#it’s a little too loud at the girl scout meeting to read | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

the-writers-bookshelf · 2 years ago

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This may be a bit too dark/mature for an all ages blog so if you can't publish it or read it I totally understand, but if you can, I would love any feedback you have!

Content warnings are: stalking, abduction, murder, animal kidnapping (no animals are hurt), implied cannibalism, violence, and blood.

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It starts with a bouquet of flowers.

Clarice smiles as she sees them. Tumbles of reds, purples, and whites contrast with simple yet elegant glass. She runs her gunpowder smudged fingers over the petals.

Scout, a rumpled former street dweller of a Thai cat, jumps up onto the table and rubs her cheek against Clarice's hand. She sniffs at a closed white bud in a separate pot with interest until Clarice picks her up. For a second she grumbles, then presses her head against Clarice's neck and purrs loud enough to vibrate in Clarice's bones.

"Hello to you too, darling," Clarice murmurs, pressing a kiss to Scout's head. "Aren't these just lovely? Who knew she's such a romantic."

She examines the white bud, marvelling at the delicate stem and petals. The soil around it is moist as if just watered. She's tempted to try and peel back the bud to open it, but decides to wait for it to bloom.

When Ardelia comes in through the door an hour or two later, Clarice is wearing nothing at all. She pulls the stunned woman close and kisses her rain-slick mouth. Soon Ardelia wears nothing at all too.

The next hour is lost in a haze of moving limbs and hungry kisses. After they scream each other's names, they lie on the bed, glowing with sweat and pleasure. Ardelia wraps an arm around Clarice and kisses her until they're both breathless.

"I'm not complaining, but what brought this on?" Ardelia asks.

"The flowers," Clarice says. "I didn't know you were such a romantic."

Ardelia frowns. "I couldn't afford to get you those. They look like they cost a month's rent."

"But they were on the table."

"Because you got them." Ardelia studies her. "Right?"

Clarice doesn't say anything. Her mind follows trains of thought she doesn't want to approach yet can't help but reach for. Dark waits for her at the end of the tracks. Dark and danger.

Ardelia touches her shoulder. "What are you working on with Agent Crawford?" she asks.

Clarice looks into her lover's eyes and smiles. "The wrap up to the Gumb case," she lies.

And from the look in Ardelia's eyes, she knows it.

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

"Flowers, huh?" Jimmy Price sniffs at the vase on the metal autopsy table. "They're pretty little pollen dispensers. You're going to make me need Benadryl, and then how am I going to get anything done?"

Clarice shrugs from her spot near the computer. "You managed to identify a moth from the cocoon," she says. "And took fingerprints from an eyeball. You're Jimmy Price. You can do anything."

"Except deal with flowers," he says, then sneezes. The wind just misses the delicate white bud. "Sorry, Starling. I avoid them like the plague."

"What's like the plague?" Zeller asks, walking into the lab with two coffees.

Jimmy brightens and takes one. "Flowers. Can't stand the pollen."

Zeller looks over at the vase and whistles. "Holy hell, Starling, that's quite a bouquet. Got a beau we don't know about?"

Clarice smiles, brushing back a bit of her hair. "It's from Ardelia."

"Oh, yeah, I know her," Zeller says. "Tall, pretty, totally out of everyone's league."

"That's her."

"Nice," Jimmy says.

He holds out his hand and Clarice high fives it. Zeller drifts closer to the flowers, peering at them. After a moment, he pulls away with a frown.

"You say Mapp got you these?" he asks.

"Yeah," Clarice says, meeting his eyes.

"Huh. Weird."

"Why?"

"If I didn't know better, I'd say these were from some kind of stalker."

"Oh, come on, Zee," Jimmy says. "What do you know about flowers?"

"For your information, I studied flower languages from around the world."

"*Why*?"

The tips of Zeller's ears go red. "I was trying to impress a girl," he mutters.

Jimmy grins. "Did it work?"

"Go to hell, Jimmy."

"Zee," Clarice says softly.

Zeller points to the flowers. "You've got red tulips, hyacinths, and bridal flowers," he says. "Red tulips represent the fire of love and the burnt heart in the middle. Hyacinths used to represent a possessive, all consuming love in France. And the bridal flowers do what they say."

"And the one in the pot?" Clarice asks.

Zeller leans over to look at it. "It's a moon flower," he says at last. "They bloom once in their life, and then they die."

"When will it bloom?"

"I don't know, but it looks close. Maybe a week?"

Clarice crosses her arms. There is a trap closing around her. This is a warning; she still has a small chance to escape.

Jimmy says, "What does Jack have you working on now?"

Clarice smiles, quick and tight. "Filing," she lies.

She's used to it by now.

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She can't bring herself to throw the flowers away. So she dries most of the flowers and presses them into a notebook. The moon flower bud she puts in the centre of her table. It gets water; it gets sunlight. She cares for it.

One day she comes home and finds the moon flower in a different place. Scout's food bowl is filled with thin slices of raw meat. There's a red rose tied with a white satin bow on her pillow.

She stops inviting Ardelia over and installs a deadbolt. The next night, she comes home to find dinner and the deadbolt on her kitchen table. Scout rubs against her legs and purrs. There's blood around her mouth.

Clarice throws the dinner away and sleeps curled up in her overstuffed arm chair facing the door. It's a fitful, disturbed sleep punctuated by the intermittent buzzing of phone calls. One time she catches the caller before they can hang up on her.

"I know who you are," she tells the silence on the other end. "I'm not going to stop looking." She waits a beat before twisting the knife. "For *her*."

There's a quick intake of air that lets her know she's hit her mark. Then the line goes dead. It stays dead for the rest of the night.

She spends the next day jumping at every small sound. The third time it happens, she drops her coffee with a small shriek. It splashes hot on her ankles.

Jack eyes her and orders her to go home. They've been working too hard. He's been pushing her too much. There's a fatherly gleam in his eye as he tells her that she can call him any day, any time, for anything.

She forces a smile, showing her dimples, and says she'll call. The promise rings hollow even to her ears. But Jack smiles back, and that should be the end of it.

Should be. But she wakes up in the middle of the night to a pounding heart and sweat dripping down her forehead. Bleating lambs fill the eerie silence. She reaches for her phone, unlocks it, and opens the unread message notification.

It's a picture of her, sleeping, from just a moment ago.

She jumps to her feet. She grabs her gun from under her pillow. Adrenaline pumps through her veins. Her breaths come in quick, quiet gasps.

From room to room she goes, chasing shadows and small sounds, still in her underwear and tank top. Each room is undisturbed. The moon flower bud sits in the middle of her kitchen table. The petals are just starting to peel back to bloom.

When she's sure no one else is in her house with her, she calls Jack. It isn't until he answers the phone, voice groggy with sleep, that she realises Scout is missing.

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Early on in their professional relationship, she learns that Jack Crawford doesn't yell. Not if he can help it. He doesn't need to; he wields his bulk the same way some men wield a gun.

So when he faces her in her house, crime scene investigators crawling all over every inch like ants, she's surprised when he shouts:

"How could you keep this from me?"

Everyone comes to a halt. All eyes focus on Clarice. She refuses to shrink away even though she feels like clawing off her skin. The last person who yelled at her like that —

She refuses to think about him. Not now. Not while the lambs are still screaming.

"I thought it would stop," Clarice says. She draws her blanket around her. "I wanted it to stop."

"If you really wanted it to stop, you would have told me."

"That's not fair."

"Not fair?" He's shouting again. He gets close, a bull who saw red. "What's *unfair* is an agent I'm responsible for keeping secrets from me."

She stands. "I'm not your responsibility," she snaps.

"While you work for me, you are."

"I'm not your *daughter*!" She shouts right back at him. "And I'm not Will Graham!"

Zeller sucks in a breath somewhere behind her. There's a flurry of activity as all the ant-like forensics investigators scatter. Soon only she and Jack are left behind.

His shoulders fall. "I know who you are, Starling, and I know who you're not. What you're not." He rubs his head. "I just don't want to add you to the list of people that they've hurt."

"You won't," she says.

"I know, because I'm taking you off the case."

"You can't be serious!"

"I'm deadly serious. They were in your house, Starling."

She falls back into her seat."I told them I won't stop looking," she says. "I'm telling you the same thing."

"You're not going to find it easy to do from a safehouse with a police escort breathing down your neck," Jack says, and there's a core of steel in his voice.

Clarice groans. "No way."

"It's procedure, Starling, you know that. When we catch them—"

"You haven't been able to catch them up until now. What makes you think you can do it this time?"

She's sorry as soon as she says it. Jack flinches and covers it by adjusting his jacket. For a moment, she sees the scar on his neck. Then he covers it with his hand.

"This isn't a request. It's an order." He pulls out his phone and starts dialling. "Pack your bags. I'm going to have someone I trust take you to the safe house."

She doesn't move. "What about Ardelia?"

"We'll have officers on Mapp," he says, already walking away.

"And my cat?"

He stops. A strange expression comes over his face. It's like he's stepped back in time, to another house with another person. The look he gives her is unfathomable, but Clarice can somehow feel his heartache.

"Out of all of us, your cat is the safest," he says. "He wouldn't hurt it."

Clarice's lips twist. "How noble."

Jack smiles sadly, and then he's gone.

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

A few days pass with her trapped in the safe house. Her baby sitter changes every eight hours. She likes Randy the best, with his youthful face and twinkling blue eyes. He's always ready for a laugh.

The moon flower sits in the middle of the dining table because she couldn't leave it behind. She wants — no, has to see it bloom. It remains closed as if waiting for some hidden cue.

Randy strolls into the kitchen a week and a day since she's been put in the safe house. He sets a pie in front of her with a flourish. Even before she can get a good look at it, the warm smell of baked peaches hits her. Her mouth waters.

"Your girlfriend made it," he says. "She said to tell you that you're her favourite Georgia peach."

Clarice can't help the smile that steals over her. It's a peace offering after the terrible fight they had before she came to the safe house. Ardelia's way of forgiving.

"Her peach pie is the best," Clarice says. "But what would make it even better is vanilla ice cream."

"I think we finished that while watching that movie the other day. Seems like our pie is going to be lonely."

"It doesn't have to be."

She draws intricate designs on the table. Randy watches her, his brow creasing with concern. He can't be more than twenty. Clarice leans forward and drops her voice.

"It would just be a quick ride into town. No one would ever know."

"I would," Randy says. "It's my job if something happens to you, Agent Starling."

"Nothing's going to happen." She rolls her eyes upwards. "It's just ice cream, Randy. How many people get abducted over ice cream?"

She can see his resolve crumbling. "Please?" she adds, injecting just enough girlish hope into her voice. "I'll let you pick out the movie tonight."

"All right," Randy says. "It's just ice cream. Not like I'm taking you out to the movies."

The drive is quick, picking out the ice cream even quicker. As she pays, Randy hovers over her shoulder, his hand on his gun. They head back to the parking lot when Clarice hears a plaintive meow from underneath the convenience store garbage dump.

"Agent Starling," Randy says as she heads over. "We can't stop."

"It's a helpless cat, Randy," she says over her shoulder. "I'm not going to just leave it."

She places the ice cream down and crouches beside it. Two blue eyes stare back at her. The cat growls when she puts her hand out for it to sniff.

"I won't hurt you," she says.

Slowly, the cat creeps out from the dark. Clarice's lips part as she takes in the familiar face. Scout sniffs her then starts purring louder than an engine.

Realisation hits her like lightning. She starts to turn around. Randy's name is all tangled up behind her lips, the warning straining to be screamed and yet she can't make a sound.

There's an awful cracking noise just as she finishes turning, and Randy drops to the ground. His neck is twisted. His eyes are lifeless. The sharp, unpleasant scent of urine fills the air.

Standing over his body, looking down almost as if surprised to find it there, is a man Clarice feels like she's known forever.

Scout hisses and curls up close to Clarice's legs, almost tripping her as she tries to stumble away. Hannibal watches her, a smile making its way along his face. If it wasn't for the dead body between them, he might have been a friendly stranger.

But he isn't. He's the worst kind of monster. Clarice presses her lips together and fights to reclaim her courage.

Hannibal's gaze shifts to a point behind her. Before she can react, she's trapped in a bear hug with a hand placed over her mouth and nose. Caught in an exhale, she struggles to breathe, clawing at her assailant.

There's a grunt as she catches exposed skin and tears. Blood gathers under her nails. The hand on her nose lowers enough to let her draw in a quick breath. Then it drops to her neck and squeezes until she feels her windpipe buckle from the pressure.

Her world starts to go grey. She stops scratching at thick wool, reserving the last of her air. Slowing down brings her attention to the thick, corded muscles holding her in place. How she's moulded to the chest of her assailant as it rises and falls with his breaths.

Men abducting a woman from a dark parking lot. It's all so *human* somehow. Banal.

The hand around her neck stops squeezing. His muscles slacken. Clarice lets her eyes flutter as she catches her breath. Through the slits of her eyelids she can see Hannibal studying her with open amusement. He says nothing, does nothing, not even when she jerks her head forwards and slams it back onto Will's face.

Nose cartilage breaks against the back of her head. Will lets out a strangled yowl and throws her to the ground. Clarice lands face first, her chin smacking into concrete. She narrowly avoids biting her tongue in half.

While Will reels back, holding his nose, she crawls to Randy's body and reaches for his gun. She almost touches it when Hannibal brings his foot down on her hand. Bones crunch; she inhales to scream.

He's on her before she can get the sound out, trapping it in her lungs. He squeezes her neck with both hands, veins jumping. Clarice scratches at him to no avail. All the while, his breathing remains even. His expression calm. He chokes the life out of her and doesn't even break a sweat.

The last thing she sees is Will bending down and coaxing Scout into his arms. Then she's swept away into the black. Bleating lambs wait for her there, their screams sounding so, so human.

At the safe house, the moon flower blooms.

submitted by @uttermywish

***

Listen, babe, I need to settle into a giant epic saga's worth of book with this concept because I'm...WOW. That was INCREDIBLE. WHAT A ROLLER-COASTER!!!

Right from the start, I could TASTE the atmosphere. And you just kept adding layers until it felt like a surreal dream.

Amazing job!!!! Keep up the incredible work! :)

#asks #fab friday writers #uttermywish

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inazuman · 3 years ago

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we find solace in each other

Word count: 5338 Content and warnings: Levi Ackerman x Reader, reader is fembodied, no pronouns are used for reader, mostly smut but there is some plot, you used to be on levi’s team when he was in the underground and you’re the only one who didn’t join the survey corps w him, he returns to the underground every once in a while and sees you again, just nice fluffy smut no crazy kinks or anything, levi calls you good girl, he holds your wrists together once, i only use “Y/N” once towards the end Notes: not proof read, find it on ao3 here, i’m p :) about this heheh Networks: @http-404-error-unknown , @planetonet

Levi doesn't return to the Underground much, but every once in a while he goes back.

Sometimes it's to see if he can find Kenny, once to investigate the ODM gear being illegally sold there, and sometimes he just wants to see if maybe there's another life he can salvage.

But in the twists and turns he takes, his hooded form sees someone he hasn't seen in years,

you.

The only member of his team that didn't come with him to join the Scouts. You weren't much on fighting, but your charming personality and good looks helped his team get places and things that they couldn't. It made everything easier: getting the ODM gear, stealing cash, softening favours.

He's glad to see you're still alive, still working at the tavern he used to frequent, with your hair flowing and chest heaving with laughter. Still strong and healthy. That's what mattered to him. From the way you were talking to whoever else, he could still see the shine in your eyes. His eyes softened at the sight of you.

When he sees you, he feels a little bit of the Underground come back to him, a little bit of who he was. Youthful and fearless, without the burden of loss bearing on his shoulders.

He's glad to see your schedule is still the same as always, maybe things don't change that much, and you should be leaving right about now. You head out through the door of the dark side alleyway, you wave goodbye to your work friends. And something compels him to move.

As you hear the door shut behind you, you're suddenly pushed up against the wall by a hooded figure. You're about to fight when suddenly you recognise him, first by scent and then-

"Miss me?"

You gasp at the sound of his low voice so close to your ear. Levi?

You don't realize you've said it out loud until you're looking at his face, eyes flitting across his features. He’s still the Levi you know, a little worse for wear as he’s gotten older. Your gaze meets his eyes, and he looks… sad. Like he’s holding the world on his shoulders.

You’ve seen this look on him too many times before. You cup your hands around his face, run your fingers over his jaw, and he leans into it, leans his forehead against yours.

He grips his hands tighter around your waist, and you're suddenly hyperaware of how he has you, up against the wall with his face so close to yours. He moves his thigh to come between yours, lifting you up slightly against the wall with a gasp, friction feeling delectable against your core. The haze of arousal mixed with the surprise of seeing a man you haven't seen in years fogs your mind completely, making you stutter as you get the words out.

"Levi? How- how are you here? How have you been? I-"

And then your fingers are running through the hair on his forehead like they have so many times before. You wrap your hands around his jaw tight, pulling him towards you, fingers grazing his cheeks. You're looking up at him with pupils wide, full of concern and adoration and surprise.

And maybe more of the Underground had come back to him this time than he thought, making him more susceptible to urges like this, back when he allowed himself to indulge like this.

Because he can't take it anymore, he tilts his head and closes the space, sliding his lips over yours.

They feel soft as ever before, pillowy against your own. He feels like home, and that's all you can think as you close your eyes and wrap your arms around his neck. His hands move up your neck to your jaw, holding your face closer to his. He kisses you like he could convey years’ worth of what he’s gone through, as if he could explain his emotions through it. I’ve lost so much. The world is not what we thought it was.

I’m happy you’re here. I’m happy you’re alive.

He can’t help it, he just can't get enough of you. He wants you closer, hasn't felt this kind of need in years. Your tongue grazes his, and his mind goes blank, completely focused on the way his tongue is tracing over yours. He runs the tip of his tongue over the back of your teeth, eliciting a soft sound from you, making him smile. He's glad this sensitive spot is still the same, are the others the same too? Have they changed?

He's desperate to know.

He pulls away from you reluctantly to catch his breath, both of you breathing hard already. He tastes like peppermint, and it makes you smile, glad to see some things don't change.

"Levi-"

"I-" he starts, but he doesn't know how to say it. I missed you is what he wants to say, but it gets stuck in his throat like honey. He moves his hand to your waist, runs his thumb over your stomach, as if he could tell you by touch.

It's all too familiar. You think you know what he means.

"Is your place still near here?" he says instead, grimacing internally at how desperate he must sound once he's already said it. But it's you, and you laugh, you've always been understanding of him.

"Yeah, one floor up though," you beam at him, revealing to him that you've finally able to procure the apartment you really wanted, that you always talked about with a small balcony and a bath.

He smiles wide at the discovery, chuckling openly -- Walls, when did he get so open with his emotions? Something in you makes him so giddy like he was when he was younger. He grabs your face in both hands before kissing you again.

"Let's go, then."

And he takes your hand, wraps your arm over his shoulders, grabs you tightly around your waist so you're flushed against him. He clicks the trigger of his ODM gear, your heart skips a beat at the sound with your eyes only on each other. He clicks it again, and you're both flying across the top of the Underground.

You let out an exhilarating sigh as you watch the lights zoom past you, heart dropping and soaring again as he navigates you both down and then back up.

Your joy is intoxicating, makes him forget the weight the gear usually brings, makes him laugh as he watches your reaction with it.

As you descend down to the front of the house, Levi lets you down gently, holding you closely to make sure you stand okay.

You lead him upstairs, his hands on your waist and lips kissing down your neck as you open the door.

He's marveled at the sight of your place as the lights turn on, glad to see the Underground hasn't dimmed you or your sense of taste in any way. He drops his cape and ODM gear near the door, sitting at the bench there to take off his shoes and unwrap the footed part of his harness gear.

"So, it's Captain Levi now, huh?" you ask with a giggle as he unlatches the rest of his harness off his body, drunk off the feeling of being together again.

Levi smiles shyly, responding with a soft "yeah" and a quiet laugh, standing to take you in his hands once more.

This time the kiss is soft, sensual, has your toes curling as his body is warm against yours, hard planes of his body fitting just right against yours. You feel the muscle he's put on as your hand roams over his shoulders, down his back, then up his neck again, pushing you closer towards him. He nips your lower lip a little in response, making you let out a little squeal.

You walk backwards into the bedroom, and at the sight of the bed in the corner of his eye, Levi wraps his strong hands under your thighs and you wrap them around his waist, feeling the beginnings of his hard length between your legs.

He rests you down on the bed graciously, looking at your beauty underneath him. Your hair fans away from your face, smile evident and cheeks flushed. Your pretty skirt has slid up your thigh, his hand playing with the hem of it. He watches the way your chest moves as you breathe, swears he can see your pulse point moving under his gaze.

He knows he has lost whatever constraint and poker-face he has built up over the years the moment he had you in his arms again. He knows you see his emotion bare on his face right now.

And yet he can’t help himself, because he has never seen anyone more beautiful than you in this moment.

He feels guilty, almost. That he gets to indulge in such pleasures.

You see the conflict on his face, and raise to your knees to cup his face in your hands.

“We don’t have to do this,” you say softly.

He closes his eyes to fully embrace your warmth, inhaling your sweet scent.

“I’m happy just to see you. I don’t know what has happened, but Levi, you are allowed to have good things.”

He squeezes your arms in his hold, tight, eyebrows scrunching in the middle at your words. He opens his eyes, watches your worried eyes fill with something that could only be described as love. He must have the same look in his eyes, he thinks.

He closes the space between you both. He allows himself to have this good thing. He allows himself to indulge.

You pull him down onto the bed with you and he obliges, never one to hold out from you for too long. He feels like his soul is entangled in yours, like his heart knows it has been apart from you for too long. His arms fall on either side of you, caging you in as he kisses you deeply, his weight resting over you bringing you comfort. He kisses you deeply, kisses up and down your jaw, runs his tongue over the top of your ear, nibbles on the lobe just a little. You gasp at the sudden sensation, and he makes his way down. He wants to taste every inch of you, have his body have touched every part of you, and you wish you could burn this feeling into your skin.

He kisses you down your neck, teeth nipping at your pulse point, feeling you arch into him, your hands pulling at his hair. He lays wet kisses along the length of your collarbone, then lifts himself up by the hands on your waist to straddle you. His fingers reach under your midriff, thumb swiping over the soft skin there, causing the hem to raise up. The sliver of skin that exposes catches his breath, and all but fuck courses through his brain.

He knows he’s had you before, but this feels familiar yet different. He feels like he’s seeing you again for the first time but again, it’s indescribable to him. He lifts your shirt up to expose more of your torso to him, breath catching as he reveals your bra, runs his thumbs around the band on each side.

And then he can’t take it more, he has to see more of you. He lifts the shirt off of you, and you raise your arms to help him, running your hands under the hem of the bottom of his shirt to feel the soft skin and hard muscle underneath. The feeling of your gentle fingers runs a shiver through him, makes him stutter as he takes the palms of his hands to the underside of your breasts and squeezes them together. You hands splay over his chest under his shirt, letting them roam over the hard planes and the scarred tissue underneath, exposing the skin to yourself as you take it off him.

He places a kiss between your breasts, another one on each mound, lets his tongue lather over the skin there, listens to your soft gasps at the sensation. His hands travel down, reaching up under your skirt, the soft touch of his fingers skating up your legs, bunching the skirt material around your waist. He can’t help but trail this fingers over your skin in smooth circles, the rough pads gripping lightly at your flesh. He moves to remove the skirt from you, your hips raising as he brings it down. And for a moment, he’s kneeling on the bed with you underneath him in all your glory, and his breath stops at the sight.

In this wretched world, Levi can't say he knows what love is, but he thinks it feels like this. Like skating the back of his hand over the soft skin of your thighs, listening to your breath hitch as his fingers splay over the junction of your thigh. Like watching you, flushed-face and breath uneasy, consumed by the thought of having you.

He moves down to kiss you again, hands gripping rougher at your thighs, making himself at home between your legs. He is slow, attentive, giving every inch your body the worship it deserves. He kisses your shoulder before moving the bra strap down, fingers smoothing over where the material was, and does the same with the other side. Every movement feels precise, smooth, like river water streaming over stones. He runs his fingers over the edge of your bra cup, then follows the movement with his mouth, laying kisses over the skin, and you can feel your slick drip between your legs.

He wants to take his time to observe, to place kisses for each moment he hasn’t been here for you. His hands wrap behind you to undo the clasp, and his eyes grow wide as he drops the material to the floor. He tentatively licks the now-exposed bud, wetting it before wrapping his mouth around it, and you immediately run your nails into the base of his scalp as you arch your back into him. It’s like a song, the push and pull of his body into yours. He does the same with the other nipple, the wet nipple bare to the air, and you swear you can feel yourself getting wetter between your legs.

He lays wet kisses down your torso as he descends down your body, hands skimming over your sides as he makes his way to the edge of your underwear, thumbing over the material. He lets his mouth do the talking as he kisses there too, moving the band off you and letting it snap back to your skin. Your thighs clench at the feeling of having his mouth so close to where you need him, even after all these years you still remember the exquisite things he’s capable of with his tongue. He glides his fingers over the sensitive area at the junction of your thighs on each side, watching and listening to your sharp inhales. He places a thumb right at the darkened, wet spot of your underwear, over your entrance, and swipes his thumb up to your clit, making you moan in response.

He kisses your inner thigh before sliding the material down your legs, noting the slick between the legs and on your underwear, and feeling himself getting harder at the sight of you. He discreetly palms himself over his pants for some relief, some friction despite wanting to give you the adoration you deserve. He runs his lips up your inner thigh, breath hovering over your core, and you brace yourself for the sensation, hands gripping his arms that are wrapped around your thighs. He watches you intently pass his fringe, brown eyes warmly taking you in as he places a light kiss on your core, lifting your legs to bring them over his shoulders. You look down at him and you swear he’s looking at you with love, with a gentleness that he almost doesn’t recognize. He uses his fingers to gently spread your delicate flower open for him, making eye contact with you as he delves his tongue into your folds and slowly swipes it up to your clit.

It’s just one moment and you’re sold, nails digging into the skin of his strong arms, and he moans at the taste of you, collecting your slick on his tongue to savor the taste. He brings your legs up higher, spreads them wider, and slips his tongue up and down both labia before circling his tongue around your entrance. You almost forgot how good it feels to have him under you after all these years, and Levi falls into the rhythm with you all too easily, tongue protruding at your entrance and licking the inside of your walls, bringing the combination of slick and spit back up to your clit. He has you writhing underneath him, hands gripping you in place as he devours you whole, tongue swirling over the sensitive bundle of nerves, moaning into your cunt. He mumbles something along the lines of “tastes so good,” almost inaudible as it’s muffled into you.

“Levi, oh-” you try to say. You feel like you’re gasping for air, one strong stimulation after another, the feeling of his rough and wet tongue over your most sensitive parts. You intertwine your hands with his, and he grips both your hand and your thigh all at once as he splays you open for his contentment.

“What do we say?” he says roughly, voice coated with arousal and muffled by your cunt, you can almost hear the vibrations from his voice moving through you. You mewl at him, sputtering out “please, please, Levi,” incoherently, almost sobbing. He grunts into you, mouth latched onto your clit and softly sucking, making your back arch and your thighs tense around his hands and cheeks. He’s consumed by you, by the way your body is flushed and your breathing gets deep and hard as he adds a little more pressure. When you look down at him, you see warm honeyed eyes looking back at you, half-lidded with arousal, he looks satisfied.

You tilt your head back as your toes start to curl, feeling your peak approaching fast like waves crashing into you, his tongue varying between lapping at your clit with kitten licks and sucking on it for the pressure. Your hands squeeze his and your body tenses hard, you can hear your heartbeat in your ears as you come with a shout. Your slick gushes into his mouth as he moans happily and takes it, riding you through your high and not letting up from your clit. Your body stays tensed for what feels like almost a full minute before you finally feel like you can breathe again, deep breaths in, sweat beading at your brow. You whine when you realize he’s still swirling his tongue on your overly-sensitive clit, moving your body away from him and making him chuckle as he finally lets up with a smile, hand swiping at the remnants of your wetness on your chin.

“Levi,” you say, finally able to make out some words from your mouth, and you giggle a little deliriously at the handsome sight of him, soft skin and toned abs visible as he comes up to lay a soft kiss on your lips. You wrap your hands around the base of his scalp and deepen the kiss, pulling him down on top of you and reaching for the buttons of his pants, haphazardly unzipping them and slipping them down. He kicks them off himself and they land somewhere on the floor, his hands roaming down your body to cup your ass and wrap your legs around him. You can feel how hard he is and you moan at the feeling, your hand moving down to cover his clothed member and squeezing it, pressing your palm into it and earning you a deep groan from him as he removes his boxers from his body.

He’s almost embarrassed at the sound he lets out when your hand wraps around his bare member, pumping it up and down lightly. He takes your hand and moves it away from him, wrapping your wrists under his one large hand above your head as he positions himself between your legs. He runs his hand up and down your thigh, taking the hand around your wrists to instead spread your thighs for him once again. When he sees you don’t move your hands, he smiles sweetly, brushes the hair out of your face and comes down to your ear to whisper a soft “good girl”, voice rumbly and makes you drip between your legs. He aligns his dick at your entrance, moaning quietly as the head of it meets your wetness, brushing it up and down your slit. You whine at him, pussy still slightly sensitive but still wanting more, your heels pressing into his back as the head of it bumps into your clit.

He hovers over you, one hand on your waist to steady you and himself as he slides himself in slowly, groaning deeply even at just the feeling of you wrapped around his tip, sensitive from all the time he spent hard whilst teasing you with his tongue. Neither of you can think, breath catching and shallow. You feel the stretch of him already as he presses deeper, his eyes watching you closely at any sign of discomfort. He’s big, it’s all you can think. He slides out just a little before pressing back in again, your chest heaving, and he almost can’t resist with how wet and hot you are around him, exhaling a soft ”fuck”. He leans over you, brushing your hair and kissing your neck as he sheathes himself inside of you, and you gasp and mewl as you wrap your legs around him to push him deeper. You hear him groan into your neck, breath warm over your ear as he bottoms out, he places one final thrust into you until you feel his balls against your skin, tip brushing your cervix inside of you, and he sighs.

With cheeks and tips of his ears flushed a pretty pink, you can’t help but cup his face in yours to give him a deep kiss with him inside of you. He hums into the kiss, tongue swiping over your bottom lip, tracing over your tongue. When you let up, he smiles, and you smile back at him and giggle a little. He thinks you’re so cute, but doesn’t know the words to say it so he places a kiss on your forehead instead. He moves his hands down to your thighs, pressing down on the back of them so that your knees are pressed up against your chest, and then he thrusts.

You can feel him so deep inside of you as you let out a sob, and he thrusts again, the pace slow as he lets you get used to his size. He’s groaning over you, muttering a “feels so good” softly under his breath. He’s got one hand pressing into the headboard, the other wrapping around your neck gently, swiping his thumb over the marks he made before. He wants to watch you, wants to watch your face as you come apart, wants to feel your body tense under him and your pussy clench around his dick. The thought of it has him fucking into you faster, hot breath panting into each other, and he grips your face in one hand to kiss you hard again. The sound of skin slapping against each other is a background to his moans and your mewls that fill the air, and when he ducks his head down you can smell the masculine scent of his soap.

He trails his hand down to tweak at your nipple, making you squeal, before moving his hand down to your clit. You almost choke at the touch, he swipes his fingers to the base of where you’re both connected to collect your slick, then moving them to your clit to ease the friction. You wail into him, back arching as you feel yourself getting closer again. He thrums his fingers over your clit and feels the way your cunt clenches around his dick with each tap and rub, making him hiss a little with a sharp intake of breath.

“You gonna be a good girl and come for me, baby? Gonna come around my cock?” his voice is raspy, speaking into your ear. You nod helplessly, whines and sobs in between your words of “yes” and ”please” and “Levi” and he can’t take it, pistons into you harder, the hits on your cervix making you see stars and your brain stops working. He knows you’re close by the way your thighs are tensing around him, he would know it even if his eyes were closed, by the way your breaths came and your body shook. But he can’t take his eyes off of you, flushed-face and clinging desperately onto him, slick dripping all over his cock. He presses your thighs into your chest a little more, thumb stroking your clit rapidly until he feels your back arch and your legs clench hard.

The peak feels never-ending as he pushes you off it, only half-conscious of the wrecked sound you exhale as you come hard, head empty and ears ringing for what feels like almost a minute. You hear Levi’s rumbly groan above you as he empties into you, hot face dropping into the crook of your neck as you come down from your high. You’re both breathing hard into each other, bodies glistening with sweat. You listen to Levi sigh contentedly, fingers coming down to run over your cheek and cup your jaw. He turns and kisses the corner of your lips sweetly.

“Are you okay?” He asks, voice low and raspy, lifting up to make eye contact with you, and you nod.

“Yeah, you?”

“I’m-” Levi drops his forehead to yours, runs his fingers through your hair. I’m in love with you, is what he wants to say, but he thinks it’s too much, too fast. The thought of it makes his heart beat out of his chest. Because loving you feels like home, and at the same time feels like setting fire to the world we know. Feels like a thousand words left unsaid as he places his beating heart in your hands, lets you map the scars of his body out like they’re stars, like you’re planning on travelling the universe of which he is the core.

“I’m great,” he says instead. “You’re- you’re amazing. You’re incredible. I missed you.”

The last line is a whisper, and in your post-orgasm state you almost miss it. If he can’t say what he wants to say, he has to at least find the guts in him to say that, he thinks.

“I missed you too, Levi,” you whisper back, cupping his face tenderly.

He thinks he could die happy like this, in your embrace, his body against yours. Every moment with you is like a dream he doesn’t want to wake from.

A dream he knows he has to leave to do what has to be done.

“When this is all over,” his eyes dart over your face, canvasing it like trying to make out a constellation in the stars, “when there’s no more worry about titans, no wars, I’ll come find you. I’ll find you.”

He looks for rejection in your reaction, for displease, for worry, but he finds none. You look back at him with love and warmth in your eyes, the kind that melts his own cold heart into beating.

“Is that okay? Can I do that?” he asks. He needs confirmation, needs to know you’ll be there at the end of the line.

You smile at him, lightly glide your nails up from the bottom of his scalp, sending a slight shiver through his body. “Of course you can. I’ll wait for you.” I would wait years for you, it goes unsaid, but you hope he can feel it through the shivers you give him, through the touches and the kisses, through the years you’ve already waited.

And he knows. He knows you have and you will and honestly, he doesn’t think he deserves that. He wouldn’t be mad or upset or surprised if you found someone else, who could be here for you in every happy and heart-wrenching moment, who would give you the love you deserve in every second.

But for once, he wants to be selfish. Wants to have you, wants to have you. Wants to keep you for himself. Levi has never asked anything for himself, has been a soldier for so long. Has given his all to the world, has let the world chew him up and spit him back out over and over again. He only wants this one thing.

He almost feels guilty for it.

You catch his eyes fall, eyelids dropping down, and you immediately catch his chin and bring his eyes back up to yours.

“Hey,” you speak softly to him, and he can’t help but feel like you know that every time you speak, it feels as if your breath is skating over his heart. “You deserve good things too, Levi. I meant it.”

Grey eyes look into yours, and he blinks at you once, twice, before moving to get up.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?”

Showered, eaten, rested, you both return to the bed. You keep the curtains slightly open tonight, let the lights of the Underground mimic the stars. Levi still thinks you look beautiful under the lights streaming in. He thinks that loving you is feeling like the world stopped, like his hands and fingers move on their own as they card through your hair. Your eyes meet his and he realizes that he is alive.

Under the blanket of night, where the darkness hides the secrets we breath, he spills his heart to you as he takes you into his arms.

“I’ve lost so many people, Y/N,” he starts, and you want to cup his face, but Levi holds you tight to his chest so that you can’t see his face. You feel his jaw tremble above you. “Not just Furlan and Isabel, but I had squads, people whose families trusted me to bring them back home.”

You pull away from him slightly, and this time he lets you. You move up on the bed and wrap your hands over his cheeks, swiping the tears with your thumb.

“You did the best you could, my love. That I know.” You whisper it to him like an oath. “The lives that you carry are heavy, my dear, but you are strong.”

You want to tell him that you wish he didn’t have to carry what he did, that he deserves better and more, but you think that maybe it would be pointless. He would have to nonetheless. He wouldn’t want it any other way.

He presses your face into his chest again. “I will do whatever it takes to make their lives worthwhile.”

You wrap your arms around him, and he feels like you breath love and life back into him. He exposes himself so vulnerably to you, and it almost feels like being eaten alive, like a knife is being trailed over his body, threatening to cut and having to trust that it won’t. Feels like cold air on a winter night, shocking, but the presence of you is warmth.

“Thank you,” Levi swallows as he says it, caught up in his heart. “Thank you for granting me this solace.”

You shift up slightly to press your face into the crook of his neck. “We find solace in each other,” you tell him.

I find solace in you.

That night, Levi rests. He sleeps the full night.

addition: click here to see the love letter levi writes to reader months after this incident

A/N:

Thank you for reading my fic that i ngl slaved over. I really was trying to think about how I could write something lovely for Levi whilst making it not-too-OOC, and this was what I came up with. Although Underground!Levi definitely did have a hard childhood, I like to think he also had some regular teenager years, and that maybe he wasn’t as guarded as he is now. So when he comes back to you, he goes through a little bit of an age regression. The less-guarded parts of him show, especially because he knows and loves and trusts you.

I don’t necessarily think that Levi was happy in the Underground, but I think it’s possible that he found pieces of happiness, one of them being in you. Because he thinks you’re a good person, you made his life easier, and you held out hope for a better world despite the shit that the Underground brought. The world is cruel, and it isn’t always easy to live in, but there are moments of happiness and care and love. He’s shared many of those moments with you for years, and you loved him even before the world deemed him a savior, ‘Humanity’s Greatest Warrior’. You didn’t love him for all that he did, all the lives, both dead and alive, that he carries on his back day in and day out, but for the way he made pancakes on some mornings for his team, and the childish dreams he had of creating a better world for you both. That’s what I wanted to bring out, for him, with this.

I love Levi as a character, and I hope I did him justice. I hope I did my love for him justice too.

In a few years from now, when the world has been renewed again, he’ll find you again. And he’ll be able to bring his childish wonder back again too.

With love,

361 notes · View notes

titan-fodder · 3 years ago

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Prima Vista Part VIII

[ previous ]

Rating: E (explicit; mdni) Pairing: Mike Zacharias x fem!reader wc: ~13.2k

Warnings: this one fucking hurts, pining, stupid decisions, miscommunications, explicit sexual content (it’s time for something we’ve been waiting for), yet another party, angst A/N: Read this, but before you murder me remember there’s one more after this. Also, this isn’t the big thing you’ve been waiting for, but I know it’s something a lot of people have wanted to see. Enjoy this ouchie.

Mike doesn’t feel human when he wakes up. He’s nearly positive he no longer is—body taken over by some creature of the bog with toxic breath. Jesus, what the fuck happened last night?

Blinking hurts. Shifting his leg hurts. His chest is fucking killing him, feels like he bruised his god damn sternum, and when he moves to sit up in a bed that is not his, overwhelming nausea has Mike groaning and covering his mouth with one hand.

“He has risen,” a vaguely familiar baritone voice rings through the air, loud enough to make Mike wave his other hand in an attempt to mute it. Erwin chuckles, paying him no attention apparently as he speaks again, “Good timing, too. I just came to drop this off.”

Mike tries to focus his bleary eyes on the nightstand where his friend sets down a bottle of water, a bigger bottle of Gatorade, and several liquid gel pills.

“Chill here for as long as you need. I’m just watching the pledges clean downstairs. Want me to bring the trash can over?” Erwin’s concern can’t entirely hide the amusement in his voice. It’s irritating, but also… Mike needs that trash can.

“Yeah,” he croaks through his palm. “Thanks.”

Erwin nods and grabs the little plastic bin, setting it down next to the bed. Mike considers just picking it up and sitting with it in his lap, but he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to stay upright for long enough.

“I’ll be downstairs. If you need anything, you’ll just have to yell because your phone is definitely sitting in a bag of rice in the kitchen right now.”

“What?” Mike frowns. How even…

“It got wet,” Erwin states, like that clarifies anything. “Probably in the shower.”

“Why was I—”

“We can talk about it when you’re less…” Erwin gestures to Mike’s face with one finger and grimaces as he finishes, “Green. You didn’t do anything too terrible, though, so you can rest easy.”

He leaves, and Mike chokes down the pills and a few gulps of water before gently laying back down. He has to retrace metaphorical footsteps to get to the last thing he remembers from the night before, and it’s body shots off some blonde clone. His order of events goes: hanging out with Rhi, talking with you and Erwin, Zeke showing up, catching Eren mid-roofie attempt and throwing him out, getting mad at Nile, and then just a lot of drinking. Too much. Of different kinds. That had been dumb.

He thinks he spent a little while in the bathroom. Erwin was there. And, Nile came and went. He thinks he may have heard your voice a few times but can’t be sure, and honestly, trying to recall anything from the period of time his brain was literally incapable of processing new memories is a pretty big waste of time.

Mike spends most of the day in Erwin’s room. He drifts in and out of restless sleep, waking up to drink his water and Gatorade. At some point, one of the kids, Jean, knocks on the door and drops a bowl of soup off, mumbles, “Erwin told me to bring this up here.” Mike hasn’t spent a ton of time around the current pledge class, but Erwin must like Jean if he trusted the kid enough to give him his room code.

The soup settles his stomach enough to move around a little more. His headache ebbs into a dull throb, and the sharp ache in his chest fades into that of a bruise. By around five o'clock, Mike is finally able to amble downstairs, give everyone a tired wave, mumble his thanks to Erwin, then drive himself to his apartment.

He's still trying to piece together what happened the night before, but he just ends up more confused than before, so he decides to put it behind him and move on. Everyone deserves a wild night every once in a while.

Thanksgiving nears. Mike has already made plans to go home to his parents which means he has to turn down the Pike house Friendsgiving offer that Erwin extends to him.

He tells Mike that Nile and Hitch will be there, but Marie might show her face, "So, that will be interesting."

Some of the brothers who can't make it home will attend. Erwin is bringing Maddie who Mike hasn't heard about in several months, but he's pretty sure that's just to throw him off the scent of whatever Erwin has going on with you. You, who will also be in attendance because apparently your mom opted to go on a girls trip instead of face the family. Mike can't blame her.

He thinks maybe he should reach out to you, to ask about the night he blacked out because he has a feeling you can give him some details that others can't, but Erwin assures Mike that you were only in the bathroom with him for a short time. "Just long enough to see you rip your shirt which she seemed a little too happy about."

Mike doesn't know what he'd say to you anyway. Even after learning that Zeke had blocked his number in your phone. He's still mad that you let the fucker get close enough to do that in the first place, that you had chosen him. It's a wound that just won't heal. Any time he sees you or hears your name, all Mike can think about is why he wasn't good enough.

So, he keeps distancing himself. It seems like the most appropriate thing he can do until he decides he'll be able to have a conversation with you without blowing up.

Mike's parents are happy to see him when he walks in the door. Scout jumps on him until he picks her up and holds her like the puppy she is not. He isn't surprised when his mom asks about you, if you and Mike sorted things out. The question hurts even if he was expecting it, seems like yesterday you were walking around the house like you'd always been a part of it.

Lying is the easiest path to take. He tells his parents that you had to go home for the break, that you couldn't split up your time between two families in just four days, and, of course, they buy it.

Thanksgiving day is nice enough. The family travels a couple cities over to Mike's aunt and uncle's house. It's much bigger, has room for the relatives that are able to make it. There are traditional Greek dishes as well as the usual turkey, stuffing, cranberry sauce, etc. A few pictures here and there, entertaining his younger cousins—it's a good time.

Until Mike checks his various social media apps and sees the pictures from Friendsgiving.

They're tame, nothing wildly inappropriate, but they still make Mike scowl as he thumbs through them.

One of Nile cutting into the turkey, of Reiner ripping into a drumstick, Connie hoarding all of the cranberry sauce while his best friend, a girl named Sasha, does the same with the deviled eggs. Gelgar looks to be crying with a dot of potato salad in his hair. Marie is indeed there, glaring in the background of a photo where Nile and Hitch are tapping beer bottles together with silly smiles. She looks much happier in the shot of her and Maddie sitting together, laughing over glasses of wine.

Mike's heart stutters when he gets to a photo of you aiming to toss food into Reiner's mouth, then of you and Erwin both holding beers in one hand and pointing matching finger guns with the other.

Thick as fucking thieves. Two peas in a god damn pod. Mike wants to throw his phone out the window of his dad's suburban.

There are several more pictures that Mike doesn't bother to look at. He'd like to have a good time with his parents for the remainder of his break, and there's no way he'll be able to do that if he's pissed off.

So, he distracts himself. He goes on walks with Scout and plays with her for hours, watches old movies with his mom and dad, calls a couple relatives from overseas to catch up. But, those pictures are seared into the back of his mind, surfacing whenever he has down time.

He doesn't have any desire to go back to campus, not if he's gonna see you and Erwin together. His friend can deny it all he wants, but Mike knows something is going on between the two of you, and as he drives back to the college, he finally has the realization that… you might just be a shitty person.

Yeah, you have issues, but so does everyone. It doesn't excuse you from—from fucking toying with people, from using them as puppets whenever you need to. Mike wishes he'd never even tempted you to sleep with him that last time. It had felt too good and too right, but apparently you don't feel the same way. You went right back to Zeke once you'd gotten what you wanted, and Mike should have seen that coming. He should have been prepared for it. On some level he knew that's what you'd do, but that never stopped him from hoping that maybe… maybe it would have opened your eyes.

Plus, it ruined the entire Jurassic Park franchise for him, so that sucks.

He picks up where he left off both in his classes and in his social life. He stays away from PKA as much as he can but still attends meetings when necessary. The lacrosse season is coming to an end, so he tries to make the most of it. Rhi ends up in his bed again, both of them taking what they can from each other. Erwin jokes that he's gonna fall in love with her— "You know what happened the last time you tried to keep it casual," —and Mike nearly decks him in the face.

You don't try to talk to him, no texts or calls. When you see each other on campus, you don't spare him more than a sad glance as you pass him.

Mike is fine with it. He isn't about to be the one to make the move to talk things out. Honestly, he doesn't know if there's anything to talk out. You dated Zeke, and now you're dating Mike's best friend and trying to hide it.

He's mad at both of you, but it's easier to channel that blistering anger toward you rather than Erwin who he has to see on a regular basis. Besides, Erwin has always gotten around. Mike isn't especially surprised that he'd try his hand with you especially after what happened at the ranch house, but fuck, couldn't he have waited until after he and Mike graduated or something? Just disrespectful. That's what it is.

"Bro, I do not wanna go to another party," Mike's voice rises in frustration. "Consider me partied the fuck out, okay? I'm tired of 'em."

"It's not even a party," Erwin tells him. "It's more like a gathering of… like-minded individuals."

Mike snorts. "Yeah, okay."

"I'm not kidding! Like, twelve people at the most. All we're doing is hanging out at the ranch house."

"Will there be drinking?" Mike questions, moving his head back and forth in a mocking way.

Erwin shrugs his shoulders where he sits. "Of course there'll be drinking, but you don't have to partake. I just want you there to chill. Come on, man."

"Who's going?"

The blond lists off some of the Friendsgiving group, but he doesn't get to finish because once Erwin utters your name, Mike cuts him off with a loud, "Nope!"

"Duuuude," Erwin sounds like the frustrated one now, not that he has any right to be.

"Don't dude me! Why the fuck would you think I'd have any interest in watching you two giggle and cuddle n' shit."

"Mike," Erwin groans, rubbing his forehead. "How many times do I have to tell you…"

"You don't have to tell me anything. I already know what I need to know."

Standing up, Erwin seems like he's at his wit's end when he barks, "You don't know shit! You're seeing what you want to see without asking either of us! She misses you, dude. I'm just the next best thing."

"Nice to know your dick game isn't better than mine at least," Mike grumbles.

"Jesus Christ, you know what? I don't care. Come to the house, or don't come. Whatever."

Erwin takes long strides to get to Mike's front door, obviously ready to get away from him. He slams it hard enough to make Mike flinch.

He doesn't care how annoyed Erwin is with him. It's partially his fault that Mike doesn't want to go to the gathering, and he should know that. He'll come to understand eventually, and that thought makes it easier for Mike to make his decision. He's not gonna go. He refuses. There's no way. He won't—

Mike ends up going.

After powering through finals and visiting his parents for another few days. He has a mental debate the entire way to the ranch house, swearing to himself, going over the pros and cons. He comes close to turning around more than a few times, but after a couple hours, Mike finally pulls into the large circle drive right behind Levi's black Prius.

Erwin is extremely surprised to see him but keeps his mouth closed about it, just tells him, "Room upstairs on the far right is still open."

Mike drops his stuff off then greets the others—Nile, Gelgar, Reiner, Jean, Marco, and Levi.

"Wasn't expecting to see you here," the last states, focused on burning the loose string of his hoodie with a lighter. "Erwin told me you guys had some bullshit argument."

"Happens sometimes," Mike dismisses as he takes a place on the couch.

"I guess. This is why I don't have a lot of friends. Can't put up with stupid shit like that."

"Oh, is that why?" Mike rolls his eyes.

Levi snickers, shaking his head. "Aw man, he was right. You are in a bad mood, aren't ya'?

"Man, fuck off."

They sit in silence for a few minutes. Mike is bouncing his foot where it's thrown over his opposite leg—anxious or angry or some other negative emotion he needs to get rid of.

"Party's gonna be a fucking sausage fest," Levi mumbles.

Nile passes behind the couch just in time to hear and informs the smaller man, "Not entirely. Maddie, Marie, Hitch, and Mike's little heartbreaker should be getting here soon."

Mike groans internally but speaks out loud, "This was a mistake. I can't fucking be here if you guys keep talking about her."

"If you can't handle us talking about her, how're you gonna handle seeing her?" Levi scoffs.

Erwin has stocked the bar with craft beer and various wines. Mike considers going ahead and breaking a few bottles open, but he resists—doesn't want a repeat of the forgotten party.

They set up a horror video game upstairs and an animated adult series downstairs. Erwin wasn't lying about it being a more relaxed environment than usual, but that doesn't stop Mike's neck from prickling when you arrive with Hitch at around five. Maddie and Marie show up a couple hours later, and Mike can feel the tension that surrounds all four of you. Amusing as it can be, he really doesn't have the patience for cattiness tonight.

High quality Chinese food is provided courtesy of Erwin's father's credit card as well as dipped strawberries that Nile keeps feeding Hitch. It gets Marie very heated very quickly, and Maddie has to talk her down in another room.

It makes Mike wonder if you would ever let him feed you like that or if you would snort and bat his hand away. What the fuck do you think you're doing, Zacharias? That's couples shit.

It makes him sigh and slouch on the couch, thankful you're upstairs watching Connie play the most recent Resident Evil.

He knows you're not a fan of horror, so the only reason you'd be up there is to avoid Mike.

Good.

Erwin is the first to open the wine. Maddie won't leave his side, stuck to him like a magnet. The fact that he has to get a drink only furthers Mike's theory that Erwin didn't invite her as a real date.

He spends a fair amount of time shooting the shit with Levi. It isn't necessarily the most enjoyable conversation considering Levi's constant smartass comments, but it's better than trudging up to the second floor.

Nile fucks Hitch in the bathroom for everyone to hear. Marie starts crying and runs to the porch. This gathering is about as insufferable as Mike assumed it would be.

Eventually, you journey downstairs. It was inevitable. You spare Mike a glance and sigh as you make your way to the kitchen to grab a beer—you don't even like beer, so why—

"Hey, can you grab me one too?" Erwin calls out, and when you hand it to him, he gives you that hundred watt grin Mike knows brings girls to their knees, but while Maddie stares at him with that dreamy look in her eyes, you just snort and gently shove him.

"Don't fuckin' look at me like that, Smith."

Ah, the last name card, the one that you pull to act like you're all aloof when really you're just reeling them in.

"Like what?" Erwin asks before taking a sip, still smiling around the rim of the bottle.

"You know what."

Mike chooses then to go upstairs, knowing he steals your attention as he stomps like a toddler throwing a tantrum.

Why did he even come here? Was it just to give himself more reason to brood? Solidify that he's valid in being angry?

Connie is trembling as his character makes his way through a decrepit house. Jean laughs every few minutes, but he also startles at every jump scare, leaving Reiner to call both of them pussies as he bites into strawberry after strawberry, throwing the stems into a little bowl in his lap. Mike supposes the first years are entertaining enough. He can see why Erwin invited them here.

It's close to nine o'clock. Mike is bored out of his mind, can't help venturing back downstairs mostly because he's tired of watching the pledges swear and shout at the video game (including Reiner now) but also out of morbid curiosity.

Marie has returned and is sitting in the kitchen with Maddie, both of whom are glaring into the den where you, Erwin, Nile, and Hitch share the couch. Hitch may as well be in Nile's lap, but you're sitting on the back ridge, feet planted on the cushions as you hunch forward and nurse a beer. Your knee is against Erwin's arm, but that's the only point of contact. Still, whenever something funny is said on the TV show, he looks up at you, as if to check that you're laughing, taking it in. Mike can't blame him. You have one of the cutest laughs he's ever heard.

Levi and Gelgar are both on plush loveseats on opposite sides of the room, either scrolling or typing on their phones.

Again, Mike has to think about how laid back the party is—even if he's a mess. It's so different from the raucous scenes he's used to—blasting music and keg stands and dancing on tables. This would be infinitely preferable if it weren't for the open pit in Mike's stomach.

If he could just chill the fuck out, pay absolutely no attention to you and Erwin and the way his fingers slowly wrap around your ankle when you won't stop bouncing your leg.

Not together his ass.

When Mike gets a text from Rhi, he basically sighs in relief—the perfect opportunity to forget about you for a while.

He doesn't bother asking to make sure it's okay with the host, just messages back, what are you doing rn? and immediately asks her to come over, knowing she only lives about an hour away.

Naturally, she agrees. One of the only great things about Rhi is that she’s always, always down to fuck. Mike doesn’t know if it has something to do with his size or if she just has a high sex drive. Either way, he’s glad for it..

He meets her on the porch after waiting for what feels like an eternity, just having to sit and watch you kick Erwin’s thigh whenever he says something dumb. He always retaliates by pulling on your little toes which makes you squeak and almost fall off the couch. It’s fucking maddening, makes Mike want to pull his hair out or throw something, just trash the fucking house because Erwin deserves it.

But, then Rhi arrives in all her Ugg boot glory, wearing the old, green hoodie that you had given back to Mike a few months ago.

They walk in, Mike’s hands on her shoulders like he’s pushing her over the threshold. You look up, take the other girl in, then very quickly step off the couch and prance into the kitchen without saying a word.

Erwin, however, makes up for your silence, wide eyed as he stares at Rhi and utters, “Fuck.”

* You didn’t want to be like Maddie and Marie, jogging to a private place to cry over a fucking boy, but god, you are definitely locked in the bathroom, hunched over the sink sobbing as quietly as you can. Your nose is running, and your eyes are burning, leaking god damn rivers

It wouldn’t have been so bad if she was just in her normal winter sorority get-up. But the hoodie? The one you wore for months on end, the one Mike would sniff whenever he would lay his head on your stomach, mumbling something about, “Smells good. Might have to take it back.” He didn’t have to say it out loud, but you knew he always felt a little jolt of pride when you’d wear it, like you were advertising how close you were to him.

So, to see another girl wearing it—to see Rhi wearing it—it fucking hurts. Your throat is sore from holding back those loud, pained cries. Your stomach is rolling like you ate something spoiled. Your fingers ache from digging into the fancy, granite sink. Everything hurts.

It makes you wonder if Mike felt like this when you first told him about Zeke, if he feels like this now that he thinks you’re with Erwin—stupid, stupid, stupid. You shouldn’t have waited so long to talk to him. You should have cleared things up right after the party. Now, it’s too late.

There’s a knock on the door that makes you sniff and wipe your nose, but you still tell whoever is on the other side (most likely Hitch or Erwin), “Go away.”

“It’s me.” Erwin. "Let me in."

"Literally what did I just say?"

"If you don't unlock the door, I'll kick it in. It's my house, so I won't get in trouble for it."

"Oh my god," you grumble before turning the lock on the knob. "Spoiled fucking brat."

Erwin steps in and closes the door then takes a good look at your puffy face and red eyes. Sighing, he leans against the wall. "For the record, I didn't invite her. Mike must have—"

"That doesn't make me feel any better," you say, grabbing some toilet paper to blow your nose. "Actually, it makes me feel even worse."

"I just wanted to make sure you knew."

"What, d'you want brownie points or something?" You ask sarcastically, making sure the toilet lid is down before sitting on it, bracing your arms on your knees and looking up at Erwin to find him frowning. "Sorry. I'm being a bitch, I know."

He waves it off. "It's understandable. I'm not very happy with him either. The perpetual shitty mood is driving me crazy."

You don't know much about that other than it being entirely your fault, so you apologize, "Yeah, sorry about that."

"If you guys would have just talked it out like adults—"

"Well, we didn't, Erwin. And, it seems like it's not even an option any more, so…" you hold your hands out in a clueless fashion, like you're at a loss. "I don't know what you want me to do."

Your voice is thick, straining against the lump in your throat. Vision going blurry again, you shove your palms against your eyes, repeating, no more crying, no more crying, no more crying.

"I'm sorry he's doing this to you," Erwin says quietly.

You sniffle, almost laugh when you reply, "Not really different from what I did to him. Like," you have to blow your nose again so it doesn't start running, toss the toilet paper into the waste basket next to you. "I don't know if he's trying to get back at me or legitimately moving on, but I can't exactly hold it against him."

"Still," Erwin takes a couple steps toward you. "Pulling this kind of shit is fucked up. He had to have known it would hurt you on some level."

"You don't have to, like, take my side or whatever," you state. "I know we're friends and all, but you don't have to coddle me like this."

"I'm not trying to coddle you. I'm sympathizing. There's a difference."

"Whatever it is, it's unnecessary," you mumble.

"Yeah?" Another step closer so that he's right in front of you. "So, you weren't planning on crying in here for the rest of the night?"

"No," you're quick to deny, but your lips quirk upward when you correct, "I was gonna go up to my room and cry in there for the rest of the night."

Erwin shakes his head then pulls you into a strange embrace, pressing your face to his stomach with one hand while the other settles between your shoulder blades.

Your first instinct is to shove him away, but his shirt is soft and smells like detergent, and his stomach is firm and grounding against your cheek, and the knuckles rubbing up and down the top of your spine are warm and soothing.

So, you stay in the slightly awkward position, shutting your eyes and trying to relax, but all you can think about is Mike walking in with his hands on Rhi and the way she looked in his hoodie. Is she cuter than you? Does she smell better than you? Does she treat him better than you did?

Tears well up in your eyes once again, dampening Erwin's shirt as they slip over your waterline, and before you know it, you're clutching the material covering the small of his back and crying against him.

And, he lets you—just keeps stroking between your shoulders and shushing you with a quiet, "I know, I know. It'll be okay."

Erwin is cocky and bold, takes things a little too far sometimes, but, just as you thought last year after he stole that kiss, he is good. Even if he's broken too many hearts to count and completely disregarded people's feelings, he's a good guy. At the very least, he's good to you, and that's what you need at the moment.

"What time is it?" You speak into his shirt.

"About eleven thirty."

You hum and turn so that your forehead is resting just above his hips. It could be a suggestive position, but—

But nothing.

You blink a few times, weighing the situation, everything that unfolded tonight—everything that's unfolded over the past semester and… it would make sense. It's not like you've never thought about it before. You're worked up and need to unwind, need to clear your head, and besides, Mike already believes there's something between you and Erwin, so why not take advantage of that?

Sucking on your bottom lip, you go through a list of pros and cons. The biggest downside is that Mike will be upset with you. He already is, though, so there’s isn’t much to lose on that front. The upside is that you'll be able to forget about him for a while and possibly get an orgasm out of it.

"Hey, Erwin…" You're not entirely sure how to bring it up, but it turns out you don't have to.

"Don't fucking ask," he huffs. Perceptive bastard.

You push away from his stomach and look up at him. "Okay, why, though?"

His head is hanging back, gaze trained on the ceiling as he admits, "Because if you ask, I won't say no, and it'll only make things worse."

Something about that gives you butterflies. That's a good sign, means you might be invested enough to finally let your mind wander from Mike.

"Mike already thinks we're fucking, though, so unless you don't actually want to fuck me, I don't see why we shouldn't."

Erwin walks backward until he hits the cabinets. His full lips are pressed into a tight line, and his blue eyes look like a warning. Don't push me.

"Do you honestly think you won't walk away from that feeling guilty?" He questions. "We know we aren't sleeping together, that we aren't actually doing anything wrong even if Mike doesn't believe it. But, to actually go through with it?" Erwin lets out a little chuckle and crosses his arms over his chest. "I probably won't feel bad 'cause I'm kind of an asshole, but you? You will feel awful."

"I already feel awful," you remind him as you stand. "I already feel guilty. If you think I could feel any fucking worse than I already do, you might be overestimating my—my—I don't know—emotional capacity?"

Moving forward, you nudge Erwin out of the way to get to the sink, splashing cold water on your face to clean it of dried tears. You cup a hand under the faucet, then toss some water into your mouth, swishing, and spitting, and turning back around.

Erwin's gaze is dark and not at all subtle when he eyes you up and down.

"I might hurt you, you know," he states in a voice that's considerably deeper than before.

You raise your eyebrows, unconvinced. "You don't have to worry about me catching feelings, Smith. Relax."

Mouth tugging up on one side, Erwin smirks in a way that makes you squirm where you stand.

"That's not what I meant."

It takes you a moment to decipher what he's trying to say, but you breathe an, "Oh," when you realize, then another as it truly sinks in. "Oh."

That's okay, you want to tell him. I want to be hurt tonight. You only want it if it will hurt. If you confess to that desire, though, Erwin might back out—a disappointment considering the way you're starting to get a little excited.

"If I can handle Mike, I can handle you," you say, fully aware that he'll take it as a challenge. If there's one thing you know about men, it's that they thrive off competition.

Erwin is no different as he slides in front of you, hands finding your hips and pulling them to his. He's already half hard in his khakis, and you stand on your tip-toes, brushing against him as you do, to tilt your head back and hover just under his mouth as you tease, "Don't tell me you haven't thought about it before."

"You have no idea how often I've thought about it—how often I think about it."

You nip at his bottom lip, enjoying the way he licks it afterward. "Have you been holding back since we started hanging out—just the two of us?"

His fingers dig into your back, just above the curve of your ass, and you already know there will be small bruises left behind.

"Do you want me to paint a picture?" He rumbles, and you nod, pressing a kiss to his throat. "Any time I have you in my room I think about fucking you. On the bed. Over my desk. Up against a wall…" A little gasp makes its way out of him as you bite down on the skin you've been sucking on, and Erwin ruts against you a couple times before continuing, voice a little more strangled than before.

"Thought about fucking you downstairs on the couch for the whole frat to see, all spread out, moaning like a porn star. I know what you sound like," he whispers, catching you off guard when he suddenly lifts you to set you on the counter. "I've heard the way you scream for Mike."

There's a pang in your chest at the mention of him, but it's gone just as quickly.

"And, you'd like it, wouldn't you? Being watched." Erwin trails his lips from your temple to your ear, making you shiver when he speaks into it, "You can pretend all you want, but I know you liked it when I walked in on you and him. You liked being on display."

He isn't wrong. You replay that instance in your head a little more than you probably should.

Hearing the fact stated now, though, right to your face has your body heating, arousal flooding you and making warmth pool between your legs.

"You can admit it, it's okay. I've known for a while now."

One of his hands moves to the inside of your thigh then further up, fingers dancing over your covered pussy. It's your turn to gasp. You clutch his shoulders and spread your legs despite knowing there's no way you'll be satisfied with this, not when thick denim is separating you from his touch.

"Don't get too cocky, Smith." You try to sound confident, but it's hard to when your breath keeps hitching.

"Why?" He grazes his teeth over the sensitive space below your ear, and it makes you twitch in his grasp. "I have every reason to be."

He goes on to list every other place he's thought about fucking you—apparently just about every setting you've ever been in with him. Each and every Pike party, the locker room before or after a lacrosse game, his Mustang, Mike's Wrangler.

"That's fucked up," you somehow manage.

Erwin shrugs his shoulders, mumbles, "Can't help it," then slots his lips against yours for the first time (or, the first consensual time).

You're reminded of Zeke, the way all you did was compare him, only now with Erwin, you have two men who flash through your mind. He's softer than Zeke but just as bold as he cradles your head and slips his tongue into your mouth—tastes sweeter than Mike (probably from the strawberries), but it's not necessarily a good thing. It isn't bad either. It's just Erwin… Different.

His hair doesn't brush your cheeks like Mike's does. He doesn't have glasses to dig into your skin. Clean shaven, no coarse hairs to tickle against you, and he's smack in the middle in terms of height. You have to crane your neck more than you did with Zeke but less than you had to with Mike.

It's all a little jarring, but you feel this was always sort of an inevitability, at least once you started spending time with Erwin one on one. You never would have let this happen if you had stayed with Mike—if you had actually taken the next step with him—but that's why you started hanging out with Erwin in the first place.

You never noticed the way your back and forth was flirty, mostly just you giving him shit about one thing or another, but apparently others read further into it. And, you've had as good a time as you can. The heartache has put a damper on things, kept Erwin mostly off your radar save for the days you woke up frustrated and desperate, but that's what your vibrator is for.

Apparently, while you were busy making sure things stayed friendly between the two of you, Erwin's mind was getting away from him. Every god damn time you hung out, he told you, whether it was at the house or out to lunch, walking with you to classes or out to your car.

He did make it a habit of touching you, you can admit, but none of it was inappropriate—a nudge to knock you off balance that would result in you hitting him, a prod in the ribs that would result in you squeaking and hitting him. Sticking a foot out to trip you that would result in you…

Dude obviously likes to be slapped around.

There's also the hugs. Up in his room when you feel extra gloomy, he'd wrap his arms around you and sway back and forth. Sometimes he'd sit and pull you with him, turn on a movie and keep a tight hold around your shoulders. There were afternoons you'd walk into his room while he was studying and just pass out in his bed, up too late the night before from worrying and obsessing, in need of a nap before your evening lecture. He'd set an alarm for you, stay up for a while longer before allowing himself to take a break and crawl under the blankets beside to—

Oh, god, you've been dating Erwin Smith.

You have to break away from him to laugh, lightly hitting your head against his chest so that he chuckles and asks, "What?"

"I—" You look back up at him, shaking your head to yourself. "I can't believe I didn't fucking see it."

"See what?"

"You and me—"

"You and I," he corrects, and you shove him.

"You and I have just been doing what Mike and I were doing."

"Uh, excuse me," he holds a finger up. "We have not been having endless sex, thank you."

"That's not—" You roll your eyes. "I'm saying we've been dating without actually dating. Like, I get why everyone thinks we're a thing."

"Oh," Erwin nods, sucking his teeth for a second then adding, "Yeah, I was wondering when you would figure that out."

"Fucker. Did you do it on purpose? Like, just to prove you could?"

He frowns, looking genuinely offended. "Christ, what kind of person do you think I am?"

"Not twenty minutes ago you confessed to being an asshole."

His face softens when he snickers. "Okay, true. But, no. I'm not trying to manipulate Mike or you for that matter. You've been upset, and you've put up with a lot of shit over the last few months, and I just figured you could use a friend."

Staring up at him, you notice the way his face is turning a little red, and you hold your tongue between your teeth as you smile knowingly.

"You caaare about meee."

He scoffs and looks away

"Heartbreaker Smith cares about a girl," you tease. "How embarrassing."

"Laugh it up. You would've been miserable without me."

"I mean, yeah, but still. What's it like having a platonic girlfriend?"

He tilts his head to the side then reaches forward to squeeze your thighs. "Is it really platonic if we're about to have sex?"

"Absolutely. Hundred percent."

"You're not even a little worried that it'll become a regular thing and you'll fall in love?" The arrogance is both astounding and amusing.

Cocking your head, you take a deep breath, expression one of false sympathy as you pat his stomach. "I'm positive. Unfortunately, my heart belongs to another."

Erwin clicks his tongue before moving forward and sliding his hands between the counter and your ass. "I'm a little hurt, honestly. I'm used to fucking a girl and having to hide out for a while afterward—always so clingy."

You squint, can't tell if he's being serious or overdramatizing to annoy you.

"You know what? Nevermind. I don't even want your little playboy ass anymore—"

Naturally, he turns the charm back on right then, getting too close to your face, blue eyes flicking to your lips before he breathes, "Don't lie," and presses a tiny peck to them. "The tough girl act is only believable for so long."

"Wow, fuck you."

"That's the idea," he smirks.

"Har fucking har. You're so funny."

Erwin pulls you closer to the edge of the counter and grinds his hips against yours then prompts, "Your room or mine?"

"Mine," you reply. "I'd rather you have to do the walk of shame later."

"Probably a good idea since you won't be able to once I'm finished with you."

You actually laugh out loud. It would have worked on you a few minutes ago, but all the joking has you a little giggly at this point.

Fuck, he is going to make a great distraction.

"Okay, calm down. Don't make promises you can't keep."

"Sounds like a challenge to me."

"Men," you sigh. "So predictable."

After minutes more of unnecessary banter, Erwin finally coaxes you out of the bathroom you've both spent far too much time in. Your face has cleared up, the urge to cry subsiding, though your heart still drops in your chest when you pass behind Mike and Rhi on the couch, green eyes tracking you as you walk up the stairs in front of Erwin.

This is not the right way to solve a problem, but it'll probably be fun for a while. It's already fun as Erwin kicks the door closed and walks you back to the bed. He isn't even touching you, just watching you with a hazy blue gaze. He isn't smiling, looks like a predator, and honestly, it's ridiculously attractive.

"Stop making that face."

"What face?"

"That—that—"

You run into the bed, wave your arms to keep your balance, but Erwin presses his fingertips to your chest and just barely pushes to knock you back.

"What face, hm?"

The hair on your arms and neck is standing on end, anticipation bubbling in your gut as you try to crawl higher on the mattress only for Erwin to grab you by the ankle and tug you back down.

Damn. He's good at this.

"Stay," he commands, straightening up to take his shirt off.

He's tan and toned, light blonde hair sprinkled over his chest and above the waistband of his pants.

You're reminded of the very first Pike party you went to, the first time you slept with Mike (and can't remember), walking downstairs the following morning to find Erwin in the kitchen wearing sweats and drinking his coffee and smirking at you like he could tell the future.

Maddening. He's maddening.

You rid yourself of your own top then shimmy out of your jeans. Erwin eyes you hungrily, causing your whole body to tingle. It simultaneously makes you want to cover yourself and spread yourself open for him.

"I have been waiting way too fucking long for this," Erwin mumbles, raking fingernails down your torso so that you take in a shuddering breath.

"It's been, like, a y-year and a half." Your back arches on its own volition, hips bucking as Erwin scratches over the bones before catching your thong and pulling it down. He kneels at the end of the bed, a familiar scene save for the head of shiny, golden hair.

"A year and a half of having to look but not touch."

"Poor little—" you gasp when he parts your folds with his thumbs, staring at your pussy then blowing a stream of air over it.

"Do you know how many times I've jacked off to the thought of you? How many times I've slept with other girls while imagining it was you?"

You want to make another smartass comment, tease him about being a pervert or in his feelings or something, but you can't find your voice as he licks a long, slow stripe up your slit. You stare at the ceiling, not even blinking as too many signals fire in your brain all at once.

Erwin is good with his mouth. Like, stupid good. He has a teasing rhythm, flicks your clit with the tip of his tongue until your muscles are coiled then moves to trace the ring of your entrance, taking his time as you turn from human to puddle.

He’s better at this than Zeke who would purposely graze his teeth over your sensitive little bud a little too hard on purpose, would suck on it until it hurt. He liked when you whimpered for him, liked leaving raised welts on your ribs and back from where he’d scratched. The intermixed pain and pleasure never failed to make you come, but the climb up to that precipice was usually precarious for lack of a better term.

Then, there’s Mike (because of course there is). His mood usually determined how he would take you, hard and fast before a game or slow and lazy as you both relaxed in his room. One thing always stayed the same no matter his disposition, and it’s that he fucking worshiped your pussy—even said it on multiple occasions. He would eat you out like a starving man, lapping at your juices like it would quench his thirst. Some days he would overstimulate you to the point of tears, neverending licks lavished over your clit as he pumped thick fingers in and out of your cunt. Other days he would go down on you like it was a fucking hobby—turn on a movie, spread you out on the foot of his bed, and eat you out while only halfway paying attention to the TV. He could pull multiple orgasms from you that way, letting you come around a finger or two before returning to your pulsing clit. Fuck, you used to make such a mess. He’d spend minutes trying to lick you clean, but you always ended up in the shower afterward.

You shouldn’t be thinking of that right now, though. You should be thinking about Erwin’s clever tongue and the fingertips just barely brushing over sensitive skin. You want them inside of you, want something to clamp down on, but no matter how much you pull his hair or utter a breathy, “Please,” he keeps the same pace, only moving on when he feels like it.

He’s doing it on purpose, trying to break you before even getting to the point of fucking you, and if you’re being honest, it just might work. He’s gonna make you lose your god damn mind tonight. Exactly like you want to.

“Fuck, how much p-practice have you had with th-this?”

Erwin laughs, stilling your wriggling by curling his arms around your thighs. “Too much, probably.”

You whine when he continues, but when he starts softly sucking on your clit, you’re surprised at how close you suddenly feel, your legs naturally trying to spread further but remaining immobilized in Erwin’s grip. The threat of not being able to move only intensifies the building sensation in your gut, and soon you’re gasping his name, eyes rolling as you try in vain to buck further into his face.

You feel more than hear Erwin groan, a deep vibration that pours over your clit and makes you twitch. He gives you a few more long licks, then pulls back and stands, exposing the way his mouth and chin are covered in a glossy sheen.

“Feel better yet?” He smirks.

You wave a lazy hand, don’t want to fluff his ego too much, so you allow him to witness your borderline stoned state while still jeering, “I’ll feel better when I have your cock inside me.”

Erwin laughs to himself, mutters, “Eager,” then takes his pants off.

Pushing yourself up on your elbows, you give his cock a cursory glance and stop. “Hold on,” then slide off the bed and to your knees.

If you’re gonna fuck Erwin Smith, you’re at least gonna appreciate it.

He inhales sharply as you place your hands on his thighs, eyes traveling over his length. It’s pretty, above average in size, smooth, with a flared tip that’s currently flushing a dark pink.

“I really hate to admit this, but you could be, like, a dick model.”

He chokes on some kind of snort, and you swear his entire chest turns red. “I—thank you?”

“You’re welcome,” you tell him, promptly taking hold of his cock and guiding it into your mouth.

“Oh, fuck, fuck—”

His skin is soft against your tongue, warm as you take him deeper. His girth stretches your jaw, but you’re still pretty used to the feeling, had to get used to it with Mike because he’s a little bigger than—

That’s not important.

Erwin breathes through his teeth as he places a hand on the top of your head, and when you look up at him through your eyelashes, he lets out a disbelieving little laugh. That confident fucking tease is nowhere to be found as you swipe your tongue over the tiny hole leaking pre then surge forward, almost pressing your nose to his pelvis as you run the muscle back and forth under the base of his cock.

“Shit, let me—let me lean against the bed,” he says, pulling you off him and chuckling, “Gonna make my fucking knees buckle.”

You turn where you’re kneeling, waiting for him to get better stabilized before resuming your efforts to ruin this annoying, charming frat boy who is always put together. You suck and slurp and trigger your gag reflex a couple times. Erwin’s fingers scratch against your scalp like he’s looking for purchase. He’s careful not to be too brutal as he pushes you down on his cock, raising his hips to meet your rhythm. His head is thrown back, thighs tensing under your hands as his chest rises and falls with short breaths.

You have to work up to it, but once you feel loose enough, you press forward and let Erwin slip further into your throat. His voice sounds like honey when he groans a low, “Hoooly fuck,” letting his head hang down as he attempts to stare at you with unfocused eyes.

“Okay, okay, okay,” he huffs. “Keep going and we won’t get to the main event.”

You pull off of him with a lewd pop then raise to your feet. Your knees are a little sore, but it’s nothing some exercise won’t work out.

“Want me to wear a condom?”

“I don’t care. I’m clean and on birth control,” you tell him. “What about you?”

“Well, I’m clean, but I haven’t gotten my birth control prescription refilled in a wh—”

You flick his chest, and Erwin laughs as he bats you away.

“Alright. Up on the bed with you then,” he motions to the mattress. “Lay on the edge.”

You do as you're told, spreading your legs for Erwin to stand between, and you bite your lip when you feel him rub the head of his cock between your folds. You’re still wet with slick—probably dripped onto the carpet when you were giving him head—which makes the glide easier as he teases you.

“Ready?” He asks, wriggling thick eyebrows until you smile. He doesn’t wait for an actual answer before he starts pushing in, pressing your legs to your chest as he slowly seats himself in your cunt.

You’re making that face—eyebrows moving toward your hairline as if you’re worried, jaw dropping open as air is pushed from your lungs. Erwin looks focused, licking his lips as he gazes down at the way your pussy stretches around him.

He thrusts in and out at a tortuous pace, apparently waiting for you to start trembling around him before he deems you ready to take more. Every one of his movements is measured, slowly pulling out only to push in all at once. The ridge of his cock drags over your g-spot, pressing firmly against it and making you claw at his shoulders.

He feels good, satisfying, but he’s not quite as good as Mike who used to hit all your spots without even thinking about it—somehow making you beg like a whore and sing like a little girl in Sunday school all at the same time.

Still, you don’t have to lie when Erwin quickens his pace and pants, “Feel good?”

“Fuck—yes, yes, Jesus Christ—”

He’s pulling all manner of crude sounds from your pussy, wet and greedy as it sucks him back in with every rut of his hips. The angle is perfect—his height paired with the bed on stilts has him hitting your spot every time, and you feel the need to warn him, “If you keep—keep fucking me like this—god—m’gonna squirt.”

“Fuck yes,” he praises, wetting a thumb in his mouth before bringing it down to massage your clit. He only speeds up as your voice rises, body confused like your muscles don’t know if they should be flexed or relaxed.

You feel that tell-tale burning, that urge that only gets stronger the more Erwin abuses your g-spot and presses against your clit.

“Shit, shit, shit—”

Erwin groans when fluid starts to trickle from you, pushes more and more out of you while quickly swiping two fingers over your clit. The sense of relief is mind-numbing. You can’t even be upset that your sheets are gonna be damp whenever you decide to sleep.

He doesn’t slow down, doesn’t lose his rhythm, just sticks his two wet fingers into his mouth and sucks them clean.

You see it now—the skill, the appeal, why the girls always come back to him. It makes sense. He’s devastatingly handsome, especially like this, all fucked out and flushed, hair out of place, lips red and swollen from biting them.

Yeah, Erwin is fucking hot.

But, that doesn’t mean he’s your type.

Pulling out, he flips you onto your stomach, and you have to stand on your tip-toes as you lean over the bed. The burn in your calves disappears almost entirely when he slides into you from behind, pelvis pressing against your ass as he curls over you, cupping your tits and tweaking your hardened nipples as he gifts you with a series of shallow thrusts. It makes you whimper and teeter forward, unable to balance and squirm at the same time. Face suddenly buried in the mattress, your cries are muffled by the blankets. Erwin’s hands travel back to your hips, rocking you back and forth on his slick cock. He’s getting a little rougher, pressing into you as deeply as he can, and the fact that you’ll be sore from this tomorrow gives you a strange sense of satisfaction.

Only way to get over someone is to get on top of someone else, right? Or, underneath in your case. Being a little more in control wouldn’t be the worst thing, though, so…

“Erwin, Erwin, fuck—Lemme ride you.”

There is no hesitation. Erwin slips out of you and throws himself onto the bed, grinning crookedly as he watches you climb over him on unsteady limbs. His patience must have worn out some time ago, because he holds his cock with one hand, using the other to line you up with it, then guides you down his length.

You have to sit still for a second, or you would like to, but Erwin is still holding your hips, and he rocks you back and forth in his lap like he knows. He probably does. He’s probably fucked enough girls to notice exactly when their eyes pop open, when they shudder and break out in goosebumps because that pressure is hitting exactly where it needs to, and yeah, he knows.

Finding it in yourself to move again, you lean over Erwin, planting your hands on the pillows by his head, then start bouncing on his cock. He hisses in a dark, appreciative way, eyes and hands immediately drawn to your chest. He sits up enough to suck one of your nipples into his mouth, licking and pinching then doing the same to the other.

He’s so good—feels so good, knows just where to touch, the exact place to bite on your neck that makes you melt, but how—how does he know that? It’s like he has a sixth sense or—

Or, he just paid attention to the bruises that Mike used to leave on the sides of your throat. That checks out.

Fuck, he used to mark you like he wanted everyone to see, especially that last night. It was almost animalistic, like he had been—marking his territory, Zeke’s voice plays in your head. It makes you frown, and you rid yourself of the thought only to replace it with the memory of Mike’s mouth on your skin, his calloused fingertips trailing down your torso, huge hands wrapping around your legs to pull you against him—

You whine, glad it sounds like a sound of desperation rather than frustration. You just want to stop thinking about him. Just an hour—if you could go a single fucking hour—

“Hey, look at me,” Erwin commands in a soft voice.

You open your eyes, still hovering over him, and expect him to say something, but instead he just reaches up to the back of your head and pulls you into a kiss.

He’s helping move you on top of him, forcing you to take his cock over and over, and like this, so close and breathing him in, you don’t even have the room to think about Mike.

Both of your bodies are damp with sweat, and Erwin’s hair is a mess, pushed from his flushed face. He bites down on your bottom lip and tugs, only letting go to ask, “Where do you want me?”

“I don’t care,” you groan, legs and arms and pussy growing sore. You’re not surprised; you’ve been going at it for a while now.

Erwin licks your lower lip as if to soothe it after biting it, tells you, “Oh, don’t give me that option. You know where I’ll pick.”

Smiling, you straighten up then move to fit your feet underneath you so you can bounce more freely. “You can come inside, dude. It feels good to me, too.”

“I really don’t know how to respond to being called ‘dude’ when I’m balls deep in a girl.”

You shrug, “Sorry not sorry,” then raise and drop yourself, feeling in charge for the first time tonight.

“Fuck—shit—”

That feeling is short lived as Erwin goes right back to using you the way he wants. You think for about half a second that he’s finally, really losing himself, but the accuracy of his finger on your clit proves that is not the case. He’s clearly having a good time, but he isn’t at that feral stage that Mike falls into sometimes.

Before you can dwell on it for too long, you hit your peak, moaning Erwin’s name, hips moving uncontrollably as you ride out your orgasm.

He’s speaking, mumbling praise or pleas or curses, you aren’t so sure, but after about another minute of fucking into you relentlessly, Erwin comes, shooting line after line inside of you until he’s spent and twitching.

With your two previous partners, this is usually when you’d fall forward and cuddle, catch your breath and enjoy the feeling of being all plugged up.

But, it’s Erwin, huffing and blinking up at the ceiling then finally stating, “That was a dumb idea.”

It makes you laugh for some reason, probably because you agree.

The sex was great. There is a reason girls talk about him on campus, about his sexual prowess or whatever, and if you weren’t too busy suffocating in your little pit of heartbreak, thinking about your best friend nonstop, you wouldn’t mind fucking Erwin again. And, again and again.

That’s not gonna happen, though. The heat of the moment is fading, every mental faculty returning to you, and despite the fact that you’re still seated on his cock, as you look down at him, you feel absolutely no spark.

He’s ridiculously attractive, pretty fucking brilliant but with a dumb sense of humor, and you love him. You really do. He’s done a lot for you over the last semester, made it at least somewhat bearable, but… This shouldn’t have happened.

Hopefully, it quelled his curiosity, though.

“I told you it would just make you feel shitty,” he mumbles, but he doesn’t look sad. Sympathetic more than anything, resigned that he’s probably going to have to pick up the pieces of another mess.

“Yeah,” you drawl. “You were right.” Your joints pop as you stand, towering over Erwin for once and leaking his fucking cum as you hop off the bed.

“It’s been known to happen from time to time,” he jokes absentmindedly, wiping a few drops of white off his stomach then reaching for the tissues on the nightstand.

You don’t feel awkward or out of place, but you have no idea what else to say. The only thing that comes to mind is, “I’m gonna take a shower,” as you walk toward the bathroom.

Erwin moves on the bed, stretching a little before grabbing his pants and leaving you to your devices, but you pause before stepping onto the tile, turn back and pace over to him.

“Hey,” you start, and Erwin glances up from the button of his khakis. “Thanks.”

He rolls his eyes, a small smile playing at his lips, and once he’s all zipped and buttoned up, he pulls you into a hug.

“I would say any time, but we probably shouldn’t do this again.”

“Yeah, probably not.”

You breathe into the space under his collarbone, humming as he gently scratches you back, then break away. “Alright, actually gonna shower now.”

Erwin nods, “You do that,” then slaps your ass as soon as you turn around.

You look at him over your shoulder with raised eyebrows, but he just winks and tells you, “I had to. Just once,” which is fair.

You run a hot shower, scrub the shit out of your skin, lather your hair with some fancy shampoo then rinse it off. Once you go through your full routine, you’re happy to change into pajamas and slip into the comfortable bed. You don’t even mind that the comforter is a little damp in various places.

* You don’t stir when the door opens and closes, but you do when the mattress dips. Shifting slightly, you assume it’s just Erwin, falling back into your usual routine by slipping under the covers with you.

As soon as he lays behind you, though, you know it isn’t Erwin. You recognize that weight, that warmth, that smell, and you are very awake very quickly.

“M-Mike?”

All he offers is a little, “Mm,” to confirm.

You chew on the inside of your cheek, confused and clueless as to what you’re supposed to do.

“Are you drunk again?”

“No. Little buzzed.”

Why is he here, then? You want to ask—What is he doing? Why isn’t he with Rhi?

You start to turn to face him but you're stopped when Mike sets a hand on your back. It's oddly firm, keeping you in place as he grunts, "No, don't."

"What?"

"Don't turn around." His voice is hushed and choppy, like he's gritting out every syllable.

"Mike?"

"I have shit I wanna say to you, and I won't be able to if you're lookin' at me."

You have no idea how to respond to that, don't know if this is going to be a positive one-sided conversation where Mike confesses deep feelings while actually sober, or if he'll just unload all the baggage you've given him. Either way, you wish you could see his face. Something about having him laying behind you, close enough to feel his body heat, has you feeling very uneasy.

But, you nod, "Okay," trying to put on a brave face that he refuses to look at.

For a while, he just breathes. You assume it’s because he’s gathering his thoughts or maybe working up the courage to say something, but the suspense is making you shiver under your blankets. You have that terrible feeling in the pit of your stomach, the mix of anticipation and regret you get on the way up to the first drop of a rollercoaster.

“Why have you been lying to me?”

And, there’s that drop.

You swallow. “I haven’t been.”

“Bullshit.”

“Mike, I haven’t been!” You try to turn again, but his large hand is still right in the middle of your back.

“Do you think I’m fucking stupid?” His fingers close around the material of your shirt. You feel it tighten at your chest, making it hard to breathe—harder to breathe. “How are you gonna tell me that right after sleeping with him?”

You open your mouth to argue, realize you can’t make a case for yourself, and when you snap your jaw shut again, the sound of your teeth clacking seems to echo in your head.

Yesterday, you would have been able to talk to him about this and be honest when telling him you weren’t fucking his best friend. Now, though…

God, that had been such a bad decision. Why hadn’t you just listened to Erwin? Why can’t you fucking listen to anyone?

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Mike mutters. His grip loosens, but you can still feel a light tug at your shirt, the movement of fingers, and you think he might be rubbing over the material he’s still holding. “Pretty sure all of us could hear you guys goin’ at it, so… Thanks for that.”

You take a deep breath in, squeezing your eyes shut because it sinks in that this is not going to be nice conversation. This isn’t going to result in the two of you apologizing and making love confessions to each other.

“I… I’m sorry.”

Now, you’re grateful for not being able to see his face. You wouldn’t be able to stand looking at him right now, not when you know his expression will be grim—probably angry.

“I can’t really do anything with sorry,” Mike sighs. His hand drops from your back, but you make no move to turn over.

Your heart is like a hummingbird’s, beating frantically in your chest as that ache rises inside of you again, making your throat constrict and your eyes burn.

“Why’d you invite Rhi tonight?” You ask, hoping your sniffle isn’t too noticeable.

“Why does it matter?”

You suppose it doesn’t, but you still want to know, “Is it to get back at me, or is it because you’re actually into her?”

Mike scoffs. “Not that it’s any of your business, but do you think I’d be in your room at three in the fucking morning if I was into her?”

It’s probably the closest he’ll get to admitting it, but it’s all you need to hear. He’s been going out of his way to hurt you. At least any pain you’ve caused him wasn’t intentional. Until tonight, that is, and even then, you didn’t fuck Erwin to hurt him; you did it to help yourself.

Pressing your tongue to the roof of your mouth, you hold back tears and mumble a thick, “Just wanted to know.”

“Want to make sure I’m still interested? That I’ll keep waiting for you to fucking realize—”

“I have—” You turn over roughly, pinning Mike’s hand under your ribs as you glare at him, but he manages to put more distance between the two of you when he yanks his arm back and sits up.

“I can’t do this anymore,” he tells you, and you think you hear his voice waver for a second.

The orange light pouring in from the bathroom is the only way you can tell his eyes are wide—worried—and it chills all the blood in your body.

“Wh-what d’you mean?”

“I mean, I can’t fucking do this anymore,” he repeats a little louder, drawing it out like it’ll help you understand. “I cannot deal with you anymore. I can’t keep feeling this way, okay?”

“Mike…”

“No,” he stops you, acts like he has something else lined up but bites his tongue and sighs. He sits cross-legged on the bed now, hangs his head as he speaks calmly, “This semester has fucking sucked. I am angry all the time. I can’t focus in class, and I can’t play lacrosse without getting in trouble, and I can’t fuck anyone else without feeling bad—I can’t fucking do anything without thinking of you, and I’m—” he looks at the wall and shakes his head. “I’m exhausted.”

“I am too,” you tell him, voice cracking as that lump in your throat grows and bubbles, pushing hot tears from your eyes that you quickly wipe away. “Mike, I am too, so can we just—”

“No,” he cuts you off again. “Whatever it is you’re about to say—move on, pretend it didn’t happen, pick up where we left off, whatever… the answer is no.”

He seems like he already has his mind made up, came into the room with a plan, and he isn’t gonna let you talk him out of it.

So, you stay as silent as you can, sniffing and swallowing and letting the comforter catch every teardrop.

“I have been… Right in front of you this whole time. I made myself completely available for a year—was at your beck and fucking call. I was—I mean—I was good to you, right?” He sounds incredulous, like he can barely believe he’s asking.

“Yeah,” you manage. “Yeah, you were.”

“Then, why…? Zeke? And, now Erwin?”

“Do you want me to try to explain, or do you just wanna rant for a while?”

Mike glances at you, looks surprised that you’d give him the option.

“Honestly, I don’t really wanna hear it. You’ve more than proved your point.”

Indignation swirls in your stomach alongside your nausea, and you press, “My point being?”

“That I’m not good enough.”

Oh, god. No, no, no. You could understand him being angry. You’re okay with him being angry, it’s fine. But, this—this feeling of inferiority? That is so much worse. It makes you sick. This is the last thing you’d ever want Mike to feel. It’s the last thing he should feel because it’s false. He has no reason—he’s too good and too kind and too warm. He’s like… He’s fucking sunshine. He can light up a room, and he doesn’t even know it.

“Mike, n-no,” your voice breaks, making you sound like a wounded animal. “You are so, so good. You are more than enough, I promise.”

He snorts in a self-deprecating manner. “Then, why—”

“Because I’m not good enough. I fucked this up. This is my fault, and I can own that as long as you know that there is absolutely no—nothing wrong with you,” the last part comes out as a squeak as you try not to hyperventilate and cry the way your body is urging you to. Not yet.

Mike nods a few times. You can see his mouth moving from the side like he’s biting his lip or sucking his teeth until he agrees, “Yeah,” then adds a quiet, “Whatever you say, babe,” that makes you want to throw up.

Mike scoots to the edge of the bed and stands. You assume he’s about to leave, let you be alone with your thoughts, so when he rounds the corner to get to your side, you sit up a little straighter.

Half of his face is illuminated, casting shadows under his eyes, highlighting the bruise on his neck that Rhi probably left, but your gaze is trained on his as he leans down to you. A finger hooks under your chin, and Mike tilts your face at an angle, kissing you so softly that it’s painful.

His lips are warm and familiar, everything you’ve been craving as they cover yours. There’s no tongue, no force, just light pressure as he inhales through his nose.

You know what this is, what he’s doing, but you can’t prepare yourself because there’s still that tiny string of hope you’re grappling for. He just needs a break. You just need to give him space. That’s all—

“I love you,” Mike murmurs. His voice is low and honest and slices you open. “I love you so fucking much it hurts, and I just—” He brushes a thumb over your lower lip as he pulls away, and it takes everything in you not to grab his hand and beg him to stay. “It’s like I hate you too.”

You pull away to wipe your face with the blanket. There’s so much you want to say but have no idea how to articulate it, so all you can do is stare at Mike with wide, watery eyes. He… hates you. He hates you.

Straightening, Mike’s expression is suddenly nonchalant, like he just flipped a switch in his brain. “I’m not exactly the social butterfly I used to be, but I wanna have fun my last semester of undergrad—make up for the time I lost fucking brooding over you, so—”

“I’ll stop going to the Pike house,” you tell him quietly. It’s easier to make the decision yourself rather than have to hear it from his mouth: Don’t come around anymore. I don’t want to see you.

“Cool. And, if you, like, see me on campus or anything—”

You cough, maybe gag, you can’t really tell at this point because wow, this just keeps getting worse.

“I won’t bother you.”

“Cool.” He bends to press another much more patronizing kiss to the crown of your head, then starts walking toward the door. “I’m just gonna try to move on, you know? Start fresh. And, you should do the same. Shouldn’t be too hard for you.”

You don’t watch him leave, just listen for the door to click shut behind him before you crawl out of bed, turn the lights on, and start packing your things.

You and Hitch drove together, but you have no doubt that she'll be able to get a ride with Nile, and with that thought, you’re out of the ranch house and on the road just as the first rays of the morning sun start shining over the horizon.

It’s surprisingly easy for Mike to slip back into his old, obnoxious persona, and the remainder of the school year is spent partying, fucking, and cramming for tests he should have studied for weeks in advance.

But, life is short, and he’s done beating himself up over stupid shit.

Most of his PKA brothers are happy to have him “back”, and the pledges get the chance to see this of him, but there are times when Mike catches Erwin or Nile shaking their heads at him. He doesn’t mind much. They can both go fuck themselves for all he cares.

True to your word, you don’t show your face around the house. There were a few weeks after the holiday get-together where Erwin would disappear for a few hours at a time and come back either tired or angry, sometimes a combination of the two.

He attempted to bring you up in a conversation a total of one time, right in the middle of a party where Mike had been eyeing up a sorority girl. He brushed his friend off, easily telling Erwin, “Don’t fuckin’ talk to me about her,” through the crooked grin he was flashing at the little blond across the room.

Erwin didn’t bother after that, obviously deeming Mike a lost cause.

Mike knows better, though. He isn’t lost anymore. In fact, he’s found himself all over again.

Every once in a while, he’ll catch a glimpse of you on campus, but whenever that happens, he just turns around and takes a different route to wherever he’s going. He doesn’t want to give you any reason to think you can talk to him—doesn’t want to give you the chance.

He’s spent too much of his time hung up on you, too much time pining and hurting, and that hasn’t disappeared entirely. Mike can still clearly remember the way you looked at him the last night the two of you spoke, the way your tears twinkled in the dim light. He remembers how strangled you sounded while speaking, remembers the way your shoulders shook as you fought your emotions, remembers the way your lips trembled against his.

It wasn’t very satisfying. Mike left the ranch house the following morning sporting a few bruises on the outside thanks to Rhi as well as a few bruises on the inside thanks to you.

That entire night had been a clusterfuck—between Maddie and Marie storming off to cry then the little stunt he pulled by inviting Rhi, it had been much too dramatic for a gathering of that size. Mike experienced a wide variety of emotions that night, but the one that stands out the most is the searing rage that threatened to burn him from the inside, the red the clouded his vision as soon as he heard you moan Erwin’s name through the wall.

Mike had already been toying with the idea of severing all ties with you, but that’s what pushed him over the edge, watching you put on your little show when Rhi walked in only to turn around and have a grand fucking time with his best friend.

It needed to happen. Mike needed to free himself of you. It feels good. Mostly. There are still some days he comes close to giving in, just picking up his phone and calling you, but he resists, and he’s better for it.

He gets through his classes, does well on his finals after actually putting in the time to prepare for them, and by the time Mike graduates, he’s already been accepted to the graduate program of his choice and has an internship lined up. The tension between him and Erwin has faded for the most part, which is great since he’s going to grad school in the same area up north. Things look… promising—something he didn’t think possible without you by his side, something he didn’t want to be possible without you by his side.

But, now, here he is, unpacking his new apartment with the help of Scout who insists on sniffing absolutely everything. He’s halfway across the country from his parents, away from all he’s ever known, and Mike couldn’t be more thrilled about it.

He can go full days without sparing you a thought now, and he hopes—he prays—that one day he’ll think of you for the last time in his life.

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#mike zacharias x reader #miche zacharias x reader #aot x reader #aot fanfic

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imagineanythings · 3 years ago

Text

Whiskey Warmth Chapter 1 (Daryl Dixon x Reader)

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Female Reader

Word Count: 5.6k

Chapter 1/2

Before long, he could barely hear the gentle, even wisps of her breathing over the truck’s engine and there was that burning feeling again, whiskey in his throat. It went down smooth and pooled in a ball of warmth in his stomach. He didn’t hate it. Daryl has always been quiet, stoic, and a realist. On the road he meets someone with a completely different outlook on life. She's a rare ray of sunshine a world that loves to block out all light, but can she keep that light alive?

Follows the plot of the show from post CDC up until Alexandria

Warnings: Canon-typical violence

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She was all sunshine and light. Daryl had never really met anyone he’d consider an unrelenting optimist until she came along, covered in walker guts with a smile on her face that could make the world stop. They had picked her up on the road, as they drove aimlessly trying to decide what to do after the CDC. Daryl had been the one to spot her. She was walking along the side of the road, covered in remnants of the dead, looking like she hadn’t slept or had a bite to eat in days. But as soon as their little caravan showed signs of slowing, she broke out into a broad, toothy smile and suddenly Daryl was sucking wind like he had been struck in the gut. She stepped up to the window of his truck and stuck her thumb out like a hitchhiker and before falling into a small cascade of laughter at her own gesture.

“Sorry, that was really lame.” She said, still giggling. Her voice and laugh rolled like gravel, it had clearly been a while since she had spoken, but there was a brightness to her lilting tone that had Daryl leaning in to hear more, as if a few more words from her might just set the world right again. “Where’re ya headed?” Daryl finally managed to ask, once he had collected himself. “Anywhere” she said, no hesitation in her voice. She was peering into the cab of the truck, looking around, getting a read on the situation. She seemed satisfied. “I got room,” Daryl offered and there was that smile again. He ducked his head and focused on his hands in his lap. No gaze like that, no smile like that could ever really be meant for him. He squirmed uncomfortably under that kind of focus. She quickly slid into the cab of the truck and placed her pack down at her feet. With a contented sigh she settled in and he chanced a glance at her again but found her eyes still on him. Her smile had dimmed but the corners of her mouth were still distinctly upturned as she watched him eyes still alight. She wasn’t just glancing at him either, the way most people did before they move on to whatever’s really important. She was actually seeing him, observing, like she actually wanted to know more about him. He could practically feel her eyes combing over every inch of him, searching for all the answers he wasn’t willing to give up out loud. He cleared his throat and turned his attention to the road as quickly as he could, getting the truck moving again.

“Thank you,” She said quietly. It was genuine and possibly even a little desperate. He didn’t want to think about how long she had been alone out there, what had led to her being out there like that, all alone. “-‘S nothing” He said, shaking his head a bit, still refusing to meet her gaze. He could almost feel the heat of that smile singe the hair off of the back of his neck. “Y/N L/N” She said, and held her hand out to him. His eyes slid over to her quickly as he shook her hand before focusing again on the road. He tried not to notice the way the contact seemed to burn the same way her smile did. “Daryl Dixon.” He responded and he swore he didn’t even have to look, he could just feel that goddamn lazer beam of a smile lighting up the cab again. Out of the corner of his eye he saw her nod to herself a bit, satisfied with the interaction, before leaning back in her seat and pulling the baseball cap she had on down over her eyes. “Thanks again, Dixon,” She said with a soft exhale before settling in comfortably. Before long, he could barely hear gentle, even wisps of her breathing over the truck’s engine and there was that burning feeling again, whiskey in his throat. It went down smooth and pooled in a ball of warmth in his stomach. He didn’t hate it.

The group took to her instantly. She was always there with a smile and a solution, a bright side, another option when things looked grim. She was also a bit of a jack of all trades it seemed. She knew her way around a knife, could tell you what every single plant in the forest was and whether you could eat it or not, had a little sewing kit that she used to make small repairs to everyone’s clothes, could start a fire with just about nothing, the list went on and on. While she wouldn’t give up what she did before the end, she did reveal that she was a girl scout as a kid and had picked up a lot from that. She was great with Carl and Sophia and seemed to be the positive energy that was sorely needed to balance out their perpetually moody and brooding group. It wasn’t like the group was entirely falling apart before, but as soon as she showed up it felt like everyone was much closer, like there was just maybe something other than unfortunate shared circumstances keeping everyone together.

Then Sophia went missing, and Carl was shot, and suddenly everything was falling apart again. At least the farm felt like a safe place to exist for the moment while everything else went to shit. And then Daryl had to go and be an idiot and fall on his own damn arrow and that idiot Andrea fucking shot him, and his sorry ass was stuck in bed instead of out there looking for Sophia.

He woke up in a bed in the farmhouse to someone’s gentle touch on his face. She came into focus slowly with the rest of the world, a bit blurry and so soft around the edges. It was all her. All he could feel were her fingertips brushing against his skin, her breath the sole sound in his ear, that soft sort of floral scent that followed her around seemed to swaddle him. When his eyes finally came into focus, there was only her frame hovering over him, changing the bandages on his head wound. As she saw his eyes open her face lit up and he winced.

“Oh god I’m so sorry! I’m just making sure your dressings are clean, I didn’t mean to hurt you!” She said quickly, her bright smile replaced with a deep look of concern and Daryl felt something like shame twist up in his stomach. The smooth burn in his throat from her touch and her gaze had already slid downwards and turned into a knot. “Yain’t hurtin’ me woman,” He said, wincing again involuntarily at how harsh the words had come out. He felt her touch lighten despite his words. She sighed and continued to work in silence. The air felt empty without her usual positive chatter, her gentle but firm affirmations, or her kind reassurance. Daryl was never one for conversation but he’d be lying if he said he’d have objected to the sound of her voice at that moment. Instead, when she was done, she simply placed a gentle hand on his arm, planted a quick kiss on his cheek, and whispered a quiet “you get some rest now, Dixon” far too close to his ear before flashing him another heart-stopping smile and leaving him to wonder if he had maybe just up and died when Andrea shot him. She had been in and out constantly, bringing him food, changing his bandages, just checking up on him in general. She would sit in the room with him for long chunks of time, sometimes talking, sometimes just sitting in silence next to his bed while she patched up peoples’ clothes.

He had just woken up after a hazy, fitful sleep to find her sitting by his bed once again, eyes focused on her sewing. She was humming gently. It was quiet, but he could hear that familiar sweetness in the tune, the brightness that always radiated through a room in her crystal clear laugh, now present in her low and soft humming. If he had focused a bit harder, he was fairly certain he would have been able to make out the song she was humming. It was something he knew from before, but she stopped before he could manage to recall what it was.

“You’re awake!” She said excitedly, “I hope I didn’t wake you, I swear I didn’t even realize I was doing it,” she looked genuinely nervous and apologetic as the words seemed to just spill out of her mouth. Daryl had never been one for speaking up, but the reassurance was slipping from his lips before he had any chance to stop it.

“Naw, weren’t sleepin’ much anyway...” He paused for a moment and was surprised to find that he didn’t want to settle into silence like he usually did. Instead he kept going, “... ‘s nice tho... yer voice” She blushed at that, and if he had thought her smiles packed heat, he was worried he might downright melt from the feeling of making her blush like that.

“It’s nothing,” She spoke so quietly he almost didn’t hear her. She stayed quiet for a moment before shaking her head a bit and focusing back on Daryl. “How are you feeling?” She asked like she genuinely wanted to hear the answer. And not just as a nurse either, not for her medical opinion but because she really cared about how he was feeling. He wanted to pull his head under the covers like a little kid and hide from that kind of attention. But her eyes were wide on him and he couldn’t bear to let her down.

“-’M alright,” He said with a sigh, “wish ya’d just let me outta this bed,” he was being childish and he knew it, but he was too cooped up (and now even more skittish under her gaze) to care. She simply quirked an eyebrow at him and let out a stifled but still achingly melodious giggle.

“You are a handful, you know that Dixon?” She said with a shake of her head. Her sewing had been abandoned on her lap and she reached over to check the dressing on his head. He cleared his throat as she gingerly pulled the bandages off and looked at his wound.

“What were ya singin’?...when I woke up... sounded familiar,” he asked, anything to distract from her caring and gentle touch burning holes in his skin, or her face so close to his as she carefully looked at his wound.

“Oh” she paused for a moment, thinking. She had been in the middle of wrapping his head back up and she had frozen with her hands resting on either side of his face. He didn’t know how he had somehow managed to make this situation even more painful, but he was stuck practically holding his breath, eyes fixed on a little silver pendant swinging back and forth from a chain on her neck so he didn’t have to make eye contact. Finally, after a small infinity, she blessedly began to move again.

“It was Iris, by the Goo Goo Dolls,” She said with a fond smile. “One of my favorite songs back in college,” He nodded to himself as the song came back to him, but he didn’t say anything else. She was still so close to his face, like she was trying to see past whatever walls he had built up. Before he could pull away or try to squirm under her gaze she was already leaning back, picking up her sewing again. He didn’t know what she had managed to see, but he was sure it hadn’t been something good.

“Wound looks pretty clean if you ask me. Other one was looking good earlier too, shouldn’t be long now before you’ll be back on your feet.” She said with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. He grunted something affirmative and appreciative and she couldn’t stifle the laugh that slipped past her lips.

“What’re ya laughing at, woman?” He tried to be at least a bit intimidating, but she just looked at him with that real, genuine smile that he never quite could fathom being directed at him and a fondness in her eyes that was missing mere moments ago.

“I know you don’t like talking much, and that’s ok. I can do plenty of talking for the two of us. One of these days though Dixon, mark my words, I’ll get some full and complete sentences outta you,” Her tone was slightly mischievous, like she was taking on a great ambition, and hell, maybe she was. Especially after that proclamation, Daryl was determined not to make it easy for her. The slight smile he felt himself showing surprised even himself. He gave another purposeful, but this time definitely skeptical grunt and there was that laugh again. He was glad he couldn’t see himself because he was fairly certain that he was beet red from head to toe.

“Well now you’re in for it Dixon, I’ve decided to make it my personal mission. One of these days you’re gonna look around you won’t know how or when it happened, but all of a sudden you’ll realize that I’ve become your best friend.” He was slightly shocked at this proclamation, but tried his best to keep his expression steady and unconcerned.

“Ain’t really worthy of that title,” he said, he couldn’t stop from dropping his eyes down to his hands. “And that is exactly why you need a best friend like me,” She said. He didn’t have to look up to see her smile.

The farm fell. Shit hit the fan, which was something Daryl was well accustomed to even before the world ended. They made it out alive. They survived on the road for months. Everyone wasted away but they made it through. They had cleared out a prison. Things were finally looking up.

Daryl sat in one of the guard towers on watch. He would probably sleep up there too. He couldn’t get used to sleeping in a cell, even if the doors were taken off, made him feel trapped, like a caged animal. He was scanning the tree line when he heard footsteps coming up the stairs. Y/N poked her head in with a smile and he nodded to her as a hello.

“Hey Dixon, Rick told me you came right up here after your run?” She said cautiously. He nodded accompanied by a vague grunt. “He also told me that you had a nasty looking gash on your arm that you refused to let anyone check on?” She asked and he sighed, holding his arm out for her to see. “Got caught on some glass gettin’ out through a broken window. Was careless and stupid,” He said nonchalantly. She sighed and put a gentle hand on his shoulder. He tried not to flinch at the unexpected contact but he could tell by her shaky exhale that she noticed. She gave him a gentle nudge downwards and he got what she was asking. He sat down beside her on the edge of the platform, legs dangling below them. She took his forearm in her hands and examined the gash, which began a little below his elbow and extended an inch or two down his arm. It wasn’t too long, but it ran deep.

“It’s not too bad. You’ll only need a few stitches,” She said, turning away. He was about to grumble something about not bothering the old man when she turned back to him, first aid supplies in hand. “Ya don’t-” He started, but she raised a hand and cut him off. “I got you, Dixon, let me get you fixed up” She sounded stern, yet somehow still gentle and he had to force himself to shut his mouth which had, against his own wishes, just sat there, hanging open at her statement. “This is gonna sting a bit, I’m sorry,” She said, dabbing some antiseptic on the gash. She began stichting and he hissed through his teeth. She seemed to wince at his expression of pain and he immediately felt bad for worrying her. Getting the actual damn gash had hurt far more than this. She was quick and gentle and it was over within a few minutes. She let out a shaky breath when she snipped the thread and he looked down at her hands which definitely had not been shaking that much when she put the sutures in him.

“Ya did good,” he said quietly, wanting to reassure but not quite sure how. She looked up at him with a soft smile. “Sorry, I hope they didn’t hurt too bad. Haven’t done them much on real people, I got nervous.” She admitted. He shook his head. “Weren’t nothin’” He reassured and she let out another long breath. “Good.” She said, and he had a feeling that was more for herself than for him.

They sat in silence for a while, legs hanging over the edge of the platform, staring off at the treeline. The quiet felt more safe and comfortable than anything Daryl had experienced in a long time. Out of the corner of his eye he could see her turn to look over at him, so he kept his eyes focused on the treeline, afraid of what awaited in her gaze. She sighed and very slowly leaned down to rest her head on his shoulder. His entire body went stiff for a moment, almost entirely reflexively, before he could manually force himself to relax a bit. He took a deep breath and tried to let some of the tension leave his body, but it was hard when the weight of her head was right there on his shoulder and he could feel her hair brush up against his neck. He thought he was going to go crazy trying to fixate on all of it when she finally spoke.

“Daryl...” She started. She sighed quietly and he could almost hear her brain whirring, searching for what exactly she wanted to say. He could tell by her second, slightly more defeated sigh that she hadn’t quite found it. “Do you think this could really be home?” She finally asked. He let out a sigh of his own, grateful for something to focus on besides the contact but unsure of how to answer.

“Don’t know,” He said after a brief moment of contemplation. “Neither do I,” she said the words so quietly he wasn’t sure if he’d heard them correctly. He didn’t really know how to respond. She was usually the one who was so sure. She was always there with a smile and reassurance that this was the moment where everything would go right, that it would all be ok in the end. He didn’t realize that he didn’t really know how to have that kind of hope if she wasn’t the voice in his ear reassuring him.

They sat in silence for a few more moments before she sat up. He looked over at her sudden movement and she had a scrunched up, determined look on her face. Her eyes were dead set on the horizon. “It will be. It will be because you’re here and Rick’s here and we’re going to make it home.” She seemed to be reassuring herself much more than Daryl, but he didn’t mind hearing it. She looked over at him when she was done speaking and flashed him an appreciative smile. When he turned back towards the horizon and away from her gaze she leaned over and planted a kiss on his cheek. As she stood up to head back down she called over her shoulder, “See ya later best friend! Take it easy on those stitches! And get some sleep! I’ll send someone to take over for you in a couple of hours!” She turned and headed down the stairs when she was done and Daryl let out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding in since she had taken his injured arm so gently in her hands.

She got into a habit of checking in on Daryl whenever he was on watch. She would sit with him and talk to him about whatever was on her mind, or whatever was happening with the rest of the group. He would talk too occasionally. He mostly gave quick responses to whatever she was saying but every now and then she reached in with nimble fingers and pulled something more real out of him, either a story about Merle, or some thoughts on the rest of the group, even a promise to give her a proper lesson in tracking and using a crossbow. She had been fascinated with his bow since the first time she’d seen him shoulder it and was constantly harassing him for lessons. He figured now that they were in the walls not on the run, worrying about staying alive from one moment to the next and they actually had the time and energy it couldn’t hurt to see what she could do. Before he knew it, that little offhand promise had transformed into a routine, they’d work with the bow or go out and track and hunt in the early morning and she’d always come up to see him in the guard tower as the sun began to fall over the horizon. Sometimes she’d bring dinner for him, or her sewing, or just herself. If he was being completely honest, he didn’t mind any of those options.

“Daryl Dixon, I swear to god, you better start being more careful out there,” her words were chiding but there was no harshness in her tone. If that weren’t enough, her exasperated smile definitely gave her away. “Told ya, I always do my best. Shit happens tho” He said, trying to swat her hand away as she tried to move his hair out of the way to get a look at the gash on his forehead.

“Hey!” her laughter filled the air as she grabbed his wrist to keep him from swatting. “You know that I’m not leaving until I make sure you’re all good, so you might as well make it easy on yourself and let me do my thing. Don’t make me get Rick up here to hold you down.” She had put on a scowl, and he could tell she was trying to be menacing, but it was an ill-fitting mask on her. As soon as he held his hands up in surrender it was thrown away in favor of her usual smile. She moved in closer to him, moving up on to her knees to get a better look. As she gently began to clean and inspect the wound he found himself face to face again with that pendant he had noticed at the farm, and while on the run, and if he was being completely honest most days in the prison. He had always wondered what it was, but had never seen it up close since that first time in bed at the farm. It was a symbol made up of two hands holding a heart with a crown on top. The silver pendant seemed as much part of her body as her eyes, or her hands. He never saw her without it.

“Seems like it wasn’t too deep, you don’t need stitches but I do want to put a butterfly bandage on there just to be safe.” She spoke while she looked through the first aid kit, and lapsed back into silence as she found what she needed and went back to work. Before he could really think about what he was doing, Daryl reached out and gingerly took her pendant between his fingers. Her eyes snapped downwards, confusion written across her features.

“Sorry,” Daryl said, letting go quickly, mentally kicking himself for grabbing it in the first place. “-’s just a nice necklace,” he said, eyes dropping to his hands, which lay folded in his lap. She smoothed the bandage once more before sitting back down next to him. “Thank you. My dad gave it to me when I was a kid,” She said, her face a picture of fond heartache. “What’s the symbol for?” Daryl asked quietly. “It’s called a claddagh, it’s Irish. The hands represent friendship, the heart, love, and the crown, loyalty. My dad ran a marathon in Dublin when I was young. I think it was sort of a bucket list thing. He brought back this necklace for me. I used to wear it everywhere as a kid, I mean I really loved it. Then in high school I thought I was too cool and it got shoved in a drawer for a while until I found it again in college. I’ve worn it ever since.” She brushed away a tear that was poised to fall and sighed. “Especially when shit went down, I don’t know where my parents are, if they’re alive at all...” she paused, chest heaving, words thick. He could see her denying tears. “Still feels like they’re with me,” she finished with a soft smile. How she could manage to smile after that, he had no idea.

“Sorry to bring it up,” he sighed. “Didn’t mean to make ya sad,” He dropped his eyes once again. “Stop doing that.” She sounded genuinely annoyed. He looked up, confused. “Doin’ what?” He couldn’t fight the scowl that made its way onto his face. “Gettin’ all down on yourself! Whenever you’re beating yourself up you always look down like that! Like you’re ashamed, and I’m sick of it! Dixon, you’ve got nothing to be ashamed of!” She was almost yelling now, and he had to fight the urge to lower his gaze again. He settled for scowling at the horizon. He stayed quiet, unsure of how to respond. She placed a gentle hand on his cheek and turned his head so he was forced to meet her eyes.

“Daryl, you’re the best of us. I mean it. It kills me that you don’t see it. Please, just...” She trailed off, searching his eyes as he practically held his breath. Maybe if he didn’t breathe, didn’t let anything in or out, she wouldn’t be able to see through him, whatever ridiculous and righteous illusion she had created in her mind would remain untouched, unharmed. “For me Daryl, please, try not to be so hard on yourself.” “I don’t-” he started, trying to look down again but she immediately cut him off. “No. I’m not done.” She held his gaze with a look that said Look away Dixon, I dare you. “I don’t pick just anyone to be my best friend, Dixon. Believe it or not I don’t just go around gettin’ chummy with every redneck who picks me up from the side of the road.” He couldn’t help the surprised, sort of strangled laugh that escaped him. His reaction drew a gentle, warm smile across her lips and even after a year of knowing her he still couldn’t fight the heat that ran beneath his skin whenever she directed that small slice of sunlight towards him.

She leaned in and planted a quick kiss on his cheek, something she had incorporated into their little routine (not that it made his heart slow or his face flush any less when she did it the first time or the 50th time), and sighed. “I’m sorry for flipping out on you. I just care about you and I hate seeing you doubt yourself like that.” “-‘S ok.” He said, forcing himself to hold her gaze and not lower his head like he wanted so badly to do. She narrowed her eyes a bit as she studied his face, and he could practically hear her mind moving, analyzing him. It scared him, he wasn’t used to feeling so seen. She seemed to realize that he wasn’t going to say any more and pulled him into a hug. He stiffened immediately, and she pulled back slightly before he forced himself to relax. She let out a small laugh that was more awkward than genuine, no humor behind it.

“I feel like I’ve done enough damage for one day,” Voice apologetic as she moved to stand but instinctively Daryl reached out and grabbed her wrist. He was careful to keep his grip light, not forcing her to stay but asking. “Ya haven’t. Ya could stay... if ya want” He said, voice barely above a whisper. She broke out into a full grin and lowered herself back down to sit beside him. She leaned her head on his shoulder and he felt some of the tension in his body melt away. “You really are the best of us.” She said with a small sigh, and he responded with a small grunt that drew a burst of giggles out of her, which slowly dissolved into comfortable silence as the sun began to disappear over the horizon.

For a while this life at the prison almost felt too good to be true. Of course it was. Reality always came crashing down, weighing heavily on his shoulders in the end.

The governor came crashing through the gates with a goddamn tank and everything went to shit again. Except this time he didn’t have her there to reassure him that it would all turn out alright. He had Beth, which was a close second in terms of optimism, but then suddenly he didn’t even have her and everything felt like it was falling apart around him. He was completely alone, his family all likely dead, and he had fallen in with a group that made him feel more like his daddy than he had ever wanted to feel. He stuck it out with those assholes for no reason other than that tiny glimmer of hope that Beth was still out there somewhere. If nothing else, he owed it to that girl to get her out of whatever mess he landed her in in the first place. And then he found Rick, Carl, and Michonne and suddenly his reasons to live had multiplied by three. Terminus was a flash of hope. It didn’t bring him any closer to finding Beth, but Rick pointed out that if anyone from the group survived and found the signs, they would likely be heading there as well.

The train tracks had been easy enough to follow. As the compound came into view, for just a brief moment Daryl allowed himself to hope. But once inside that hope began to very quickly whittle away. It was too quiet, and there was something off about that Gareth guy. And suddenly they were spotting Hershel’s pocket watch, and the riot gear, and Maggie’s poncho and a silver necklace with a claddagh charm and then Daryl felt himself begin to drown. Everything that had kept him going, the small spark of hope that he had allowed to live inside him had been drenched. Now all he felt was steam rising, his insides boiling, but before he could do anything about it the gunfire began and then they were herded towards a boxcar.

Daryl wasn’t sure what he had been expecting, but his whole family corralled into one place had definitely not been it. They were all there except Carol and baby Judith, two losses which weighed heavily on the entire group. But everyone else was there and safe and alive. He scanned the room, giving hugs and looking people up and down, making sure everyone looked ok. He moved slowly through the car, through each of his family members, before he came to a stop in front of a figure balled up in the corner. Her face was hidden but her frame was unmistakable.

“Y/N?” he asked, and her name on his lips again felt like coming back to a place you’ve once called home. She slowly picked your head up, and he immediately noticed the dark circles under her eyes, and the way her cheeks looked gaunt and hollow. But when she saw that it was really him, that Daryl Dixon was really standing in front of her, her eyes widened. She leapt to her feet with surprising speed and threw her arms around him. His arms wrapped around her body and when he lifted her off of her feet for a moment he could have sworn that the weight of the world wasn’t all that much to hold. She pulled away and placed her hands on either side of his face.

“I can’t believe it’s really you” Tears began to pool in her eyes and she pulled him back in for another hug, face buried in his shoulder. He could feel her shoulders shake and a patch of wetness grow on his shirt. “Thought you were gone.” She whispered. He shook his head and brought a hand up to stroke her hair. “Naw, ain’t gettin’ rida me that easy now, womanl” He said quietly. After a few more moments she pulled away and just stared at him with those wide, shocked eyes. “Promise I ain’t goin’ anywhere, I’ll still be here if ya blink” She nodded and let out a shaky exhale. “I missed you,” she whispered just as Rick and Carl made their way over to give her a hug. “Missed ya too” he said.

He took a few steps back, and only when he stepped away did he notice the cold emptiness nipping at him, like something was missing. He watched her hug Rick and Carl, he watched the most important people in the world to him all come back together in a single moment, and yet he felt cold. She was crying. She was hugging people. She was telling everyone how much she missed them.

She wasn’t smiling.

#The walking dead #Daryl Dixon #Daryl Dixonxreader #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon/reader #reader/daryl dixon #reader insert #slow burn #friends to lovers #fluff #comfort #fanfiction #writing #walking dead fanfiction #daryl dixon has a huge crush

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depressing-debbie · 3 years ago

Note

Oddly specific Modern Erwin headcanons please? 👀

ABSOLUTELY, I'm always down to write for Erwin :)

Oddly Specific Modern Erwin Headcanons

He drinks one cup of black coffee every morning. No more, no less, and no sugar.

Definitely puts on sports channels every weekend. He doesn't really know a lot about sports, but he just kind of likes the vibes. Especially baseball

He's a literal dad, and grilling is no exception. He probably brags about how nice his grill is with his neighbors and throws giant neighborhood barbecues every summer.

During the week, he has no concept of dressing down. It's business casual, leaning towards dressy.

On weekends?? Khakis.

Definitely still has one of those really old home phones. He technically has a cellphone that Hange bought for him, but he still hasn't set it up.

Reads the actual physical newspaper every week, and will NOT read the comics. He says they are for children (and Hange)

He joined facebook a few years ago, and his posts are absolutely HILARIOUS. It's mostly bad quality pictures of him and Levi, inspirational quotes with emojis, and minion memes.

Reads books about boats and brings it up in conversation as much as humanly possible.

His lawn is PERFECT. There is not a single blade of grass out of place, but there are also NO flowers. It's just a lawn with one small bush.

He has those absurdly complicated passwords that no human being could ever remember, so he has to write them down in a little notebook that he keeps in a drawer in the kitchen. The real problem arises when he can't find the notebook, which happens way too often

He doesn't have any pets, but he will point out every dog that he sees go past him. If he gets the opportunity to pet the dog, he will literally hold a whole conversation with them. "My name is Erwin. I see your name is Rufus. I live down the street, perhaps you've seen me. You are very lovely. Well, Rufus, it was nice to meet you. Enjoy your day." Everyone thinks he's insane.

He is absolutely obsessed with shitty clickbait articles, he spends way too much time reading them.

He's got one of those really old alarm clocks that's SO loud, and it still barely wakes him up in the morning.

Spends almost exactly half an hour on his hair every morning.

Takes like six different kinds of vitamins every morning, and drinks orange juice. It's a routine.

He walks around his house in fluffy slippers, and he's definitely forgotten to take them off once or twice when leaving the house.

This man lives at whole foods

He buys like ten boxes of girl scout cookies every year, and he claims its "to support young generations of leadership and ingenuity" but he really just likes the shortbread cookies, and the lemon ones of course.

#attack on titan #attack on titan headcanons #aot #aot headcanons #shingeki no kyojin #shingeki no kyojin headcanons #snk #snk headcanons #aot erwin #erwin smith #commander erwin #modern erwin #levi x erwin #eruri #erwin headcanons #oddly specific headcanons

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randomtwistedlife · 4 years ago

Text

Two Ghosts

Pairing: Reiner Braun x Female Reader

Summary: You are on a recon mission in Marley and run into Reiner. Little angsty.

Note: I just finished the anime and the manga and there are a lot of feelings and hence, this one shot was born. One huge spoiler regarding Reiner. If you know what I’m talking about, you can read this. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, spoiler ahead. POV shifts between reader and Reiner.

Based on Two Ghosts by Harry Styles

Feedback is appreciated.

We're not who we used to be

We're just two ghosts standing in the place of you and me

Trying to remember how it feels to have a heartbeat

You pulled the hood of your cape onto your head as you weaved across the sea of people. Glancing at the setting sun, you let out a curse. You were late. His letter, which was tightly clutched in your hands, had instructed you to meet him at the specified address tonight as soon as the sun set. Even though he hadn’t written a lot about himself, most likely afraid that the letter would fall into the wrong hands, you knew it was him from his handwriting and the way he wrote the words.

Jean was here. In Marley.

You had arrived in Marley a little over a month ago on a recon mission. The mission was simple — infiltrate Marley, specifically Liberio, because that’s where the Warrior program was, scout the high ranked officials, and understand the socio-political situation. It was the solitude and the feeling of otherness that was hard to deal with. Everyone on this side of the sea hated you. Well, not you specifically, but your kind. You just wanted to talk freely with someone. Though Eren was here as well, he wasn’t an option. He had been here almost as long as you, but visiting him at the hospital would raise too many eyebrows considering Eren’s secret identity was not supposed to have any family. And so you stayed away. But now Jean was here.

Your face hurt from smiling so much. It was hard to remember the last time you had been this happy. You would tell him all the information you had been able to gather till now and then, you would drink and eat and have fun with your friend. Just one night of fun - you deserved that after everything. You had already thought of all the questions you were going to throw at him. You wanted to know how everyone was doing back home — Armin, Mikasa, Connie, Sasha, Commander Hange, and Captain Levi. Thinking about your home and your friends left you with a sense of longing. Closing your eyes, you brushed aside the melancholic feeling. You will reunite soon. Walking a little faster, you looked up to locate the bar you were supposed to meet Jean at and that is when you bumped into him.

~~~

Reiner sighed. He had just dropped an enthusiastic Gabi at her home, and all he wanted to do now was get drunk and fall asleep. Sometimes, being around Gabi was tiring for him. The girl was hell-bent on inheriting his Armoured Titan thinking that it was the biggest honour in the world. How could he tell her otherwise? He himself didn’t know what he believed. He did, however, know that he didn’t want his cousin to go through what he did. But how does he explain all the anger, and the sadness, and the guilt that is buried deep inside of him to a 12-year-old when he himself couldn’t make any sense of his feelings?

If he hadn’t been lost in his thoughts and was watching where he was going, he probably would have avoided the collision altogether. When he finally realised what was happening, it was too late. There she was, her face covered behind her cape and walking straight towards him. The moment she crashes into him, Reiner holds her shoulders to help balance her. As he does so, he notices the piece of paper she was holding fall down on the road.

She apologises, so does he. As she walks past him, he bends down to pick up the piece of paper and calls out to her.

“You dropped something.”

She turns, and the world around him fades away.

~~~

You have been on enough battlefields to understand what people mean when they say, “Time moved slowly” but this was the first instance you fully understood what “Time stood still” meant. You don’t know how long you have been standing on the street. Jean’s letter left forgotten in his hands. He cannot have that letter; it could compromise the entire operation. But at this moment, you can’t seem to care. You should snatch the letter and run away, but you don’t. You just stand there staring into his hazel eyes.

Long gone is the young boy that you looked up to. His hair is longer and his sharp cheekbones are now slightly covered under his goatee. You had grown up in the last four years, but so had he. His eyes were wide and staring back into your own. You opened your mouth to say some something - anything - but words wouldn’t come out. You could hear a loud thudding - maybe it was your heart or maybe your head, you weren’t sure. Your mind was blank all because he was standing in front of you.

Reiner Braun. The boy you had fallen in love with. The boy who was responsible for the death of your family and friends. The boy - no, man - who could still make your heart flutter.

You had known that there was a high possibility of running into him, but you still volunteered to be a part of the infiltration. Maybe you wanted to run into him. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Move! Speak! Do something! You screamed internally, but you felt frozen to your spot.

“Y/N,” he spoke, his voice shaky.

Your heart skips.

“Y/N,” he calls out to you.

The sound of his voice accelerated the already rampant pounding of your heart, and it felt like it would burst any second.

He took a step towards you. You took a step back.

“No,” your voice soft but firm.

You couldn’t face him after everything he had done.

~~~

The one thing Reiner had wanted more than anything in his life was to see you again. Of course, he never expected that to ever come true. Ever since his return from Paradis, he has spent a countless number of nights thinking about how if he ever met you again, he would tell you everything and you would forgive him. He never expected that to happen either, but isn’t that why they are called dreams? Late at night, he could hope to see you again. In his dreams, he could imagine spending a life with you.

And now here you were. Standing right in front of him.

The young girl he had fallen in love with was now a beautiful woman. Not that you weren’t beautiful before. Back when he was pretending to be a soldier of Paradis, he had seen you covered in blood, sweat and grime several times and you were still the most beautiful human to ever grace the planet in his eyes. Your hair, which looked much shorter than the last time he had seen you, was framing your face. Besides the guarded expression that you wore, your eyes were locked with his own.

“No,” you spoke as you stepped away from him.

His throat went dry. His palms moistened and he could hear the crinkle of the piece of paper he was holding as he clenched his hands. Reiner couldn't be certain that this wasn't a dream. His hands were itching to touch you, to feel the smoothness of your skin, and to confirm that you were indeed standing in front of him.

“I —” he spoke again, but stopped. What could he even say? That he was sorry? A simple ‘I’m sorry’ wasn’t enough. He knew he could never atone for all the violence he had ensued; for all the people that were dead because of him. The apology that was stuck in his throat was too little, too late.

You tilted your head slightly, and Reiner saw how your guarded expression slowly changed into something else. Your eyebrows narrowed and your face flushed a deep shade of red.

“Reiner,” you spat out his name.

Although he was expecting it, the venom in your voice startled him. The air between the two of you had shifted, becoming much more tense. His glance flickered from you to his surroundings. He could feel their watchful gaze on the two of you. Everybody in Liberio knew who he was. The people walking by seemed quite interested in what was happening between the Armoured Titan and the woman he was with. Looking back at you, he realised things could go south quickly. Hastily, he reached for your arm, without giving you a chance to fight him, and dragged you to the nearest alley, away from prying eyes.

“Back off, Braun.”

“You shouldn’t be here.”

“And you shouldn’t have been at my home, but things don’t always happen according to plan now, do they?” you retorted.

“I know this doesn’t count for anything, but I’m sorry. If I could go back in time, I would do things differently,” he admitted.

You looked away, breaking off the eye contact, “Well, you can’t.”

The slanting rays of the setting sun shone on your face, making you seem more alluring than ever. He was so screwed.

~~~

His admission caught you off guard. Did he regret doing what he did? Was he genuinely sorry? He did apologise, but how could you trust what he said? You had trusted him once, with your life and your heart, and look what happened.

“Was any of it real?” you asked.

Your eyes were trained on the cat rummaging for scraps in the alley dumpster, but your ears were straining to hear his answer. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, specially if he confirmed he had merely used you for his mission.

“Yes. All of it. All of us,” he replied.

You turned your head and risked a peek in his direction.

“I — The mission was to break the wall, blend in, and bring the Founding Titan to Marley. You were never supposed to be a part of it.”

His eyes were focused on you.

“I tried really hard, you know. I tried not to fall in love with you. Annie and Bertolt realised what was happening as well and tried to keep me away from you, but we all know how that worked out,” he chuckled ruefully. “You were fierce when you protected and stood up for your friends. You were sweet and kind and understanding. You had been through so much —” his eyes cast downward “ — and yet you still could love and be kind.”

He looked back up at you. “By the time I realised what you meant to me, it was too late.”

You screwed your eyes shut. No, this couldn’t be happening. Four years. It had taken you four years to heal your heart and here he was breaking down your walls all over again.

“Stop,” you whispered.

“You deserve the truth, (Y/N)” he spoke softly.

You shook your head and opened your eyes. They burned with unshed tears.

“I never meant to hurt you, and I would spend the rest of my life making things right. I loved you.”

All this time you had been telling yourself that the bond you had shared with Reiner was nothing but a lie. He never cared about you. You were simply a means to an end for him. But the words spilling from his mouth were enough to turn your world upside down. You looked up as you felt the heat from his body. You could feel his breath on your face. Were you two standing this close before?

“I love you,” he whispered.

Your heart skipped a beat, your eyes jumping from his lips to his eyes. Reiner leaned in and you let him. You parted your lips and felt him washing over you like a wave of warmth. Your entire body tingled. The kiss started soft and slow with your arms locked with his. He took a step back when the two of you came back for air.

“I’m sorry, I needed to do that —” he started speaking, but you placed your hands behind his neck and pulled him in.

He wrapped his arms around your waist, holding your body close. He pulled you in, claiming your mouth once again, this time hungry and intense, until your knees gave in. His hands were on your hips and he lifted you up as if you weighed nothing. He moved the two of you so your back touched the wall. His body was pressing into yours and you inhale his scent. He still smelled like the boy who won you over years ago.

The two of you come back for air and he presses his forehead against yours.

There were a million thoughts running through your head. Reiner couldn’t know why you were in Marley, he couldn’t know about your friends being in Marley either, and oh shit, you were supposed to meet up with Jean. But right now, none of that mattered to you. All that mattered was that Reiner was here, with you, kissing you.

“I love you too, Reiner.”

~~~

If an ex who killed your friends and family tries to walk back into your life, please run far, far away.

#reiner x reader #reiner x y/n #reiner fanfic #reiner oneshot #aot x reader #aot fanfiction #snk fanfiction #snk oneshot #aot oneshots #jean kirstein

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bukojuiice · 4 years ago

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rose-colored boy

ೃ pairing: (eren jaeger x fem! reader)

ೃ tags: college/modern au, fluff, humor, love at first sight cliché, mikasa is your cute little sister, armin, sasha, jean, and connie are your besties, and eren is a himbo who works hard and has terrible friends.

ೃ warnings: strong language and mild suggestive content

ೃ part 1/??? of my (eren x reader) college au!

ೃ word count: 3000 words

ೃ my nav → my mha writing masterlist

ೃ This is my very first snk x reader fic! so i hope you bear with some errors! qwq

i’ve been following the anime ever since it was released in 2013, and this is the first time i’m going to be writing for it. this month’s manga chapter really took me out so why not channel my sadness thru writing an fluff! eren fic? 🤧 i hope you enjoy either way!

ೃ please do reblog if you enjoyed!! (feel free to add tags too because i love reading them and my heart swells with happiness when people love my work!)

ೃ in which (Y/N) (L/N), 20, still in school, and regretfully-unregretfully-her little girl scout sister's assistant, meets eren jaeger in an embarrassing too innocent door-to-door cookie sale whilst a humiliating party was going on.

cookies, suspicious maybe-maybe-not pot brownies, meddling little sisters and friends, “oh my god they were roommates” vine on replay 24/7, homework, tears, and fairy lights bring them together.

“I’m going to enter now.”

“Ahhh yes, please!”

“Shut up, please.” Eren muttered to himself as he tossed and turned around in his bed, but still couldn’t get to sleep. “When will they ever stop doing this?” Why did Eren’s next-door roommate and his girlfriend have to do this five times a day? They had a lot of stamina for 21-year-olds who didn’t have anything better to do.

Eren’s thoughts eventually brought him to his parents.

His parents- did they even exist?

For pretty much 14 years of Eren’s life, they had been out of town or out of the country. His older brother, Zeke, blonde, bespectacled, tall, and sometimes too far up his own ass older brother who Eren is able to confide in from time to time, recently got a girlfriend whom he’s hopelessly in love with (they’re even thinking about getting married which isn’t really a problem since the girl is genuinely nice to his older brother so Eren is good with her.), so… things in the family had been a bit rough and busy to say the least.

Communication with his parents wasn’t always the best.

Eren would study late at night back when he was seven, because no one bothered to help him with homework. Along with the fact that he wasn’t the brightest kid in class, and he knew that very well, but he had ambition and he was determined to make it big in the world. He focused more on sports, particularly Soccer in middle school and high school, and tried to balance that with his studies. After being granted a Sports Scholarship from Shigashina University, Eren decided to rent and share a flat, living with his batchmates who he met at a mixer party (before Uni started as this whole meet and get to know each other kind of thing) and whom he was so quick to call his ‘friends’, just so that he could get out of the hellhole that was his own house.

But things turned out much worse than expected.

Eren thought that the ‘College Life’ was to focus more on pursuing your future career and make a name for yourself but… it was the other way around.

He thought that after Freshmen year, everyone would take things seriously. Sure, have some drinks, get wasted after finals, or have house parties from time to time. But he was unfortunately, dragged into the wrong crowd. After attending around 5 parties in the first few months of being generalized as one of the infamous and pompous freshman archetypes present in every university, he called it a year and spent the rest of his nights doing homework, projects, playing video games, staying at the school soccer field until 10PM while his roommates were probably smoking crack and not caring about the number of units they needed to take for each of their goddamn subjects.

He was ~living the life~ and now that he regrets most of the decisions he made in freshman year, the only option that he has left was to wait until his third year and move to a different apartment.

Now, here he was, Sophomore year, nearing the end of the semester, and very much eager to get the hell out of here and also study for his upcoming finals on Constitutional Law II, as his professor, Mr. Erwin Smith, was going to throw hands if one of his students score below average on the exam.

“EREN MICK JAEGER! BROOOO!” Eren winces when he hears the shrieky and annoying voice of his flatmate Thomas Wagner, calling out to him. “Wanna go and party with us?” Eren smiles halfheartedly, shaking his head, “Ah, no thanks. I have a game tomorrow and finals coming up on Thursday.” Thomas smirked and wrapped his arm around Eren, “Oh fuck that, live the college life ya spoon.”

“No, really I have to study.”

Thomas frowned and groaned, “Oh god, you’re such a killjoy. Fine, if that’s what you want. Don’t blame us if we tell you to buy some beer down the block.”

Eren cracked an obviously fake laugh and pushed Thomas away from him, “You’re an ass. That only happened once and that was when we first met. Don’t you even dare try to ask me to buy you shit again.”

“Woah. Woah. Woaaaaaah. That was a joke Eren. Loosen up will you?” Thomas raises an eyebrow, clearly taken aback by the brunette’s sudden aggressiveness. He hums Moves like Jaeger by Maroon 5 as a way to spite Eren whilst passing by him down the staircase.

The brunette shook his head, tying his hair into a bun carelessly and sprinting into his room without uttering another word.

Eren just wanted to study. He really did.

Instead, his roommates, all of them, mind you, were all partying in the lounge and the music was too loud and Eren was too annoyed.

They did manage to bring him out and make him stay in the kitchen where he mindlessly glared at anyone who came in. He sighed and tapped his pen restlessly amongst the insane amount of books on the table.

There was a knock.

His roommate, Floch, came in the kitchen with his girlfriend who Eren couldn’t even name with all the women he has brought into the apartment. She was hanging onto his arm and giggling. Floch’s eyes were red and his speech very slow and lazy. "Eren!" he said with a sly grin.

Eren raised an eyebrow, shooting him an irritated look. "What now Floch? Are you here to tell me to take a shot again?" The ginger-haired’s girlfriend giggled once again and kissed Floch’s cheek. Floch laughed and swatted her away, though he missed by a long shot. "Someone's at the door," a thumb pointing to the den. "wouldchumind ge'in it?" another giggle. The girl nodded sloshily. "Yesss! Erenieee get 'em door, please. Be a dearrrrr."

Eren frowned and stared at them menacingly, earning no reaction from the two as they were mad drunk. "You were just in the den," Floch’s eyes widened. "My lovey wovey-we was in the den?" His girlfriend’s mouth went into an O. "Di'nt notice tha'!"

Eren sighed and stood up. He miraculously got through the throng of bodies and to the front door. "Yes?" he called out exasperated, not knowing who was outside.

"Do you want cookies?"

Eren turned and looked to see a little raven-haired girl, a girl scout no less, a blonde-haired boy pulling on a trolley who looked significantly shorter than him, wearing rimmed glasses, and an overall appearance whom his “friends” would immediately label as a nerd they had to be a few feet away from if they saw him and lastly, a girl who looked very tired and very done with life.

Beautiful (h/c)-colored hair, her eyes looked like the starry night sky, twinkling as he catches her gaze and a smile that looked forced, but warm all the same.

A girl who was just absolutely fucking gorgeous.

Eren was captivated. His heart was beating like crazy and he could feel his ears turn red. He would make a fool of himself if he looked red as a tomato right now.

"Um," The girl peeked inside and grimaced, squeezing the hand that was her little sister's shoulder and catching Eren’s gaze. "Mikasa, I don't think these kinds of guys would want cookies."

“Unless they're pot cookies,” Eren almost said. Mikasa pouted and widened her eyes at Eren.

The older girl crouched down and frantically covered her little sister’s eyes. "Nopenopenope, Mi, don't pull that on him."

"But (Y/N)!"

(Y/N).

Her name was (Y/N).

Eren smiled sincerely (for the first time today) and leaned back inside to the drawer by the door to grab the extra cash he and his roommates put there for emergency pizza and stuff. "You know what? You're absolutely brilliant at selling cookies. I'll take one."

Mikasa smiled back at him cheekily and tugged her older sister’s hand. "See, (Y/N)?! He wants some! Go get 'em!”

The raven-haired girl then turned to the blonde teen, practically jumping up and down. “Armin look! We sold another one!"

“We did!” The boy who was apparently named Armin, clapped his hands together, then gave the little girl a high five. “You’re a natural at this Mikasa!”

(Y/N) looked at Eren, then Mikasa, and sighed. She grabbed a bag from the trolley Armin was dragging around and pulled out a box of cookies. Eren grabbed them slowly from her, their hands almost touching as he gave (Y/N) a small smile. The (h/c) girl blushed lightly, though not visible enough for the brunette to notice.

"Hope to see you again!" Eren called out when the siblings said their thank you's and bid farewell.

And, this time, even for the slightest moment, Eren’s serotonin levels were going straight through the roof. His heart was still beating loudly, almost in sync with the trash music his roommates were blaring on the speakers. and for a moment, even just for a moment.

He felt genuine happiness that he hasn’t felt in a very long time.

The three of you continue to walk animatedly, now that the coast was clear and the guy from earlier wasn’t within earshot, your blonde friend just had to break the silence.

Armin smiles, pushing his glasses up to the crook of his nose. “(Y/N), you did see how he looked at you right?” The blonde chuckles softly, catching his best friend off guard.

You blinked. “Him?” You try to stop yourself from smiling, blushing profusely. “Geez Armin, I don’t even know his name yet.”

“I’ll bet you 100 bucks that he goes to our Uni.”

“Even if he does, it’s not like we’ll talk to him or anything. Judging from the place he lives in and the people he was hanging out with, we’re in two completely different worlds.” You shook your head in denial, holding Mikasa’s hand, your interlocked arms swinging playfully. Armin gives you a knowing look in response.

Mikasa continued to wave back at the boy whom they had just sold cookies too. (Y/N) looked over her shoulder and smiled. “Wasn’t he nice (Y/N)?” Mikasa asks her older sister. (Y/N) returned her sister a small smile, “He was.”

"I hope we see him again!"

"I'm sure we will."

The day of Eren’s dreaded finals finally arrive.

He has prepared tirelessly for this. Hours upon hours of hard work. But, before he finally gets his well-deserved sleep, he has a few more hours to cram and absorb more knowledge for his exams.

So, what better way to do so than head straight to the library as soon as it opens at 6 AM?

This time, no one was going to bother him. No annoying roommates and no distractions.

Eren heads over to a table near the coffee and snack machines. He puts down his bag on a seat next to him, and begins to study once again. Looking through the course materials and the lessons that he still didn’t quite understand. Eren was so absorbed with studying and relying on his gut feeling that no other student in this university would think of going to the library at 6 AM on the day of finals… then he’s wrong. Very wrong.

“Sasha, should you even be eating mashed potato this early in the morning?” Armin asks the brunette worriedly, a huge tone of concern in his voice.

“Armin! Don’t chu worry! I ate heavy breakfast! Bacon, Eggs, and Toast! Did you not see me in the kitchen!?” She reassures her blonde friend, continuing to scoop up the mashed potato on a reusable cup.

“Liar.” Connie hissed, narrowing his eyes. “I was awake since 4 AM. Not once did I see you sneak into the kitchen until (Y/N) woke you up.”

“Atatata. Can we… stop with the negative vibes for a second?” Jean tries to become the mediator by holding his hands up against his two friends who were about to start an argument. “It’s finals week. We have to keep a clear mind, body and soul-“

“Jean, you know that’s BS.” You yawn widely, still practically half-asleep.

“Oh, come on! Can’t you just let me be positive just this once!? If we fail this exam I’m going to blame you!“

The five of you continue to talk mindlessly on the way to the library. Connie pushes the glass door open, very much excited to have this huge library all to yourselves.

Until…

There was someone already there.

Your eyes immediately come into contact with Eren’s. His radiant jade eyes staring into yours, mouth practically agape, his hands holding on to wooden chopsticks as the hot air of instant ramen breezes through his face.

“Oh?” Connie blinks. “Guess we aren’t the first ones here then.” He whistles.

“(Y/N)!” Armin nudges you in the arm in an attempt to tease you. “Guess your wish came true huh? We did see him again! By himself too!”

“W-what am I supposed to do exactly?” You turn to Armin, speaking in a hushed whisper.

“Say thank you to him! Offer him to go on a boba date or something!”

“You got the Sasha seal of approval (Y/N)! He’s hot!” Sasha motions you a thumbs up and you can’t help but feel yourself already wanting to die of embarrassment.

The four of them slightly push you towards his table. With your friends cornering you like this, there was no way of escaping this.

All you had to do was talk to him and properly thank him for buying cookies from your little sister.

That was it.

No need for any extra ad-libs or poor and bad attempts of flirtation.

Just thank him (Y/N).

You can do this.

You breathe a hefty sigh then approach his table with confidence. The brunette continues to look up at you whilst turning the page of his reviewer that he wasn’t even looking at.

“Hi again! I just wanted to thank you properly for helping my sister and I, out the other day. Mikasa really appreciated the gesture you did for her, and she couldn’t stop talking about you to our parents since we saw you. You see, none of the other girl scouts want to be paired up with my sister because they think she’s an emotionless and monotonous freak. They’re really mean to her but she really wants to continue being a girl scout so my friend and I accompany her whenever she has to sell cookies!”

“It’s N-no problem!” Eren quickly replies, running a hand through his hair. “Why would they say such horrible things to your sister like that? Judging from the way she acted in front of me, she was quite the opposite. In a positive way of course! Those kids are just assholes who are intimidated because another girl their age is seemingly better than them.”

You giggle in response. “Thank you. I’ll tell Mikasa that you said that!”

There was short silence for a few seconds until you realized that you forgot to say something.

“Ah! I’m (Y/N) (L/N) by the way!”

“Eren.” He smiles, reaching his hand out to you for you to shake. You grip his strong and calloused hand firmly, and Eren could feel his ears turning red again while you were about to blush as red as a tomato.

You hear your friends snickering in the background and you took this as a sign to go back to your table. “I guess, I’ll see you around campus?” You ask, tilting your head. For, you actually really wanted to see him again after this.

“Yea! I’ll be seeing you!” He grins widely, watching you leave where he was seated. His smile then envelops into a frown as soon as you went away then he goes back to studying.

“(Y/N)! (Y/N)!” Connie whispers loudly, calling you over by waving his hand. Why was this dunce being so painfully obvious? “Ask him if he’s looking for an apartment or if he wants to live with us!”

“Already!?” You ask in disbelief, a bit shocked by what Connie had just said. He scoots to the left, as you take a seat between him and Sasha. “Guys, you’ve known him for like… 3 minutes. Only Armin and I actually interacted with him before this.”

“He has to pass the vibe check first.” Jean shrugs, sipping on an iced expresso. “But, yeah, he does seem alright from a few feet away.”

“Come on (Y/N)! Ask him!” Sasha nods approvingly. “It’s weird that he’s studying alone like this while we’re in another table trying to remain unaware that he looks lonely as hell.”

“UMmMM… maybe he wants to study alone because that’s the only way he can focus? That’s a thing that normal people do, Sasha.” You remark sarcastically, trying to think up of more reasons to not approach him again.

Armin clears his throat, “Look, (Y/N), it won’t hurt to try right? Besides, don’t you feel a tiny bit sorry for him? He does seem lonely and you do have a crush on him so… more ways to interact with him right?”

Your shoulders slump and you breathe a defeated sigh. “Okay okay fine.” You make your way to Eren’s table again but before you do, you turn to your friends. “By the way, I don’t really have a crush on him just yet. I just find him cute okay?”

“Yeah yeah.” They say in unison as you continue to walk back to the brunette’s table.

“Hi again Eren!” You wave and try your best not to fumble or look painfully obvious that you were infatuated by him. He looks up and you try your best not to smile like a weirdo.

“Hm?” He hums.

“Would you like to come over to our table and study with us?”

To be continued.

#shingeki no kyojin x reader #snk x reader #eren x reader #attack on titan x reader #eren jaeger x reader #aot x reader #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #eren jaeger x you #eren jaeger x y/n #eren x you #snk #aot

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lilacyennefer · 4 years ago

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A Future with You Part II

A/N: Had to write some fluffy dad Angel after this week’s episode which broke my heart. That’s it.

WARNING: none, just dad!Angel being the cutest

Part 1

“Angel, are you sure it’s going to be fine?” You ask your boyfriend, worried.

It’s been months since Angel and Luke met, and ever since then the two of them were inseparable, but you were always worried to leave Luke with anyone.

But now, kindergarten was closed, and you had to go to work, but you couldn’t take Luke with you.

That’s when Angel offered he would take care of him, he said it would be dumb to pay for someone to do it, when he can do it for free.

You trusted Angel, but you were always nervous to leave Luke with anyone, and Angel wasn’t an exception.

“Yeah! He can meet with Pops, and the rest of the club.”

The next day you dropped off Luke at the clubhouse, Angel was already waiting for him to arrive.

“Angel!!” Luke particularly jumped out of the car to run to the biker, who was waiting for him with open arms, hugging, and lifting Luke up when the child reached him.

“We are going to have so much fun today! Just us, boys.” You could hear the excitement in Angel’s voice.

“Can I ride your bike?” Luke asks excitedly, a question he asks at least twice a day.

“Absolutely not.” You say before Angel could reply.

“When mami can’t see it.” Angel whispers loud enough for you to heart it, watching your reaction, and sending a wink to your way.

You shake your head “It’s not funny.”

“Mi dulce, it’s going to be fine! Worst case scenario, I’ll call you for some help.”

“Alright.” You sigh, handing Luke’s backpack to Angel “Everything that he needs is in the backpack.”

“I love you.” Angel hugs you closer with his left arm, while holding Luke in his right.

“I love you too.” You smile up at him, then look at Luke, playfully pinching his cheeks “and I love you, my precious little boy.”

“I love you too, mami!” He replies, giving you a kiss on your cheek.

“Well, since we are the early birds,” Angel starts after you said goodbye, and drove away. “Would you like to meet with my Pops?”

Angel could sense the nervousness in his own voice, wondering if the toddler could hear it too.

“Your Pops?” Luke asks curiously.

“My father.” Angel nods. “Then we can come back, and you can meet with my brothers.”

The toddler agreed to Angel’s plans, he excitedly walked to the Reyes Carnicería, holding the biker’s hand in his tiny one.

“Hey, Pops!” Angel greets the oldest Reyes loudly as he steps into the shop, making Felipe turn around to see his oldest son standing there, with a child that’s not his. Or at least he never saw the boy, so Felipe suspected it’s not Angel’s child.

“Where did you get that child?” Felipe asked his oldest son.

“This is Luke.” Angel answers as he picks up the little boy “My girlfriend’s son. I wanted you to meet with him.”

Felipe was surprised at both the fact that Angel had a girlfriend, sure, he knew that his sons were popular with girls, but Angel hadn't brought home a girl to him ever since he was a teenager. He was also surprised at the fact that he would date someone who has a child, and he’d take responsibility for them.

The oldest Reyes man walked out from behind his counter to introduce himself properly to the small boy.

“I’m Felipe.” He reached his hand out for him, the toddler immediately took his hand to gently shake it.

“I’m Luke!”

“I hope my son takes good care of you.” Felipe notes.

Even though Luke was only 4 years old, he could feel the air shift between the older men, making him wrap his arms protectively around Angel’s neck.

“He does!” He states confidently, protecting Angel without actually really knowing.

Angel felt extremely grateful for the little boy, who loved him unconditionally, looked up at him, and admired him, he looked at Angel like someone who’s worthy of love, of believing in, and he’s not someone who constantly fucks things up.

Yes, Angel Reyes was a good father, because Angel looked at himself as Luke’s father, although he never called him a dad. But he was proud of being a good father.

Felipe nods at the toddler’s statement, but Angel still hasn't said anything, as Felipe’s words stung him.

“I just wanted you to meet with Luke.” Angel says, ready to leave the shop, and forget his father’s reaction.

“You could bring your girl and the little boy to dinner once.” Felipe says as he walks back to behind his counter.

“Will do.” Angel nodded, then they said goodbye.

They walked on the streets of Santo Padre, hand in hand, since Luke loved to hold people’s hands, it made him feel secure, when Angel felt the little boy tug his arm, snapping him out of his thoughts.

“You know I love you, right?” Luke looked up at the biker, and Angel could feel his heart fill with love, and his insecure thoughts that his father’s words caused in him, to go away.

“I love you too, little one.” Angel replied, making the toddler smile.

“Good. Mommy loves you too, and me too.” He notes as they keep walking.

On their way back to the clubhouse, they picked up some breakfast for the MC, since they were probably already arriving at the clubhouse.

When they arrived, Angel could see Taza’s bike parked outside, suddenly he was nervous to have Luke by his side, not knowing how the club would react.

His nervousness increased when EZ stepped outside from his trailer, looking at his older brother surprised.

“Yo, boy-scout!” Angel yelled as he walked towards his little brother.

“Boy-scout.” Luke whispered, making Angel chuckle.

EZ walked closer, meeting with them halfway, grabbing the edge of his kutte when he stopped.

“Little bro, meet with Luke. He’s Y/N’s son.” Angel says nervously, making EZ raise his eyebrows from the surprise, since he didn’t know she had a son.

“Hi Luke.” EZ squats down with a smile on his face “I’m Ezekiel, but everyone calls me EZ.”

“You are Angel’s little brother?”

“I am.”

Luke looks up at Angel then says “I want a little brother too!”

The Reyes brothers looked at each other, trying to hide their snickers.

“Yeah, you have to talk to your mom about that.” Angel says.

He knew he was ready to expend their family, but you thought it was too early for that yet.

Only life had other plans.

“Brought some food.” Angel says while lifting the bag full of burritos.

EZ couldn’t reply as the loud roaring of the motorcycles filled the air, making Luke hide behind Angel’s legs just like he did with you when he met with Angel for the first time.

It’s time, Angel thought, his brothers are about to meet with his significant other’s son.

The MC members parked their bikes, Luke was watching them carefully from behind Angel.

“Are you sick Angel? Being up so early?” Bishop asks the oldest Reyes brother as he walks towards him.

“Nah.” Angel shrugs, shaking his head, unintentionally reaching his hand behind himself to Luke.

Angel’s movement didn’t go unnoticed by Bishop, making El Presidente look behind the younger biker, noticing the small boy standing behind him.

“Who’s that?” Bishop asks, nodding towards the little boy.

Unlike his father’s, Bishop’s voice didn’t have any malecy in it.

“Luke.” Angel calls for the toddler “It’s okay, let me introduce you to my brothers.”

“They’re all your brothers?” Luke asks Angel, his curiosity making him step forward from behind Angel.

“This,” Angel taps the front patch on his kutte “means brotherhood. Despite the fact that we are not related by blood, we are still brothers for life.”

Luke listened to his words carefully, but before he could say something to Angel, the man spoke again.

“This is Luke.” He introduced the little boy to the whole club, who were watching him. “Y/N’s son.”

The whole club greeted Luke with such warmness, it made both the little boy and the biker smile.

Angel led the toddler into the clubhouse, sitting down at one of the tables with Luke in his laps, while the others were fighting over the food he bought.

“Hey!” Angel yelled at his brothers “One of them is mine, shitheads!”

Angel didn’t realise he cursed until Luke’s tiny hand covered his mouth, making the biker look down at him surprised.

“No bad words.” Luke scolded Angel.

“I’m sorry.” The biker smiled down at the little boy.

“Angel.” Luke whispered “I need to go to the bathroom.”

“Alright, okay.” Angel said while he put down Luke “Can you go alone or—“

“I’m not a child, Angel.” Luke stops him with a hand gesture that reminded Angel so much of you.

Angel raised his eyebrows with a chuckle “Okay.”

Bishop joined Angel at the table, placing a burrito in front of the younger biker.

“It’s good to see you like this, you know.” Bishop says honestly “Peaceful and happy.”

“Thank you, Bish.”

Angel tried to not show it, but Bishop’s words meant a lot to him, especially after the lack of support and interest from Felipe’s side.

Luke happily ran back to Angel, holding his hands out to the biker, making him sniff his soap scented hands, something that Luke always does to signal that he washed his hands.

The toddler sits back on Angel’s lap as he starts eating his breakfast, while casually chatting with Bishop, Luke listening to their conversation.

“Can I get some?” Luke asks Angel, pointing at his food.

Angel nods, his mouth is full with food, as he holds the burrito to Luke. The little boy takes a big bite out of Angel’s breakfast, making the adults chuckle as he starts chewing it, nodding his head, silently saying that he likes the taste of it.

The day passed way too quickly for both Angel’s and Luke’s liking, none of them realised how late it was, only when you showed up, all done with work.

To be honest, you were even late, because you had to go to a doctor, confirming something that you already suspected.

Angel had some club business to do after he said goodbye to Luke, promising that he’ll get home by dinner, so he can read a bedtime story to the toddler.

“I love you, little one. Goodnight.” Angel kisses Luke’s forehead after he finishes reading for him.

“Goodnight, daddy. I love you.” Luke says sleepily, before he falls asleep.

Angel stood there, totally shocked from how Luke just called him.

Dad.

Such a simple word, 3 letters, that hold so much significance.

Angel stepped out of the toddler’s room, closing the door behind himself as he wiped the few tears rolling down his cheeks.

“What’s wrong?” You ask Angel worried, panic rushing over you as you hurry up to him.

“He called me dad.” Angel confesses, a tiny sob escaping his lips.

“Aw, babe.” You reach your hand to his cheeks to wipe his tears.

It’s time now, you think.

“You better get used to being called a dad.” You whisper to him.

“I know.” Angel nods “I’m a part of his life now.”

“You are.” You agree “But not just his.”

“Yours too.”

“Angel.” You sigh when you see he’s not getting what you’re trying to tell him “Angel, I’m pregnant.” You say nervously.

Angel’s eyes grow wild as he looks at you, then down to your belly.

“I went to check it after work, and the doctor confirmed it.” You bite down on your bottom lip as you’re waiting for his reaction.

“We’re going to have another baby.” Angel smiles.

“Yes, another baby.” You laugh.

“I love you so much.” Angel hugs you tightly, burying his face in your hair, inhaling your scent.

“I love you more, my angel.”

Taglist: @gemini0410 @rosieposie0624 @blessedboo @yourwonkywriter @chibsytelford @mayans-sauce @mrsmarvelous1995 @phoenixhalliwell @rocketqueen @witching-hour @starrynite7114 @bellisperennis0 (comment or send an ask if you want to be added)

#clayton cardenas #angel reyes #angel reyes x reader #posting this from my phone

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bakugohoex · 4 years ago

Note

If I may, could I request something with the reader being Erwin's little sibling, and Levi (who's also like an older sibling to them) has to tell them what happened in Shiganshina. Just some platonic angst...

“l…levi this is some sort of joke, it has to be”

pairing: platonic!levi ackerman x platonic!female reader

cw: platonic!, mentions of death, mentions of blood, angst and language

word count: 2600+

a/n: i could’ve made it more angsty i think idk i’m not really that good at angst tbh

summary: in which you find out your adopted older brother died in shiganshina by levi, who offers you support and comfort in your crying need

↞ back to attack on titan masterlist

The arrival of the scouts was supposed to be a joyous occasion, it was supposed to be of happiness of regaining Wall Maria. The laughter’s and cheers as Hanji spoke of the re-capture to the crowd as they passed by. Their numbers had dwindled, that was the first thing you noticed through the window in Trost. It looked like there was only a small number of individuals left and your brother had not been one of them.

Growing up in the underground you had met with Erwin’s father when you tried to steal his wallet. It hadn’t worked but he took pity of the small frail child, the way dirt covered your face, and your dull eyes gave him nothing. You remembered him grabbing your frail body and keeping you on his hip, you were only five or six, but he kept a hold of you. That’s when you left, left the horrors of murder and theft from underground and had a home. Erwin’s father had been sweet and more so his son who was only a couple years older had taken you in as his own sister.

It had been a tough life in the underground but even worse the horrors that occurred up above were much more than you had ever expected. The theories of what was beyond the walls and the death of Erwin’s father had struck to both of you. Whilst the boy you called home joined the Survey Corps you were left at home, to run around and live a normal life. You know what he had wanted, Erwin wanted you to be safe and not fight, he knew you had the ability, but the threat of your death was something he never wanted to consider.

The wind blew through your hair and you could smell the freshly baked bread through the wind. You tried to find Erwin among the crowd, wanting to congratulate him on the success but his lack of presence gave you an uneasy feeling. The repetition through your head that he was somewhere else, he’d gone into Wall Sheena, that he was telling others of the success. Your palm pressed firmly against the window as you looked out eagerly was mess with the tap across the door.

Instantly turning you let out a come in watching as Levi’s figure fell through the door. He was still in his survey corps gear and you smiled at him but the way he looked, the even more emotionless look he had made your stomach flip. “I can’t believe we re-gained maria.”

He looked down not meeting your eyes, he was hesitant to speak, to tell you what had occurred. But the look that you gave him, of hope and happiness how could he break it. How could he tell you your brother was dead.

“Y/n, sit down.” He exclaimed softly, he was trying to be nice, trying to be calmer but he knew once he told you, you’d isolate yourself and sob till your hearts content.

You raised an eyebrow in confusion, following his order as you sat at the chair around the round table. Levi sat across, dropping his gear onto the floor, it was unusual as he was much more careful, but you assumed it was out of excitement. “What’s up? I haven’t seen Erwin yet, where is h…”

“Y/n.” Levi interrupted; he finally met your gaze grabbing your fingers.

You remember the first day Erwin had told you about Levi, Levi the boy who was around the same age as you, he always had the same the glum look. The first time you encountered him was when he had joined the survey corps, you had come to see Erwin and met the boy, he gave the same look that he did too others but he growed to see you as a sister. He was always happy to see you bring little goodies you’d made, always waiting for the days you’d run around the city with him, taking him too new places you’d found out about. He loved you, the grew up without anybody and Kenny having been a deadbeat wasn’t somebody he’d call family. But with you and Erwin he felt at home and now he had to tell you the truth.

“Yes Levi.” You gleamed out; you were happy for humanity you’d regained something you’d never had expected to regain in your own years.

His grip between your fingers tightened, “Erwin, he…he went on the front line with a lot of good men, he risked it all for the chance to get to the basement and re-gain wall maria. Without him Y/n, I don’t think we’d have won this, he had told me how much he loved you, how glad he was to have a sister like you.” Tears had pricked your eyes you knew what was coming but didn’t want to admit it, “I’m sorry Y/n, he died an honourable death for the good of humanity.”

A loud sob escaped your lips, your lips trembled as your face seethed with the salty tears. “L…levi this is some sort of joke, it had to be.” You refused to admit he was dead, refused to grief you were resistant and angry. “He’s not dead, he’s a…alive.” You chocked on your words unable to feel anything. Your whole world had broken, everything you ever had gone, it had felt all like a dream. It was all over now with the true reality of being alone setting in.

You stood up anger filling you through the tears, “he’s alive.” Trying to repeat the sentence into existence was unachievable. You remember your last words to him you better not come back with another arm missing and how he chuckled before passing you a letter in case of something bad happened. You remember discarding the letter in your drawers, he would always come back. He would come back to his sister, he’d be alive and happy, even take you to wall maria himself.

The mirror on the side of the room in an instant got kicked by you leg, the way it fell and shattered under your foot. Sobs engulphed the room, you collapsed to the ground, the shards across your knees. He’s be here, he promised he’d come back, he promised. Levi’s body shifted towards you the three simple words coming from his mouth, “Y/n, I’m sorry.”

His arms around your body as he knelt beside you, moving the shards away as your body fell onto his own. Your eyes blurred with tears and a sadness washed over you, you crumbled into Levi’s rougher body against your weak form. He had seen you fight men ten times the size of you but here you were trembling in his arms. You had broken, you had lost your family and you couldn’t even say a proper goodbye to him. He had died without you there, you hadn’t seen what happened, you didn’t know if there had bene hope for him. You had lost him.

Levi stayed beside you for a while, a tight grip around your body. Hanji had tried to come in but at the sight of you had instructed herself to remove the shards away from your teary-eyed self. She knew you’d talk to her when you could and that being in Levi’s arms, you’d be safe for the time being and not make any rash decisions.

“Y/n…” Levi spoke just as Hanji left to get you some new clothes having blood from where your body had been scathed by the shards.

You didn’t speak but he was aware that you could hear him, “Erwin would want you to fight in his name, to fight for hum…”

“Levi shut up, fuck humanity, he died saving our worthless lives. You think and talk so much about humanity but what has humanity done to us, fucking nothing. He didn’t need to die…he could’ve lived and been here with me, we could’ve been a family. He was supposed to see me have my own family and he was supposed to be there for me. He shouldn’t have died, you said he died an honourable death. He didn’t, he…he died without saying goodbye.” The sobs through each word and tears that flooded your face made Levi realise the true extent of how you were feeling.

Erwin had been your family, closer than family even. He had looked after you when his father had been killed. Protected you even stopped you from joining the Scouts yourself but here you were, the truth evident. You knew your words were lies, Erwin would gladly have rested his life for humanity, but he did it without saying goodbye to you. He did it without letting you have your final moments with him, you were cynical and all you wanted was to be left alone. “Leave Levi.”

“Y/n I…” Interrupting Levi again you stood up at his kneeling body.

“Leave Levi, I wont say it again.” You had the same superiority as your brother had, the same clear attitude and even through the dull bland face you wore. He knew you needed space and time, you watched him leave before letting more sobs come from your eyes.

Moving to the drawers, the letter had been pushed into the drawers filled with papers. You didn’t want to read it, but it was his last letter in this world. It was his last words and you wanted to read it, feel what he had wanted you to feel. Sitting on the bed, you broke the red seal and opened the letter seeing his handwriting through the paper you took a sharp breath as you started to read it.

Dear Y/n,

I assume you’re reading this because I have passed, I don’t know what will come of you afterwards, but I hope you remain the same girl I met all those years ago. I remember my father having telling me about the underground and seeing your ashy face you had always been a lot to take in. But I’m glad, I’m glad you were brought into my family, that you became my little sister who could rely on me.

One of the days in the first week of you staying with us, my father had told me to take you to get some food. You had been unaware of how easy it was to get food and how you didn’t have to ration it out amongst others. You had asked so many questions about the big walls that you had thoughts were as high as castles that you’d been told about in the storybooks my father had been showing you. You were always like that, asking too many questions and learning quickly afterwards, your first day at school you had told me afterwards how you had been ahead of your class. Your face had bene filled with joy and happiness. I’m saying all of this to make you remember how far you’ve come. How you’re a fighter who has a long future ahead, you shouldn’t stay in the city, you should find your own path where you can do everything you have wanted to do since we were younger.

I have three things to tell you, and I hope you keep to these three things. Don’t grieve over me, you were always strong, stronger then most the people in the survey corps so go out there and be happy, go out there and accomplish everything you’ve wanted to do. Go fight for humanity, and I know how you feel about that, I remember your words from last night, how I shouldn’t risk it all for humanity. But I have to save us, I have to get us out of the walls, we’re caged animals who need something more. I hope you begin to realise how important it is to fight for humanity and risk it to survive the titans and past the walls.

Secondly, don’t cry over a dead man. We both knew this day would come and I know how much you’d been putting off even talking to me about this all. But I want you to know that whatever happens you shouldn’t cry. You have ignored me to many times in the years I’ve known you and for once I want you to listen to me because you’re too strong and a fighter to cry over me. I don’t want you to spend weeks alone crying I want you to remember me and take me with you but not feel guilty that you weren’t there to save me. I know what’s going to happen and I want you as my little sister to feel that what I did was honourable because at the heart of me saving humanity was me saving you.

Lastly, I love you, you were always my family and always will be. I want you to move on, have your own family or even just remain with Levi as your family. I just need you to not isolate yourself and think that because I’m gone there’s nothing else for you in this world. Because there is Y/n, you’re important to so many people and I want you to know that I will always call you my home.

Your brother,

E. Smith

Reading out the last line, you felt your tears stop falling a deep sunken breath erupt as you finally felt a lot calmer. He wanted you to be happy, to not be isolated and to not cry and you’d done everything he’d wished again. Your brain was going wild with your thoughts, you knew what you wanted to do. What you had to do and how you needed to see Levi and Hanji as soon as you could.

You ran out of the room passing those who had fought alongside Erwin as you ignored them before you spotted Levi. “Y/n.”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have shouted at you.”

Levi’s face was still dull, but he put his hand to your shoulder making you feel at home. “It’s understandable…you read the letter then.” Levi remembered Erwin having mentioned a letter and here it was still grasped onto by your nimble fingers.

“I did and that’s how I know what I need to do, Erwin he died saving humanity, and I understand that, but I have nothing now except you, I…I want to join the scouts, I did the same cadet training but never joined a faction due to Erwin, I need to do this, in his name, let me…let me join.” You hadn’t met his gaze knowing tears would fall if you did. It was a hefty ask but you had had the training, you remembered it all and you wanted to fight in Erwin’s honour.

Levi signed having expected something like this from you, “Y/n…”

“If that’s truly what you believe is what Erwin would want you to do then you can join.” The voice came from behind you, Hanji stood there as both of you faced her. As the new commander of the scouts she knew Erwin might be angry at this occurring, but you were strong and had the background.

“I want to do this, Erwin spoke so highly of humanity and me, I understand now that there’s more than this world and I want to help, like you said Levi i’m doing this in his name.” It was true you had gone against Erwin’s words many years ago but reading the letter it was the right thing to do you had nobody and joining would give you a cause for being alive. For sticking with Levi, you might have lost Erwin, but you certainly weren’t loosing Levi as well. You’d protect both of you until the very end just as Erwin did, you’d risk your life for the sake of the human race.

i’d really appreciate if you guys could leave a like, reblog or comment, thanks x

if you guys want to be a part of a tag list, just reply to any post and i’ll add you xx

@samusimp @alainarose13 @crispychannie @underratedmage @jennammaee @cathy8taffy @sugacious @moonlightaangel @kat-sukis-hoe @effmigentlywithachainsaw @swankiifiied @maat-the-prescriptive @missmultifangirl @tvwhoresblog @kuroos-world @chrrylevi @katsuhera @answer-the-sirens @animexholic @wapbenders @the-shota-king-masayuki @bakugousmrs

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hwangsies · 4 years ago

Text

SILVER SOLUTION

(part 2 of galvanising green, read part 1 first!)

pairing: slytherin!hyunjin x slytherin!reader

summary: you dont know where you stand with hyunjin after the greenhouse incident, getting grouped together in potions class might give the both of you some clarity.

warnings: swearing, smut as in: heavy petting, some bathtub fun, praise kink i guess, pretty tame and very fluffy

3.6 k words,

enjoy <3

---

“class, listen up” your potions professor claps his hands together “today we’re making amortentia upon a special request from ms weasley” he smiles at victoire, who’s standing next to you behind labtable.

Potions is your only class you have together this year so you’re always exited for it, especially cause she excels in almost every class.

“mom told me she only realised that she liked dad through making this in class” she whispers to you as the professor keeps telling the class about the ingredients.

“mhh” you nod, pretending to be interested, but you simply cant be. Not when hyunjin is staring holes into the back of your head.

You turn around slightly just to see him at the table diagonally behind you, propped up with elbows on the table and locking eyes with you.

He clears his throat and straightens up to look over at his partner, james , when you catch him.

You sigh as the professor tells the class to begin, victoire already starting to chop up some rose thorns.

“hey, can you grab the pearldust and measure it?” she rips you out of your thoughts about if you were to harsh to the blonde boy that’s been on your mind for the past week.

“uhh- yea” you mumble, grabbing the little sliver bag that’s labelled as ‘pearl dust’.

“how much of this?” you ask before victoire points at the measurements in the book that’s laying infront of her on the table.

After about 20 minutes of mixing the ingredients you suddenly hear a loud clinging of someone dropping a glass, followed by yelling.

You turn around to see hyunjin and james at each others throats, fellow classmates quickly jumping in to get them off of each other.

“hey!” your professor comes running “this kind of behaviour is not acceptable in my classroom! I forbid it!” he says sternly.

Hyunjin and james breathing heavily as they nod apologetically.

The professor looks around before his eyes land on victoire “ms weasly would you be so kind to switch places with mr hwang?” he asks but you know its more of an order than a request.

“uh-“ your best friend looks over at you before a small grin tugs at her lips “yea of course” she chirps.

Your eyes widen as she leaves you alone, turning back around to your concoction to mix the fluid before hyunjin appears in your peripheral.

“hey” he says in a small voice, you just nod, eyes trained on the liquid that’s slowly gaining a pearly sheen.

“you’re still not gonna talk to me?” he asks, watching the silver liquid in the big pot as well.

“I said everything I had to say” you answer blankly.

“well I didn’t” he rebuttals, at which your eyes jump up diagonally to meet his.

“what did you and james fight about?” you ask, ignoring his statement before.

“that’s private” he says almost immediately after you stop speaking, at which you huff.

“that’s great, hwang. i love talking to you when you get defensive” you say sarcastically, continuously stirring the potion.

He exhales irritatedly “then why do you always bring up stuff that you know I don’t want to talk about?”

“because, shocker hyunjin the world doesn’t revolve around you” you turn to him, gesturing with the hand that isn’t stirring the liquid “also jesus christ how much aftershave did you put on?” you scrunch up your nose.

He furrows his brows at you before scoffing “you’re the one to talk, your perfume is stinking up this place” he shakes his head as he looks away from you.

“excuse me?” you turn to him.

“yea- as soon as I got here all I could freaking sme-“ he stops himself and his expression softens as he looks from the liquid in pot back to your face.

“what?” you ask, still infuriated as you look over to see the silver spiralling steam coming out of the pot, signalling that the amortentia is working.

“wow!” your professor comes over and applauds “that’s looking really good kids!”

You feel the blood rush to your head when you lock eyes with hyunjin again.

“I don’t feel too good professor I need to go to the bathroom” you quickly excuse yourself before storming out of the classroom, not waiting for an answer.

Hyunjin is quick to tell him that he’ll go check on you before running after you.

“y/n” he yells down the hall “can you stop running away from me? its getting old” he pants as he catches up with you.

“I never told you to follow me” you snap back, not stopping “leave me alone”

“no” he grabs your wrist to stop you, looking into your eyes when he succeeds “I like you, a lot”

“and I know that you like me back” his eyes are soft when he looks into yours.

“so for as long as you smell my aftershave and I smell your perfume in the amortentia I will run after you” you swallow when he closes in on your personal space.

“it doesn’t matter what I smell because I don’t know if i can trust you” you say quietly.

“I understand, but what can I do to change that?” he asks seriously, you shrug your shoulders.

Hyunjin gnaws at his lower lip, sliding his hand down your wrist to enclose your smaller hand in his.

“how about I can be your boyfriend for like 2 weeks, as a test run” you chuckle and shake your head.

“no-no listen” he pleads.

“yea- okay” you signal him to keep going.

“and if you don’t want me after that we’ll just stop, no pressure no anything, we don’t even have to tell people” he proposes.

“you don’t want to tell people because you don’t want other girls to know?” you ask teasingly.

“I- no-“ he sighs when he sees your grin.

At the same moment the door to the classroom open and the whole class comes out for their lunch break.

Hyunjin looks at you before looking back at them.

“what?” you ask, but he doesn’t answer you.

“hey!” he shouts at the fellow students including james and victoire “I like her!” he points at you.

“oh my god” you whisper, burying your face in your hand embarrassedly.

“a lot!!” he continues before looking down at you “she’s smart and funny and not to mention incredibly beautiful”

“get a room” someone yells before the students laugh and move past the two of you.

“I don’t care about other girls” he turns to you again “please?”

You inhale deeply before nodding “okay”

His pretty lips form into a big smile as his hands find your waist over your cloak.

“so does that mean I’m your boyfriend now?” he pulls you closer to his body, grinning from ear to ear, his eyes turning into crescents.

“14 days test trial boyfriend, sure” you grin back as he slowly leans down.

“but” you say, making him stop his actions “you’ll need to earn the first kiss as my boyfriend” you softly tap your index finger against his lips.

He groans playfully and buries his face into your neck “okay” he mumbles “whatever you want” he presses a kiss to your cheek as you grin victoriously.

"are you ever going to tell me why you and james fought in class two days ago?"

"It's not that serious" hyunjin shakes his head, not looking up from the notes on his lap.

"okay" you hum, pushing you hair back when a breeze of wind rushes through hagrids pumpkin field.

You observe the tall blond boy sitting on one of the huge pumpkins next to the one you're sitting on.

"did it possibly have to do with the big griffyndor vs slytherin quidditch match coming up?" you absently tap your feather against the tough skin of the pumpkin.

He sighs, looking up at you "yea"

"Scouts are coming and seekers aren't needed as much as other players, you know, since there's only one in each team" he runs a hand through his hair.

"so we know only one of us could possibly get scouted" you lock eyes.

"you dont know that" you try cheering him up "what if they think the both of you are amazing?"

Hyunjin chuckles "that's sweet of you but even if they did, they'd probably pick james because of his name"

You frown.

"Not that he isnt talented or anything but, you know" he shrugs.

"no, baby dont think like that. I've seen you play, you're amazing, anyone with eyes sees that" hyunjins eyes crinkle up as his pretty lips stretch into a smile.

He pushes himself off of his pumpkin to lean against yours.

"you just called me baby for the first time" he tilts up his chin, locking eyes with you.

"thats the only thing you took from my emotional speech just now?" you snicker, leaning down to boop his nose with yours.

"wanna kiss you so bad right now" hyunjin mumbles, biting his lower lip.

"hmm" you hum "not yet"

"Hey kids, listen i'm all for young love but please not on my pumpkins" hagrid shouts from his window.

"shit" hyunjin laughs.

"sorry hagrid"

"you came" hyunjin beams at you, gracefully landing on his feet next to you on one of the high tribunes.

"you asked me to" you tilt your head, as he steps closer.

"yea but it's only a practice game so-"

"i'm still gonna support my boyfriend" you grin, getting on your toes a little to kiss his cheek.

He blushes a little, his cheeks matching the faint redness of his nose, which you attribute to the cold weather; you swear it's the cutest thing he's ever done.

"are you blushing" tease him, cradling his cheeks in your hands.

"am not" he huffs sarcastically at which you giggle and press another kiss to his cheek.

"ay hwang! we dont have all day" a male voice calls for your boyfriend.

He looks back briefly to nod at his teammate .

"come with me after practice? i wanna show you something" he requests.

"yea, okay" you smile.

"okay, have fun watchig, babe" he drops a kiss to your cheek before turning his back to you.

"wait" you hold his arm "you forgot something"

"what?" hyunjin frowns.

"this" you place your hands on his cheeks once more and pull him flush to yourself, slotting your lips against his.

You hear his broom hitting the ground, a second later his hands encase your waist, pulling you closer.

The faint sound of hyunjins teammates hollering is the last thing you hear before his tongue prods at the seam of your lips.

The blood rushing to your ears keeps you from hearing anything but your tongues chasing each other.

You only seperate from each other when a high pitched whistle fills the air.

"fuck" he breathes, grinning before dropping a last kiss to your lips.

"continue this later?" youbite your lip as he picks up his broom.

"definetely" he winks before pushing himself off the ground to meet his teammates hovering in the middle of the field.

"that was so hot" you jump at victoires voice.

"what the fuck" you hold your chest as you turn around to see your bestfriend take a seat on the tribunes.

"how much did you see?" you adjust your green-white scarf as you sit down next to her.

"enough babe, that was a sexy girl move" she fiddles at you scarf as well.

You laugh "yea?"

"hell yea, look" she points up at hyunjin, where him and his teammates are still talking, one of them pushing hyunjins shoulder playfully.

"they are totally jealous of him" she squeals "and i'm totally jealous of you" she squints her green eyes teasingly.

“i can’t believe they let you use the prefects bathroom” you awe as you look around the spacious room with high walls and windows, where he had taken you after practice.

"one of the perks when you're the star of the slytherin quidditch team" hyunjin grins, dropping his slytherin coat to the ground.

He walks over to the gigantic bathtub and turns on the water, glancing over at you.

"luke warm or hot?" his hand rests on the tab.

"huh?" your head snaps over at him.

He chuckles "the bathwater"

"oh, uh hot" you nod.

"fitting" hyunjin grins, mumbling.

"Hm?" you lock eyes as you take off your coat and mimick hyunjin in dropping it to the ground.

"nothing" he giggles, walking over to you and wrapping his arms around your waist.

"take it off" he whispers against your lips, his fingers tugging at your shirt.

You comply and get rid of your clothes.

"Ooh" you sound as you step inside the big tub thats filled to the brim with bubbles.

"good?" hyunjin asks as he takes your hand to help you inside, he himself already sat down.

"great" you close your eyes as his arms envelope you from behind, leaning back against his chest.

“so what’d you think of seeing me play?” he whispers after a few minutes of comfortable silence.

“fishing for compliments are we?” you joke.

“ha ha” he murmurs against your neck, making goosebumps spread over your legs which doesn’t go unnoticed by him when his hand runs up your thigh.

“feels nice?” hyunjin runs his nose against the shell of your ear.

“hmh” you nod, closing your eyes when you feel his lips on his neck, tongue darting out to taste your skin.

“this?” he whispers, one of his large hands palming your breast, pinching your nipple as the other hand softly travels over your mound.

You open your eyes “hyunjin”

“hm?” he continues to kiss at your neck.

“wait a second, please” you say, moving from your spot from between his legs.

“whats going on?” hyunjin asks concernedly, reaching for your arm, urging you to stradde him.

“I just feel like I have to tell you this” you say, playing with his hair at the back of his head.

“what are you so nervous about baby” he huffs, smiling when you shake your head.

“I- I don’t know” you sigh, his hands soothing up your back.

“I” you exhale shakily “I’m a virgin”

“huh?” he blinks, his eyes threatening to pop out of his skull.

“I mean I- I didn’t know” he runs his hands down your arms to take your hands in his “but I really don’t care if that’s what you were scared of”

“well, kind of” you grow a little smaller out of embarrassment.

“hey” he chuckles, pulling you a little higher on his lap “you didn’t actually think I’d laugh at you or something, did you?” he gets more serious.

“I don’t know, you always called me ‘miss goody shoes’” you mumble, pushing some hair behind his ear.

“baby I was joking” he cups your face “you know just like little boys who pull the little girls pigtails because that’s the only way they know how to get their attention”

You scoff “you never actually pulled on my hair though”

“yea, cause I don’t know if you’re into that yet” he quips, your jaw going slack.

“you little sh-“ you slap his shoulder, the water sloshing and some bubbles flying into the air as hyunjins laughter fills the room.

“I’m kidding” he laughs, catching your hand in his.

“I’m kidding” he whispers again when leaning in to press his lips to yours.

“you are my good girl though” he whispers against your lips, your heart stuttering at his words and your core clenching.

He bites his lip as if he knows what effect he has on you, you part your lips to say something but instead of words coming out, a little whimper tumbles from your lips.

“cute” he giggles before slotting his lips against yours, a groan tearing from his throat when you suck at his lower lip.

His arms circling your waist to pull your chest flush against his warm one, a groan tears from his throat when you suck on his lower lip.

You loop your arms around his neck and angle your head to deepen the kiss, gasping a little when you feel his erection poke against you pubic bone.

“sorry” he smiles coyly, reaching down to adjust himself.

“don’t worry I don’t want to wait forever, you know i-“ you explain.

“hey, you don’t have to explain yourself to me, we’ll do whatever you want, I lo-“ he cuts himself off.

“you?” you repeat after him questioningly.

“I” he laughs “shit, uhm” his fingers draw circles on the skin of your hips.

"I've had a crush on you for like half a year now" he chuckles.

"huh?" you lock eyes.

"yea" he grins "remember when that one ravenclaw asshole called you a muggleblood and you let him have it six ways from sunday?" you giggle as you remember the incident.

"I got detention for that" you smile at him.

"yea but only because you turned his nose into a rhinos horn" he laughs with you.

“anyways, that’s when I was like… damn she’s cool as hell” he recalls, tucking a wet strand of your hair behind your hear.

“why did you never talk to me?” you ask, running your finger over his toned chest.

“I wanted to but you always seemed to avoid me and I didn’t want to annoy you” hyunjin closes his eyes, feigning regret.

“I had a crush on you so I was scared to be around you” you confess “but to be fair every girl in this grade has a crush on you” you roll your eyes playfully.

“well you’re the one in this bathtub with me right now” he grins, leaning forward to place a kiss on your collarbone.

You hum “yea I am”, when hyunjin licks at the base of your throat before gently sucking at the soft skin.

“wanna turn around again?” he cocks up one of his eyebrows.

“why?” you grin “so you can feel me up better?”

“exactly” he kisses your lips before you comply to his wish.

You lie your head back against his shoulder as he presses kisses to your temple, lifting one of your hands to caress the side of his face.

“how are these bubbles not dissolving?” you think out loud.

“magic” hyunjin whispers, kissing the skin under your ear.

You giggle when his hands move down your sides.

“can I touch you?” he asks quietly, kissing the slope of your neck.

“please” you mewl.

“you’re so perfect baby” hyunjin says, palming both of your breasts before moving one hand in between your legs, which you instinctively spread for him.

You can feel an amused puff of air against your neck “see? you are my good little girl”

Your stomach tightens in arousal when he brushes two fingers through your folds.

“aren’t you?” he mumbles against your skin after sucking a bruise onto your neck.

“yes” you moan when he draws circles over your clit.

“hyunjin” you whimper, the warmth in your core spreading into your limbs.

“I’ll make you feel good, baby” he rasps, his fingers picking up the pace.

You grab onto his bicep as you throw your head back, pleasure booming behind your lid as hyunjin suckles on your earlobe.

“fuck” you cry out.

“that’s it baby” he urges you on, rubbing at your sanity as you try not to fall into him completely.

“I’m close” you mutter, bucking your hips up to meet the friction of his fingers.

“come for me, babygirl” he whispers “I got you baby”

The knot in your stomach snaps and spikes of pleasure flood through your system as high pitched moans tear from your throat.

Hyunjin slows down his fingers when your legs start trembling and you gasp for air.

“good fucking girl” he chuckles, gently rubbing your folds before you hold his hand still, the overstimulation setting in.

“fuck” you groan before he tilts your head up to catch your lips with his.

Humming into the kiss before you break it, hyunjin bites his lip as he grins down at you.

You can feel the blood rushing through your face and quickly bury it in the crook of his neck; his throat vibrating with laughter.

“don’t go shy on me now, pretty girl” he mumbles, fingers dancing over your stomach.

“sorry” you giggle before looking up to kiss him again.

“don’t be sorry, you’re perfect” he kisses you back.

After getting out of the tub first and wrapping a towel around his hips, hyunjin helps you get out and wraps a towel around you and rubbing you dry vigorously.

“baby ow” you laugh and take the towel from him.

“sorry” he giggles, cradling your cheeks in his hands and pressing a wet smooch to your lips.

“eww” you laugh but he holds your face still in his hands “don’t ew your boyfriend”

You smile “apropos boyfriend”

“yea?” he releases your face, pushing some hair out of his face.

“I think I want to upgrade you from test trial boyfriend to real boyfriend” you say sheepishly, looking down.

“only if you’re up for it though, I don’t want you to leave me hanging-“

“yes” he interrupts you “I am up for it, like… super up for it” he steps even closer.

“really?” you ask as you wrap the large towel around your torso.

“yes!” he chuckles, kissing your cheek before moving to the other one before attacking your nose.

“okay! okay” you squeal.

“does that mean you’ll come to the game as my girlfriend and cheer me on and stuff?” he grins, wiggling his brows cutely.

“yes, yes I will” you promise before locking lips again.

a/n: hi there! thank u for being so patient with me! i was rly crammed up with life lol. anyways i feel like this was kinda lack luster, but i intend on writing a thrid part as the finale of a trilogy i guess lol.

so thank you sm for reading if you’ve made it this far, lots of love to you <3

(also unedited so pls dont come for me im tireddd lol)

#this was so bad iowdepfh #but i dont wanna keep yall waiting for so long ah im sorry #im a faliure lolz #stray kids #skz #stray kids smut #skz smut #skz hogwarts!au #hyunjin smut #hwang hyunjin #slytherin!hyunjin #hyunjin hogwarts!au #stray kids hogwarts!au #hyunjin fluff #silver solution

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bitterepiphany · 4 years ago

Text

the bodyguard situation

archive of our own

@zuzusexytiems enjoy ;))

ooh also partly inspired by @amy-r-k's aa first kiss hc <3<3

warning: contains spoilers for 139

If somebody had told her during her days in the Southern Training Corps that Armin Arlert would become the 15th Commander of the Survey Corps, Annie would have scoffed in their face. There would be no way in hell that a boy that soft and weak, a boy that struggled to even complete the Training Corps program, would become the leader of by far the most dangerous branch of military here on this island.

But times had changed. Times had changed so drastically, so mind-bendingly, that Annie almost longed for those days, those simple days when the only troubles worrying her mind was the location of the Founder, and the guilt over all the destruction they had wrought on the people within the walls. Funny, how something so enormous could become so simple in hindsight.

Something hadn’t changed, though, in Annie’s world. It surprised her sometimes, how much she had come to rely on that soft and weak boy from training, how just the sound of his voice could ground her, reminding her of all the years she spent in that crystal with only his and Hitch’s words to keep her sane.

Things had happened slowly, softly. There was so much aftermath to deal with, so much death, destruction, and fear to manage, that for at least the first year after Eren’s death, they barely had time for one another. Fragile, temporary stalemates disguised as peace were made between surviving humanity and those of Paradis, and work began to salvage and rebuild what was flattened.

Armin had been forced to take up his role as the new Commander, and for a period of time, stood at a similar rank to Historia as the only surviving military leader after the rest had been turned into titans and subsequently killed. While Historia stayed on Paradis, Armin and their surviving group - Annie, Reiner, Connie, Jean, and Pieck - who were dubbed, ‘The Heroes of Paradis’, stayed in Marley, negotiating with their surviving leaders and helping the cleanup and rebuild effort. Levi remained in Marley to recover from his injuries with their more advanced technology, and Mikasa chose not to go with them, opting to instead retire from military work to instead mourn her loss in peace.

But after things had settled (or as settled as they could be after eighty percent of the world was crushed), the unresolved tension between them couldn’t be ignored through their various distractions anymore. From lingering looks, hands brushing each other for a little longer than it to be accidental, and making constant, see-through excuses - if the looks Pieck and Jean gave were any indication - to spend time with each other, it became almost unbearable for Annie. She began to think about his confession on the boat on a daily basis, thinking it over. What if he didn’t feel that way anymore? What if he realised that she was a monster, and that she didn’t deserve someone as good as he was? What if - and this thought made Annie feel physically sick - he found another girl, and she was everything Annie couldn’t be?

It was only after Pieck had cornered her after she was caught staring openly at him for the umpteenth time that she sucked it up and decided she would confront these feelings. That was, until an incident on Paradis where a group of rogue Jeagerists decided that the current Commander of the Survey Corps needed to be replaced.

Now, it was known to those that knew him through training and the subsequent years that Armin didn’t excel physically. Though he had improved and filled out into himself in the years since he inherited the Colossal Titan, he would never reach the prowess of his other male comrades like Reiner, Jean, Connie, or Eren.

Though this information was never made ‘public’, it must have gotten out somewhere, and during an orientation for some new Scouts that Armin was overseeing, a group of young men broke away from the group and rushed him. Luckily, Armin was quick to react and defended himself until they almost overwhelmed him, but at that point, Jean and Connie reacted and dragged the attackers off him. Annie herself wasn’t with the group when it happened, instead away with Reiner discussing Marley things with Historia, but when she was notified of it, she was furious. Needless to say, the decision to give Armin a constant guard was non-negotiable, and it became clear to everyone else who wasn’t budging on being the one for the job.

Armin tried to protest the decision, saying he didn’t need a ‘babysitter’, but one look from Annie shut him up pretty quickly. He did confide to her later that he was grateful she was doing it, instead of some upstart young Scout, or even one of the boys in their group, claiming that they could become a bit suffocating in their insistence that he couldn’t defend himself at all.

The words left unsaid between them seemed to take a backseat as they now spent basically all their time together. Armin let his guard down around her, and she had to admit to herself that she couldn’t imagine her life without him at this point. There were some realisations within herself that she was scared to look at though. Once, Armin questioned whether she wanted to leave the group to go live with her father, since that seemed to always be her goal ever since she left for Paradis Island all those years ago.

Annie had spent time with her father early on in the months following the Rumbling, but had found herself drawn to working with Armin and the others, though was reluctant to leave her father initially. He assured her it was okay though, and encouraged her to get out and do something she enjoyed with her life. She still visited him regularly in Marley when she could.

They never openly acknowledged it, but the intimacy between Armin and Annie slowly began to increase. Armin had a couch in his study, and sometimes they would sit there together, Armin reading some book too boring for her to be interested in, and Annie would just relax. One afternoon, the sun was falling just right over her body, and she allowed herself to close her eyes. The next thing she knew, she had awoken to her cheek pressed into the fabric of Armin’s shoulder, one of his arms resting loosely around her shoulders. He was still reading in the fading dusk light, and when she shifted, he looked at her, a small smile on his lips.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” he whispered, smirking slightly. “Poor form of you, sleeping on the job, huh?”

He was teasing her. Annie pushed herself upright, fighting a yawn, failing to do so, all while shooting him an icy glare.

Armin just laughed.

Fuck.

Annie couldn’t maintain her icy demeanour at that. That damned laugh of his always broke all of her walls. She just huffed and turned her head, heat creeping up her neck. Armin’s laugh faded, and Annie glanced over at him. She was surprised to see him glancing at her sheepishly too.

“You know,” he mumbled, blushing, a hand coming to rub the back of his neck, “Uh, I don’t mind if you, you know, do that…”

Annie’s breath caught. Armin blushed harder, eyes averting.

“Uhm,” he continued, still resolutely not looking at her, “Hitch used to always say that you looked scary when you slept? But… you… don’t really, I think you look kinda cute actually and- oh?”

Annie had scooted closer to him during his ramblings, and, without a word, rested her head back onto his shoulder.

“You talk too much,” she grumbled, curling up beside him.

Armin huffed out a laugh, his arm returning to its spot around her shoulders.

They stayed like that until Annie fell asleep again, and the both of them had to be shaken awake by an amused looking Pieck, who smirked at Annie mischievously when the latter discovered Armin had wrapped her up in his arms, his cheek pressed up against her hair.

***

Some invisible barrier had broken between the two of them since that afternoon. Annie found herself sleeping on Armin in various different places whenever they sat together for extended periods of time, and he became more touchy, often grabbing onto her hands to lead her places and show her things, and being quite cuddly when she fell asleep on him, leading Annie to wake up pressed tightly against him, trapped by his arm.

They found themselves in a unique situation, and neither Annie nor Armin were oblivious to the rumours and giggles that followed the two of them around at Scout Headquarters. Their close friends wisely chose not to mention their growing intimacy, but that didn’t save them from the badly disguised stares and whispered speculation that erupted from Junior Scouts as the pair did their daily business around the grounds.

It didn’t help that Armin and Annie did absolutely everything together after the attack. The two didn’t say anything to each other, the only indication Annie got that Armin noticed it at all was his telltale habit of rubbing the back on his neck and hair when he got flustered or nervous when the whispers got a little too loud for comfort.

Things reached a peak one night after a long meeting negotiating new regiment leaders and discussing the rebel Jeagerists that seemed to be grouping up together again.

It was raining hard after a sudden downpour, and Armin and Annie were faced with the newly treacherous task of making their way across the grounds to their adjacent rooms in the Commander’s and Captain’s dorms.

They stood under an awning, peering through the darkness, trying to route a path that would result in the least amount of drenching. It didn’t seem possible.

“Well,” Annie said, “I suppose we can just have a shower after…”

“I guess… let’s go!”

Annie cried out in surprise as Armin grabbed her hand and yanked her along with him, and then they were off, running through the sheets of water and getting thoroughly soaked to the bone. Annie let herself go, and began to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all, and soon Armin joined her, their laughs getting lost in the roar of the rain.

Just as they reached their barracks, Annie’s foot landed in a particularly slippery patch of mud and she toppled over, gasping. She squeaked in shock as a pair of arms wrapped around her and saved her from a faceful of mud. Armin pulled her into him, and her palms flew up to grip his shirt at his chest. They stood there for a second, staring at each other, far closer than they had ever been before, chests heaving with exertion.

Armin’s arms tightened around her slightly.

“Are… are you okay?” he breathed.

Annie could feel his heart racing beneath her hands, and she suddenly became acutely aware of how fast her heart was going too. She nodded, breathless.

Armin didn’t seem to want to let her go. Annie found that she didn’t want him to either.

All of their interactions since his damned confession on the boat ran through her head. Annie took a breath. She had made up her mind. Enough of this dancing around one another. Just as the words building up in her head for months passed her lips, Armin spoke.

“Annie,” he said, eyes intensely focused on hers. “I think I’m in love with you.”

Her chest caught.

“I…”

Feeling as though her entire life had led up to this moment, Annie abandoned any response she might have had on her tongue, gripped his shirt harder, rose on her tiptoes, and kissed him.

She could feel the tension leave Armin’s shoulders, and he almost slumped into her, leaning down so she could stand flat-footed, kissing her back, hands sliding up her body to cradle her face. They broke apart, lost in their own little world, eyes locked.

“Wanna get married?”

Annie let loose an elated giggle, sure that this high she was on was never going to let her down. It was all too incredible to even describe.

“Yeah.”

***

Rumours about the Commander and his female companion had been the hot topic of Scout members for months. A set of questions regarding them circulated.

“Who’s that scary-looking lady who’s always with the Commander?”

“Is she some kind of new captain?”

“I heard she was his bodyguard!”

“No surely not, she’s too small for that, maybe she’s his assistant.”

Another smaller, more knowledgeable section of older Scouts found the pairing to be unbearable.

“She’s the Female Titan!”

“Why haven’t we killed her yet? You know how many Scouts she killed, right?”

“Why on earth does he seem to be friendly with her?”

“They look like some sort of couple! No way am I serving under someone fucking a traitor!”

The Commander and his female companion were very aware of the whispers, but they didn’t care. Let them think what they wanted, they thought.

One afternoon, an amused-looking Reiner was lounging about, supervising some of the younger recruits in their training. He heard some of their whispers, and laughed aloud.

“You guys don’t know?” he scoffed, rolling his eyes, “She’s no bodyguard. That’s his wife .”

Rumour has it the squeals of shock could be heard from across the grounds.

#aruani #armin arlert #annie leonhardt #attack on titan #chapter 139 spoilers

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leviackermanscleaningbuddy · 4 years ago

Text

BTS DRABBLE-Yoongi

@libtastic Thank you for inspiring this idea and for sharing all your knowledge. Story Time Yoongi belongs to you. Love you, boo. 💜

Yoongi has never thought he was the sort of dad to go to the library-of his own free will-and sit through a preschool story time. However, he’ll do anything to make his daughter happy, and if that means going every week to said story time, he’ll be there. And honestly, getting to interact with the cute children’s librarian-who he may or may not be developing a crush on-is not such a bad bonus. Whatever makes his daughter happy, right?

Tags: BTS, Bangtan Boys, Bangtan Seonyendan, Bulletproof Boy Scouts, Beyond the Scene, BTS x you, BTS x reader, BTS Drabble, Librarian AU, Librarian!Reader, SingleDad!Yoongi, Dad Au, Dad Yoongi, Min Yoongi, Yoongi x you, Yoongi x reader, Dad!Bangtan, Fluff, Min Yoongi x you, Min Yoongi x reader

Genre: Fluff

Title: Story Time

Yoongi doesn’t quite know what brings him to the library that day. Maybe it’s the fact that Hyejin is whiny and bored-stuck inside because of the cold, dreary weather-or because the song he’s currently producing is going nowhere and starting to give him a headache.

Or maybe it’s because of the iron like grip that Seokjin has on the sleeve of his coat-dragging him through the stacks of books-and the guilt inducing sentiments and pleading words his friend had thrown his way that morning on the phone.

Whatever the reason, Yoongi is here now-Hyejin clinging tightly to his mitten covered hand-and he’s already regretting it.

The library’s children section is decorated in brightly colored colored cut outs-pasted loudly across all the walls-and posters that boast pictures of smiling kids and adults, holding books in their hands accompanied by slogans that loudly scream, Read! It’s the smart thing to do! and Reading makes the world go ‘round!

Every single person on those posters looks way too happy to be here in Yoongi’s opinion, and it’s only heightening his headache, pounding behind his ears and into his temples.

“You’re gonna love Miss (Y/N), Hyejin.” Jin says, slightly out of breath, pulling Yoongi back from his annoyed thoughts, as the older man slows down to fall into step beside father and daughter, adjusting the baby on his hip as he graces Hyejin with a beaming smile. “She’s the best. So fun, and very pretty.”

Yoongi’s head jerks up, and he shoots his friend a glare, as Jin grins wider in his direction, and sends him a, exaggerated, knowing wink.

Damn it, Yoongi knew Seokjin’s intentions weren’t pure. They never were.

Yoongi doesn’t have time to subtly flip Jin off or curse him out before the story time corner comes into view.

A group of bustling, giggling toddlers sits in a circle of rainbow, plastic chairs, a feeling of anticipation in the air, as their mothers shush the overly excited kids, and remind them to use whisper voices-and Yoongi notes, slightly sourly-that there seem to be no other dads present.

His eyes drift over the small crowd, and he notices you then, setting up a table at the front of the group, and adjusting some pillows on the large, overly worn arm chair that sits in the center of said brightly colored chairs, surrounded and seeming completely at home among all the squirming, loud toddlers.

He does have to admit, as he trudges behind Seokjin-Hyejin eagerly pulling at his fingers as they look for seats-that you are really pretty.

Seokjin leads Yoongi and the kids to a corner, where he settles down into the hard plastic of one of the children’s seats, patting the one beside him as he raises a brow in Yoongi’s direction, where he’s still standing, feeling slightly out of place.

“Come on, sit down.” Jin encourages teasingly, as he shuffles his infant daughter around on his hip once more, reaching for her binkie where it has fallen to the floor, while simultaneously hushing his son, who is speaking a little too loudly and animatedly to the little girl next to him.

“Daddy, sit by me!” Hyejin pipes up, her clear voice floating above the others, as she tugs at Yoongi’s hand and looks up at him with wide, dark eyes, her black pigtails sticking out at odd angles from beneath her beanie. She flashes him a grin, so much like his own, all white teeth and pink gums. “Sit down, daddy!”

Yoongi sighs, and stifling his urge to roll his eyes, slides into the too small chair beside his daughter, managing to give her a smile, as he nods and says softly, “Okay, Okay Hyejin. Daddy’s sitting.”

“Mr. Kim!”

Yoongi’s head startles upwards at your voice, and suddenly, he’s caught off guard, as he comes face to face with you, standing in front of their group, a large smile on your lips, as you adjust the glasses on the bridge of your nose.

You’re looking at Jin, and his kids, not even in his direction, but Yoongi suddenly feels flushed, as if it’s a little too hot in the room. He reaches up to unwind his scarf, as Hyejin kicks her legs against the chair beside him happily.

“Ms. (Y/N)!” Jin replies warmly, sticking out his hand for you to take, as you shake it eagerly, eyes darting between him and the children at his feet. “It’s good to see you again!”

You laugh, and Yoongi think it’s the prettiest sound he’s heard in awhile-light and sparkling like the fresh snow that is falling outside the large library windows.

“You too.” You nod, and grin once more, before you crouch down to the childrens’ height, and reach out to pinch the Kim boy’s cheeks. “Hey, Jisung, how are you?”

“Good.” The little boy nods, and his eyes light up when you pay attention to what he’s saying and give a fond ruffle to his hair. “What’s story time about today?”

You smile, and give him a conspiratorial wink. “You’ll just have to wait and see.”

And then, you glance over in Yoongi’s direction-finally-and he’ll never admit it, but when your gaze meets his own, his heart stutters to a stop in his chest for a brief moment.

Jin must catch your curious gaze in Yoongi’s direction, because he’s hurriedly leaning forward, and almost too excitedly, exclaiming to you, “This is my friend, Yoongi. And his daughter Hyejin.”

“Hi.” You give a little wave in his direction, and it takes everything in Yoongi to form some sort of greeting to you in return.

That and the fact that Jin kicks him sharply-unseen-beneath the chair legs of the plastic seats.

“Shi-” Yoongi starts to swear, shooting him a glare, before he remembers that he is literally surrounded by children. Swallowing, he manages to pull the corners of his lips back into a tight smile in your direction. “Pleasure.”

“Hi!” Hyejin interrupts, practically bouncing in her seat, and Yoongi doesn’t miss the way that your face instantly softens and relaxes when you turn to address his daughter.

Maybe you’re a little bit like him, in the fact that he’s much more comfortable around children than he ever has been adults.

Something about overwhelming, pure honesty, and the fact that deception hasn’t been ingrained anywhere in their personalities yet.

“Hello.” You get down on your knees, carefully taking Hyejin’s small hand into your own. “You must be Hyejin.” You glance down her small, slim frame quickly, and your eyes alight when you smile broadly. “Wow. I love your cat sticker.”

Hyejin grins and proudly holds out the lapel of her winter coat, which is currently the home of a very large, very bright cartoon sticker of a cat, plastered with the words, Good Job!, across the bottom in bright pink letters.

“Thank you.” Her smile widens, as she glances up at Yoongi, and suddenly, he feels like he knows where this is going, and his cheeks are starting to warm. “I love kitties. Daddy looks like a kitty.”

Yoongi feels his cheeks flame brighter, as you glance over Hyejin’s head toward him, and a slightly amused look comes across your eyes, as you stifle back a laugh, and then tilt your head slightly, scrunching your nose in a cute way as you study him that has Yoongi’s heart once again faltering. “He kind of does, huh?”

Hyejin laughs, and you laugh with her, and Yoongi is startled-for the second time-at how clear and bright and pleasant the sound is.

“Well.” You pat Hyejin on the head and stand from your spot on the floor, glancing at the clock. “I need to get story time started. Do you think you can help me today, Hyejin?” You shoot her a look that clearly says you have a very important job for her.

The little girl nods, chest puffing out with importance and pride at your trust. “Yes.”

“Good.” You nod, and offering Yoongi a slight smile-as if the two of you are in on some sort of secret together-you make your way to the center of the circle, and clap your hands. “Okay, everyone! Welcome to story time! Let’s get started!”

******

You are slightly surprised to see Yoongi back again at story time the next week.

Sure, Hyejin had seemed to enjoy herself, and Yoongi hadn’t seemed to have had the worst time either, his eyes alight as he grinned softly and watched Hyejin participate in the songs, and books, and activities you had planned.

But Yoongi just didn’t come off as someone you expected to spend time in a library when he didn’t have to. Especially the children’s section.

But here he is-catching you off guard-as you glance over your shoulder from setting up to see Hyejin leading her father to their same seats from the week before, her brightly colored mittens clenched in his long fingers, her woolen hat low over her ears and eyes.

You straighten, and adjusting the last of the books on the table-Oh! by Kevin Henkes-you turn to glance at Hyejin, giving her a sneaky little wave, as she settles herself in her chair.

She giggles, and returns the wave, somewhat shyly, as she burrows into her father’s side.

Speaking of her father-

You let your gaze slip to Yoongi-a direct contrast to the bright feel of the children’s section-dressed in a long, black peacoat today, a knit cream sweater, and dark, ripped jeans, and you feel your breath catch in your throat slightly.

So dumb.

But the way his dark hair is falling over his forehead as he looks down at Hyejin-caramel eyes bright and attentive behind his black rimmed glasses-makes you feel some sort of way.

He’s a good dad.

And it doesn’t hurt that he’s also hot as hell.

Clearing your throat, you drag your gaze away from the duo, glad that he hadn’t caught you staring, and cheeks slightly flushed, you clap your hands to gain the attention of the preschoolers filling up the circle.

“Okay!” You grin, as the kids all turn their attention to you. “Let’s start! You glance behind you to the books set up on the table, and the various activities out on display. “Can anyone guess what our theme is for today?”

One of the little boys raises his hand immediately, and you point toward him. “Han? Yes?”

“Snow!” Han bounces excitedly in his chair, and his mom puts a hand on his shoulder with a smile, leaning over to whisper something to him, which makes him calm down, if only slightly.

“Yes! Good!” You clap again, and you can feel Yoongi staring at you, but you don’t lose focus.

Maybe he thinks you’re overenthusiastic or annoying or even a little crazy.

And you wouldn’t blame him.

But honestly, you just love this job.

You move on to read the first picture book, careful to take your time and show off all the brightly colored illustrations around the circle, doing silly voices and faces that make the kids giggle, and when you’re done, you sit back in your chair, closing the book, before you ask, “So. That was a good story huh?”

“Yes!” Hyejin’s voice rings clear above the others, and you glance in her direction, offering her a slight smile that you can’t hold back at her enthusiasm.

Without thinking, your eyes meet Yoongi’s, sitting next to his daughter, and your mouth goes slightly dry as he gives you the hint of a smile, his lips curling upward, as he cocks his head in your direction, a gesture that is oddly feline in nature.

You remember Hyejin’s cat sticker from the very first day, and hold back another, wider grin, as you turn back to the waiting group of toddlers.

“Now.” You reach behind your chair, and pull out a box, filled with soft, fabric white balls. “Who wants to have a snowball fight?”

********

Yoongi finds himself at story time the next week, and the week after that.

And before long, it is part of he and Hyejin’s regular schedule on Tuesday mornings. A natural hour that slides into the rest of their comfortable routine quite easily, which surprises him.

This week at story time, after you have read the last story and sung the farewell song with the children, waving them all goodbye until next week, Yoongi finds himself hesitating, not wanting to leave quite yet.

Hyejin tugs at the edge of his sweater, and when Yoongi glances down at his daughter, she’s watching him with eyes that clearly say she understands what’s happening. “Go talk to her, daddy.”

Damn her perception. She was too smart for Yoongi’s own good.

“I really don’t think-” Yoongi starts to make the excuse that you seem busy, putting away the materials, or that he has to take a call, or get back home to start work again, but before he can, you’re turning to them, a smile lighting up your face at the sight of them both.

“Did you guys need something?” You question curiously, and Yoongi feels his heart leap into his throat, as his eyes meet yours.

“Daddy wants to say something to you.” Hyejin states innocently, and Yoongi squeezes her small fingers within her own, as if to tell her to stop talking. She doesn’t spare him a single glance, as she scuffs her heavy winter boots on the floor and pushes forward. “He thinks you’re pretty.”

Yoongi chokes on his own spit. “Hyejin!”

He feels his cheeks flush hot, and he can tell you’re fighting back a smile, as you clear your throat, and kindly ignoring his startled coughing fit, crouch down before Hyejin, eyes soft and slightly curious, filled with amusement.

“Is that so?” You ask, but you don’t look up at him yet, and Yoongi is grateful for that, his whole face red and flushed, as he tugs mindlessly at Hyejin’s mittened hand, as if he can physically pull her away from spilling anymore of his secrets.

“Yup.” Hyejin nods, dark pigtails dancing across the slick material of the back of her bright pink coat. “He thinks you’re really pretty.”

“Hmmm.” You hum out, putting your finger against your lips-and Yoongi fights himself not to stare at your mouth with the movement-as you regard Hyejin seriously. “That’s interesting.”

You let a smile slip from between your fingers, and Yoongi feels his heart skip a beat. You lean toward Hyejin, as if you’re fellow conspirators sharing a highly guarded secret. “I think your daddy’s pretty cute, too, Hyejin.”

“You do?” Yoongi watches as his daughter’s eyes go wide at your declaration, and her mouth forms a perfect “o” of surprise and delight. She looks up at him then, tugging excitedly at his hand. “Did you hear that daddy? Did you?”

Yoongi swallows hard, and he nods. “I did, Hyejin.”

You stand up then, and your eyes meet his, and he swears, the smile that graces your lips, is the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

“So.” You start, reaching up to adjust your glasses. “Story time next week then?”

Yoongi nods again, this time more sure and confident, and he can’t help the smile that slips across his own lips at your words. “Story time next week.”

*****

It is several story times later when Yoongi surprises you once more.

You are ending the session, playing your classic closing tune “Skinamarink” happily and without care on your ukulele, missing some notes, but not even missing a beat, as you laugh and sing and lead the circle of dancing children around the corner of the library.

And today, when your eyes meet Yoongi’s briefly, over the heads of the wiggling preschoolers, you notice something. Something fond and affectionate in his expression, something in his dark, almond shaped eyes-as he watches you prance around and make a fool of yourself-that sends your heart skipping within the walls of your chest.

“Okay, okay!” You call out breathlessly, and not entirely from the singing and dancing. You clap your hands. “That’s goodbye for today, friends! See you next week!”

The story time nook is filled with bustling as the parents round up their children and coats and belongings, and you try to calm your still overly excited heart among the chaos by focusing on putting away your supplies.

But something tells you that Yoongi is still there, watching you with the same expression from earlier, and that makes your silly, stupid heart do dizzying circles once more, even as you bite your lip and try to focus elsewhere.

You are just finishing cleaning up the craft supplies, when you feel a tug on the edge of your dress, and glancing down, you see Hyejin, fingers curled around your skirt, looking up at you with wide, dark eyes and that gummy smile on her face that melts your heart.

The same gummy smile her father sports when he’s happy-an expression you have only seen in its full glory a few times over the last month-but an expression, that none the less, stops you in your tracks with its brilliance every time.

“Ms. (Y/N)!” Hyejin exclaims with excitement clear in her tone, as she shoves a carefully wrapped package into your hands. “I have a Christmas present for you!”

“What? No!” You gasp out with delight, sinking down onto the floor beside her, as you carefully inspect the gift that now rests in your lap. You note-with a flare of happiness in your chest-that there are carefully placed cat stickers covering the christmas wrapping paper. Obviously Hyejin’s touch. “Thank you, Hyejin!”

“Open it, open it!” Hyejin is bouncing on the balls of her feet with excitement beside you, and you hide away a grin as you do what you’re told, tearing into the wrapping paper, careful not to separate any of the stickers with your progress.

“Oh my gosh! Hyejin!” You exclaim as the paper comes away to reveal a copy of a children’s book entitled My Cat Looks Like My Dad by Thao Lam. Your mouth is slightly open, as you smooth your fingers over the crisp, new cover, and inspect the brightly, colored illustrated pages of the book. You can’t resist the urge to lift the new tome to your nose and take a whiff of that new book smell that you love so much.

You are touched, and suddenly, you feel as if it’s a little bit more difficult to swallow, as tears threaten to thicken your throat.

“I love it. Thank you, Hyejin.” You manage to say, your tone softened, as without thinking, you pull the little girl to you in a big hug. “Thank you, thank you.”

“You know why I got you that book?” Hyejin asks as she pulls back from you, and you find your fingers once more smoothing over the cover in your lap. You shake your head-though you have a good idea-and she grins happily, pointing to the title. “My dad looks like a cat too.”

You laugh then-you can’t help it-and it’s the first time you’ve looked at Yoongi since you caught him watching you during the ending song.

He looks so effortlessly beautiful-standing slightly behind Hyejin-hands deep in the pockets of his coat, watching the two of you with amber eyes, dark hair falling easily over his forehead and onto the rim of his wire glasses.

He shrugs slightly and offers you the start of a smile, and when he speaks, his voice is warm and deep and comforting, and you feel your heart speed up once again. “She picked it out herself.”

You let your gaze linger on him for another brief moment, and then shaking your head slightly, you glance back to Hyejin, flashing her a smile as you say, “I got you a present too, Hyejin!”

“Really?” Hyejin asks with surprise, her eyes going wide and round, as she watches you reach behind you and pull out a neatly wrapped pink and purple package, complete with shiny bow and a large cat sticker.

“Here.” You hand it to her, and watch with a smile on your features, as she rips open the paper, not sparing a second glance as it falls to the floor at her feet to reveal the children’s book you had picked out for her.

“It’s so pretty.” Hyejin says softly, and you appreciate the way she instantly runs her fingers carefully over the art on the cover of the book, tiny fingertips gently tracing the spine of the worn, older looking tome.

“It was mine when I was a kid.” You say simply, feeling emotional again,a s you watch the little girl in front of you admire the book the same way you always had as a child. “It’s called There’s Something in my Attic. I read it over and over. And I want you to have it.”

Hyejin spends another moment admiring the book, and then she throws her arms around your neck without warning, nearly knocking you off balance.

You glance once more at Yoongi over the top of his daughter’s head, and that same expression is back on his face, the expression that makes you feel safe, yet slightly nervous at the same time.

Jittery almost, as if he’s making you anxious, but in a pleasant, waiting for Christmas morning, kind of way.

When Hyejin releases you and sits down on one of the empty colorful chairs to carefully flip through her new book, you brush off your knees and stand, not really sure what to say next, as you and Yoongi stand staring at one another.

You clear your throat, but Yoongi beats you to the punch, stepping toward you and closing the distance between the two of you, before he holds out his palm in your direction, fingers unfurling to reveal a small, ribbon wrapped box in the middle of his hand.

“What’s this?” You ask, slightly suspicious, and you don’t miss the way his lips quirk upward in amusement at your question.

“Just open it.” He says, and his tone is slightly shy, as he glances away from you, biting on his bottom lip. “Hyejin got to give you her present. Now it’s my turn.”

You take the package from his palm-trying to ignore the way your heart starts to pound as your fingers brush against his own-and carefully undo the red ribbon that adorns the box, before slipping the lid off, breath held as you crane your neck to peer inside.

And when you see what’s inside the box-nestled among the folds of tissue paper and velvet cushion-you laugh, the sound surprised and genuine.

“What-” You start to say, as you slip your fingers beneath the cat sticker, carefully positioned on the pillow, and hold it up for Yoongi to see. “What is this?”

“Well.” Yoongi shrugs, his cheeks going slightly red, as he offers you a shy smile, and reaches out to take the sticker from between your extended fingertips. “I was hoping you’d wear this.” He must see the way your brows inch up, because he hurries to finish explaining, glancing down at the sticker within his hand. “And that I could take it as a sign that you’d agree to go on a date with me?” He ends the sentence in a question, his cheeks growing darker.

You bite back a grin at his rushed words, spilling from his lips as if he’s worried you’ll say no before he can finish. Because damn it all, this is the cutest thing you’ve ever seen. Yoongi is the cutest thing you’ve ever seen.

“Hmmm.” You step toward him, pretending to think over his offer, glancing down at your feet, toe to toe with his dress shoes, which he always seems to wear, regardless of the weather. And then you tilt your head to meet his gaze, and offer him the brightest grin you can muster. “I think I can agree to that.”

Yoongi’s features-held tight with stress-instantly relax, and suddenly, he’s grinning back at you, and you’re blinded by the sight of the rare, full gummy smile, that leaves you reeling and feeling like butterflies have invaded your stomach.

He leans toward you, and carefully placing the sticker onto the collar of your dress, smooths it down with steady, gentle movements of his long fingers, his warm, amber eyes-holding that look once again-locked with your own.

The corners of his lips have not dropped down from the smile he gave you earlier, and his fingers stop their movements on your collar, simply sitting on the fabric there, as he intones softly, “So, story time next week.”

And this time, it is not a question.

You nod, feeling so happy you’re lightheaded, and reach up to intertwine your fingers with his own where they still rest against your dress. “Story time next week.”

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olivetreehugger · 3 years ago

Text

SnK Scouts/Veterans as Health Care Workers

Note: features Eren, Mikasa, Armin, Jean, Connie, Sasha, Levi, Erwin and Hange. A part two to my “SnK Warriors as HCWs” post found here. warning: mentions of blood, trauma, gore (it’s healthcare). Also, I know Hange is nb, I headcanon them as female, so I will be using she/her pronouns.

Eren: this boy is definitely too involved in everything and has too many people depending on him at once to not be a nurse. The kid barely passed the NCLEX but that didn’t stop him from applying to every trauma center within a 25 mile radius of him. He got hired as a night shift trauma ICU nurse and he frequently picks up shifts in the ER. He wears the cheapest scrubs he can find, often stained with ink in the pockets area. He isn’t a shitty nurse per se but there are tasks that still need to be done at the end of his shift and he gives a crappy report that’s missing too many details. Nurses hate picking up his patients, it’s always a mess. His charting is really spotty and he gets called into the manager’s office all the time to fix it.

Still, he tries really hard to improve his time management and skills. He wants to be like his friends Mikasa and Reiner, who are the best nurses he knows. He wants to be involved in the traumatic cases and emergencies because he wants to learn as much as he possibly can. He’s really good at wound care, for some reason (hint hint). He’s kinda cocky sometimes too, which can be troublesome when Dr. Galliard is working. People know to steer clear of those two when they’re both in the ER. Also, Eren always has a black cloud around him; whenever he works it’s gonna be a hella busy day in the hospital. Lots of emergency surgeries, intubations, codes and deaths. He’ll always jump in to help you if your patient is crashing, though, no matter how busy he is.

Mikasa: she’s a prodigy. She was a straight ‘A’ student in nursing school, got a perfect 75 on the NCLEX and was immediately hired to the trauma ICU after doing a short internship there. She worked night shift for a year but her sleep schedule was so so fucked she started having night terrors, so she switched to day shift. Eren still calls her a traitor for it :/. She keeps trying to get him to switch over but he just hisses at her and threatens to chug a case of Monster energy drinks. She hasn’t given upon him yet, though.

This girl’s work ethic is beyond measure. She comes in exactly at 6:30 am, looks up her patients, takes report, gives a great update to the doctors when they round, and provides impeccable care to her patients. She knows exactly which treatments the doctors will order before they even speak. She’s incredible at inserting IVs--everyone in the hospital knows Mikasa Ackerman can put an 18g in a 90 yr old lady’s arm AND get blood return (just trust me, it’s flipping impossible). She has great skill when it comes to emergency situations and is a big believer in team work. If she notices your patient’s crashing and you don’t know what to do, she’ll calmly coach you and save your patient, too. All before lunch time.

It doesn’t take Mikasa long to be promoted to charge nurse. When she’s in charge all the reports, paperwork and audits are completed before shift change. She divides the patient assignments really well and is very fair to the new grads. All around she’s an incredible nurse and leader on her unit, but don’t be fooled. If it’s been a rough day, Mikasa will get in her car and sob so loud her throat goes raw. A lot of people depend on her and working in a trauma ICU is really, really demanding. A lot of patients are demanding, rude and busy. She has a lot of trouble with stress management and is thinking of cutting her hours down so she can catch a break. Someone please hug her <3

Armin: for some reason my brain is just SCREAMING respiratory therapist. Like, I imagine this beautiful blond boy in gray scrubs (the color for RT’s in my hospital) going around helping intubate patients, giving nebulizer treatments and doing blood gases. I can just see him huffing and puffing when the attending doctor is overzealous about weaning vent support. -“Why are we changing the patient to pressure support? do you see how tachypneic he is on volume control?”

-“are you gonna put in the order? if not, your patient’s gonna be on PRVC all day, I’m not changing it without an order”

-“Doc, the patient looks like crap and their blood gas looks like death...oh, you still wanna extubate? ok, well I’m gonna leave the ventilator in here just in case. better yet, let me call a pastor in here, too.”

This kid is sassy af and he knows it. He’s smart af too, knows everything there is to know about the lungs and respiratory care. Knows every ventilator mode better than most doctors. Will certainly tell a resident off for ordering the wrong type of inhaler for a patient. He’s so damn intelligent that he even made the ice queen Annie melt like a popsicle.

He has no chill when it comes to his patients and even less chill (like -4078875874670) when a doctor gets in his way. For this reason, Armin has recently been toying with the idea of going to PA school so he can have a little more autonomy. He works al over the hospital, usually frequenting the trauma, CV, and medical ICU. The nurses there love him.

Jean: Jeannie boy. Baby. Sweetie. He’s also a nurse. He is strictly dayshift and trauma. When he first started, he thought he’d do a year in the ICU and then go to CRNA school. He didn’t want to be around sickly patients with hopes and dreams and fears--it was too icky for him. But, over time, he learned that he LOVED trauma. Jean loves the controlled chaos that comes with the ugly, bloody messes that roll in through the ICU’s doors. He always gears up for trauma season (summer time) by bringing Dunkin Donuts iced coffee for everyone on the unit (day and night shift because he’s a supportive king). He gets really good at dealing with arrogant trauma residents and ortho docs who think they’re hot shit. When Jean sees a resident yelling at a nurse, he jumps in and threatens to have their license revoked. He will dig under their skin and page them incessantly throughout the day, too, just to get back at them. Jean is not a fan of lateral violence in the workplace, no sir.

He always, always makes sure every room is stocked and new bags are hanging for the next shift. He has a thing where if things aren’t properly organized on the unit his brain just spazzes. He’s on the unit council and education committee because he also loves to teach the new grads. He also doubles as charge nurse, when management can’t be there (there can be one or more charge nurses amongst the staff, they usually work different days, though) He and Mikasa work so well together, teaming up to get tasks done, coding patients, running them down to get scanned, etc. People joke they’re the mom and dad of the unit. It makes them both blush <3 (Eren doesn’t like it, lol)

Jean loves to see patients healing from horrendous injuries, he’s constantly cracking jokes with the awake patients to try to make them feel better, and he’s really good at calming anxious family members down. Our boy just makes such good connections with people. He’s the guy you call when your confused patient is one second away from ripping his breathing tube out. He can convince the most restless, agitated patient to chill out. He’s got the voice for it. Also people love his mullet. It looks great.

Connie: I really didn’t know at first but I feel like Connie would make a great physical therapist. He’s got great energy, he’s funny and I could see him dancing to Earth, Wind & Fire in front of his patients to hype them up for therapy. He’d be very sweet with them

Sasha: I’m sick and tired of the food jokes, quite honestly. She’s more than that. In my mind, she’s an occupational therapist, helping disabled patients learn to feed, dress and clean themselves again. She works directly with Connie as they round on all their patients in the hospital, they make a great team! She’s extremely patient and would make a very good nurse, but is unsure of where life is taking her. That is until she meets Niccolo the dietician in the cafeteria, and she falls hard. He encourages her to follow her heart and she does!

Levi: Hm. This one stumped me. Levi is a bit...cold. It’s not like he has incredible social skills. He’s meticulous and focused and kinda mean? He reminds me of an anesthesiologist, tbh. Like he’ll sedate the shit outta you for surgery, makes sure you don’t die on the table, and then drops you off to the unit as fast as he can. He never takes off his mask while in the hospital and he scrubs maybe four times before surgery. He is very good at medication calculations and knows everything about nerve blocks, intubation, pain medication and sedation. He can look at a person and just KNOW what kind of sedative to give and how much. Your blood pressure will never bottom out while he’s there, he’ll warn the surgeon and immediately get that norepinephrine started.

If Zeke is the one operating, Levi is on his ass to finish up the surgery ASAP and to not linger, because Zeke takes his time and ignores the tele monitor alarming in the background. After surgery, this 5′2 demon will scream at the 6′ resident about the importance of blood pressure management and sedation in neurosurgical patients. Levi plays no games and he also just really hates Zeke lol

He seems like a jerk but genuinely cares about getting his peeps through surgery. His favorite surgeon to work with is Hange Zoe, because she’s brilliant and fast, but also cognizant of her patient’s hemodynamics. Levi likes taking trauma cases as long as it’s with her. When he drops a patient off to the trauma ICU or goes there to intubate, he makes sure Jean or Mikasa are there because he knows everything is gonna go smoothly. He trusts them a lot. He likes Armin, too and even let him intubate a few times. On his breaks, he’s drinking tea and reading a Williams & Sonoma catalog or scrolling through cleaning Tik Tok lol.

Erwin: This man. This beautiful and hunky beefcake. Omg. I HC him as someone who went to nursing school, became a charge nurse on the trauma unit back in the early 2000′s and fell in love with it. Erwin would eventually fall in love with leadership and educating, too. He went back to school and earned his Doctorate of Nursing Practice (a practice doctorate). He managed the trauma unit for ten years before his brilliant leadership skills and wicked smart brain got him elected as the Director of Trauma Surgery recently. He is the first person with a nursing degree and DNP to ever accomplish this, so it’s very controversial. A lot of toxic doctors threaten to leave the hospital for this (because they’re assholes), but Erwin threatens to fire them in response and it usually shuts them up.

He often holds lectures in the hospital auditorium. With a mind and voice like his, people are so drawn in by him. He advocates for nursing staff, for reimbursement when continuing their education, better staffing, parking, etc. He makes nice with doctors and gets them to sign petitions for the nurses to get these things. He’s a bit manipulative He’s also a fantastic manager and director, he’s really good at negotiating things. The nurses and residents all love him because he rounds on every ICU frequently, brings food, and asks them how he can help. He can be a bit daunting because of his height and deep voice but once he starts talking to you, you just get sucked in. All around an absolute king.

Hange: This character reminds me of a trauma surgeon and intensivist (ICU doctor) we have, Dr. Omi. A great surgeon, really really smart, but takes absolutely NO bullshit. She will yell at you if you freeze during intubating. She wants you to recite every step before you take it, otherwise she’ll take the tube from you and do it herself. In surgery, she’s the same way. She wants you to learn, but by her standards. If she asks a question, you better know the answer or fess up right away, she doesn’t like the “uhms” of uncertainty as you try to search for a shitty response. Either you know it or you don’t. And if you don’t, she’ll teach you. Yeah she can be rough around the edges, but she’s got a big heart. She loves her trauma team. She buys them breakfast and gives them funny personalized gifts. One time, she bought an apply tree for Mikasa and brought it to her car at the end of a shift. Mikasa forgot to plant it and it died in her backseat. Hange will sometimes ask, “Mikasa, how’s your apple tree growing?” and Mikasa will lie through her teeth. “It’s growing!” Fess up, Mikasa. Those google search apple trees are starting to look familiar.

All around Hange loves to work and teach. She is a wonderful trauma surgeon and has saved tons of lives.

#snk headcanons #attack on titan #eren jaeger #mikasa ackerman #armin arlert #jean kirstein #connie springer #sasha braus #levi ackerman #erwin smith #hange zoe #lama writes

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nothingbutimagines · 4 years ago

Text

The Holidate (Steve Rogers)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Warning: Cursing, fluff, lots of bickering and pining

Summary: After Y/n’s grandmother has been hounding her to get a boyfriend, Y/n convinces Steve, the only team member alone on Christmas and her slight enemy, to go with her to her family’s Christmas Eve dinner.

Author: Dizzy

A/N: On the second day of ficmas, my fanfic writer gave to me two characters fake dating on Christmas Eve. Tomorrow is Roommate!Tom Holland x Reader and yesterday was Peter Parker x Reader. As always, requests are open and happy holidays to you all!

Masterlist Request Any Of These Peter Parker/Tom Holland Masterlist

__________________

“Yes, Grandma, I will be bringing my boyfriend with me.” You said softly, holding your phone between your ear and your shoulder as you folded clothes and placed them into your overnight bag. “Yes, he’s very handsome, of course. His name? It’s uh-”

Steve walked into the view of your doorway, knocking on the door frame softly, his eyebrow raised at you.

“It’s Steve. Yes, Steve. Cute, right? Listen, I have to go, but I will call you when we are on our way, okay?” You gave Steve a slight wave as you straightened up, holding the phone away from your face. “Love you too. Bye.”

You let out a heavy sigh, tossing your phone on the bed before turning to Steve.

“You think I’m cute?” He asked, a chuckle escaping his lips.

“Ew, as if.” You turned away, starting to fold your clothing once again. “I know you didn’t come here to eavesdrop on me and my grandmother. What do you want?”

“Well, this handsome man-”

“I never called you handsome.”

“I came here to inform you that everyone has left for the holidays, so this wing of the compound is about to be very cold since Tony wants to save electricity while everyone is out for the week.”

“Are you leaving, Steve?”

“No, I don’t have any plans. I just thought I’d stay here. Why?”

“How would you like to attend Christmas Eve dinner with my family?” You asked, turning to him with a glowing smile on your face.

“What’s the catch?”

Steve crossed his arms over his chest, leaning against the door frame as he studied the look on your face, attempting to read your expression as your smile fell slightly.

“Why would there be a catch?”

“Oh, come on, Y/n, you never do acts of kindness without something in return.”

You scoffed. “That is so not true! I do nice things all the time.”

“Yesterday, you gave me the extra burrito you had gotten at Chipotle and didn’t finish and then five minutes later, I got your Venmo request for the apparent four dollars and seventy-eight cents I ate.”

You laughed. “I only do that stuff to you cause it’s funny, but I didn’t think you’d hold a grudge about it.”

“It’s not a grudge-” Steve sighed and rolled his eyes. “Enough about yesterday. What is the catch in coming to meet your family?”

You zipped up your bag and looked at him sheepishly.

“I hope you’re a good actor because you have to pretend to be my boyfriend.”

Steve let out a laugh and shook his head. “I’d rather be alone on the holiday than pretend to be your boyfriend.”

“You forgot to say ‘no offense.’”

“No, I hope you do take offense. I’m not going and I hope you’re bothered.”

“I am! Steve, come on! I already told my grandmother you were coming. Please, I will do anything if you do me just this one favor.”

Steve raised a brow. “Really?”

You raised your hand and nodded. “Really. Scout’s honor.”

“You weren’t even a scout.”

“Uh, yeah, I was. I was a girl scout for like three years.” You argued. “Which is something you should know as my boyfriend.”

“I am not about to learn your life’s story just to be your fake boyfriend.”

“Yes, you are. We have a four hour drive ahead of us.” You replied, slinging your bag over your shoulder and slipping past him. “Now, let’s go get you some clothes and get the hell out of here. It’s already getting cold.”

“I think I can dress myself.”

“No you can’t.”

__________________

“I hate this sweater.” Steve stated, tugging at the woven fabric as he shifted in his seat.

“Oh my god, shut up about the sweater! It looks nice!”

“It’s so stiff and itchy. There’s a reason it was in the back of my closet.”

“Could you sound anymore like a child?” You snapped. “Also, when I said we were driving, I was hoping you’d get behind the wheel.”

Steve crossed his arms over his chest as you glanced away from the road and at him.

“Well, you’re the one who kidnapped me, so you have to drive. It’s only fair.”

“I didn’t even kidnap you! You came willingly.”

“That was before you made me wear this sweater!” Steve groaned, sinking into the car seat slightly. “It was also before I found out when you said you’d do anything for me in return, that meant you’d only wash my car and nothing else.”

“I don’t know why you expected me to willingly do paperwork for the next four days!”

“Because you said you’d do anything!”

“Ugh! We both know I’m liar!”

“You’ve got that right.”

You sighed heavily, moving your hands on the steering wheel. “I don’t know why I even asked you to do this. I should’ve asked Vision. At least he knows my last name.”

“I know your last name.”

“When I asked you what my last name was, you said Gatsby!”

“I know it now.” Steve corrected himself. “And of course Vision knows your last name! He’s a machine! Like a microwave!”

“I’d rather have a microwave who knows my last name as a fake boyfriend.”

“You’re the worst.”

“Speak for yourself.”

“Do you even know my last name?” Steve challenged, turning down the music that was playing on the stereo.

“It’s Rogers.”

“Oh, so you do know.”

“Yeah, I do know.” You scoffed, leaning forward and turning the music back up. “How about we just sit and listen to music for the last thirty minutes of this car ride?”

Steve turned down the music again and looked over at you. “I don’t even know what I’m supposed to say if your family asks how we met.”

“Easy. Just say we met at work.”

“Wouldn’t that be weird? Since I’m your boss?”

“Actually, Fury is my boss. You’re just like the one coworker who thinks he’s the manager when the manager isn’t there.”

“I am not!”

“Newsflash, asshole, you’ve been on the same playing field as us all the whole time!”

“Language.”

“Who are you? My father?” You refrained from rolling your eyes. “Let’s just get this story straight and we’ll worry about your old man attitude later.”

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that last part.”

“Anyway,” You started, “we will just say that we met at work and we’ve only been dating a few months now, but I’m bringing you because you don’t have any family to see on the holidays.”

“Oh, so I’m the sad orphan you’re saving? That’s the lie we’re going with?”

“Are you dying of fucking dementia, grandpa?” You asked, the sarcasm thick in your voice. “I literally didn’t make up a lie, it was all true!”

“Oh. Right.”

“Yeah. Just tell the truth, you know, minus the part where we are not dating.” You insisted. “And try to remember my last name, for the love of God.”

“It’s Y/l/n, I know. I’m never going to live this down, am I?”

“Never. Now you can see why when I said I’d do anything, I wasn’t going to do just anything.”

Your phone buzzed in the cup holder between you and you reached your hand down to grab it, instead grabbing something else soft and warm. You pulled your hand away, glancing over to see Steve’s hand already on your phone.

“You know, Y/n, if you wanted to hold hands, you could’ve just asked. We are dating after all.”

“Shut up. Just hand me my phone so I can read my text message. It might be from my mom.”

You reached for the phone in Steve’s hands, your other hand still on the wheel and your eyes on the road as he slapped your hand away lightly.

“No way. You’re driving. I’ll read it to you.” He insisted, attempting to open your phone before looking at you. “I need your face to open your phone.”

“There is a password. It’s ‘Steve sucks major dong’. all lowercase, no space.”

“That didn’t work.”

“I know it wouldn’t. I just wanted to say it.” You chuckled. “The password is ‘there is no password’, no spaces, all lowercase.”

“Clever.” Steve replied, now looking intently at your phone before reading out loud, “Peter aka Spiderboy says that he washed the car you asked him to and even waxed it since he thought it would look nice, so you can just venmo him his twenty dollars.”

“Oh, good. I didn’t think he’d get that done until the weekend.”

“You paid Tony’s little mentor kid to wash my car, didn’t you?” Steve asked, setting your phone down back in the cup holder.

“Of course I did. You didn’t really think I’d do it myself, did you? It so much easier to pay some kid cash than do it myself.”

“Fair point.”

You took a turn into the driveway of your parent’s house, sighing heavily as you put the car into park and turned to Steve.

“Listen to me,” You ordered, poking him in the chest. “If you so much as hint at the fact that we aren’t actually dating, I will kill you. Don’t call me pet names, don’t annoy me. We just need to make it through the next two days and we’ll never have to speak of this again.”

“Hold on. The next two days?” Steve’s eyes were wide as they met yours.

“Why the fuck did you think I packed you a bag?”

“I don’t know! Just in case I spill on myself?”

“Are you a baby? Do you need a diaper bag?” You mocked, your attitude clearly annoyed. “How often do you spill on yourself?”

“Well, never, but maybe now I might! Maybe I might because I’m nervous now that you’re holding me hostage in the middle of nowhere!”

“You are so dramatic, my God!” You groaned, unbuckling yourself before swinging open your door and jumping out of the car. “Just grab your bag so we can go inside.”

You opened the door to the backseat, now face to face with Steve who was on the other side, grabbing his own bag and coat. You stuck your tongue out at him, only to cause him to roll his eyes before you both closed your doors and you locked the car. You made your way around to Steve’s side of the car, holding your hand out to him.

“What are you doing?”

“Hold my hand.” You ordered, waving your hand at him.

“I don’t want to hold your hand.”

“Suck it up. You have to. We have to look like we’re together.”

“I hate you so much.”

“Shut up and hold it already!” You cried, waving your hand wildly before he took your hand in his. “Thank you.”

“Don’t talk to me.”

You guided him down the walkway and up the stairs onto your parent’s front porch. You leaned forward, ringing the doorbell before looking up at Steve, who had a strong frown on his face. You yanked his hand lightly, causing him to look at you.

“Smile. Look like you love me.” You whispered as the front door opened, to reveal your mother and father. “Mom, dad! Hi!”

“Y/n, honey, it’s so good to see you.” You mother beamed, looking between you and Steve. “Oh, you must be Steve! Y/n has told us so much about you!”

Steve raised a brow, a smirk on his face as he looked at you. “Oh, really?”

“Yes, of course! She thinks you are just the cutest and I can see why.”

“Mom, come on.” You groaned, feeling as though you were back in your teens, bringing home your high school boyfriend to meet your parents.

“Oh, hush, just let us have a chance to tease you.” She laughed, touching your shoulder as you slipped into the house past her.

“Yeah, sweetheart, let us have our fun.” Steve agreed, following you inside.

“Oh, Steve, Y/n’s father will take both of your bags to your room.” Your mother said, your father taking your bag from you and taking Steve’s as well. “I need to go check on the ham, but make yourselves at home! Everyone is in the living room.”

You nodded as your two parents departed before turning to Steve, taking your hand from him. “Sweetheart? Really?”

“I was trying to sound like a boyfriend.”

“It was weird. Please, don’t do that again. Just, just don’t call me pet names.”

“If I can’t call you pet names, what do I call you?” Steve asked as he followed you down the hallway to the living room.

“Just call me by my name, okay?” You nodded, flashing a smile before turning forward, walking into the living room.

“Y/n!” Your grandmother beamed, causing the rest of the room to turn and face you.

“Hello, Grandma. Hello, everyone, this is Steve. My, uh-”

“Her boyfriend. Nice to meet you all.” Steve gave a small wave to the room as you took a seat down on the couch besides your grandmother, Steve following your lead.

You gave your grandmother a quick kiss, sinking into the couch as Steve sat beside you.

“He’s very handsome.” Your grandmother whispered, leaning in close to you and gave you a quick wink. “Good job.”

You gave her a shy smile. “Thank you, Gran.”

“It’s uh, very nice to meet you, ma’am.” Steve spoke up, leaning forward to look past you.

“Oh, you too, honey. And might I say, you are cute as a button. If I was a few years younger, I’d swoon for you just as Y/n here has.”

“Okay, Gran. Let’s not embarrass Steve.”

“Oh, I’m not embarrassed.” Steve corrected, a hand on his chest, “I’m flattered, actually. But that blush on your cheeks might indicate you are the one embarrassed.”

Your mother walked into the living room, her smile bright as she clapped her hands together, gathering the attention of everyone in the room.

“Alright! Dinner is ready if you all are hungry.”

“Thank God.” You stood up, smoothing out the fabric of your pants as you took a deep breath. “Come on, Steve.”

“Coming.” Steve stood up and followed you threw the entrance to the kitchen.

“Oh, look who’s under the mistletoe!” Your grandmother beamed as you both stopped to look back at her.

“Oh, Grandma, please.” You shook your head. “It’s just a silly tradition.”

“Oh nonsense, Y/n, it’s fun.”

“Yeah, sweetheart, it’s just a funny tradition.” Steve smirked, grabbing your hand and pulling you close to him before kissing you softly.

You hummed, shocked by the gesture before melting a bit at the sensation of his lips on yours. You put your hand on his chest before pulling away, only to realize you were the only ones left in the hallway.

"If you ever kiss me like that again-" You whispered, your voice almost a hiss as you followed him down the hallway.

"Shut up, you liked it, you opened your mouth for tongue."

"I did not!" You retorted.

"Then why'd you lick mine when I stuck it in your mouth?" Steve questioned, looking back at you with a matter of fact look on his face.

"Just don't kiss me, alright?"

“So now I can’t kiss you? How do you expect us to fake date if I can’t even properly pretend?”

“You just want an excuse to kiss me, don’t you, Steve?”

“Oh, don’t act like you didn’t like that, too.”

“I can like the action of kissing without liking the person.” You stated, turning away from him as you grabbed a dinner plate, piling on the food you wanted before following the rest of the group into the dining room.

“Y/n, Steve, we left a spot open for you two so you can sit together.” Your mother motioned towards you.

You took a seat between Steve and your grandmother, sandwiched between them and wishing you hadn’t picked the spot as you looked around the table, your parents sitting at the two heads and you older brother and his girlfriend sitting across from you with your younger sister sandwiched between them.

“So,” Your mother started, looking at the two of you, “how did you two meet?”

“We met at work.” You stated simply, not looking up from your plate as you pushed around your food.

“I’m sorry, I should have asked Steve. Steve, how did you two meet?”

“Uh,” Steve looked over at you for reassurance, only to receive a confused expression in response, “we met at work, Y/n is right, but it wasn’t as simple as that. I think when we first met, we kind of butted heads a lot and bickered all the time.”

Steve glanced over at you, taking your hand in his. “You know how Y/n is, she teases everyone, and I think for a while I thought she just hated me, but then I figured out she was really only ever teasing me because she liked me. I don’t know if it was romantic or not, but I knew I liked her romantically. It was kind of a no-brainer, whether or not to ask her out. So, I did. She laughed in my face, of course, but when she realized I was serious, she reciprocated the sentiment and said yes.”

You watched Steve as he spoke, your hand warming up in his as you sat silently. You were amazed by the story, almost believing it yourself. He may not have known your last name until earlier in the day, but in that moment, you realized just how observant he was of you along with how easy you were to read.

It was true, you had only ever teased and tormented Steve because you liked him, but you were never sure if it was romantic interest in him that had you acting the way you did.

Sure, Steve was handsome and kind and he was easy to talk to when you actually talked to him and he never quite put up with your shit, but did you like him?

Your eyes grew wide with realization as you quickly turned down to your plate and began eating quietly.

“Y/n? Did you hear me?” Your mother asked.

“No, I’m sorry, I was lost in thought. What?”

“Did you tease Steve because you liked him romantically?” She asked. “Like a school boy pulling a girl’s pigtails?”

You shrugged, stabbing a piece of ham with your fork. “I don’t know. I think at the time, I didn’t really realize how much I really liked him romantically. You know how I am, I’m not the romantic type.”

“But somehow she sure did fall in love with me, right, doll?” Steve asked, putting a hand on your head, brushing through you hair.

You nodded against his head, swallowing hard. “Yeah, yes! I did. I love Steve quite a lot.”

“Oh, well that’s so sweet. John, your turn, tell us about this lovely lady right here.” Your mother turned her attention to your older brother, taking the spotlight away from you and Steve.

“Oh thank god.” You let out the breath you were holding and looked at Steve. “You’re a really good liar, you know that?”

“You’re not so bad yourself.” He whispered back. “We should fake date more often, maybe at restaurants for those free desserts you get on your anniversary.”

“I can’t stand you.”

“Oh, I think you can.” Steve chuckled. “You did say you love me ‘quite a lot.’”

“I was lying, just like you did with your little story.”

“But was I fully lying there?” Steve leaned in close to you, his face close to yours.

“I don’t know, you tell me.”

“You like me, don’t you, sweetheart?” He leaned in a little closer

“As if.”

“Oh really? Because the closer I’ve gotten, the pinker your face has gotten.”

“Don’t make me say it, Steve.”

“Oh, you don’t have to. The way you kissed me earlier has said enough.”

“You kissed me first.”

“And I’ll do it again.”

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