#miche on beffers' mind

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Beefers, tell us the hcs you have about Miche !!

Gladly (am excited)! I'm doing mostly SFW ones with a couple 🌶NSFW sprinkled in. I've come across a couple other wonderful hc lists, so I've made mine 80% goofy, 20% serious (might fuck around and come up with more later, who knows):

Hands are warm and dry, always.

Thick in the middle. I cannot see him with a slutty lil waist (but I will look and not object).

Conditions his facial hair when he decides to keep it longer and takes care of his hair and skin in general.

Ticklish af when he's in a certain mood.*

Enjoys smoking the mj but also uses it for PTSD (retired from Survey Corps after surviving bc I saved his sweet ass and punched Zeke right in the fuckin' nipple).

Snores but not all night, just when he's between sleep cycles.

Loves pears, thinks they're an underrated fruit. 🙄😏

🌶LICK & SUCK THIS MAN'S FRENULUM. Harder. No, harder. Ah, that's it.

Will wear out a pair of shoes before replacing them. I mean, the soles are worn paper-thin, probably have holes.

🌶Please massage his balls, too, please and thank you.

Favorite way to flirt is getting very close and just like, breathing and existing in your space without touching you (drives me wild in the best way).

Cannot stop eating spaghetti.

Secret beer and whisky snob, but you'd never know unless you ask.

*Touching his nipples will elicit a very unsexy noise. It's a guaranteed way to get him ticklish and, thus, giggly.

Absolutely stun-ning when he's giggly.

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What type of kissers are erwin and miche

Erwin is a delicate, gentle smoocher for the most part, giving slightly more than just a chaste peck. If things are starting to heat up, he’ll start lingering, eventually moving on to those slow, sensual open-mouthed kisses and brushing of the tip of his tongue over his partner’s. Mid-sex, face-to-face? There’s a decent chance that he’ll lose himself and get quite sloppy.

Miche’s, hmm, chaotically passionate but definitely respectful in public. Loves a “just because” makeout session, and that’s where the chaos part comes in—it’s as if his brain shuts off to let his mouth do what he loves. If given free rein and allowed to be the leader, it’s a random sequence of sweet pecks, licking, nibbling, sucking, in addition to the actual kissing, which varies in pressure and length. Sometimes he’ll try to carry on a conversation but is almost always making noises. Oh, and he is a drooler so his mouth is extra wet (he tries hard to be mindful of this).

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Book Club? Part 2

Part 1

But first, some notes: things have changed since I did Part 1, and I'm working on a rewrite that adds time between their introduction and Part 2. So if you read Part 1 or do, pretend that they kinda got to know each other, okay? Listen, the muse's inspiration took over, and I didn't want them to be strangers when he gets all mushy in Part 2. Personally, I'd run away if that happened.

Who/What: Miche Zacharius x afab reader. NSFW. He wanted to return the pleasure of course, but it turns out he was a bit smitten anyway. They actually get around to discussing the book.

Word count: 4.5k. Yes, for real.

Tags & CWs: Soft Miche, Reader is bad at feelings, humor, cussing, saliva, fingering, cunnilingus, PIV, self-indulgent af.

If you're here for just the smut, it's in the final quarter of this 😅

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Part 2

I look up after finishing the last pages of the unusual book. Miche’s still napping on his back, nude, left hand on his chest. His large window gets the setting sun, and damn, my view is unbeatable. Of the man, not the window.

The last of the brassy evening sunlight lays across his legs, revealing lines in his hair from the constant rub of gear straps, but it reveals more bruises I missed earlier. There’s an older greenish one on his upper left arm like he slammed into something. Curious, I stand for a closer inspection, fully aware of how fucking weird it is to watch someone sleeping. There’s a fresh bruise across his lower shins and a long slash on his outer calf, edges dimpled from stitches.

He needs to hydrate after training and this evening’s fun, so I scoot the chair to make noise and gauge how deeply he’s out. His legs shift, so I place my palm on his shoulder with a soft, “Hey, Miche.”

What am I doing?This is too personal, and I shouldn’t be here. However, if it’s possible for such a large man to be this adorable, then he’s the perfect example when he stretches, eyes fluttering open, and grinning up at me.

Fucking hell.

His eyes focus on the cup of water in my hand, and he slides his legs off of the bed to sit up and chug it, a couple of drops running down his neck and over his collarbone to drip onto the bed. It takes everything in me to not jump back into that bed when I meet his sleepy gaze.

“I finished the book.” Gotta get the hell out of here before whatever comes next.

“I noticed.” He studies me for a few seconds before reaching for my hand tucked under my elbow. “You good?” We were here two hours ago, with afternoon sunshine, existing on a different world, and now I’m stepping back when his fingertips graze mine.

I set the plate of food next to him on the bed. “Brought this if you’re hungry. I know you Section Commanders always have a ton of shit to do, so I’m gonna head out.”

He makes no move to eat, and I feel his eyes on me when I start pulling on my boots, stomach in a knot over potentially offending him. He’s been around long enough, so surely he’ll understand, right? There’s no way he’s as soft as he was earlier.

“Nah, I’m caught up, and we’ll have the next few weeks free to recuperate and plan.”

I nod, focusing on tying my laces.

“Yeah, yeah. I know what you’re doing but how about staying?”

The floor creaks when he stands, and I have to look; he’s backlit by the waning sunset, and I shamelessly drink in the scene, taking in everything from his hair to the glorious swell of his chest to his thighs to-

“’m going for an overdue shower. You’re welcome to make yourself comfortable, if you decide to stay.” I watch him pull on his dirty pants, stuffing himself in before doing the zipper, and it’s too intimate seeing something so mundane and personal. Goddamnit. I growl curses while taking off my boots, and he wraps me in this hug that keeps chiseling away at my hesitation.

“You sound like your captain cussing under your breath like that,” he mumbles against the top of my head. “But I’m glad to see your shoes by the door again.” Glad you’re staying. He hugs me tighter, clinging. I run through a dozen scenarios in my head, including being love-bombed at the present moment; his way with me is almost too familiar. I’d asked around before really considering thinking about him and got nothing negative.

“I’ll think about staying for a bit. Besides, we still have book club,” I finally say. “Especially since you’ll smell fresh. Not like cum and sweat.” He beams at my answer and leaves with this silly open-mouthed smile.

I light two of his lamps to browse his bookshelves, starting with the portraits while hoping he takes his time in case I change my mind. The first is of who I assume are his parents. Miche has his mother’s coloring and eyes, his father’s nose and brow. He has two portraits of them, the other larger and more recent. Beside this one is an oval painting of three children: one who’s clearly Miche with his sister and brother. Their brother looks like he’s the baby and takes after their father with his darker hair and youthful brown eyes. Miche seems to be eldest, and he and his sister favor each other. I’m tickled over how adorable Miche was with his childish bowlcut and chubby cheeks.

There’s not much order to his books, maybe a loose grouping by topic. I pull one about insects, deciding to say fuck the worrying for now. It’s not like we’ve never lost anything, and I’m fearing too far ahead anyway.

Miche comes in after tapping on his own door while I’m comparing illustrations of butterflies in the book at his desk. I turn to see his wide eyes on me like he’s surprised I’m still here.

“Hey, Sweetness.”

Sweetness. I’m not a pet name person. He leans over me with a hum and braces his palm on the desk to see which book I have, close but not uncomfortably so.

“Hey, uh,” I start. Oh, I’m nervous. “I don’t want you to think my hesitation was because of you, in a negative way.”

He rests his chin on my shoulder, and his stomach growls. I’m about to tell him to sit and eat, but he says in a quiet voice, “I’ve been wanting to talk to you basically since you started.”

“Crush at first sight?”

He chuckles and sits on his bed with the plate. “Do people our age still call it a crush?”

I have absolutely no response as the word mistake lurks on the edge of my thoughts. He’s serious. “Oh, shit. Shit. I’m very flattered, but...”

“Too risky, right? Getting attached or something.”

“Exactly.” There’s a slight flinch in his eyes, so I attempt humor. “Are you saying it’s too risky for me, or is it risky for you because you were crushing on me for months?”

“You goof,” he laughs. “I mean anyone getting attached is risky.”

I close the book and fully look at him. He’s grinning at me, eyes twinkling in the lamplight, and then this motherfucker says, “Feels like I caught a star or something today,” before shoving the rather big final chunk of bread in his mouth and mumbling, “But better. Real.”

Those words are from the book he lent me. The whole reason why we’re here: a fucking romance novel. His words should be too much for me, but the dopey way he’s chewing the damn bread at me makes them seem playful.

“You’re ridiculous,” I giggle. What wins here? Rationality says it’s way too fucking soon for all of this and that I need to take my leave, now. Logic reminds me that there’s nothing to lose here aside from a little rationality. Plus, he admitted to having a crush (mind-boggling).

I crawl onto the bed behind him to hide where it’ll be easier for me to open up. “I gotta admit that I don’t know what the hell to do here.” He sits still, listening while I glide my hand over his back and sides, my fingers finding remnants of previously broken ribs. “I assumed we’d just snack, talk about the book, get to know each other more after our fun. And here you are with this information and these too-sweet words.” I sweep my fingertips over his undercut, lightly scratching his scalp.

He lets my words hang, tilting his head back so I can reach more of his head. I stop to untangle his damp hair before it knots, and he breaks the silence.

“We’re both afraid.”

“Didn’t realize you are.” Fuck, I should’ve left. This is getting deep. “I like this shirt better than that thick training one. No buttons.” That gets a half-chuckle out of him. “I’m not good at this shit.”

“Don’t give a shit if you’re ‘not good at this shit.’”

I go back to scratching his head. “But I don’t know what it’s supposed to be like, just what it shouldn’t. And why now, this soon?”

“Well, Survey Corps shows you how quickly things can change, so...” he trails off with an exaggerated shrug and gives me space to think.

I do, dragging my nails over his scalp, thinking about how the character in the book longed for the comfort of being with the person he loved. Waking up next to them, sharing a pot of tea by the kitchen window on a stormy evening, splitting the last lemon poppyseed muffin.

“This,” he rasps, “this is what I want.”

“What, being petted like a horse?”

He snorts. “The intention behind it, goofy. Caring, you know? Of course, I‘ ll take being petted, too.”

“Oh, so that’s why you lent me the book. Preparing me for your confession.”

“A little, but it’s a good story. Wondered if it’d mean anything to you.”

I smooth his hair again, kissing it to soften my next blow. “You were warned that I’m bad at this. It was touching that they ended up together after everything they went through, but it felt like fantasy to me.” The fact that he hasn’t sent me on my way for my churlishness has me doubting my doubts. “Sorry.”

He sets the empty plate on his table and stretches out on his back to look up at me with those soft eyes. “Don’t be sorry; it is fantasy. Finished another book recently, also fantasy, with a character who says, ‘None of us sees more than a tiny piece of all the world, like we’re looking out a little window. I saw you through mine, and something inside me said That’s somebody you ought to know.’* I’m not asking you to marry me. Hell, I accepted long ago that’s not on my path, because every time I come back from an expedition is a fuckin’ miracle. I’m asking if you could see me from your little window, to spend time with me. To care.”

I’m speechless, replaying his words until my thoughts start to spin. Miche, I said I’m not good at this, followed by an apology. Miche, I need a lot of time, and it might not end up right, followed by an apology. This was a one-time thing. I’ll just hurt you. Probably by dying. Lets stick to books. Yeah, I have some recommendations. Yeah, I like that one-

He pokes my nose. “It’s been an hour.”

I’m an idiot. “You’re a shot of pure, beaming sunshine, you know that?”

Somehow, he wiggles closer, ribs and hip pressing against my bent knees. “I don’t but like hearing you say so.”

I sink onto his chest, easily finding a comfortable spot. Our hands comfort each other, mine moving in wide arcs over his chest, his fingers brushing through my hair, gentle as a whisper.

“I hurt the last person I was with,” I mumble against his chest. “First time in fifteen years I let someone get close like that. Or, I thought I did, because they said what hurt most was my distance.”

“Try to think about what’s going on now, the good right here.”

I groan, fighting another urge to run. “I should be pissed at you for convincing me like this.”

“You should?” he teases. “And what am I convincing you of?”

Convincing me to think about accepting someone’s care. Convincing me to allow myself to care too, instead of leaving so they can’t. “Damnit, Miche.” He knows; he’s ahead of me but has proven himself patient. “You’ll give me time, right?”

“Of course.”

“Can I tell you something else?” I don’t wait for his answer before saying it. “I thought about you bending me back over a table in the dining room and-”

“How?”

“I dunno, our pants conveniently disappear, and you-” A giggle cuts me off, and I lift my head. “Mid-lunch, shove aside a squadmate’s half-eaten apple. ‘Excuse me, I’m about to get railed by my man here.’”

His giggling gets intense when he tries to speak, wheezing what sounds like, “You? And that?” We’re both breaking down over this, but he keeps trying to talk. “No one’s done that with me before.”

“Obviously. I don’t think anyone besides Oluo would appreciate it, and Erwin would probably skin us.” He’s shaking and gasping, so I cut the shit to let him settle down.

“I meant doing what you did, taking charge. Seems like I’m always expected to lead, and it feels like a performance instead of a connection.”

I shove my face against his tit. “Come on, man! Are you pussy-drunk?” This renews his laughing fit, and I’m along for the ride because he squeezes me to him. It feels good making him fall apart twice in an evening.

“Yeah.” He lets me go to wipe his eyes. “Other reasons too. But I wanna know how you knew to do that. Might have to work on my poker face.”

I tuck my hand under my chin. “You don’t have a good poker face. We’ve played.”

“Aw, hell.”

“To answer your question though, you kept looking at me during dinner with these wide eyes, like nervous or doubtful.”

“I was! Didn’t wanna make the wrong move while wishing you’d do anything to me.”

It’s still unbelievable, the things he’s saying this evening.

“Have any thoughts about me besides your naughty table one?” he asks.

“Yeah.” I grasp his shoulders to pull myself close and kiss down his long nose. “Thought about wanting to get to know you and your pretty eyes. Then I came back from that expedition to you waiting to share a book with me.” I brush my lips against his, feeling his chase mine before I give in to share a soft, lazy kiss.

“Gonna make me melt again,” he murmurs.

“You should get some sleep.” When I start scooting out of his arms to take my leave, he blocks me with his legs. “Miche, I-”

“Hm-m, stay? Please?” He pulls me back onto him.

-----

I wake up as a warm little spoon tucked under his chin with his arms around me. It’s easy to doze like this, listening to his breath, feeling his heart against my shoulder. Until he starts snoring. I roll over under his arm, and he’s grinning already. “You snore.” The front of his hair dried slightly wonky.

“Was hoping your voice’d be the first thing I hear.” Oh, a gravelly morning voice, huh?

I tuck my feet against his legs. “So warm.”

“You kept saying that in your sleep. It was cute.”

“’s true.”

“Sweetness?”

Damnit. “Hm?”

“You hungry?”

“I will be, probably go for breakfast after a shower.”

“I can wait for you.”

It’s casual, the way he offers this, like he says to me often. I prop up on my elbow, and he quickly wiggles his head under mine, blinking up at me. Sleep marks cross his cheek and temple, and I flick sleep from under his eye. The short-lived dreamy haze cracks, and my stomach sinks realizing I’ll close his door behind me and never see that afternoon light in his eyes again. Think about what’s going on now, the good right here.

I can chose to stay and feel things out, right? It’s not like we’re getting younger, and we know our days are numbered.

“Hey, we don’t have to go together. ’s okay. But you’ll come back, right? Wanna-no, need to treat you.”

Morning breath be damned, I slide my leg over his and lean in to kiss him. It’s harder to talk myself out of this, to keep myself from caring, regardless of his reminder about treating me.

“We’ll go, and yes, I’m coming back.”

-----

Walking into the dining hall with him? Eating with him? Uneventful, except for this knowing look from my captain.

Miche and I split to handle our separate duties after breakfast with the intention of meeting in his quarters at 15:00. “Bigger bed,” I remind him when he asks if I’d prefer my quarters.

I get to his door closer to 15:30, running behind from an errand, and he opens before I can knock, standing there giving me that big goofy smile. “You made it.”

“Sorry, got stuck in a long meeting...” My thought fades when he scoops me up like I weigh nothing, lifts me to peck my lips, and lies in his side still holding me. No one has ever handled me like this, moving me at their whim in an intentional, loving way.

I curl up in his arms, playing with his hair while we wind down from our days. His brow softens, duties fading so he can exist in this reprieve. He probably sees something similar in me, because he asks, “Anything specific you like?”

“Wish I could say, but it’s more about what feels good in the moment.”

“I just wanna get my mouth and hands on you.” His words, his voice, make my head swim with how quickly they light me up.

“Yeah? What are you waiting for?”

“Those words.”

He gets me on my back, his breath behind my ear. I try to pull him closer, but he resists with a grunt against my neck. The heat of his breath makes me dizzier, and I let my hands drop from his shoulders.

“That’s it,” his whispers.

And oh, the way his large rough hands feel sliding under my shirt and over my ribs. My breath catches when his fingers brush my lower stomach. “Can we take this off?” he asks, tugging the hem of my shirt.

“Take everything.” His hands move slowly, reverently, not bothering with his own clothes before sitting between my legs and resting my thighs on his knees. “Yours?”

“In time, ‘m busy,” he whines. There’s a moment of silence while he takes me in, then he swipes his thumb over me. “Wow.”

“What?”

He admires my arousal between his thumb and finger. “For me?”

“Yes,” I answer, curious, and hold in my laugh. He throws his head back and lets out a whispered howl. My face and chest burn so hot I feel another wave of chills, then he lowers his eyes, all dreamy and heavy-lidded, to find mine, and he sucks his fingers.

“All mine?”

I don’t know if he actually wants an answer, but I give one. “Yes, Miche. All yours.” His mustache curls with this eager grin, and I clarify, “For now.”

“I’ll take it.” His hands ghost over my sides and stomach again, but it’s comfortably ticklish. I close my eyes when his touch reaches my hips, and he does what I did to him—frames my groin to massage me.

I peek, seeing his jaw hanging, and he swallows when nudging the tip of one of his thumbs into me. “You’re pulling me in.”

“Give in.”

He does, making me shiver; he sees, knows that he’s earned another crack in my wall. This is why I want to maintain control. I don’t want to be known, it’s too much exposure, yet Miche somehow got past that with a goddamn book.I’m done for.

And that’s okay right now, because he withdraws his thumb and drops to his stomach, shaking the bed. His fingers rub small circles over my inner thighs, his hot, wet mouth trailing along the circles. The tickle from his mustache causes more shivering under delicious, tingling waves. I shove his pillow under my head, peering over my body at him when his tongue begins exploring.

“Fuck,” he mutters before slipping his tongue deeper and groaning. “Of course you taste this good.”

I reach to hold his hair back, quickly realizing it’s gonna take strength to not explode from the view of his face between my thighs. Those eyes meet mine...and my god, the fucking rush.

“Gonna watch?” he asks without pulling away and presses the tip of his tongue above my clit. I smile and start to answer, but he pushes his wide tongue against me and drags it down. He repeats this, increasing pressure each time. When he adds soft flicks before the even drag of his flattened tongue, my strength falters.

He pauses, eyes wide, his cheek against my thigh. “You okay?”

I breathe and ease my grip on his hair. “You almost had me there.”

“I know.” His hand leaves my thigh so he can slide a fingertip into me, and he blinks, hard, before looking to the side to release a long breath. “Oh my g-tell me when y-”

“Now.” He closes his eyes, mouth resuming his tending while he gently works his thick finger into me. Soon, he’s humming over my clit, syncing the near-agonizingly slow rhythm between his tongue and hand.

“Miche, you’re almost hitting my sweet spot, you feel it?” The pad of his finger immediately moves over it, and he adds more pressure with his tongue. My thighs squeeze his head, and I almost feel bad when I notice I’m tugging hair again. Just before I lose it, I try to ask, “Now?” but it comes out as a squeak.

“Hm?”

“Now?” I pant.

Miche lifts his head, pulling out his finger to begin gently giving me two. He sucks in his bottom lip when I groan from the pleasurable addition, but he quickly gets his tongue back in place, fingers finding that spot again. This is all it takes. He’s moaning along with me while I ride it out, prolonging the waves with softer licks while my breathing slows.

“Wish you could see the absolutely beautiful mess I made of you,” he whispers.

“Your face gives me some kind of idea.”

“Everything was fine yesterday, right?”

“More than fine.”

“Was anything-was I uncomfortable to...”

I’d be humored if he didn’t look worried. “No. We didn’t meet all the way, but still.”

“Don’t wanna hurt you, ever.” He leans over me, and I kiss his slick nose.

“If you’re wanting me to wax poetic about your body, just say so, but it’d help if you ditch the clothes.”

“No, it’s not that.” Yeah, there’s a smile struggling under his mustache. “You’re kinda compact.”

“Be serious. You don’t need an anatomy lesson, right?” Neither of us can keep from giggling any more.

“You’re somethin’.” He hops off the bed to shuck his clothes, both of us still shaking with suppressed laughter when he eases his weight on me.

“Mhm, I’m funny.”

He starts giggling again, giving up and dropping his head against my shoulder just to whine, “Sweetness” behind my fucking ear.

“That’s gonna do me in. I think you know that.”

“Kinda the goal, huh?” he winks, shifting to kneel so he can gather my wetness to coat his cock. I think about offering to do it but don’t—it’s fucking hot watching the shine of my arousal mixed with his saliva spread over his pretty deep pink head and thick shaft, and he’s looking at me in return through his messy hair. I scoot to clamp my thighs against his hips, wink up at him, and tug him onto me.

His sighs, and I hold back the hair hanging over his forehead and eyes, revealing a few wiry white hairs that I missed yesterday. “So much beauty to see,” I murmur and slip my free hand between us, eager to finally get my hand around him.

He’s close enough for me to nock his tip, and I feel my cunt pulling at him. “You can take it from here, Miche.” But he hesitates, so I reassure him. “I’ll say if anything’s uncomfortable.”

“’ll go slow, if not for you then for myself.” He does, slowly starting to push into me before taking a timid pause, watching me for any discomfort.

“You’re good, keep going.” I spasm around him when he pushes further, and I get lost in everything, his weight, his scent, the taste of his skin. And it’s all intensified by the way he’s watching me, pausing with his cock partially buried before dragging his hips back to utter a pinched groan while giving me more with his next slow push. I float in pleasure, mumbling encouraging words, and soon our groins meet. He stops here to kiss me, and feeling his tongue against mine, tasting him, makes my cunt squeeze him.

“That’s gonna-”

“Take a break when you need to.”

He does, pulling out to press his cock head to my clit. “Wanna last long enough to feel you cum on my dick.”

“Think about the ODM straps on your feet.” He nods at that, rubbing against me. “Hey Miche? ‘m all yours right now. Don’t forget.”

“Fuckin’ couldn’t.”

I shake when he slides back in with a sighed moan. “Feel how easy that was?” He tries an experimental thrust. “Like that, yeah.”

He puts his forehead to mine, keeping his slow pace. “Shit.”

I want to take over, directed by the close sound of his breath straining around his little grunts, but focus on his eyes and accept. When my my legs start shaking around his waist, I think Damn, I should do this more often.

Miche’s weak voice against my ear asks, “W-where? Can’t-mmph-longer” and sends me hurtling toward breaking.

“Where you are or on me,” I manage to answer before hearing my own loud sob while my body releases, clinging to his closed-mouth whimpering and scratch of his beard against my shoulder.

A mashed-up string of curses before he utters, “It’s-”

“Yeah?” His noises pause as he lifts his head from my shoulder, a string of drool from his chin to my shoulder. “Do it, Miche.”

Staying where he is, he fights to keep his eyes open, mouth offering gratitude between his spasms while I feel his release as though it’s mine before he collapses on me.

We breathe, while the sun shifts to pour more light through the windows. He wipes the sweat on my forehead, and when our eyes focus, I realize my mistake: I’m about to receive a shower of affection.

It comes in the form of probably a hundred actual smooches all over my face, ears, neck, shoulders, tits. I’m a giggling puddle by the time he stops to press my palms against his fuzzy cheeks and say, “You were ready to run outta here yesterday evening.”

The sun’s glow catches in his eyes. “Yeah.”

“How ‘bout now?”

“Couldn’t if I wanted to with you on top of me,” I tease and pinch at the apples of his cheeks. “But I don’t want to.”

*Reference: Bookshops & Bonedust by Travis Baldree

[hideandgopeep]

Book Club?

First, the info:

Who/What: Miche Zacharius (Attack on Titan) x afab f!reader. Word count: 3.8k. NSFW! Reader treats a sweaty, post-training Miche to an evening of getting turned into a whining puddle by mostly touching him, praising him, maybe some slight domming (?), and a lil piv (he finishes elsewhere). A few other Survey Corps members make appearances, and you even get a couple of cheeky run ins with Levi for shits n' giggles.

A/N: Shout out to Flamey (@flametrashira) for the inspiration to write about a whining messy man in the throes of passion. I'm spelling his name "Miche" instead of "Mike" for personal reasons LOL. It's detailed porn with plot, so bring water or an electrolyte drink and a snack. This is my first completed smut, the first piece of completed fan fic I can share, and the third fan fic I've written. Constructive criticism is welcome since I'm so new at writing this (please don't be a butthole). Please, minors DNI. Okay, hope you enjoy!

My squad and I are fucking off after dinner, our chatting lost in the din of the cafeteria. Petra and I are trying to have a conversation, but Oluo insists on peppering in quips. He’s on his third beer, and we know how that goes. I’m newish, moved from the Military Police about a month ago and still meeting members of the Survey Corps all the time. Petra looks up at something above and behind me, and before I turn, I feel someone in my personal space.

“Can I fucking help you?” I growl and turn, a bit surprised to find that rather enormous section commander. He’s usually quiet in the meetings I’ve attended. Petra’s giggling, watching my face, which is blushing for cussing the section commander. He’s watching me from above as I unclench my jaw and blink at him, my anger immediately gone.

“You’re a reader,” he says in a quiet, flat tone. His hair flops over his eyes, which makes it hard to see them until you’re below him like I am, and they’re a match to his smooth voice. Instead of apologizing, I think about what it would be like to push his hair back and tilt his face up while he’s below me.

“H-how can you tell?” He’s still close, and I wrangle my brain to the present.

“Smell like a bookshop.” A corner of his lips lifts with a twitch in his mustache, and he adds, “In a good way.” He holds out his hand, and I take it. “I’m Miche Zacharius.”

I introduce myself and glance at Petra, who’s moved on to talking to Eld on her other side. Miche’s still standing above me, so I turn my body and lift my legs over the bench to fully face him. “You a reader too, Section Commander?” I wait for his answer, and it’s really hard to not slide my eyes all over him. He’d notice, it’d be inappropriate, but I do let my gaze drop to his crossed arms and back up.

“When I find the time, yeah,” he answers. “Hey, nice meeting you, thank Petra for the introduction for me. See ya around.” I watch the way his long, thick legs move as he walks away until I get interrupted by a poke to my back. I lean back to turn, seeing Oluo with a huge shit-eating grin settling in across the table.

“Yeah, I’m a little jealous you ain’t watching me walk away like that, but I get it.” I look for Miche again, but he’s gone. “He’s a lot of man, Scout.”

“Okay, Oluo. What’s he like on the field, though?” I ask, attempting innocent curiosity about him and finish my ale. Wow, my mouth was fuckin’ dry.

“Uh, pretty bad ass, second only to our captain,” Petra answers.

Eld leans forward to add, “Great leader of his squad, takes care of them.”

So, they all saw and heard the interaction. Ugh. At least Gunther’s already gone. Petra and Eld look poised to leave the table.

I check my pocketwatch, and we have just over fifteen minutes until our final squad meeting before the morning ride for a quick mission. We chat for a little longer before heading to the meeting and going about our nights.

The mission does end up being not only quick but uneventful. It’s just our squad with Hange’s, and we camp overnight. It’s early summer, no rain, so we don’t even bother with tents.

We ride back to HQ as soon as we have enough dawn light and arrive just after lunch. I decide to put off relaxing in a bath until after I eat, too fuckin’ hungry from skipping breakfast. Both decisions earn me a couple of comments from my captain. When he sees I’m turning to the cafeteria when we go in the HQ building, Captain Levi flicks my shoulder. “Hey, Scout, at least wash your fuckin’ hands, come on!”

“I will, Captain! Promise to scrub under my nails, too.”

“I know the field rations are as dry as sunbaked turds, but we still need to fuel ourselves. They not teach you that in the MP?”

I click my tongue. “Not much of a need to, we never left.” He groans, and our paths split. I do make a stop to scrub my hands. The rest of my squad does their own thing, but I take my bowl and ale to the table we’re usually at.

Miche’s there with a book on the table in front of him, and I greet him with a smile as I sit beside him. “Hey, Section Commander.”

“Just Miche’s fine. I’d say the same if you were one of mine.”

I hum and take a swig of the cool ale before peering at the book. “You already eat?” I ask, mostly to fill the quiet of the cafeteria. There are just a few stragglers, chatting over empty bowls and mugs.

“Mhm. Brought this for ya to read if you’re interested. Finished it a while ago and still think about it.” He scoots the book closer to me so I can see the cover. It’s wrapped in navy cloth, the title and outline of a saluting hand embossed in silver.

“I wanna ask what about it stuck in your mind but don’t wanna spoil it for myself.” I wipe my fingers on my handkerchief and pick it up to flip through it, catching a few phrases. It’s not a long book, maybe 250 or so pages, and there are some illustrations of plants. I close the book and look up at him. “Thanks, Miche. I’ll check it out and let ya know.”

He responds with a smile and taps his fist on the table a couple of times before standing. “See ya around.”

“Bye.” I pointedly do not watch him leave this time and waste no time starting the book while I finish lunch. The book sucks me in, and I struggle to find a stopping point to go bathe and rest, and stay up late reading more.

The weather the next day is perfect again, and I have no tasks or errands, so I sneak out just after lunch to my coveted quiet reading spot near the river. I get through a lot of the novel, pleasantly surprised because it’s philosophical, loving, healing. My ass gets numb, so I stop and get back to HQ for an early dinner. Can’t help but to start reading again while I wait for the first dinner bell in the nearly empty cafeteria.

Miche interrupts me with a tap on my shoulder. “Damn, almost done already?” I slip the bookmark in and stand up to greet him and a few of his squad members, who wave before lining up next to the kitchen to wait. They’re all sweaty and dirty, Miche especially, and he stands close.

“Hey, yeah, I’m hooked.” I shrug, and I can hear him sniffing me, so I lean toward him and murmur, “What are you doing?”

“You smell like grass, the river, sun.”

I step closer, still leaning toward him, and make it obvious I’m taking a couple of whiffs of him. “Hm, sweat, clay dust, also sunshine, leather, gear oil, and a nice woody scent. Cologne?”

“I’m impressed,” he says and laughs, eyes crinkling at the corners. It’s a smooth, deep laugh, like his voice. “It can’t be pleasant, like you.”

“You’d be surprised.” I admire his eyes from my vantage and move to his mouth. Fuck, I’d almost let him bend me back on one of these tables in front of everyone if it meant I could get a taste. I lick my lips at the phantom taste. “What are you doin’ after dinner?” I brave asking, hoping no one overhears.

He starts, just barely. “Nothin’, why?”

My squad comes in, and Oluo immediately sees us and winks at me. I look up at Miche again. “I could answer with something innocent like discussing the book.”

“Ohh,” he breathes before leaning next to my ear and humming before whispering, “Hmm, then yeah.” My knees shudder with the vibration of his voice. “Your squad’s looking for ya. Meet up after dinner?”

“Mhm.” I savor the heat from his breath against my hair and neck as we part, giddy like an idiot. I’m checked out of what everyone’s talking about while we eat, the book on my lap under a handkerchief so I don’t drop food on it. Miche and I are in each other’s line of sight, so we glance at each other for some signal, which is him jerking his chin. He leaves, and I’m not far behind.

“Book discussion, huh?” he asks, walking to me as I leave the cafeteria. “As long as it’s fine that I’m dirty.”

“Yes, yes. I need a taste.”

His mustache lifts at the sides. “Shit, should’ve just went to one of our rooms if that’s what you have in mind,” he murmurs, cheeks getting pink.

“How about yours?” He nods, and we take the stairs at the front of the building to avoid the dinner traffic and stroll through the halls in heavy silence until we pass my captain and Section Commander Hange. I offer a polite nod and bite my tongue; Levi will bring it up at some point, I fucking know it.

“Oi, Scout.” Miche and I halt our stroll, and I groan and turn. Moblit rushes from the direction we’re heading in, and Hange says, “Hey, see you guys later!” with a massive grin at Levi and takes off with Moblit. Levi’s got his arms crossed by the time I meet his eyes, and he glances Miche over, then me, to the book in my hand, then back to Miche, grimacing at his uniform pants. “Be safe. And Miche, treat her right.” With that, Levi walks away.

“Whoops, we’ve been caught,” I giggle.

“He’d absolutely have my hide if anything happened to you, which nothing bad will.” Miche says this with a matter of fact tone.

“I’m sure he’d have my ass if anything bad happened to you, Miche.” He shrugs.

His quarters aren’t much farther, and he lets me in first. It’s a neat room, lived in but clean with a book collection and small paintings of people I assume are family members. I set my book on his desk and note that his bed is much larger than my own.

“We made the right decision. I’m imagining you on my small bed, half off of it.” He laughs while he removes his boots by the door, and I do the same.

“You adjusting okay since coming to the Survey Corps?”

“The worst and only bad part is horse riding. I didn’t get around to doing much of that in the MP, so it still wipes me out.”

There’s an awkward air to the moment, because we’re just standing and looking at each other, so I place my palms against his chest to guide him back against the door. “About that taste . . .”

“Start here first?” He tilts my chin up with his fingertips and leans down to press his plump lips to mine, mustache brushing my cupid’s bow and nose. Salty, the ale, him. It’s like resting my head on a comfortable, familiar pillow. We savor the kiss, taking our time to feel each other out. I slide my hands from his chest down his stomach and over his sides before squeezing his hips at the window between the gear straps. His wide hands roam across my back before moving to my ass, squeezing me against him. I feel his bulge against my stomach, and he groans into my mouth.

He pulls his mouth from mine and whispers, “Sorry.”

I pinch open the shirt button above his belt and say, “Don’t be sorry for doing that.” He isn’t wearing an undershirt, and I don’t bother pulling out the shirt tail before working the rest of the buttons open. His chest strap keeps the shirt in place, so I swipe the shirt to the sides of his wide chest and brush over his nipples, pulling a gasp from him. His chest and stomach are covered in thick, soft golden hair, and my fingertips dive in, causing his stomach to jerk. He hisses. “Sensitive, aren’t you Miche?” I look up at him to check in. Flushed from his tits up, lids drooping, lower lip puffing out from under his mustache, which I rub with my fingertip. “Look at you, already like this. Fuck, Miche.”

“Please, do,” he pants out and leans down to work his strong fingers around my ass and rubs the fabric of my skirt and underwear against me, and I feel my wetness. Soaked already. “Wanna feel you.”

“In time,” I giggle, mostly at myself, still giddy. “Am I taking the lead?” I ask.

“Mhm, m’all yours.”

I pull the shirt tail from his pants and fist the fabric to tug him to his bed before he melts at the door. “Let’s work on these straps.” He sits on the bed and starts at the buckles on one side. I take the other side, thankful for the breather. We work in silence until the buckles are all released. He frees himself and lets the harness and straps slide off the bed to the floor with a sigh before leaning back with his palms against the bed, grinning at me.

“Next,” I say and pluck at the collar of his open shirt. His grin falters when I slide my skirt off and crawl onto the bed behind him to peel off his shirt.

“Let me just-” I press my nose against the back of his neck to take in his scent and lick the skin, once for exploration and again in seriousness. “Fucking delicious,” I purr against the side of his neck before suckling across the skin of his shoulder. His breath is hitching with each new position of my tongue and lips, and my mouth works back to the side of his neck. “Pants are next.”

He lets his head tilt back, lips parting for another of his soft groans, and I slide off the bed, licking the salt from my lips and hook my fingers behind his belt into the waist of his pants. I tug him forward a little, and he scoots so I can release the belt buckle, button, and fly. “Getting all of you outta these is gonna be a chore. Need your help, Miche, they’re fuckin’ tight.” He lifts his hips so I can tug them off his hips and ass, revealing a cup and strap instead of underwear. I peel his pants off and admire the scene in front of me again while removing my own shirt, and our eyes take each other in.

The cup’s straining to keep him contained, the straps digging in across his hips. I try to slide my finger between the strap and his sticky skin but can’t, and he thrusts into the air below me with a wink. Everything jiggles, and I giggle, tugging the strap in the buckle at his hip. Of course his stomach twitches at my touch, and he laughs through his nose. “You’re ticklish here?”

“H-yeah.”

As soon as there’s enough slack in the buckle, the whole thing flips away in a blink, and he groans with relief. The indentations from the straps are deep, red bordering on purple, and I hold off on studying what was under the cup. “Is this painful?”

“Burns at first.”

“Let’s leave your skin here alone, then.” He hums, still propped on his elbows, legs spread, toes resting against the floor. He watches me study him in the light from his window. Scarred all over, some newer and still deep pink. Gear strap calluses from the friction. Bruises in different stages but no bad new ones. I finally let myself look at his groin. His half hard cock is lying against his left inner thigh, the base ending in dark blond hair, balls resting on the bed. The soft pinkish tan skin swirls to adjust to the air.

He leans onto one arm to bring his other to stroke himself. I brace my hands on his thighs and say, “Don’t, it’s beautiful like this.”

“Y-yeah.” I slide my palms all the way up to frame his groin before running my thumbs up and over his balls and around his base. He heaves a loud exhale, and his cock hardens, lifting to me. I repeat the movement to stimulate his scrotum again and feel his hair then lightly wrap my hands around his shaft and slide up, getting a hiss from him, and let him drop and bounce against the bed.

“Ooo, heavy,” I compliment and straddle his right thigh. He watches me spread my tingling lips to rest against his skin and sits up. His tongue slides over his lower lip, his hands back on me, one palming my ass cheek and the other squeezing up and up my thigh. I let him slip his fingers between me and his thigh while I stroke his length again and again.

“Mmm, my thigh’s soaked,” he breathes, smiling, and circles my clit.

“Miche, we’re getting distracted.”

“Come closer?” he asks. I lean into him until he lifts his thigh to help me. His mouth and tongue are instantly on my tits.

“I’ll let you have your fun,” I say then shift to straddle both of his thighs to squeeze them closer together. He pulls away from my chest to look down between us and he fucking whines when he sees the glistening strings of my arousal stretching from my pussy to his thigh.

“Fuuck,” he breathes to end his whine. “Please, let me tou-” I stop him by doing what I thought of when we were introduced: run my hand over his forehead to push his sweaty hair back from his eyes, and I firmly press him back. He complies, relaxing back with another whine choking off in his throat.

“Shh Miche, patience. If you touch me any more, I will come.” I sit back on his thighs to to see his flushed chest shaking from his breath, eyes trying to be on me from his position.

He lifts his head. “That’s what I wa-hah-want.” I get my hands back on his length and gently squeeze, watching him leak from his hot deep pink tip and press my thumb against his slit and slowly swipe. His cock twitches, and he drops his head back.

“I know that’s what you want, but this is fun. I like listening to how my hands make you feel.”

“You’re barely h-hanging on to-OO.” I repeat my thumb swirl while he’s whining and watch his mustache and lips pout around his last word before he pulls in a sharp breath through his teeth.

I take a firmer grip on him, tilting my hips up to rub his tip against my clit, and his abs clench like he’s gonna sit up, but he stops. “You’re doing so good, Miche, keeping your ass on the bed.” Pressing his cock up against his stomach, I slide along the underside and coat him. I feel his thighs move as his feet seek purchase on the floor, bedframe, anything, but his legs go limp with a renewed whine when I rock against his thick shaft, trying to go slow and finding my own breath getting wild. This has him gripping at the bed as his hips shudder.

“Please, just-hah!”

I catch his head in my entrance. “You’d slide right in,” I breathe and slowly fuck just his head. This unravels something in him, because he starts shivering all over, his tits vibrating from clutching the blanket, thighs fluttering and my pussy spasms around his head from just seeing and hearing him. “You feel that, Miche?”

“Hm-hah, just-” he works out around a moan, eyes going wide, mustache moving with his breath.

“I can’t take anymore, can I-” I sink onto him just a bit.

“Y-yes. Fuck, yesss, please.”

We groan together at the sensation of me taking him, groan at the relief. “Still shivering. Can you hold on ‘til I come?”

“‘Ll try,” he slurs.

“Gonna take you out when yours hits so lemme know, okay?”

He finds a moment of strength to put his hands behind his head, and he nods. “I will . . . c’n I watch you?”

I’m at the breaking point and can’t answer with anything other than my head nodding in time with my rhythm. His mouth a perfect O beneath his mustache, tears or sweat around his glazed eyes, brows scrunched together, but it’s his fucking whimpering that sends me over the edge.

“Shit,” he groans and starts muttering, clearly barely hanging on. “H-hey, it’s-uh, I’m go-” I slide off of his cock, settle back onto his thigh, and work his shaft, thumb to his glans. He sucks in a deep breath, holds it for a moment, and lets go with a strong, high pitched whine that changes to throaty whimpering haahs and ahs as his balls and cock spasm to release his come. The first reaches his chest, and the rest spills hot over my hand.

“Breathe, MIche, you did so good,” I praise him as he breathes down his chest, eyes locked on mine, and I gently release him.

He tries to say something but swallows to try again. “Thank you. Fuck, thank you.”

“You have a towel?” He points me to a dresser and flops back to breathe while I wipe my hands then his chest, stomach, and groin. I grasp his ankles and lift his heavy legs. “Here, get fully on the bed so you can be comfy and rest.” I kiss his forehead, eyelids, and chin. “You did great. I’m getting dressed and will be back with water and probably food.” He starts to move. “Rest, Miche, don’t get up. I’ll be back, and I’m gonna finish that book.”

“You gonna let me do this for you next?”

“Maybe.”

I think I luck out by avoiding running into anyone I know on the way to the kitchen, but my captain catches me in the same damn hall as before on the way back to Miche’s room. He’s smiling without exactly smiling, it’s in his eyes. “You take good care of Miche, Scout?”

“Hope so,” I say, laughing at his comment. It’s probably innapropriate, but it’s Levi.

His lips twitch. “Sounded like it.”

“Stone walls here aren’t as soundproof as I thought, huh?” He lifts his chin, one side of his mouth smiling. We stare at each other for a beat.

“Bye, Captain.”

Miche’s breathing deeply when I get back, so I chug some water and snack on the bread and cheese at his desk while finishing the book, surprised that someone in the Survey Corps would enjoy something that touching.

[hideandgopeep]

[hideandgopeep]

Beefers, do you have by Erwin+miche bromance hcs

Anonnn, I'm finally able to share some! I love the idea of them being a little dorky (I mean this in the best way), so:

Erwin is quite thoughtful, but his follow-through can be lacking when he gets busy. He’ll still belatedly get the gift , though! Miche knows and expects it, and it truly doesn’t bother him.

Miche is thoughtful too but in a very silly way: getting nearly-matching corny-ass shirts*, taking Erwin to an arcade, remembering how Erwin fucking loves popcorn and finding a blanket with a popcorn print.

They do projects together and rarely need to ask each other for help. It’ll be, “I’m stripping and re-sealing the cabinets next week,” and the other shows up ready to get to work.

They go on hiking trips: yearly two-week long hikes plus frequent hiking weekends.

They’ve known each other so long and will engage in PDA. Miche leans on and against Erwin, and Erwin has a habit of putting his arm around Miche and just leaving it there to mindlessly pat/rub his back.

Miche drinks after Erwin.

Erwin gossips to Miche, who pretends to listen (he’s actually listening because he makes funny comments and jokes later on purely for Erwin’s entertainment).

Library dates. That’s literally what they call it. They meet up most Saturday mornings at one or the other’s place for coffee and breakfast and go to the library. Sometimes to a nearby farmer’s market in the spring, summer, and fall.

*I saw some awesome fanart of them in Hawaiian shirts and cannot find the post!

[hideandgopeep]

Do you have any hcs if Miche’s lover was asexual?

Hey Anon! Thank you for asking about this (sending you a digital hug if you accept those). I'm somewhere on the ace spectrum and obviously self-ship with Miche, but we aces are so varied! I kept these focused around his lover's sexuality and based them on my broader relationship HCs (like that he's a kind and loving partner🥰). Fellow aces are welcome to add/suggest!

Statistically, Miche’s lover was likely made to feel “broken” or “wrong” for being asexual in the past (potentially even in a romantic relationship). He’s not going to do that to them, full stop.

He fell for them as they are and chose to love them. There’s no “regardless of them being asexual” nonsense either. It’s simply part of what makes his person his person. Also, he isn’t “sticking around in case they change” and wouldn’t even think about wanting to change them.

He knows there are infinite ways to share love with his person and doesn’t need to engage in those activities to be fulfilled in a relationship with the person he chose.

This applies if they’re sex-repulsed, favorable, or neutral/ambivalent and if his person has a micro-label. If they so wish, he’s open to exploring with his partner and encourages them to on their own.

Some aces don’t realize it until they’re well into a relationship. His hope is for them to talk to him about it. He’s supportive and accepting, so he’ll research on his own and ask them questions out of a place of love and curiosity. To him, it’s a chance to get to know them better and an opportunity to deepen the relationship.

Miche is tender-hearted and gentle. If he and his person have been together sexually before their realization, he’s going to worry. Like, he’ll be sick over it, because he never wants to hurt his lover or make them uncomfortable (he gets overly cautious with everything anyway). So, he’s going to gently ask if they’re okay and if they want to talk about it. If they were uncomfortable, Miche doesn’t expect his person to manage his feelings about their answer and knows that it’s his responsibility.

[hideandgopeep]

what made you like miche so much even though he got very little screen time

Anon and anyone reading this, please prepare. I mean, look at this wall of text. *inhales for 27 seconds*

First of all, I squealed over your ask, Anon. 😍

We could boil it down to basically liking the idea of his character, right, since we get so little info about him. And I could say "big tiddie honorary dilf" to be a silly 🪿 as I am wont to do, but that's not it.

Miche grew on me, and when characters do that, they tend to stick. These reasons are based on the anime since that's how it began.

To start with, the scene where he sniffs Eren? Unsettling, like da fuq is this dude doing? Ew?

Then we see him meeting with Erwin and asking about his plans, and Erwin says, "Your nose is as sharp as ever. Not bad." The way they were with each other in this added scene showed me that Miche is one of Erwin's go-to people and could be trusted, even though I wasn't entirely sold on Erwin until my second watch (haha true story).

Miche’s sense of smell comes in clutch in the Female Titan Arc, and I realized oh okay, so this guy basically catalogs scents in a way, like a cat or something? Interesting. I liked that quirk, because I have a really good nose and do the same (it's a neat party trick and super useful), although mine isn't superhuman.

Then this motherfucker goes “Only when a person stops fighting do they lose. As long as we continue to fight, we are not beaten!” line, shows off his ODM skills like holy fuckin shit this guy is badass.

Of course, you know I'm lookin' at the way he's drawn with his pretty, big nose and pretty eyes. Now, idgaf about the size and shape of the rest of his body, that was whatever to me (this is absolutely no shade towards those who like him for his build, because I sooooo get it 😏). I'm just a total sucker for strong noses and/or pretty eyes.

He choses to take on a gaggle of what, 9 titans, alone, including the Beast?! The fuckin' massive steel balls on this man.

Anyway, in the brief time we had him, I saw that he's intelligent, highly skilled, brave, generous, kind, and his death scene fully humanized him. Erwin and especially Hange and Levi still thought about him, years later in Hange’s and Levi's case.

And then he chooses to take on a gaggle of titans, alone, including the Beast?!

I've seen it theorized and believe that his sacrifice was extremely important. Had he not distracted Zeke and those poor villager-titans, Zeke could have caught up to Reiner and Bertholdt, and the situation could have really gone to shit.

Thank you for coming to my ted talk.

[hideandgopeep]

i hc that erwin never learned how to ride a bike so bought him one so he could teach him

I'm adding this to my hcs too, it is precious. Would Erwin use training wheels? I hope so for his safety!

[hideandgopeep]

Imagine Miche being your tattoo artist

Hey, I woke up at like 3am yesterday with this idea. It's FLUFF, but we can dream at the end.

You picked an artist who's been at it for a couple of years because his style suits the piece you're wanting. Simple, right? You reached out via text to the number on his social media contact info to set up a consult appointment and ended up just doing everything by text. EASY!

And then you walk into the small, private shop to be greeted with, “Hey, I’m Miche.” You're a little put off (understatement) and thinking oh this big guy's gonna fuckin' hurt me. Thing is, he smiles after his greeting. With his eyes crinkling like that at the corners? His mustache doing whatever that is? Yeah, you feel bad for your initial reaction (swoon).

“Lemme show ya the final design again just in case we need to make some tweaks.”

Goddamn, his voice is something, and you gotta keep yanking your eyes from his neck. “It’s perfect.” Soon enough, you’re stenciled and approve the placement on your calf.

You get on the chair, and he leans you back so you can get comfortable, even hands you a bolster for your head. He’s silent while he sets up the ink cups, water, paper towels, and preps the machine, which looks almost comically small in his hand. This isn’t your first or even seventh tattoo, and you’re a little nervous maybe? It’s just that, like, damn this man is nice to look at, and you really wanna hear his voice again, and he’s gonna be touching you for at least an hour.

Before he gets started, he asks, "Whatcha usually listen to?"

"Um, metal."

He hands you his phone with the music app open to play something of your choice. “You ready?”

You just nod, hit play, and he starts when the music does. You let your mind get lost while he works, and he checks in with you often. The entire album (1 hour and 26 minutes) wraps up before he's done.

"Why'd you pick that album? Not that I didn't enjoy it. It sounds sad, like loss, mourning."

“It is, it’s definitely one of those intentional albums. They lost a friend and poured their grief into the lyrics and notes.”

“The day has come to face the storm as lightning strikes me in two. We live the dream onward, as it were, endless days we'll carry on as one. There's no doubt of what we're here to do, you laid it out: a promise of yourself. That shit hurts.”

"Exactly," you say, that familiar raw sting of a nearly-finished tattoo forgotten. “How’d you get into this?”

“Gnarly leg injury, dunno if you noticed the limp.” (You did.) “Happened at my old job, got chewed up by, uh, machinery at work. Anyway, I spent a lot of time on a bed then a couch. Started doodling like I did as a kid, passing the time, and found something in it. I have a buddy with a shop who asked if I could do some flash sheets, ‘for fun.’ Then he offered an apprenticeship, and here we are.”

----

The second time you go to Miche, it's for a rather large piece that will take two sessions. Your chest piece, the Doors of Durin. Obviously you were thinking about seeing him again too, and you get an even bigger smile when he greets you. “Oh right, the music nerd,” he says when you come in. “Nah, I’m kidding, I remembered you of course.”

“Mhm.” You get a small thrill as his fingers brush your chest skin while he preps you for the stencil. Perfect placement. Seriously, this man's neck just draws you in.

Again, he hands you his phone to pick the music. "We'll be going well after just one album, so keep it to pick the next." He looks to you with his eyebrows raised. "Assuming you're going for whole albums again."

“True, true.”

He leans over you from the side to start, his wrists and forearms hovering above your chest, and he goes, "Hm?"

“Go for it.”

“Get comfortable first with my arms here,” he murmurs as he places the weight on you.

“That’s good, ‘m ready.” You start the album and let him get to work.

After half of the album, he asks, “So, no vocals on this one. Got any band lore?”

“You know I do, but talking, chest piece, you get it.”

He nods. Every time he stops to check in, you melt with the way his voice sounds (and feels) this close and give him the lore he asked for.

“The lead is in a handful of other bands.” “One of those bands is a fave, and another musician from it is on another fave.” Blah, blah, blah. And he listens, and you keep playing the 40-some minute albums.

Being this close to him gives you ample opportunity to let your eyes (nearly shamelessly) roam. You watch his face get super sweaty, dark blond hair sticking to his forehead. He still smells great though, like fresh laundry, maybe a basic soapy scent.

The next time he pauses to check on you, you ask, “Can I get a paper towel?” He tears a fresh one from the roll behind him, and you mop his forehead. That gets the cutest chuckle from him, holy shit, and he blushes on top of it. Who the fuck is this guy? “Hey, I can’t have my artist blinded by sweat. The chest piece is literally front and center!”

“Do it as you see fit,” he grins and hands you more towels. “Maybe lemme get the needle away first.” And you do, you keep his face dry and drip-free for the next hour or so, getting a little thanks every time you blot him.

He pauses. "We’re just about done with the linework. I can go ahead and start details and shading today if you want . . .”

“Oooh, wish I could, but you know how it is.” While you’ve been fighting feeling a bit pervy, the needle has left you feeling a bit too raw.

“Gotcha.” He works for another few moments and stops to ask, “So, what's your type?"

“Haha, metal, remember?”

His soft pretty green eyes flick up to your face, and he licks his lips. “I mean, uh, type of people.”

You have to laugh at yourself. "Oh, people are pretty, sure, but my type is someone I get interested in.”

He watches you like he’s expecting you to go on, eyes still locked on yours, and you’re feeling a bit embarrassed, especially because he’s still leaning on your bare chest. So he swallows and asks, "Whatcha mean?"

"Like if we connect after meeting, if they're funny or something. There's some kind of spark that'll pull me in."

"Ah, I think I understand." He looks back to your skin, eyes tracing the permanent lines he’s decorated you with, and goes, "You not gonna ask me?"

"Okay, I’ll bite. You got a type?"

He soaks a towel in that blessedly cool and soothing cleanser and delicately wipes your skin. You gasp like a damn fool. "I'm like you, gravitate toward people who are comfortable with themselves. Especially if they start nerding out over something they like." You’re watch each other like it’s some kind of dance, knowing what the next move is but letting the anticipation linger for effect.

He breaks the spell. “What exactly am I tattooing on your chest? What're the Doors of Durin?”

“You ever read or see the Lord of the Rings trilogy?”

“Read it ages ago, never sat down and watched it.”

“Let’s fix that.”

----

The next morning, he knocks on your door, and you get to use the "Speak, friend, and enter" line, adding, “Hope the extended editions are fine.”

[hideandgopeep]

In a Modern AU, I can see Miche owning a smoke shop.

I'm embarrassed I wasn’t following you already and have rectified that!

Yup, I can see it. Miche liked the rich, complex scent of tobacco (not so much smoking it regularly though) and figured he'd open a shop. After he's established, he enjoys finding interesting glass and wooden pieces for his shop in addition to the basic tools his customers need. Then, he gets approved for the medical side of it after making some connections with local growers over the past couple of years and seeing how beneficial the herb can be (it certainly helps him out).

Miche's favorite part of running the shop is helping his customers find what they need. A lot are lost and anxious when they come in the first time, unsure about where to start, and Miche's amazing at figuring it out. So, so patient and kind. Plus, his mind holds a catalog of what he carries, even down to the terpene percentages.

Another thing he loves about his shop? Using his skilled sniffer to come up with detailed descriptions for the strains. Except, he's not the best with flowery words, so he has you help him out. He'll put his nose to work and just say what he's picking up:

"Underripe orange peel." Sniff. "Freshly ground pink pepper." Sniff. "Bananas that were dried in an oven, not a dehydrator." Sniff. "Roses? Interesting." Sniff . . .

And you take notes to craft a sweet little blurb later while watching his eyes get all sparkly from doing something he loves.

[hideandgopeep]

What is the well worn goofy patterned Patagonia in question? Does it have pot leaves 🍃

😆 that would be hilarious! It's like this:

[hideandgopeep]

Do you think Miche would prefer the beach or the mountains

I wanna see him in three inch seam swim trunks

Where's he gonna keep his meat and 2 veg?! 🤭 (swim trunks with a good inner layer). These trunks are what, a 9" inseam? but we can dream!

I feel like while he loves the mountains, he slightly prefers the beach. Fresh ocean air, constant soothing roar of the waves perfect for a nap.

[hideandgopeep]

if you were in a bridergton with General! Miche , where would you want your first time to be with him.

in a bed like Daphne and Simon?

outside under that roof things (idk what it's called LMAO) like Kate and Anthony?

on a sofa like Colin and Penelope?

or maybe somewhere else?

Please please please let it be in one of our extensive libraries. idgaf if it's on the floor by the fireplace, a reading couch, up against a bookcase knocking books off the shelf; just let me be with him surrounded by books 🤤

[hideandgopeep]

One of the pictures Miche has in his spank bank is you on your knees, with your tits covered in his cum

But then when you press and hold it’s a live video of him spitting in your mouth

Mmmm hm, this toasts my fuckin' marshmallows, Anon. It butters my biscuits. Really gets the blood flowing. ykwim?

He's lifting my chin with his forefinger, thumb resting on my bottom lip, and somehow I managed to keep my eyes on the camera lens instead of his eyes when he gave it to me like I asked.

Oh, drooly Miche.