

A month or so had passed since the semester started. Normally after philosophy class you would go to the library with Armin. He had convinced you to play Minecraft and you had convinced him to play Dress to Impress.

“Agh!!!” You screamed and turned off your iPad.

“Shut the hell up!” Pieck, your roommate, yelled at you.

“Sorry I forgot that not all of us have to wake up at 6 am to deliver a calf…” You apologized and she sighed.

“I will say the same when you are trying to finish up some jacket or whatever it is that fashion designers do.” She joked half asleep. “Why did you scream either way? The Sleeping Beauty nightmare again?”

“That is a very serious nightmare!” You argued. “No it wasn’t that, Armin just gifted me VIP in Dress to Impress…”

“That is so cute… now get married and let me go back to sleep, that 75 pound baby calf isn’t going to deliver itself.”

<WHATTT THANKS MIN😭> you. 2:47 am

<YPU DIDNT HAVE TO YOURE SO SWEET> you. 2:47 am

<It’s okay! I just really liked your vkei theme outfit and was very conflicted when seeing that you didn’t win… They really should made an “only pros” server, these people do not know what vkei is.> armin 👼🏼. 2:48 am

That made you laugh. He had only learned about vkei the day before, when you guys hanged out and he asked what vkei entailed.

After some more rounds of playing, you decided it was time to go to sleep, you said good night to Armin and left the electronics in the table by your bed. But before you could actually fall asleep your mind stared thinking about Armin. The wandering thoughts regarding the blonde would fall like a current that cannot be stopped, the way in which his hands would softly write in his notebook and his handwriting was so small and dainty, the way in which his slender fingers would hold the black pen, the way he would always pay attention and participate in class, his comments always so educated, organized and concise, like he had some inside knowledge and some inside understanding about it all; yes he was a little timid regarding social interactions, but when it came to scholarly matters, he was an eminence and his words would flow out of his pretty plump pale pink lips like it was just any other topic. He was so smart and so attractive when rambling about the ambiguity of morals and religion and science and politics, his bangs and longish hair framing his face and his lashes deepening the gaze of his eyes. Goddamnit was he handsome.

“Is Malice Mizer not on Spotify?” With his phone in hand Armin asked in class the next day, following like a robot Eren’s recommendations on how to behave normally when having such a fat crush.

“How do you know that?” You asked whispering in class.

“I liked the songs you showed me.” He mentioned still holding his phone. Your heart almost ran out of your chest when hearing that; not only he he understood vkei fashion to know that the fellow Dress to Impress players were ass, but was also interested in it beyond what you had explained.

And he was interested, not only because he would have the opportunity to have a topic of conversation with you, but because he trusted in your judgement so much that he understood that if you liked vkei as a subculture, it was for a valid and good reason and therefore he must check it out.

“Yeah sadly they are not in Spotify… I can recommend you some other bands if you want though.” You said and he nodded immediately, saying he would be delighted. You typed Sito Magus, SHAZNA, Gulu Gulu, Kaya and MEJIBRAY on his notes app. “Some of them can be a little heavy, I don’t know if you like that.”

“I don’t mind.” He smiled sweetly; he didn’t really mind because he was used to Eren and Mikasa blasting death black evil obscure metal.

Armin was trying his absolute best to not dissolve into a mass of anxiety and embarrassment, he kept thinking about every recommendation Eren gave him and even though sometimes it seemed like nothing he could do was powerful enough to mask his feelings, he trusted logic and knew that up to a point it could work.

"You said you had a playlist with all your favorite songs ever right? Can we listen to them together while you explain to me why you like them maybe?" He asked impulsively without stopping to think, almost immediately regretting the request before seeing your eyes glimmering like eyes do in cartoons and seeing you nod. Truth be told he was also fascinated with the way you spoke about your interests, you were so passionate and analytic of the things you liked that he could be convinced to do almost anything if you described it like you do with the things you love.

So after class you invite him to your dorm and you both sit on the carpeted floor while you go over every song and he listens to your comments and tries to hear the songs as beautifully as you do.