#older Eren x younger Mikasa | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

seeingivy · 1 year

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christmas kiss

eren jaeger x f!reader

in which you attend your fake boyfriend, eren’s, family christmas party

content: fluff, fake dating, little sister gabi, annoying older brother zeke, dead dad :0, drinking, eren calls you bunny unironically

You stand on the porch nervously, balancing the bowl of tiramisu in your hands. Breathe in and breathe out. You can do this. You’ve done it before and you can do it again.

You set the bowl on the side ledge, reaching down to readjust and fix your sister, Gabi’s, hair.

She had been jumping up and down in excitement since you invited her to come along, which led to her dress riding up and her hair sticking out of her braids.

At this moment, you realize this was probably the wrong outfit choice for her. You knew she could barely sit still for an hour at a time - you’d likely be fixing this outfit throughout the night. You readjust the collar, pushing her flyaways securely behind her ears.

The two of you had gone out to buy new outfits for the dinner, feeling the need to have you and Gabi looking your absolute best. You had gotten Gabi a simple black dress and braided her usually unruly hair back into two pigtail french braids. You’d even let her borrow some of your lipgloss for the occasion. You had opted for a deep red dress and chose to free your hair from the usual ponytail you sported.

“Are you nervous to meet Eren’s parents?”

You feel your fingers shaking as you tuck in her collar and her hair, which you’re sure was the dead giveaway. Are you nervous to meet Eren’s parents? Of course you are.

Eren Jaeger is your boyfriend. Your fake boyfriend, but that’s just semantics. What they don’t know can’t hurt them. He’s a full time Computer Science student, an intern at Fritz Technetics, and a straight menace on the soccer field. He’s been playing first string since your first semester of college.

For the past month and a half, the two of you had been parading around, going on fake-dates, and planting kisses on each other's cheeks whenever you were in the vicinity of Jean and Mikasa. They were the reason you started fake dating in the first place.

Jean Kirschtein. Your best friend. Who you were hopelessly in love with. On the first day of your General Chemistry lecture, you sat next to Jean, who had seemingly forgotten his entire backpack for his first class of the day. He turned to you, a nervous look plastered on his place, begging for a pencil. Safe to say, you had been in love with him since then.

Mikasa Ackerman. She grew up with Eren, the two of them inseparable since they were younger. He thought that they had an unspoken agreement, that they were the only ones for each other. But she never truly reciprocated his feelings, which was made aware to him when she started dating Jean at the beginning of the quarter. He was heartbroken.

This led to you and Eren making a deal. You remember his green eyes staring into yours, convincing you to do it. Jealousy will have them running back. People want what they can’t have.

You and Eren shook on it, in the dead of night. You hate to say it, but it had actually been working, in the slightest of ways. You had definitely confused Jean, who suddenly became all too possessive of you, and Mikasa was all too intrigued to hear about the new girl Eren was seeing.

This dinner? The cherry on top. Every Christmas Eve, Eren’s parents invite a few of their close friends to dinner at their house. Mikasa’s family is always on the guest list. By extension, that means Jean would be here too, being her boyfriend and all. In lieu of that, Eren invited you and Gabi to attend, promising you that it was about to be the show of a lifetime.

But how do you tell your fake boyfriend you can’t come to his parents Christmas Eve dinner because you’re getting real feelings for him? You can’t. So you don’t. And you show up anyways, with a bowl of tiramisu, an overly eager little sister, and a stomach full of knots.

“A little bit, Gabs. Best behavior okay?”

She nods, using her hands to brush your flyaways behind your ears. You smile at the gesture and stand up to grab the bowl again. Your hands shake as you ring the doorbell, it chiming against the door.

A tall, blonde man opens the door. He’s wearing silver, circular glasses, and sporting a full grown beard on his face. At the sight of you, a grin spreads over his face.

“She’s here!” he screams in a sing-song voice, his voice echoing towards the kitchen, where a large amount of sound suddenly broke out. He pulls you and Gabi in from the cold, smiling brightly at the two of you.

“I’m Zeke. Eren’s brother.”

Eren had given you a brief rundown of everyone who would be in attendance at his dinner and had warned you about his half-brother. Apparently, Zeke loved to tease Eren, hence his excitement at your presence. You extend your free hand to him, returning his smile.

“Hi Zeke. I’m Y/N and this is my little sister Gabi.”

“No need to introduce yourself. We’d know who you were a mile away, Y/N.”

Zeke swiftly takes the bowl of tiramisu from your hands and bends down to Gabi’s height.

“I’ve got the perfect friend for you. Follow me. Eren’s in the kitchen with Carla, Y/N. Just through the hallway there.” he says, as he drags Gabi - and the bowl - away with him.

There goes your conversation starter for Eren’s mom. You take a few deep breaths, before slowly padding into the kitchen. Carla and Eren have their backs turned, too engrossed in their conversation and the dinner they were dishing out into platters.

You lightly knock on the wall next to you to signal your presence. Eren turns around first, a big smile spreading across his face at the sight of you. That smile would be the death of you.

He walks over to you, crushing you in a hug. His smell envelops you, his heart beating against your ear, his embrace warm.

“Hi bunny. I like your hair. Get in okay?”

You nod, giving him a weak smile. You ignore the pounding at your heart from the nickname and the fact that he noticed you changed your hair.

Eren’s mom pushes past him, it being her turn to crush you in a hug. She holds onto you for longer, her hand moving up and forth on your back.You make eye contact with Eren, who is trying his best to hide the smile on his face. She breaks apart, still holding you in her arms and smiling at you.

“I’m Carla, Y/N. I can’t tell you how nice it is to meet you. You’re absolutely beautiful.”

You can feel your face getting flushed, your cheeks a bright pink. You step back a little bit, nervous from their matching eyes boring into yours. Eren leans over, slinging his arm around his mom.

“Stop being weird, Ma. I told you she gets shy. You’re going to scare her away.”

You ignore Eren, squeezing her fingers that are still interlocked with yours.

“It’s so nice to meet you too, Mrs. Yeager. I brought a bowl of tiramisu but I’m not exactly sure where it went. Zeke took it from me when he let me in.”

Your brief response causes Eren and Carla to start talking over each other.

“What did that bloody monkey say to you-”

“Oh my goodness, you’re too sweet…”

“Did he say anything weird to you? I’ll kill him. And where’s Gabi?”

“And call me Carla. I’d love to hear all about you and Eren-”

You laugh at the two of them, the two of them stopping in their tracks. They both give each other a knowing look, before leading you into the kitchen. You have a feeling they do this all the time.

“Eren tells me you and your sister are really good at making gingerbread houses. I was hoping you guys would join our competition later.”

“We’d love to!”

Eren walks over, a few packaged items in his hands.

“Want to help me set up?”

You nod, the two of you setting the ingredients down and getting to work.

Carla smiles, not before giving the two of you another hug, and tuts away to the other side of the kitchen to finish dinner. You can feel your heart tingling and your hands shaking as you lay out the gingerbread cookies, the interaction you just had with Eren’s mom replaying in your mind.

“What’cha thinking, bunny? You’re shaking.”

You had mentioned to Eren that the holidays were an emotional time for you and Gabi. This time last year, your father had passed away in a car accident. Your families were very close, your parents being the best picture of co-parenting to exist, and the two of you took it pretty hard. You had been living with Gabi and her family since then.

“Your mom is so nice, Eren. For inviting us and telling me I look pretty and hugging me like that.”

He leans against the counter, looking over at you.

“Uh huh. She was super excited to have you come. Really.”

You smile. You crack open the box of chocolates, the two of you working in silence. Eren stays for a few minutes, your fingers brushing against each other, before attending to the door for the rest of the guests that were filing in.

He had been tasked with handing out the champagne to everyone as they got here. Well really, Zeke was supposed to do it but he was apparently too busy playing Mario Kart with Gabi and Falco.

You know some of the people coming based on the list Eren had told you beforehand, which eases the knots in your stomach a little bit. Eren’s family, obviously, was made up of his parents, Grisha and Carla, and his half-brother Zeke who you met earlier. His dad was going to be late from getting stuck with the night shift.

He had a cousin in town, Falco, who Eren said was likely with Gabi right now since they were the same age. The rest of his family had gone out of town and were unable to take him, hence his presence here.

Mikasa and her parents would be here as well, Jean being her plus one. The last people in attendance would be Armin and his parents. You had met Armin a few times, since he was Eren’s roommate and all.

As you set out the ingredients, Carla praised you for how wonderful they all looked. I mean, all you did was set out the cookies on a tray but she just couldn’t help it. Eren put his hand on Carla’s shoulders, dragging her away from you all while scolding her about how she was embarrassing him.

The fourteen of you settled around the Yeager’s grand dining table, you being nestled in between Gabi and Eren. You were right across from Jean, Mikasa, and Armin, who were all chatting amongst themselves.

Gabi had become good friends with Eren’s cousin, Falco. The two of them were currently playing a game that was lost to you entirely. You nudge Eren, signaling your head towards the two of them. He looks over and then returns your smile, getting the message you were hinting at.

The two of them had their fingers interlocked and were engaged in an all too serious staring contest. When you asked them why they had to hold hands to have a staring contest, they were too quick to let go, the tops of their ears pink.

Can she even like Falco if Eren is your boyfriend? Is that some weird incest thing? Well, Gabi is only your half-sister and Falco is really Zeke’s cousin and Zeke is only Eren’s half-brother.

And Eren isn’t your real boyfriend, so it doesn’t matter.

“You look beautiful, Y/N.”

You look up, totally caught off guard by Jean’s comment. Your eyes meet his, his gaze hazy and his cheeks a bright pink. You can tell he had a little too much to drink earlier, when Eren was handing out the champagne.

Instead of being flattered by the comment, your heart pounding in your chest, all you can do is turn to Eren, who has a very angry look plastered on his face. You reach for his hand under the table and squeeze twice, which seems to ease some of the annoyance off of him.

“Say, I like your dress too, little L/N.” says Jean, turning over to Gabi.

“My last name isn’t L/N. It’s Braun.”

“Oh, I thought you were sisters.”

“We are sisters.” you reply, a mere whisper breaking the silence. He doesn’t hear you, the confused look still on his face.

You can feel the pitcher you grabbed shaking in your hands, threatening to spill all over the table. The room was suddenly too hot, leaving you feeling like you were a fly under a lamp. Gabi’s your half-sister. You live with her because your dad died. Your dad is dead.

You’d actually spill the water on the table if it weren’t for Eren. He wordlessly took it from you, pouring it into your glass and placing it in your hand, which he made sure was steadied before letting go.

“Gabi is her half-sister. Y/N lives with them.”

The conversation you’re having is cut off by the sound of Carla, clinking her fork against the end of her glass. You all crane your heads towards her at the end of the table, as she glances over at all of you.

“It’s time to say grace. Whose turn is it?”

“Zeke.”

“No Dad, it’s Eren.”

“No, it’s Zeke. I said grace last year about how thankful I was that you were moving out for your remember.”

The four of them silence, turning their necks towards Zeke to say grace. He glares daggers at Eren, before joining hands with those around him. You look over at Gabi, interlocking your fingers with hers before doing the same with Eren. His hand is warm, his thumb rubbing circles against the back of your hand.

Your hands are shaking for some reason, your blood rushing too fast as it all happens. The room was warm, your dress was burning your skin, the quiet was too loud. You feel Eren squeeze your hand twice before shaking your head. You were okay. You just needed a second.

You flutter your eyes closed as Zeke starts saying grace.

“This year, forgive me for taking simple joys for granted. I’m thankful for parents who seeked me out and supported me, even if I wasn’t entirely their own, a brother who begrudgingly supported me like no other, and a family I’ve dreamed of keeping. What a blessing to be included at a table like this.”

Everyone releases their hands, their eyes fluttering open. You watch Mikasa and Jean’s eyes widen at the sight of you, feeling Eren and Gabi’s hands clasp in yours once again.

“Y/N, what’s wrong?”

You look over, Eren’s green eyes filled with concern. It’s only when you reach up to touch your face that you feel the tears on your cheeks. You were crying. Zeke said grace and you literally started crying. You stand up, excusing yourself from the table as you tell them all to continue on without you.

You shut the door behind you, leaning against the white door. Your tears are still running and you thank that you decided to keep your makeup light tonight.

In all honesty, it was just too overwhelming. Jean and Mikasa. Falco holding hands with Gabi and Zeke saying grace and thanking his parents and Eren’s hand in yours.

Eren. You couldn't be really falling for him could you? That crooked smile, big doe eyes, and that long brown hair. You couldn’t. You liked Jean. He liked Mikasa. And that was that. This was all fake.

So why did it feel too real all of a sudden?

As if you summoned him just by thinking about him, you can hear his knuckles knocking against the door, begging you to let him in.

“It’s open, ‘Ren.”

You hear him twist the lock, his eyes pinching at the sight of you sitting on the floor. He sits next to you, lacing his arm through yours. You let your head drop onto his shoulder, the tears falling out even more.

The two of you sit in silence, Eren’s head resting against yours. You can feel him fingers in your hair, the sensation soothing the pounding in your head.

“I’m sorry, Eren.”

“What for, bunny?” he’s whispering, his lips ghosting over the top of your hair.

“Crying. Getting up from the table. Embarrassing you in front of your mom and Mikasa.”

He freezes, his hold in your hair tightening.

“You don’t have to be sorry for any of those things. And nothing you do could embarrass me, especially to my mom. I’m sure if you flipped the table upside down and she would just praise you for how strong you were.”

You laugh, readjusting your head against his shoulder. He’s a little less tense, his hand hovering around to the side of your waist before he pulls you closer.

“Eren.”

“Yes, Y/N?”

“I miss my dad.” you whisper.

At the sound of your words, he pulls you directly into his chest, nearly crushing you with his arms. His weight is heavy, but you can feel the pressure lightening in your chest. Eren’s warm. He smells good, he’s soft, and he/s warm. The two of you stay like that for a while, Eren’s arms around you.

“Feel better?”

You look up at him, giving him a smile through your teary eyes. You see his face visibly lighten at the sight of it. God, those eyes really were going to be the death of you.

“It feels…lighter, Eren. Thank you.”

The two of you stand up, reaching forward to fix each other’s clothes. Eren’s tie had been loosened, which you reached to fix. Your hair was all unkempt and your cheeks were still wet, which Eren fixed with his nimble fingers.

Eren brushes the last of the wetness of your cheeks but still holds your face in his hands. He looks down at you, your heart bursting in your chest. He’s breathing hard, his face so close you can feel it on your cheeks. He leans forward and his eyes flutter shut. You swear he’s about to kiss you. He’s going to kiss you for real. No Jean. No Mikasa. Just you and him.

The door slams open, Zeke standing at the door. You and him and Zeke. At the sight of you two, Eren’s hands still holding your face, your lips inches away from each other, you see a smirk grow across Zeke’s face.

“Can’t keep your hands off your bunny, can you?”

“I’ll make you regret the day you were born, Zeke.”

“Just wanted to check base, see if you guys were okay. Carla’s fretting over you as we speak Y/N. Clearly you’re doing just fine.”

You feel yourself pale at the thought, pushing past the two of them to re-enter the dining room. You can hear Eren and Zeke following, their whispers (yelling) right behind you.

“Dude, fuck you.”

“What, Eren?”

“You fucking cockblocked me.”

You smile at the words. So Eren did want to kiss you.

“She’s your girlfriend. You’re acting like you’ve never kissed gerbefore.”

“Fuck you. What if I really wanted to right then? You owe me, you goddamn monkey.”

The three of you settle back into the dining table, which you’re happy to see is still loud. Your absence didn’t cause too much of a damper, which was all but a relief to you.

Eren tucks you back into your chair and Gabi leans over and presses a soft kiss to your cheek. You don’t miss the non-discrete thumbs up Gabi and Eren give each other.

You turn to him, narrowing your eyes at him.

“What was that about?”

“Nothing. She was going to come after you, after you got up. Told her the boyfriends got it this time.”

You roll your eyes, trying your hardest not to smile at his words.

After dinner, Grisha - Eren’s dad - pulls out the camera to take pictures of each family. Apparently this is a tradition for the party, as they like to collect and frame the pictures along the years.

Armin goes first, his parents sweetly wrapping their arms around their only son. Mikasa’s family goes next, with Jean in tow, the four of them standing in a line with small smiles on all of their faces.

You walk forward, with Gabi’s hand in yours, to take a picture of just the two of you. You’re excited at the fact that the two of you would get a nice, professional looking picture together since you were all dressed up.

“Did you guys want one alone too?” asks Carla, running her fingers through the ends of her own hair, patting it down.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did you not want us to take a picture?”

She smiles, pinching the sides of your cheeks.

“Of course I wanted you to take a picture! I just figured you would take it with our family!”

You pause, turning your head to Eren. You can’t take a picture with Eren and his family.

Was it bad that you...wanted to be in their picture? The five of them bore their eyes into yours, waiting for your response.

“Okay, yeah. Let’s do it.”

The five of them cheer, pulling you in front of the tree. Grisha and Carla sit in the middle, Gabi and Falco at their sides. You stand towards the back, Zeke on your left and Eren on your right. Eren slings his hands around your waist, his face a few inches from yours.

As Armin clicks the picture, you feel Zeke’s arm leave your shoulder, suddenly hanging above you. You and Eren look up at the same time, to find Zeke holding a bundle of mistletoe above the two of you.

You look over at Eren, who stares at you. He whispers, his hands locking with yours.

“Do you want to kiss me, bunny?”

Somehow, the question feels more serious than what it is. He’s simply asking you if you’re up to kissing him in front of his parents, a deal you made when you guys made your contract for fake-dating. Always ask for consent, even in public.

But it feels more serious than that, genuinely. His hands are shaking against yours, his eyes expectantly waiting for your response. LIke he’s waiting to jump, waiting for your call.

If he jumps, you’ll jump too.

“Yes.”

You see him smile, bigger than you ever had before, his hands circling around your waist as he presses his lips to yours. The kiss is warm and soft, a hint of the hot cocoa he drank earlier still ghosting on his plush lips. The two of you break apart, smiling at each other.

“You’re welcome, Eren.” deadpans Zeke, dropping the mistletoe and leaving the two of you by the tree.

You turn back to Eren, giving him a confused look.

“He owed me a favor. Cashed it in just now.”

Before you can respond, Carla and Grisha shove their arms around you, tears almost spilling out of Carla’s eyes.

“Oh I’m going to print this picture for your wedding.”

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liquorisce · 5 months

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Do you have any eremika age gap au recs?? It’s my favorite trope and there’s nearly not enough fics out there😭😭😭

*rubs hands* I took my time with this because I am not the most avid fic reader unfortunately, but I do have a few recs and some more on my tbr. I think what you're looking for is not just an age difference but where the age gap is the focus? i've marked those in pink. definitely check the tags on these before proceeding!!

gonna start with mine just for completeness, and also because i love it *blush*

boy next door: For sixteen years, Mikasa has watched the boy next door. First: through the eyes of a child, hand in his during family trips, his hand on her first bike when she learned how to ride. Then: through the eyes of a teenager, peeking behind her blinds into his room on hot summer months when he didn't wear a shirt, eyes lingering on his lips when he pulled away his cigarette. Now, she is so much older, but he is older still, and the gap between them feels ever widening. But her desire to close it only feels more desperate.

i'm certain you've checked out @herblacktights 's ao3, but here are my favs of hers with that age gap sauce:

degausser: After a deadly flu pandemic that devastates Paradis Island and the rest of the world, Eren is all Mikasa has. After she turns sixteen, that gets complicated. -> the plot is entirely the age gap, lol!

comfort me: “Mikasa,” Eren drawled, fake scolding edging into his voice as he held the basement door open and led her outside. “Does Aunt Carla know what a bad girl you are?” For a moment, she looked stunned. A sliver of a second, a wink of an eye. Looking every inch the little girl he watched grow up, who he knew deserved better than him. But before it could take root in her and make him regret what he said, Mikasa gave him a terrible, sweet smile. “Aunt Carla says I deserve to do whatever I want after the year I’ve had,” she said and from the way that she was looking at him, he should’ve known it was a threat. cw: mild daddy kink!

love dog : this one is a bit different! teacher mikasa x student eren, and mikasa is the older one. cw: it doesn't exactly have a super happy ending. but it is one of my favs from hannah!!

Butterfly effect by @sunlightandsuffering : Sugar baby AU - older hobo eren x younger mikasa. how can i say this... it's the OG, the most delicious, lys-brand chaotic eremika but age gap flavour! i love it, i'm sure if you've been around this block you've read it lol, but it's simply amazing, read it again!!

You, me and our sins by @loneghostss : Eren is married and Mikasa has a boyfriend. But the fact that they both have someone doesn't stop them from sinfully falling in love with each other. (it is about eremika having an affair with each other and it is so sensual and hot, age gap is not central here but it definitely brings heat!!) you could also check out lost saints by the same author, there's also some age difference and great smut.

@dead-dolphins is a connoisseur of the age gap trope, defs check out all the aus on her pinned post!! ro is a master of drama and worldbuilding so her fics are always a treat. she's got some on ao3 that are all about that sweet age gap <3

chemical hype boy : idol mikasa x actor eren!! and eren is definitely playing into the older established actor mold!

i apologise if you feel something: Goth mikasa gets involved with older Eren, lead vocalist of a metal band.

the promised princess: a medieval fantasy au inspired by got. age difference is not the central theme, but it's a stellar fic regardless.

straight/edge by @sinigangsta-ao3: Mikasa Ackerman is prim, proper, and perfect. As the golden child of the Ackerman family, her academic achievements set her up for a bright future and atone for her older brother’s past mistakes. When the spring semester of her junior year arrives, she crosses paths with a local boy toward whom she’d typically never give the time of day — and they begin a whirlwind relationship that unlocks parts of herself that she didn’t know she kept hidden. this fic is more about the good girl x bad boy trope but with that delicious 3-4 year age gap sauce!! cw: NOT a hea

devilish lovers by softwinter: “I wanna be your friend, Mikasa,” he told her one day when she got home from school not able to feign a less distressed expression on her face, too many sixteen-year-old problems going on in her life. He had the habit of commenting that she was always sad, that he didn’t like how that transpired on her gray eyes.

“I thought you wanted to be my daddy,” something flashed in his eyes right then, like she’d said something forbidden, a kind of thing that could make her a bad girl in his eyes. cw: step dad kink!! definitely check the tags before proceeding.

heaven knows by @joannaofarkham: priest au where priest eren is mikasa's teacher in a catholic school. it is unfinished but the first chapter reads pretty well standalone!

eternally yours by @cxcassii: reincarnation au + age gap. It's been 2,000 years since Eren Jaeger was a titan shifter and unleashed the blood drenched madness of the rumbling upon the world. Now, in the year 2023, he's a twenty-four year old who lives with his best friend Armin. He goes about his days working as a pharmacy technician all while attempting to cope and come to terms with the loss of the loved ones he still remembers with clarity from his previous life. The atrocious sins of his past life he can never ever truly atone for. But most of all, there's one person he simply can't forget: His former love of his life, Mikasa. It's when he's not actively searching for her that they cross paths once again, and their love will once again be on trial when Eren learns that Mikasa not only doesn't remember their past life together, but is also seventeen years old. this one is still on my tbr but whatever i've read so far looks extremely delicious!!!

enjoy!! if anyone wants to add more please feel free to reblog and improve this list!! <3

#eremika #fanfic rec #age gap trope

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s1ckh1mb0 · 2 months

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Stars works p2

Art talk

Art talk p2- plus headcanons

being chronically online

advice for new writers

info about the sandy hook killer

porn addiction is rotting your brains

Aizen x reader

yandere ben x yandere reader

gundam tanaka with his kid

alucard x feminine reader

Alucard with his sweetheart reader

nanami x gojo sibling

drunk sex with nanami

being gojos older sibling

SukuGo! X male reader

Adopting yuji with nanami

Choso x gothic reader

Gojo can’t keep his eyes off you

Sukuna and Uruame meeting their darling

kakuzu meeting his fav stripper for the first time

orochimaru and his little family

reiner loves them bigger(smut)

throat training with Rei

being reiners pretty doll (smut)

jeans type

eren loves his geek (smut)

Eren loves his geek lover!

kpop idol! x rapper! ony

Levi comforting his lover

Meeting mitski lover! Armin

Telling Levi you’re pregnant

Being onys bf

Mikasa x reader

dio and his breeding kink

risotto x tattoo artist! reader

Giorno x parent! Reader

single daddy! zoro x reader

Gun store owner! Zoro x hyper feminine! Reader

Superheroes-

Bruce Wayne x reader

Deadpool x male reader

Logan in heat

P2- Logan x reader smut

Logan with a younger bf

Deadpool x reader

Logan x reader

Logan and his lover w/ a oral fixation

None of the pics on mine all found on google except the first one- found it on Pintrest @/smstarss

#spotify #fanfic #x character #x reader #x black reader #x black plus size reader #x black male reader #x male reader #smut #aot x reader #jjk x reader #hellsing x reader #discussion #jjba x reader #creepypasta x reader #danganronpa x reader #naruto x reader #one piece x reader

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simpinghour · 1 year

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Cake and Pears at 2am Hange x fem! reader

Summary: What is meant to be a casual night out to hang with Mikasa and friends leads you to meeting the very dapper, very suave even though they sometimes remind you of a golden retriever, Hange.

This was meant to be a mafia AU and there are light mentions of it but that's not the focus. Here you'll read about a fem!reader who is 14 years younger than a nonbinary Hange but doesnt let that stop her from dating them.

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Nonbinary Hange, gothkasa, Strap on sex, loss of virginity with strap on, this is smutty as hell and I have no regrets, side Eruri, Side Eremika, Squirting, Oral Sex, Fingering, also side Mikenana, Yelena needs her ass kicked, age gap, but not a creepy age gap I promise, I had to do so much research about strap ons for this damn fic

Ao3 link

Chapter 1

First you didn’t feel like going out. Then Mikasa wheedled until you gave in, and you asked what you should wear.

“Anything is fine. Wear your regular clothes.”

And that was how you ended up wearing an ankle length black linen dress, feeling completely out of place when turning up at Mikasa’s cousin’s bar.

The plan was to have a quick drink to start off the evening. How you ended up drinking by yourself was a mystery, but you suspected it was likely due to Mikasa getting in a quickie with her boyfriend and losing track of time.

I hope the dick is good because I’m going to kill you and Eren when you get here, you quickly texted Mikasa while trying to ignore the drunken man to your right doing the most to get your attention.

“Either drink this and stop harassing our guests or get the fuck out. Your choice,” you hear someone say.

You look up to find a guy with short dark hair and an undercut who eerily resembles Mikasa pushing a glass of water across the bar top while glaring at the man bothering you. A quick glance at the man shows that he looks as though he’d been scared sober, because he takes the water and scuttles in the other direction without another word.

“Tch. Asshole,” the guy says in disgust before he flicks a dishcloth at a spot of moisture on the bar. “You okay?” he asks.

“I’m good, thanks. I would be great if my friend Mikasa didn’t have me here waiting like an idiot.”

He scoffs again. “So you’re friends with my cousin. No doubt she’s glued to that idiot boyfriend of hers.”

“I’m guessing you don’t care much for Eren,” you reply, biting back a laugh.

“Hmm,” he grunts. “She could do better, but I guess she could also do worse.”

He doesn’t offer further commentary and moves to the other end of the bar. You go back to fiddling with your phone and sipping on your drink.

Ten minutes later you get hit on again, this time by a tall blonde who is admittedly attractive but too damn pushy for your tastes.

“Don’t be like that,” she says, reaching down to wrap long, rough fingers around your wrist.

The last thing you want to do is cause a scene; not only is this a club for members only, but everyone here is at least fifteen years older than you. On top of that, Mikasa vaguely mentioned something about her cousin’s bar being a mafia hang out, but she didn’t answer or give more details when you outright asked if her cousin was in the mafia.

As you think back to the way the guy harassing you earlier looked like he was going to wet himself when the dark-haired guy glared at him, you think the answer is yes.

“Yelena, leave the young lady alone before I have Levi ban your ass,” a raspy voice interrupts in a way that seems light yet has a casually threatening undertone.

The woman named Yelena takes her hand off you and you peer around her to find the owner of the voice.

You were aware that you were likely gawking, but you hadn’t expected to see a lithe brunet dressed in a three-piece suit that clung to them like a second skin. Their hair was sort of long but had been pulled up in a partial ponytail, and a few strands framing square-rimmed glasses and a pair of warm brown eyes were the second things you saw. The unamused expression on their face was the next.

“You and I both know why you’re acting like this,” they continue, staring unblinkingly at Yelena.

You know this person came to your defense, but you can’t help feeling intimidated. Then Yelena sighs dramatically and backs up a few steps.

“No harm done, Hange. It was just a bit of fun.”

“Bit of fun, my ass. You’re only here because we like Onyankopon. Now move along.”

Yelena stares hard while slinking away and the person called Hange leans against the bar to peer down at you.

“Sorry about that,” they apologize while sticking out a hand. “Hange Zoe. I don’t think I’ve seen you here before.”

“This is my first time,” you explain after giving your name and shaking their hand. “I’m supposed to be meeting some friends here but they’re extremely late.”

“Oh? Anyone I know?”

“Mikasa and her dumb boyfriend Eren. And I think our friend Armin if he’s not glued to his computer.”

“Ohh, you’re Mikasa’s friend. Levi told us some of you would be stopping by tonight.” Hange turned to look across the room and pointed to a table. “Wanna join us while you wait?”

You peer over to see a man with shaggy blond hair sitting there, engaged in conversation with another man who had neatly styled brighter blond hair as well as a stunning blonde woman with a short haircut that fits her face perfectly. Levi, who you learn is in fact Mikasa’s cousin when pointed out by Hange, is in the middle of sliding into the booth with the two men and a lady. They all seem equal parts classy but intimidating, and it immediately sets you on edge. They’re nothing like anyone you’ve been around before and you’re in fear of making some serious social faux pas.

“I don’t want to intrude,” you protest.

“You aren’t. Besides, it’ll piss off the blonde who just got grabby with you.”

“Okay, only if you don’t mind,” you agree, picking up your glass. “Who was that, an ex of yours?”

A wry look cross Hange’s face as they lead you across the bar.

“You could say that. Say, what is that you’re drinking? It looks tasty.”

“It’s called a Red Devil. Not everyone knows how to make it but this guy with brown hair knew what I was talking about. He made it perfectly too; some people use too much gin and it tastes disgusting like that.”

“If he had on a blue shirt that’s Moblit and yup, he makes the best drinks.”

When you and Hange reach the table they introduce you to everyone. Nanaba is friendly and Miche is polite but doesn’t seem like a big talker, although Erwin and Levi have plenty to say. Hange orders you another drink without you asking and you sit on the outside of the booth, sipping on your second Red Devil while wondering how the hell you ended up at the table of Mikasa’s cousin and his friends.

You guesstimate that the jacket alone to their suits is equal to the price of a month’s rent. And you don’t know much about watches, but you definitely know what a Rolex is and every person at the table except you is wearing one. Correction, Miche and Nanaba have on his and her Patek Philipe watches.

Eventually someone else equally well-dressed joins the table, the tall man with brown hair named Moblit who happens to be the person that made your drink.

“Are you and Hange going to drink one another under the table tonight?” Levi asks, and Hange grins broadly.

“No,” they laugh. “But now that I think about it, I could use a snack. Are there any olives in the back?”

“Yes, for the cocktails,” Levi hisses, looking scandalized as though Hange suggested snacking on earthworms.

“Actually, I bought a large bag of mixed olives because I know you like them,” Erwin interjects, ignoring the way Levi glares at him.

“I thought I was the only one who ate olives on their own,” you murmur, and Hange’s face lights up.

“I guess you’ll share with me, right? Hold on, I’ll be right back.”

“Hange, don’t you break my damn bar!” Levi yells over the booth as Hange hurries in the direction of a closed door. “And bring something to put them in!”

You’re wondering why Hange needs to be told to bring something for the olives, and bite back a laugh at the image of them eating olives right off the tabletop. Soon they return, arms laden with a small stack of bowls and the olives.

Erwin hadn’t been lying; the bag of mixed olives he bought was enormous. It easily rivaled the size of a food container one would find at a food co-op. Hange tries to cut it open with a pocketknife but with speed-lightning deftness, Levi reaches over and snatches it out their grasp.

“I’ve got it, before the whole fucking thing ends up all over the floor,” he grumbles, pulling out his own pocketknife from somewhere and neatly slitting open the bag.

“You are so weird,” Miche says, watching Hange pour a generous portion of olives into two paper bowls. They stab a toothpick into a green olive atop both mounds and push a bowl in your direction.

“See, Miche? I told you I wasn’t the only one who ate olives like this,” Hange tells him, brandishing a toothpick with a black olive on the end before popping it in their mouth.

The entire situation is laughable. The idea that the stunning human in a bespoke suit has the personality of a golden retriever yet can clearly switch to that of a guard dog with a killer bite is unfathomable. Either way, you’re having a good time and don’t think the night can get any stranger. But you’re soon proven wrong.

Miche excuses himself and as he crosses you to get out the booth, he pauses and loudly sniffs your hair. Hange explains that it’s a thing he does and he means no harm, but then he says your hair smells good. Nanaba says she noticed the same thing too, and then everyone else says they also agreed.

Everyone starts throwing out names of expensive parfums that would probably take you a month or more to save for if you wanted a bottle. You tell everyone that it’s not perfume you’re wearing, they’re smelling the hair oil you used on your ends. That prompts a conversation about your tight curls and you’re explaining that your hair tends to get dry and needs extra moisture when Mikasa finally shows up. Eren is behind her, trying to pretend that he isn’t hiding from Levi and failing miserably. Armin is also there and he’s smiling nervously. Mikasa looks confused when she sees you sitting with her cousin and his friends, but her expression barely gives away anything.

“Hey brat, why’d you make your friend wait all this time?” Levi asks her.

“Eren and I lost track of time,” Mikasa offers dismissively, sniffing as she looks away.

“Tch. I bet,” Levi scoffs, narrowing his eyes and the increasingly nervous Eren. Armin also looks anxious, but mostly because he likely feels like a third wheel knowing what his two best friends were doing that caused them to be late.

“I don’t want to keep you from your friends,” Hange tells you with a smile. “Thanks for keeping me company.”

You really don’t want to leave but know it would be rude to not join Mikasa and the others. So you thank Hange and everyone else and reluctantly leave their table.

You’re oddly quiet while sitting with your friends, yet they’re too busy quarrelling over something to notice. When you cast a surreptitious glance over at Hange, they’re laughing loudly at something while slapping Miche’s shoulder. You feel a stab of envy, wishing you were the one to make them laugh when they suddenly turn in your direction and wink at you. Before you can react, they’ve turned back to their friends and you’re left wondering if you imagined everything.

Eren and Armin go to fetch drinks and when they return, Armin hands you another Red Devil and a glass of water. You notice that everyone also has water along with their drink and Eren asks Mikasa why her cousin made him also take water. The answer comes in the form of Mikasa shooting Levi a nasty glare across the bar and he returns her look with an eerily similar one.

“He hates sloppy drunks,” Mikasa explains. “This is his way of telling us to have fun but not too much fun. I watched him make someone mop up their own puke before throwing them out on more than one occasion.”

“Your cousin is scary,” Armin says, warily eyeing his cocktail as though unsure if he should drink it.

You finish your Red Devil a little too fast and become the teeniest bit tipsy—okay, you’re drunk—and decide to wobble outside, in desperate need of fresh air. Just as you take a deep breath and close your eyes, you hear the door open and someone else walks outside.

“Needed a breather?” Hange asks with an unlit cigar held between their teeth. They reach into their pocket to pull out a box of wooden matches and some other metal tubular object on a ring. “It’s a hole punch for cigars,” they explain when they see you staring. “It gives a better flavor as you smoke opposed to completely cutting off the tip.”

“Yeah, I got a little hot in there,” you reply. “So are cigars good? I’ve never tried one.”

“The right cigar is very good,” Hange explains, taking the cigar from their mouth and punching a hole into the end. They put it back into their mouth and strike a match and you’re captivated by their long fingers cupping the flame while bringing it up to their cigar. A few twirls between two fingers ensures that its lit evenly and Hange takes a few pulls and exhales a grey cloud into the cool night air. “Darker cigars—maduro they’re called— have a smoother taste. A lot of people think the lighter ones do but those tend to be harsh on the throat.”

You’re really drunk and wonder if you’ll remember this impromptu lesson on cigars, but mostly you’re enthralled with watching Hange smoke while looking like the picture of ease in their vest, the other hand in their trouser pocket.

“Would you like to try it?” they ask suddenly, and you realize they’re smiling while holding it out to you.

“You don’t mind?”

“Nah,” they reply, nudging their hand again in your direction. “Go on. Don’t suck too hard though, it’ll taste awful if you do.”

You feel awkward as you take the cigar and try to ignore the sensation of Hange’s fingers brushing against yours. Without their jacket on you catch a whiff of their cologne; something sweet yet musky with a hint of wood and vanilla. It mingles perfectly with the cigar smoke and the aroma leaves you light-headed.

Okay, girl, you really need to calm down, you tell yourself, lifting the cigar to your lips.

Normally you’d be disgusted by the idea of putting your mouth on something that was just in the mouth of someone you barely knew, but you aren’t for some reason. The tip of the cigar is damp and you brush way the intrusive thought that this is an indirect kiss, but you take a soft pull as directed and are shocked to find that it indeed tastes good.

“Nice, right?” Hange asks when they see your eyebrows raised in surprise.

“It is, actually,” you admit, handing the cigar back to them. “It’s sort of chocolatey but earthy? Makes me think of a nice latte.”

“Yes! Some people do have cigars with coffee, as well as chocolate and some teas.”

“That sounds nice.”

“It is. If you ever want a recommendation, I’d be happy to help.”

Just as you’re about to say yes, the door opens and Mikasa sticks out her head.

“Oh, here you are,” she says. “Sasha just texted me to see if we wanted to meet up with her and Jean at the diner.”

“Did any of you drive here?” Hange asks.

Mikasa shakes her head. “We took an Uber.”

“Me too,” you chime in.

“All right. If you need help getting home let one of us know.”

The rest of the night is uneventful and boring compared to how it started. Mikasa had her limit of alcohol and used Eren’s shoulder as a pillow for an impromptu nap. Armin’s face is flushed and he keeps complaining that he’s hot and his hair is annoying him. You dig two satin scrunchies out your purse and put his hair into two tiny pigtails and he is visibly relieved. Armin keeps his pigtails in and when Mikasa finally wakes up, she asks Eren if she’s seeing things while staring at Armin.

“I got hot,” Armin replies without further explanation.

“And on that note, I think it’s time to go,” you tell your friends. “I’m going to say goodnight to Hange and your cousin and his friends,” you add, looking at Mikasa who is laying back on Eren’s shoulder. She nods and remains silent, clearly not giving a shit.

“We’re going to leave now but I wanted to thank you,” you tell Hange, who is sitting in the booth with Moblit. “Did everyone else leave?”

“Nanaba and Miche did, and Erwin and Levi are probably making sure things are tidied up before they close. You said you all came in an Uber, right?”

“Yeah, I’m going to order one in a minute.”

Hange reaches into their vest pocket and pulls out their phone. They tap at the screen a few times and then hand it to you. “Just put in wherever you want to go.”

You see that they’re booking an Uber pool for you in an SUV which you know costs a grip.

“I’ll pay you back,” you tell Hange, and they wave dismissively.

“No need. The only thing you need to do is make sure you all get home safely.”

Hange waits outside with you all and you’re disappointed when the driver arrives faster than you anticipated.

“It was really nice meeting you,” they tell you, taking your hand and stroking the top with their thumb. That small touch leaves you speechless and you want to say more but Mikasa is yelling for you to get in the damn truck.

“You too,” you tell Hange, flashing them a smile before getting in the truck and shutting the door. You watch their retreating figure out the window until you’re out of sight, and then you feel immense regret at not asking for their phone number.

Shit.

“You like Hange, don’t you?” Mikasa asks a week later when you two are having a girl’s night at her place, although her sentence sounds more like a statement.

“What makes you think that?” you ask, wondering how the hell you’ve been caught.

Mikasa shrugs, leaning in close to a mirror and relining her lower lids with a smudgy black eyeliner pencil. “It was obvious that night. Well, obvious to me that is.”

“How the hell could anything be obvious to you? You were two hours late!”

“I only needed ten minutes at most to figure out that you like Hange,” Mikasa continues, now working on the other eye. “You wouldn’t stop looking at them.”

“Well, they’re good-looking. So they are non-binary, right? I didn’t want to be rude and ask since I’d just met them but that’s the impression I got from listening to everyone else speak.”

“Yeah, they are.”

“Cool. There was a woman named Yelena there too. She’s Hange’s ex?”

“She is, that bitch. They broke up a few months ago because Yelena’s a conniving, manipulative asshole. Levi didn’t like her from the start. Although it’s not as if he likes many people from the start.”

“He’s probably good at sniffing out bullshit,” you tell Mikasa, thinking back to her stern-faced cousin.

“He is and it’s annoying at times. He’s rarely wrong though, not that I’d admit it to him. Anyway, should I ask Levi for Hange’s number so you can text them?”

“No! I can’t do that.”

Now Mikasa is lining her lips in black, and you see her eyeing you through the mirror.

“Why not?” she asked, leaning closer to perfect the sharp lines at her cupid’s bow.

“Because I… I don’t know.”

Mikasa sighs and turns around to face you. “Listen, I know you’ve always been too shy to flirt with someone who wasn’t a man, and I get it. Men are simple as shit and think a girl likes them if she blinks in his direction. But Hange isn’t some big bad wolf who’s going to attack you. You two can meet for coffee or something casual.”

You know that Mikasa is right, and there’s a stretch of silence before you speak again.

“Fine. Text your cousin. But if Hange isn’t interested, do me a favor and please don’t tell me.”

“You got it, you dramatic weirdo. Honestly, you’re weird and Hange is weirder. You two should get on like a house on fire.”

“That’s an awful analogy, Mikasa,” you groan, flopping over onto your other side. “Can you do my makeup when you’re done?”

The corner of Mikasa’s lip lifts slightly and you know your tactic to distract her was fruitful. For some reason, Mikasa loves putting eyeliner on all her friends. Eren fussed that it made his eyes itch, but Armin allowed Mikasa to do whatever she wanted. You also didn’t mind; you found that someone else doing your makeup was relaxing, and sometimes you fell asleep and let Mikasa do whatever she wanted.

“You’re actually going to let me do your entire face?”

“I’ll do whatever you want me to do, Yoda.”

“Ugh, like I said—weirdo.”

“Yeah, but you love me.”

“Sure. Now be quiet while I clean your skin.”

You’re lying flat on Mikasa’s bed while she swipes a cotton pad soaked with micellar water across your cheek when you speak again. “So what else do you know about Hange?”

“They’re older than us but you know that already. I think they’re forty? Something like that; I only remember because I know Levi is a few years older.”

“Wow, I figured they were a few years older than us. I didn’t think there was a fourteen-year difference.”

“Yeah. They’re also smart as hell. Two doctorates I think and run a lab. Also an adjunct professor if I remember correctly.”

“Well now I’m a little intimidated,” you admit quietly.

“I don’t know why. This is the same Hange who blew up hard-boiled eggs in the microwave at Levi and Erwin’s house because they forgot that you can’t microwave eggs.”

“Okay, that’s actually funny.”

“It is, but the runt didn’t think so. He cursed out Hange, made them scrub it twice and cursed them out some more when they didn’t clean it to his standards.”

You think back to Levi fussing about Hange spilling olive brine all over his bar and fight back a laugh.

“I had a good time with Hange and their friends until you and Eren came. They’re really funny.”

“Yeah, they’re cool. I’ve known most of them since I was a kid.”

Mikasa is now working on your eyeliner so you stay quiet so she can concentrate.

“Let’s go outside when I’m finished your makeup,” she says, using a short eyeshadow brush to buff out the pencil liner. “I need to smoke and I also got that wine you like.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” you reply with a tiny grin.

Twenty minutes later, you and Mikasa are out on her balcony that’s been decked in orange lights that were meant for Halloween but are year-round decorations for her. Mikasa brought out her phone and speaker and a darkwave mix is playing in the background while you two puff on cloves and sip wine.

“I texted Levi for Hange’s number, by the way,” Mikasa says casually, blowing a puff of smoke out into the night air. “No doubt he’s wrapped around uncle Erwin right now so his phone is probably turned off.”

“Shit, thanks Mikasa. Now I’m going to be a nervous wreck all night.”

“I have something stronger than cloves if you want. There’s edibles and gummies; pick your poison.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, thanks.”

165 notes · View notes

karasurasu · 2 years

Text

College!AU

Emo-Gamer-Bf Eren Yeager x reader

My first time writing something like that eh, hope it's doesn't that bad... ( English is not my first language, there can be much of mistakes!)

• At first glance, it may seem that he is the bad boy, but in fact he is the most gentle boy in the world, just hug him someone already ಥ‿ಥ

• His hair is always disheveled, even though he wears an elastic band on his arm that you gave him, he rarely uses it, only in the rarest cases, but if you offer to braid his hair so that they do not interfere with him, he will immediately agree to it.

• He asked you to paint his nails. Now they are always covered with black varnish, but in some places this varnish is chewed off by him because of nerves or simply erased

• He has a couple of "emo" tattoos. Cobwebs on the elbow, barbed wire on the wrist, crosses and fire on the fingers.

• He likes all sorts of alt attributes, like an inverted cross on his neck or a skull ring. He also wears large T-shirts with some prints of his favorite music groups or provocative inscriptions.

• In fact, he loves sports, this guy has a pretty good physique (° ʖ °). He's on the college basketball team.

• He lives in a family with Carla and Mikasa. His mother doesn't particularly approve of his appearance, as does the appearance of Mikasa (who dresses like a goth). But as a loving mother, she accepted them like this.

• Eren is the partner who loves physical contact, he will hug you while playing, or lie on your lap, he doesn't care what kind of contact, he just wants to feel your warmth, knowing that you are next to him.

• He's a pretty popular guy in college, so you can't avoid glances from others , they're all jealous, but don't be afraid, Eren is always there to distract you from this.

• The same type of guy who will say that you don't look good in some clothes, and then tell you to wear this more often ...

• He has an older brother Zeke who really loves you and often brings you gifts (Eren is very jealous and afraid that he is trying to take you away from him), but Zeke just very happy that Eren has such a caring partner like you.

• The younger Yeager often cries in his sleep because of the nightmares that haunt him. He wakes up in a sweat and sees you, then hugs you and asks you never to leave him.

• Eren has a lot of game equipment. Nintendo on which he plays animal crossing (shhh, it's a secret, he's shy to say that he plays it!). PS5, a gaming computer. He's been through a lot of games, most of all he likes something adventure, but lately he's only been playing Overwatch or League of Legends with friends, he doesn't have time for anything else.

• He really loves you, and shows it by allowing you to play online games on his computer, it doesn't matter to him if you lower him so in the rating, he just enjoys how passionate you are about the games that he likes

• You can just say what you like and he will tell you which game to play. But he will also listen to you and even play the games you play, just so that you are on the same wavelength.

• The most terrible thing that will happen in your relationship is that Jean and Connie will call him to play Dota 2 in the middle of the night ... God, you will wake up from fright when he throws the mouse against the wall out of anger...(⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠)

i am imagine him like this so...yeah(⁠・⁠_⁠・⁠;⁠)

#eren yaegar #headcanon #aot imagines #attack on titan #gamer bf #emo bf #eren au #college au #eren x reader

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bunnys-babies · 3 years

Text

Them as Parents

AOT x gn!reader

warning(s): none! And there’s no mentions of child’s looks, childbearing process, etc. it’s more so focused on how they’d be as a parent themselves :) this way anyone can enjoy if that makes sense!

a/n: when I say I was jumping up & down as soon as I got this request, I LOVE imagining them as parents or any character for that matter 😩😩 ty for the request and I hope you enjoy!! ALSO tell me why bestie @plutowrites came out with some dad smau too!! they’re so cute check them out here hehehe <333

pt. 2

characters: eren, jean, connie, levi, hange, mikasa, sasha, annie, bertholdt, reiner, & zeke

Eren

You know that parent that kinda plays too hard with their kids sometimes? Yeah. Just yeah. He has chipped a tooth helping them climb a tree once, it sucked but made for a very cute picture and has served to be the sweetest little memory for your guys’ kiddo.

When they’re younger he is obsessed with playing with them in their fantasy worlds and going along with their bizarre storylines, and he will most definitely be dressing up along with them. And I’m talking going out to the grocery store with his child in their pirate costume and he’s got that tiny little fairy dress still shoved on over his shirt because this way, he can get stuff done and his baby’s having fun.

He’s just a total dork and has no shame in indulging in his child’s interests and letting loose and being goofy with his kids. Alternatively this does mean he’ll be that parent that comes with the poster boards with your child’s name in stickers and covered in glitter glue at any event your child will be at. Dirty looks from other parents when he shouts for his kid do not bother him, and neither do the glares from his poor baby. Just a happy, passionate lil dad :,)

PS - will also aggressively wrestle your children.

Jean

I love him but he’s such a worry wart no matter if it’s your first or third kid LOL. He has a simple tote bag he’s carried around with him since you two had your kid and it stays on AT ALL TIMES. It’s stocked full of things like bandaids, diapers, unscented lotion, sensory toys, little activities for them in the car, a history of their allergies and medical records, snacks, drinks, that shits gotta be so heavy I swear. And this bag doesn’t leave when your kid gets older either. The items just slowly get replaced with more age appropriate things.

If your kid gets periods, of course he’s gonna be stocked up on supplies. They like to be physically active? A sport? Skateboarding? You name it, he’s got wraps and guards and bandages for anything. He’s obsessed with being prepared. However, as worrisome as he can be your kid would never guess it. The last thing he wants to do is make your kid anxious!! He totally gives off a calm and caring vibe and it isn’t until they’re older, most likely their late teens, that you tease Jean about how worried he always is about them that they learn the truth hehe. He also totally has a picture of the family in his wallet, he’s that guy <3.

Also also, trips to grandmas are his favorite cause there is something so special about seeing his kid and his mom eat cookies together :,,((((.

Connie

Surprisingly so good at discipline. He has a knack for making everything seem fun, which helps them learn self-discipline, routines, and rules; but he’s also very good at reinforcing only appropriate behaviors and replacing “bad” ones with better options.

Bedtime? Oh, you mean dancing with daddy to the bathroom and brushing your teeth together before getting into snuggly clothes and having him tuck you in cause you’re his “little caterpillar”, right right. Clean up time? No, no, it’s actually called seeing who can put the toys away fastest and the winner gets hugs and tickles. Interestingly enough, your kid always manages to win. And as they get older, he slowly fades and fades the dependency on “fun-time” to get things done until they’re doing it themselves.

He definitely does get emotional here and there as they get older once they no longer need his help getting to bed, and it wouldn’t surprise you to walk in on him taking a little nap in their beds if they’re out late or something cause you know, he’s a big ol sap really. And when your kid finally moves out (much to his dismay, saying it’s financially better for them to just stay! They don’t have to pay a single bill, nothing!) he definitely gets a little lap dog to fill the hole. He’ll be okay though I promise <3

Levi

Literally takes everything in him not to spoil your babies I swear. He thought he’d have no problem, but then they’re looking up at him with those big sweet eyes and he just wants to make them happy cause if he was a good dad would he actually ever say no cause then they’d cry and- yeah. He’s immediately looking at you from the side and hoping and praying you’ll step in to help him say no. Once they get older though, all his resolve has washed away. It takes them promptly two “please”s before he’s sighing and bargaining with them.

Thankfully his kid knows how much of a stickler he is and is very very grateful, even gives him a big squeeze as he grumbles. Your kid also goes to him for everything. Not only is he invested in the gossip, but he’s very good at consoling them through everything.

Their first break-up destroys him though. He finds them crying in their room and just brings them a little bowl of fruit and lays with them as they cry and talk, and probably end up falling asleep. And that night, he definitely is torn up talking to you about it and is getting emotional himself because seeing his little baby be sad like that breaks his heart! And don’t get him started on their wedding day. You know the cliche stone cold dad that goes viral on whatever app cause they’re actually crying, yeah need I say more?

Hange

Don’t ask me how, but they have your guys’ kid cooking with them at the age of like three. It’s probably because they’re very good at involving them in whatever they’re doing that the kiddo is interested in, which in this case was cooking. But seriously, they have endless patience and love any opportunity to do something together rather than alone, especially if it’s you or your kid!

This definitely leads to your kid having so much random knowledge and great listening skills, while also being able to talk your ear off if you let them. However, they can get a little too invested in your child’s schoolwork.

There’s been one too many times where you’ve caught them red handed in their office around 2 in the morning, adding the “final touches” to your kids solar system diorama. This also leads to finding both of them in the garage at another ungodly hour doing who knows what when they both have work and school in the morning. Do they enable each other? Oh yes, but do they love each other? Even more <3.

Mikasa

She is so scared at first, she’s not even entirely sure what specifically is scaring her, but she knows she is. It isn’t until your kid calls her “ma” for the first time that she feels like she can do this. Something about the way they looked up at her and were all smiles and giggles and chubby cheeks told her that there was an endless love between them and they were gonna do this together.

She’s very much attached to the hip with the kiddo! Her favorite is going on walks together, all the way from when they’re in a stroller to when they’re home visiting and just wanna take a brisk walk and talk. Your guys’ kid was also obsessed with dangling from mikasa’s upper arm with their feet in the air and seeing how long they could hold on. They did this up until they were about 12 I swear, one of her biggest motivators to stay fit for real LOL.

Her lock screen also changes monthly with new pics of the three of you together or just your baby :(.

Sasha

PTA mom but like a really cute one. She just loves being involved in your kids life and what a better way to do that then be in the PTA! Always the go to chaperone for any field trip and all the kids want to be in her group cause she’s so fun. One time though on the bus ride back from a field trip some other kid managed to sit next to her and your baby was glaring the whole time, making it clear she was their mom.

Her favorite little outing to do with your kid was going to the zoo for the longest time, just to hear your baby try to say all the animal names and make the noises and get so close, too. Your baby had an obsession with the aquarium for a short while so Sasha even went the extra mile to have an aquatic themed birthday party and made little “fins” (hats) for all the kids to wear, and a starfish cake :(((. That’s one thing about Sasha as a parent, she will always go the extra mile and above and beyond to make your kid happy. Even if that means no sleep so she can prep for a 5 year olds birthday party.

And when your child finally moved out, she gave them a chest full of little memorabilia she kept for them as they grew. Along with a journal she wrote in as they grew up just talking about all the happy times she had with them and her favorite memories; there’s even a little love story about how she met you in there and her tips for your baby to find true love, too <3.

Annie

She’s definitely an extremely devoted parent. It doesn’t matter how busy she is, she will always set aside time to be with your kids. If she were ever unable to attend something with your kid, she’d definitely beat herself up over it and do any alternative she could to remind them how important they are to her, even if they aren’t personally upset about it. She’s very adamant on your child understanding their worth and that they are special as they are, and that they deserve to be loved and appreciated.

She’s definitely one of the parents who will be so so accepting of her kids s/o but will constantly be deciding to herself if they truly deserve them, they’re her baby so of course she’s protective :(. Also the type of mama to need to know everything about the friend and their house before she lets her kid go over and hang out LOL. Sometimes it’s a friend she’s met before too and she’ll be like hmm… I don’t remember but I believe you.

She’s also done a very good job at creating an “open door policy” about any topic her kid wants to talk to her about. Questions about school, sex, relationships, math, all of it.

All in all, definitely on the stricter side but loves a WHOLE lot.

Bertholdt

I don’t know a better word to describe him other than invested, like seriously. He’s invested in the process, the practice, the everything! Every one of your child’s interests he is sure to learn about so he can talk about it with them and even ask them questions! He’s so good at making them happy and excited about their own interests I swear to god. He makes sure to remember their classes and friends names, any kind of after school activity or outing on the weekends. Any show, game, etc. he is there, even if it would mean he had to tell his boss to fuck off cause he had somewhere to be. They need him to pick them up like right now? He’s speeding and on his way. He never forgets anything and it makes him a truly special parent, and it does such a good job at making them feel valued.

He also love love loves traditions. Some simple things like always eating dinner together and talking about your day if your kids home, showing him they completed their homework, taking them to school on their first day etc. But he also has some more nuanced ones that could change depending on their interests, like trying to read a book once a month and telling each other about it. Or maybe going mushroom hunting or birdwatching every other weekend, just silly stuff like that! But his favorite tradition was one your kid created, partly by accident in middle school.

It was a Friday night and your kid came home earlier than expected when they were supposed to be watching a movie with a couple of friends. Of course, he was a little curious and concerned, especially when they gave you both a look and mumbled something about how nothing happened they were just tired and went straight to their room. A few moments later they came down and asked if he wanted McDonalds, so of course he said yes and took the opportunity to take them with him in case they wanted to talk. Next thing he knows, they both have a large fry and a McFlurry and he’s getting all the gossip about how movie night was canceled because of some drama. So now, whenever your kid needs to vent or has some good ol gossip, they’ll ask if he wants some McDonald’s and they’ll take a little drive and catch up.

OKAY THAT’S ALL ABOUT BERTY I LOVE HIM <333

Reiner

Okay no, he has no will power. NONE what so ever I’m so so sorry. I hope you’re ready to remind him to say no! He tries hard so we’ll give him that, but when it comes down to it your baby can really get whatever they want out of him LOL. His pockets be hurting between his desire to spoil you and his baby, but he makes it work.

On another note, his favorite thing ever was when your kid was younger and they would absolutely sprint to see him and run and jump into his arms once they got out of school. He’d always be sure to have a little treat for them too and listen to them ramble about their day and all the fun things they learned. He’s definitely a happy listener, and sometimes he would get emotional as your kid got older when he’d think about how one day, he won’t have this to look forward to almost every day. He pushes through it though it’s okay I swear :(! He also has a necklace he has worn since the dawn of time that has their initial on it, as well as yours, and he gets a new chain periodically to make sure it never breaks.

He also LOVES cooking breakfast for you both on Sunday mornings, doesn’t matter how early or late he gets so eager to do it! He also loves bringing you both the plate in bed with a little kiss on the forehead before he makes his own plate and eats with a little smile on his face like :3 he’s a giant sweetheart truly.

You’re both his whole world and he wouldn’t know what to do without either of you. And he makes sure you both know that always <333.

Zeke

He would kill for your kid and I don’t mean that lightly LMAO. He’s the type to have to use every ounce of will power in him to not push that little ass off the swing when you’re kid asked so nicely for their turn and that little brat isn’t sharing. This also goes for parents too. If you need to talk to the principal or teacher about anything that your kid might’ve done and it involves another kid he is not opposed to bold face asking what the other kid did cause he knows damn well his baby wouldn’t act out of line for no reason. Especially when they know their dad is crazy and will come to the school guns a-blazing, they know better than to act up. And so far he hasn’t been wrong.

He also is very into anything your kid tells him and is super animated, never remembers their friends names though, that’s his classic dad toxic trait. He’ll be gasping in surprise and looking at you like it’s all crazy, and then follow it up with a, “who’s Aiden again?”

He’s very handy and has built your kid so ?? Many?? Things?? Once built them a whole themed bed frame for their 13th birthday and he’s been trying to outdo himself since. Cries at every Father’s Day card he gets and denies it literally every time. Definitely a chaotic dad and all your kids’ friends love him but are also terrified of him, they can’t explain it.

The only other goofy ass thing he does is try to catch your kids in a lie like once every year, he’ll go up and say something stupid like, I heard you leaving last night, you don’t have to lie it’s okay you can tell me. Or, your teacher called me yesterday, any idea why that would be? It never works but that just means to him they’re absolutely perfect.

A dumbass but I love him.

——————

taglist: @d1lfluvr @plutowrites @carmillous @pretty-pop-princess-hs @alonezz @venusackerman @classyunknownlover @mossygreys (if you’d like to be added jus lemme know!)

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anothanobody · 2 years

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Mikasa crying won’t sway emperor Eren really easily 😭 tbh even yandere Eren too. Those two are master manipulator.

Younger Eren? A slight percentage maybe

Risks Eren? He’s such a gonner when she’s crying

exactly. mikasa will be able to sway him in certain moments but for sure not when someone tries to hurt her or offends him directly. yandere will probably use her crying into his advantage like when she tried to escape after the misunderstanding, they even had sex after.

younger eren, his love for her is higher than his psycopathy and knowing he stuck her to him for life he'll do anything for her.

risks eren, he can see the little veil of glossiness in her eyes and he's automatically gone, unless he's blacking out. but right after he'd do anything, apologize, beg, everything.

#emperor!eren x priestess!mikasa #yandere!eren x mikasa #older!mikasa x younger!eren #risks em au

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eskumii · 2 years

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Part two of yandere big bro Eren let's say reader has a secret boyfriend and one day Eren sees them on a date.

soft yandere!older brother!eren yeagar hcs (part 2) + how he reacts to you having a secret boyfriend [platonic]

TITLE: " LEARN YOUR LESSON " — navi. part one.

A/N: this took me so freakin long, i am so sorryy ToT i just got back from visiting my grandma, who's not doing so good. life can be rlly unexpected but i'm back baby!! the ending is kind of rushed bc i totally word vomit all over these hcs and can never find a good ending point lolol :( so idk sorry if it's just not that great. i hope u enjoy it anyway!

PAIRING: soft yandere!older brother!eren yeager x little sister!reader (platonic)

CHARACTERS: eren yeager (19), reader (15), reader's boyfriend (16)

☆ it's not often you meet guys your age—or anyone at all, really—inside of the little section of wall maria you live in with eren. after your disaster of an experience at the corps boot camp, you find that the trauma of attempting to befriend people has yet to leave you.

☆ you can't really recall ever making friends with anyone when you were younger; in fact, the only people you could actually consider friends are armin and mikasa, but even they get stonewalled by eren if they hang around you too often. you still don't understand why he's like that, but his overprotectiveness seems to have bred your tendency to be incredibly sneaky. now that's something you can thank him for in the very near future.

☆ of course, though, eren is naturally your closest "guy friend." you tell him everything, he's been there for everything, and he probably knows you better than you know yourself at this point. however, there is one thing you'd rather not talk to him about: your love life. you pretty much had no female influence in your life except mikasa, who somehow had even less capability of showing affection than eren, and what little memories you had of your mother were now fading into obscurity.

☆ your near non-existent social experiences leaves you lonely. you're at the age where romance should be the peak of your explorative endeavors, yet you don't have a single romantic anything under your belt. the thought of being lonely forever makes you sulk, but the day you receive an unfamiliar knock on your front door is the day you meet the end of your demise. it's the new boy from down the street.

☆ eren had stepped out to get some groceries for dinner, so that left you up to your own devices for a little bit. usually he told you to never open the door for anyone who knocks because 1.) he has a key, and 2.) if it's not him, you shouldn't be talking to them, period. something about him being concerned you'd get taken advantage of or kidnapped or murdered—he rambled on about the possibilities for like thirty minutes, you recall. anyway, it would be rude to not answer the door while someone is home, so you did the unthinkable: you opened the door.

☆ and standing before you was quite possibly the cutest boy you had ever laid your eyes on. he's a head taller than you with dark eyes and ash blonde hair, his lean form clad in modest yet stylish apparel. you're both frozen in place, staring at each other with varying degrees of embarrassment. you're suddenly all too aware of your homely pajamas and unkept hair—frankly, you assume he must think you're the ugliest thing he's ever seen.

☆ "uh, um.." he stumbles over his words. "i'm lukas roth. i, uh, just moved into the house that's, like, over there." lukas points to the once vacant house that sits at the very end of your block. renovations for that house were put on hold for so long that it remained abandoned for years, so it was surprising to hear it was finally moved into. excitement wells up in your chest at the prospect of a potential new friend.

☆ "hi, i'm [y/n]!" you stick a hand out for him to shake. "welcome to shiganshina." lukas stares at your hand, face flushing red as he moves to grab it. his hand is large and warm and you're totally internally freaking out at the skinship. you're basically holding hands! though as quick as it happens, it's over, and lukas is back to looking frazzled. he honestly looks like he wants to run away.

☆ "my mom wanted me to give the neighbors these." he sheepishly pulls out a bag of brightly decorated sugar cookies from behind his back, "uh, i hope you like them..."

☆ you're literally ascending. graciously taking the bag of confectionary treats from him, you excitedly begin to engage in conversation, completely disregarding your former shame of your disheveled appearance. he seems to loosen up after a bit of back and forth, thankfully.

☆ your small talk ends abruptly when you hear a woman's voice calling for lukas down the street. he bids you goodbye with a charming smile and promises to visit you again sometime (he stresses the "only if you want, though..." very shyly). the grin on your face is telling and you, of course, welcome it with vigor.

☆ as if on cue, eren emerges from the opposite side of the street. there's no time to duck back inside as he's already spotted you, and he immediately looks like he's going to chew you out with the way a dark look passes over his features.

☆ "who was that?" eren asks, glaring holes into the back of lukas's head as he walks down the block to his own house. "don't talk to weirdos when i'm not home. didn't i tell you not to open the door if it's not me?" you roll your eyes at his annoying demands and step aside so he can come in. he's carrying a bag of vegetables judging by the stems of green onion that peek over the top.

☆ you wait until lukas disappears from your view before you shut the door completely. you gush through a brief recount of the short conversation you shared with him, clasping your hands together excitedly. you even tell eren about how he asked to hang out (which you regret almost immediately after he sends you a sharp, unforgiving look). it just that you've never heard someone say that to you like, ever, so it's only natural that you can hardly contain yourself.

☆ now wait a minute, he asked you to what? eren watches with an exasperated deadpan as you practically float around the room in bliss, the cutely ribboned bag of sugar cookies with pink frosting dangling from your hands. he knew this part of your adolescence would come at some point, just not now. as much as he hates being the bad guy, there's no one else around who'll "crack the whip," so the speak. especially when it comes to boys and dating.

☆ "you're not hanging out with that boy, [y/n]." eren sets the bag of groceries down on the kitchen counter then leans against it with his arms crossed. you open your mouth to argue but you can't even get a breath in before he cuts you off. "no. that's final. you hear me?"

☆ you sit through dinner mumbling under your breath, but eren pays you no mind. is he being irrational? well, he doesn't deny it. a lot of things he does may seem irrational, but there's always a method to his madness. eren knows how boys are at your age and if they're anything like he was, they can only pursue you romantically over his dead body.

☆ as he expected, you don't bring it up for the rest of the night or even the rest of the week. all is well in paradise it seems, and the earth is still spinning on its intended axis. you're acting normally, joking around with him normally, and just... being you normally. honestly, it's a cause to be cautious—eren would be lying if he said he didn't at least somewhat expect an outburst or pushback of some sort. you are his sister after all, the hard headedness and rebellion runs in the blood.

☆ eren begins to grow kind of suspicious of your behavior. you're going outside a lot more with the excuse of doing laundry down at the river (even though you'll be carrying a basket that clearly has like two socks that don't even match) or needing some fresh air. he's not necessarily opposed to you going outside, just as long as he knows exactly where you're going and if it's an area that's within walking distance. eren pretends to find it incredibly bothersome if you were to wander off somewhere unfamiliar, but really that kind of thing makes him panic.

☆ and it's not like you're really breaking any of the rules he's given you. you come back before your curfew and you make sure to tell him where you'll be and for how long. he's at a loss, really. there's a nagging feeling in his gut that tells him you're up to something. however, unless he can find some solid evidence that proves you've been breaking the rules, he can't punish you without looking like an idiot.

☆ on one unfortunate day, eren follows you. it was bound to happen, of course, especially when the excuses you give him get lamer and lamer. nothing can bypass his ultra instincts. so right after you bid him goodbye and the front door shuts behind you, he leaves through the back and skillfully tails behind you. and to his utter and complete surprise, you don't go to the river. no, you don't even leave the block.

☆ instead of going down the path that leads to the river, you stop in front of lupin or luca's house (he hasn't even bothered to remember the kid's name) and knock on the door. you're giddily rocking on the balls of your feet, laundry basket secured between your arm and waist. not even a few breaths later, the door swings open and the boy he saw a while back leans down and kisses you on the mouth.

☆ yeah, okay, now he's furious.

☆ let's just say that eren is not happy with you. he's more frustrated at the fact that you lied to him rather than you having a boyfriend. which is almost equally as bad but lying to him is still worse. he's sort of hurt that you didn't seem to feel comfortable enough to tell him about your little relationship (of course he would have opposed it but at least it's miles better than going behind his back). it looks like the only reasonable explanation for your behavior is that this boy has been influencing you to do these things and betray his trust.

☆ that night, eren is waiting for you in the living room. he's seated on the couch with his arms crossed and legs folded, looking very, very upset. you already know what it's about, but you're totally prepared this time. you won't let him interfere with your love life—you refuse.

☆ you and eren engage in yet another argument. you're screaming at the top of your lungs about how controlling he is and how you just want him to leave you alone for once. he's yelling about how boys are no good and that lukas will just break your heart once he gets bored of you. it hurts your feelings and ends with you locking yourself in your room while eren apologizes, somewhat disingenuously, through the door.

☆ despite your passionate efforts, your theatrics don't work. look, honestly, you were foolish to think you could win against eren. you're not aware, but he's already pulled some strings and now the roths' are conveniently needed somewhere in Wall Sina. that boy is no good for you; it's become evident in the way you're acting.

☆ within the next few days, you receive the sudden news that lukas is moving away again. he doesn't tell you why or where he's going, but he looks obviously distraught and annoyed. you try to visit him but whenever you do, no one answers the door anymore. one time you had seen him down by the river but when you called out to him, he ignored your existence entirely and walked away. you're completely heartbroken from his negligence and silence.

☆ once again, eren takes the upper hand. he'll bring you sweets and comfort foods to soothe the heart that he inadvertently broke. you cry over lukas for a while but eren is there to cheer you up. you don't even get a chance to say goodbye to him when he moves the next week, only allowed to watch through shades of the window as he disappears into the horizon. you feel as though he's taken a part of your heart with him.

☆ eren told you not to hang out with that boy, but you did it anyway. he was right. and he hopes that, this time, you've learned your lesson.

#eren yaeger headcanons #yandere x reader #attack on titan headcanons #aot x female reader #yandere aot #yandere #yandere attack on titan #eren yeager #yandere eren yeager x reader #yandere aot x reader #yandere eren yeager hcs #aot platonic hcs #eren yeager platonic hcs #older brother eren yeager

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liquorisce · 1 year

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Ris, I don’t know if you listen to Lana Del Rey but “Sad girl” is so older Eren x younger Mikasa coded. Like imagine young broke twenty something Mikasa who is the mistress of wealthy Eren Yeager in his late thirties married to Lara Tybur, who comes from a family of old money.

When Lara dies Eren proposes too and moves Mikasa into his giant house so fast he’s practically begging people to talk about it. So now she finds herself trying to appear more grown up when she’s around his friends and coworkers. Feeding into the nasty gossip other women in Eren’s life say about her when they think she’s not around. Trying to pretend she’s not being haunted by his dead wife.

And the image of Mikasa coming downstairs where Eren is waiting to take her to a very important dinner. He watches her come down with far too much make up on, dark eyes and red lips, dressed in pearls and diamonds with a sleek low bun and to his complete horror - one of his wife’s black dresses.

Anyway when Lana says “watch what you say to me” all I see is a teary eyed Mikasa with her soon-to-be husbands big hands holding her face as he tries to get his baby’s lips to stop trembling

omg im so sorry i havent been around here, and didn’t see ur message. but goddamn, i hadn’t heard this song before, and now i’m OBSESSED?

everything you said is CORRECT and GENIUS! also the heartbreak and secret thrill of being the side girl is just delicious. He probably had a little apartment for her and everything, something he begged her to move into just so they could meet at his convenience (more often). And you know, for kicks, lets make him a proper dilf— forties or nothing, yo.

I can imagine when she walks down the stairs dressed that way, the house help are all staring and whispering to each other. Can you imagine the audacity of this girl? Miss Tybur’s body is barely cold in the ground and this woman had already taken her place in her home, her bed, and now in her clothes. But they can’t say much when Eren grasps her hand so firmly and proudly in his, and bends down for a quick kiss. He was never one to display any affection for Lara publicly, so when he tells Mikasa she looks pretty, and winds a hand around her waist before pulling her towards their car, they have no choice but to suck it up.

Although perhaps Eren might tell her they ought to go shopping sometime soon so she can get some clothes that are more her style ;)

#ask box conversations #feelings-whore #eremika

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ackerfics · 3 years

Text

effervescent (i) — eren jaeger.

chapter i ; a constellation of miracles.

— eren jaeger x female reader (encanto au)

— warnings: angst. generational trauma.

— series summary: a young boy of fifteen seeks to save their dying miracle, never realizing that during his little adventure, he finds out the truth about the disappearance of his father, the seer of their little town.

— chapter summary: meet the enchanted family of the jaegers.

— word count: 6.5k

— notes: this is an experiment, to say the least. let's just say this is the pilot chapter of this mini series (i know, i'm starting another one when tpt and sunshine aren't finished yet yikes) so i don't know if some of you guys will like this hejnej. this will mainly focus on eren and reader's youngest son but i assure you that there will be moments between you and dilf!eren that will make the butterflies flutter like no tomorrow. tbh, this is purely for fun because encanto earned a special place in my heart and i didn't think too much in making this series but we all know that in the long run, i'll take this seriously hhhh enjoy reading, loves !!

reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated !! <3

Caspian Jaeger looks exactly like his father.

There’s no shed of you in his features. It’s a fact that his brothers have leverage over him. The eldest among the three of them got all of your facial features while the second eldest inherited your eyes and shade of tresses. The longer Caspian stares at the mirror, the more he sees a younger version of the famed Seer of Paradis rather than a completely different person (courtesy of the photo albums you have of your teenage memories that the boy found). The brown, shaggy hair, the blindingly turquoise irises, and the almost-angry default expression on his face — make him feel awful. He has every right to feel this way, knowing that the man disappeared from his life when he needed him the most. Caspian can’t forget your sobs the morning after his father’s departure, his aunt Mikasa supporting your head on her shoulder. They echo like the monsters his oldest brother tease him about.

That was the time he detested anything related to Eren Jaeger.

The young boy of fifteen tries smiling in front of the mirror, his casual clothing pristine and free of creases and his hair still damp from his morning shower. Caspian puffs his chest a little to make himself look bigger — stronger. His side of the family needs someone to continue standing in as their absent father. Caspian slowly blinks at the image the mirror conjures, pushing past the haunting similarities he has with his dad. Instead, he thinks of you. He has to make you, his soft-hearted and amazing mother, proud. Then, the morning chime of the grandfather clock rings around the house. But before you, he has to make his grandfather proud.

So, with a deep breath, Caspian smiles with full confidence. “I have to make my family proud.”

The morning bustle of their little walled town officially starts at this minute. He can hear the neighing of horses and the honking of the donkeys from his window on the second floor. The sunrise hasn’t even peeked over the top of the rocky walls. The sky is still painted a cornflower blue, the telltale signs that the sun will be here any minute. The magic thrumming through the walls of their house beckons Caspian towards the door. He shakes his head at the inanimate object trying to communicate with him by giving him the urge to start the day. His hand hovers over the golden doorknob, the reflection of his father once again staring back at him. The boy shakes his head, running his finger through his hair.

“Don’t think about him, Caz,” he murmurs to himself.

The door shuts behind him. The many spices waft in the air and Caspian instantly knows that his older brother has long since stepped foot in the kitchen. That’s the older boy’s domain after all. The house is livelier than ever. Much livelier than regular days.

And there Caspian realizes the reason why he keeps seeing his father on every looking glass.

It’s the day his younger cousin gets her gift. That’s why her bed was empty when he woke up earlier.

Again, no thinking about negative things today.

Caspian inwardly shakes his head and sprawls his daily schedule in his head. His first stop is you.

He walks under the arching hallways of their little castle, avoiding the house’s attempts at decorating itself. A non-glowing door stands in front of him and with a knock, he peeks his head through the small crack. “Hey, Mom,” he greets, still not entering your room.

You turn from assorting through the laundry basket and a smile lights up the entire room at the sight of your youngest. It’s no secret that your favorite is Caspian, as evidenced by your overly doting nature when he’s around. It’s one of the reasons why his eldest brother scoffs at him every mealtime because you’re the one who puts food on Caspian’s plate as if the boy can’t do it himself. It’s also not a secret that Caspian enjoys your attention but sometimes, he reminds you that he’s old enough to do things on his own. He’s not blind. He knows that you’re doing this because he’s the only one who doesn’t have anything extraordinary in his veins. Ever since his gift-receiving ceremony ten years ago, you’re always there by his side. You’re his mother, yes, but you also stood as his father through the years after his real one dipped.

“Good morning, treasure,” you beam, and Caspian has to squint his eyes at the brightness of your smile.

“Good morning, Mom! Just checking up on you.” He nods his head at the stack of used clothes on the floor. “Do you need some help?”

You shake your head, waving your hand without looking at your son. “I got this, love. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“Whatever you say, Mom,” Caspian sings, turning to the door.

“Are you feeling alright today?”

His hand flinches over the doorknob. He doesn’t even have to turn around to witness the sympathetic expression on your face. He knows you always worry about him because of his lack of a gift but this day might have solidified it. A turmoil of emotions continues to churn inside his stomach. Caspian so badly wants to tell you that he feels envious, dejected, upset, nervous — but he chooses not to. So, he turns around and flashes the best smile he can ever show for this day. The boy sees how you flinch and he mutters an apology in his head. “I’m alright, Mom.” I have to be. “You don’t have to worry about me.” He returns your words to you and again, he internally says sorry for being closed off. He reminds himself that he doesn’t have to burden you more with his personal problems, especially when this day is so special to his aunt’s side of the family. Still, the look on your face compels him to let everything out.

“Are you sure, sweetie? You know you can talk to me about what’s bothering you, right?” Now, you’re putting aside your task for him.

He chuckles at your concern. “I’m really fine, Mom. Uhm, I gotta go. The house isn’t going to decorate itself.” Then, he senses the disappointed sulk of the house surrounding the room. Caspian rolls his eyes before patting the wall as a way of apologizing. He fixes you with a lighthearted lift of his shoulders. “I better go, Mom, there’s still so much to do.”

“Okay, treasure. I love you — always remember that,” you remind him.

The regular door then closes and you’re left alone with silence — the very thing that became your companion when Eren disappeared from the family ten years ago. You keep sorting out the laundry in a drone.

There was a time when your side of the family radiated homeliness; how the halls of your house wing reverberated with laughter and gleeful shouts from your children. You can still see Eren crying when your eldest was born, how he gushed that your baby boy looked exactly like you just like he always wished. He whispers to your first son every night, telling the toddler that he would grow up as beautiful as his mommy. Eren’s excitement never deterred at the birth of your second baby boy. Again, he marveled at how the baby got your eyes, saying that they were shining like yours. Then little Caspian was welcomed to the world and he was in awe. A baby that finally looked like him. He was once again crying beside you while hugging Caspian close to his chest, thanking you in a mantra.

He thanked you for giving him a family that’s more than just a constellation, a galaxy separate from the Jaeger family his father established. He thanked you for loving him unconditionally when he thought he never deserved love. He thanked you for being effervescent and pulchritudinous, for being his luminary when all is dark.

Eren loved his three children (even though he still wished for a girl) so much, always at their beck and call when they wanted to play and study. He was there at the gift-receiving ceremonies of the two older boys, hugging you tightly from behind at the anticipation of the special magic bestowed because of their brilliance. He was their role model — their hero.

You play them in your mind like a highlight reel even though it squeezes your chest and it’s getting harder to breathe. Drops of starlight trail down your cheeks as you once again spiral into a pit of missing your husband.

You just want him back home.

Wherever he is, you hope that your wishes reach him and that they’re strong enough to compel him to complete this little galaxy he made. It hurts you to see your sons become detached from the idea of having him home again. It’s almost as if they never acknowledge him as their father, seeing as more than half of their lives, you stood as both of their parents. Nobody even mentions his name in the Jaeger household, a taboo word that’s associated with being a devil of clairvoyance. When someone does, out of an accident, you see the flicker of disdain on your eldest son and the indifference from your second. What pierces you is the anger on your youngest, a look that’s so achingly familiar.

It’s been ten years but the ache feels fresh.

You feel him around you but you have to remind yourself he’s never here.

So, you steel yourself and dry your tears. This day should be perfect for Mikasa’s side of the family. You bury the pining and pain deep in your chest, letting silence be your friend again.

The sun hasn’t risen yet but the clanging and shuffling in the kitchen are already creating a symphony on the first floor of the house.

“Good morning, Aran!” Caspian announces with a grin that’s way too big on the boy’s face. “What a fine day, right?”

Aran Jaeger is a combination of you and Eren. The facial shape and nose that he inherited from Eren are completely balanced by your hair color and noticeable eyes. If one were to look closely at his face, they’d say that he’s surely almost a mirror image of his father. However, what stands out from this boy is his warmhearted nature. Given the miracle of healing, Aran developed a love for cooking since he was still a toddler snug within your embrace. He was looking at you with stars in his eyes whenever you maneuver in the kitchen, preparing the meals for the huge family. Because of this, he was dubbed ‘little helper’ by Eren, who adored staring at you in front of the stove with Aran on your hip. After getting his gift, he thought it would be best if he channeled it through cooking — that way, he can learn from you and spend most of his time by your side.

Now, at eighteen, Aran carries the medical support of the entire town of Paradis, inheriting the role of the resident doctor from Grisha. A position he has to live up to.

Clad in his signature loose knitted jacket, its pockets filled to the brim with herbs and spices, Aran turns around at the call of his name.

“Did you drink the chamomile tea I brewed for you last night?” Aran asks while kneading the dough on the counter. “I didn’t see the mug I lent you here.” He gestures at the array of mugs on the open cabinet, a rainbow of various designs that match with each member of the family.

Caspian nervously laughs. “I did finish it but I forgot to bring the mug back here.”

The older boy hums. “How many cups, glasses, or mugs do you have there now? You know that our house can’t transport things, right?” Aran adds more flour to the counter and dough, glancing at the pot of boiling water for the morning coffee.

“I’d like to say less than five but that would mean I’m lying.”

“You have to clean your room, Cas,” Aran laments. “Goldie is moving out of there and you don’t have Aunt Mikasa to clean up after you now.”

Caspian slumps. “I know. I’ll bring them down here after I do my daily chores.”

“You better,” Aran instructs his younger brother to start cutting the vegetables for the omelet since their younger cousin requested to have her favorite food on the day of her gift-receiving. “Did it help you, though? The chamomile tea?” He voices out when the silence becomes thick. If there’s something that Aran is adept at other than cooking and helping people, it’s knowing when they’re hurting. It’s as if he acquired a second sense for it the moment the door lit up for him. That’s why he makes sure to give Caspian a special meal every time. Even though it looks the same as the others’, he pours his understanding into making Caspian’s share. It’s something that he was wondering about — if his miracle transcends physical wounds and pain. Judging by the bright expression on his younger brother’s face while eating his food after a bad day, it does. “I got the leaves from Levi, you know, courtesy of Aunt Mikasa’s connection.”

“Huh?” Caspian looks up from cutting the vegetables, his shaggy bangs touching his eyelashes. He blows on his hair before answering, “Yeah, it did. I slept better after that. Thanks.”

Warmth spreads through Aran’s chest. “You’re always welcome. I’m glad it soothed you, Caz.”

Aran watches his little brother from the corner of his eyes. As the pile of bread keeps increasing on the countertop, so are his concerns for Caspian. Before Marigold was born, the youngest of the Jaeger children was Caspian, thus, the last ceremony was his. And it didn’t end well. There was no party, no fireworks, no celebration. It was almost a funeral. It baffled Aran that for such an extraordinary boy, the eternally shining key the Jaegers were given didn’t grant him the one thing that separates their family from others. Aran was still eight years old at that time but when he saw his baby brother’s trembling lips at the scrutiny and disappointment, he knew that Caspian’s childhood would never be the same again. The little boy ran towards the nursery, slamming the door shut, the sound echoing through the little castle. That night was when the god of healing of Paradis realized he can make others feel better emotionally with his creations. Even if it was just a little spark within viridian irises, Aran was relieved that Caspian slept great.

“Do you want to help me distribute the food to the townspeople?” Aran inquires without looking up from making another batch of pikert and pretzels. “I’m pretty sure the kids in the town would love to have you in the stand today.”

Caspian snorts. “Yeah, they’re always asking me about the family.”

“Yet you still humor them.”

The younger boy shrugs. “Well, they’re kids. They’re naturally curious. Years of rooming with Goldie taught me that much.”

“It’s not like this is the first time they asked you about the extraordinary Jaegers.”

“That’s the thing.” Caspian looks up from his task of beating the eggs, his grin wide enough to make the sun rise from the top of the mountain walls. “I love our family, that’s why.”

Blue washes over Aran in a snap. It’s unfair. His mind takes him to the many times their grandfather berated Caspian for being normal. Cruel and merciless. He doesn’t want to see his baby brother looking like a kicked puppy after a sermon from Grisha but he can’t exactly stop the patriarch of the family as well. He can only watch as their grandfather throws passive-aggressive statements to Eren’s youngest son. It’s unfair. Aran looks away with a faux chuckle, a habit he picked up from their golden child of an older brother. “We love you, too, Cassie.”

“Don’t call me that!” Caspian squawks with warm ears.

Aran snickers, now on the task of making some eierkuchen. “Cassie.”

“‘Ran!”

“What?” The rhetorical question makes the younger boy’s cheeks hot to the touch. “It’s a cute nickname. It’s been a long time since somebody called you that, right?”

“Yeah?! I want it to stay that way.”

“Tough luck, Cassie, because it makes me feel nostalgic so you have to suffer.”

Caspian groans, his bottom lip jutting in a pout. He slumps on the counter stool with his finished tasks. The amount of food on top of the counter island and any free surface of the kitchen erases his sulking mood. He stares at the food his brother made before slowly looking down on his contribution — cut vegetables and beaten eggs for the breakfast omelet. Sometimes, he wonders if his brother’s real gift was super-speed since he had been making that much food every day for the past eleven years. Aran amazes him all the time — fulfilling his role without breaking a sweat — always with a calm countenance and never a stressed one despite the urgency.

“You’re wrong, you know,” Caspian casually states, taking an apple from the fruit basket and mindlessly examining it with half-lidded eyes.

“Hmm?” Aran blinks.

The younger boy glances at his big brother. “Ezra doesn’t love me.” At the confused raise of an eyebrow, Caspian clears his throat. “I told you that I love the family and you told me ‘we love you, too’. Ezra doesn’t fit in the ‘we’ part.”

Aran sighs, almost saying here we go again. “Ezra loves you, Caz. He’s … he just has a different way of showing his love for his family.”

Brown hair bounces off Caspian’s forehead as he scoffs. “Yeah. If constantly bullying me amounts to love, that is. I told you, ‘Ran! He hates me!” He bemoans his woes. More like he exaggerates his aggravation of being in Ezra’s hidden personality. Aran only shakes his head at him, which spurs him to make his point again. “I don’t know what I did to make him look at me like I’m the dirt under his shoes but you can’t deny that he hates me. He’s always making me trip over his vines and flowers! Last week, I could hear him groan when I walked inside the bakery for some light snack!”

Aran laughs. “Cassie, since when did you become Helene?”

“Even without super hearing, I can still hear him. He was literally standing in the same space like me! All I did was greet Niccolo normally like any other day and then Ezra goes around and acts like I ruined his life.”

“All I can say is that you should see it from his perspective. It doesn’t hurt to put yourself in somebody else’s shoes sometimes.”

“As long as those shoes aren’t Ezra’s, I’m perfectly fine with it.”

Aran gives up. It’s the same with Ezra. The more that he tries to make the others see that they can push past their differences, the more they get angry and Aran has to put up with it. He loves his brothers, yes, but the two of them are too stubborn to think outside of their respective worlds. There are times when Aran feels like their brotherly bonds are too strained to mend, that there’s no point in saving it when the two just keep on butting heads like they’re on a schedule. Aran plates the omelet on a huge platter for the family, alongside some bacon and a bowl of salad. “I’m just saying. At the end of the day, we’re still brothers. Fighting will just get us nowhere.”

The plating of their breakfast ends with a spoon clinking against a glass bowl. In an instant, Helene, one of their cousins, appears from the kitchen’s entrance. “I heard that breakfast is ready.”

Caspian jumps an inch in the air. He swiftly turns to the older girl with a hand on his chest. “Stop doing that!”

Helene shrugs with an innocent expression. “I can’t help it.”

“How long have you been listening in?”

The older girl purses her lips. “Enough.” Her answer is clipped, putting a stop to the conversation. She perks up before going inside the kitchen with a swish of her long blonde hair. “Aunt Mikasa and Aunt [Name] are arranging the dining room now. Let me help you with that, Aran.”

“Oh, thanks.” The said boy lets his older cousin handle the pitcher of juice and a pot of coffee. “You can carry the bacon and salad, Caz.”

“Sure.”

The three cousins walk beside the stream of sunlight pouring from the open windows. Now that the sun has officially risen, the town of Paradis wakes up with greetings and bright laughter from every corner.

Every once in a while, Helene flinches in between the two boys, even randomly gasping when all the boys can hear are the chirping of the birds by the trees near their house. It has always been this way with Helene Jaeger, the second oldest of all the cousins. Child of the animal whisperer, she was given the role of communication just like her father, Zeke. The one closest to the animated blonde girl is Caspian's oldest brother but there are still some quirks that Helene absentmindedly exhibits that he can gauge. For example, how she seems to flinch whenever somebody asks her if she catches wind of a private conversation. Another is when she’s buzzing with anticipation when she hears particular whispers that can benefit her curious nature. It’s not a hidden fact that Helene is the source of gossip in their quaint town. Caspian doesn’t even know if that title should be revered. With that aside, the younger boy learns to shut his mouth whenever his cousin is around.

The aurora illuminates the dining room when they arrive.

Their aunt is already within the space, arranging the plates for the respective members of the family. Gifted with a strength that can rival fifty men, Mikasa Ackerman-Kirschtein stands tall with her head regally up high clad in her deep blue dress. Her pixie-cut onyx hair glints against the sunshine and her gunmetal blues lighten up at the sight of the teenagers. Beside her is you, now dressed in a pretty long-sleeved day dress with embroidered flowers, herbs, and butterflies on the material. Your radiance balances Mikasa’s and even without a miracle, you capture the attention of everyone in the room. You follow your sister-in-law’s gaze while placing the utensils in their proper places, a smile automatically pulling on your soft peachy lips.

“Good morning, you three,” you welcome them.

“Morning, Aunt [Name], Aunt Mikasa,” Helene softly replies, placing the pitcher of juice and pot of coffee on the table.

Mikasa smiles. “Good morning.”

Amazed at the spread for this morning, you directly look at your second eldest, “This is amazing, Aran.”

Aran chuckles, coming around the table to give you a side hug. “What can I say? I learned from the best.”

It’s an exchange that happens every morning. It’s anticipated by the people occupying the dining room, their knowing smiles are proof. You always make sure to compliment Aran’s cooking and in return, Aran reminds you that it was you who inspired him to start cooking. It’s a heartwarming display, one that Mikasa wants to preserve as the protector of the family. After Eren left, the black-haired woman took the responsibility of being your pillar. Even before marrying into the family, Mikasa was your best friend since you two were in kindergarten. She followed you around the town after a day of show and tell and you thought it was an opportunity to make friends. You never shied away when she hugged you too tight, even making the effort to squeeze her the hardest you could.

And as Mikasa looks at you from across the table, her heart swells because you’re starting to smile genuinely again. Her love for you isn’t like any other — it's different from what she feels for Jean and way stronger than what she feels for Eren and Armin. If soulmates do exist, she’s sure it’s you for her.

“You have outdone yourself this time, chef,” Jean enters the dining room with Marigold in his arms. “And you made Goldie’s favorite!”

Marigold squeals. “Yey! There’s an omelet!”

“I made sure to put extra cheese in your portion, Goldie,” Aran cooes.

“You’re the best, Aran!”

Caspian snorts from beside Mikasa. “Way to boost his ego, Goldie.”

Marigold squirms in Jean’s arms. When the ash-blond lets her down, she barrels to her favorite cousin’s side, earning a huff from the boy. She can’t reach his waist yet but her hold on his leg is an indication of her affection for her older cousin. Her gunmetal blue irises glint with so much admiration for him that it’s getting hard to not melt on the spot. “I love you the best, Cassie!”

You laugh, making the others chuckle along with you. “It’s been a while since someone called you that, treasure.”

“He’s acting like he doesn’t like it,” Aran teases.

Caspian turns to him with red ears. “I told you I don’t like it!”

“His ears are red,” the older boy stage-whispered to you.

“No, they’re not!”

“You didn’t say it back!”

Caspian looks down on the pouting child. He sighs before ruffling her black hair with a soft smile. “I love you, too, Goldie. You know who you should be saying that to?” Marigold tilts her head, her chubby cheeks begging to be pinched. Caspian glances at the amused black-haired woman beside him, her arms crossed on her chest. He leans down to her level and cups his mouth to whisper in his ear. He makes sure everyone in the dining room hears him, “It should be your mom. She’s standing right there, Goldie.”

“Give mommy a hug, Goldie,” Mikasa states while opening her arms, laughing when her daughter enters her embrace with a giggle. She gives her tickling kisses on her cheeks, nuzzling her nose against her fluffy skin.

“What about me, Mom?” A child who’s the same age as Marigold innocently asks in front of Caspian. He’s the spitting image of his father, who’s shaking his head with a smile. “I need your hugs and kisses, too.” The child reaches for Mikasa, the mischievous glint in his silver eyes never vanishing.

“Will you cut that out, Jack? It’s creepy,” Caspian shivers.

The five-year-old child morphs into a sixteen-year-old blond in a flash.

Jacques Ackerman-Kirschstein is a menace to society. Always ready to prank everyone who passes by, this boy earned the moniker of hellion among the townspeople. As the chameleon of the family, he’s constantly using his gift mainly to babysit the kids and if there’s a need for a second carpenter. What he likes about his miracle though is him having the advantage to fool anyone, having learned how to manipulate his voice for every person he turns into. His parents are exhausted whenever there’s news around the town that features him and his pranks but it’s obvious that they’re also amused by his antics. Like right now, Mikasa only laughs before pulling her oldest son in a hug. Just like how Caspian adores you, Jacques is the same as his mother. If he were to pick between his parents, he’d choose his mom, regardless if he looks a lot like Jean.

“It worked, right? I got my hug from Mom,” Jacques gloats.

Caspian purses his lips to the side. “I don’t think that’s something to be proud of.”

The blond drapes an arm around the younger boy’s shoulders. “It’s worth it.” He then takes a bite on a piece of bacon that he swiped from the table while everyone was talking.

“Hey!” Aran calls for him. “Jack, put that back! Can’t you wait till breakfast?”

“I’m hungry, ‘Ran,” the shapeshifter shrugs.

“That doesn’t mean you should eat before anyone else.”

Jacques then clutches his stomach. “Ugh, I think I have a stomach ache. I definitely need your food, ‘Ran.”

“... I hate you. No seconds for you later.”

The ash-blond boy gasps dramatically, leaning more on Caspian, who’s rolling his eyes at his cousin slash best friend’s spectacle. “How could you?”

“You already ate something, you idiot,” Caspian huffs, shrugging off Jacque’s arm on his shoulder. “You don’t have to hog everything on the table. Leave some for us, pig.”

“I see everyone has gathered here.”

The patriarch of the Jaeger family is an intimidating man despite his amiable smile. He doesn’t tower over everyone like Zeke behind him nor does he glare at people with his dull eyes like Eren did moments before his disappearance. His presence is enough for the grandchildren to straighten themselves, especially Caspian. Grisha Jaeger’s eyes flash behind his glasses, posture firm as if he demands attention from the audience. One could say that he built Paradis from scratch when in reality, the tragedy that befell his previous home made his key necklace glow like a thousand suns. The mountains grew and on a hill overlooking the rest of his people, stood a lone two-story mansion. With everyone he loved gone except for the children that they blessed him, Grisha presented magic to everyone in need.

It’s a story that was told to Caspian before he claimed his door. Grisha talked about how he found love a very long time ago, that’s when Zeke was born. It’s presented to Caspian in a fairy tale. Grisha, young and heartbroken from the evil that took away his first wife, was comforted by a smile that could cure a thousand illnesses. Along came Eren. Then, the family expanded when the Jaegers adopted a girl named Mikasa — there the constellation started shining from the heavens. But when their youngest children turned two, they were forced to flee their home, and the smile that could cure a thousand illnesses was snuffed out.

But in their darkest moments, a miracle was born.

Caspian remembered how immersed he was when his grandfather narrated the tale. He’s a great story-teller, one that showcases how he handles children while still being the town’s doctor. He wonders how it feels being on the receiving end of his proud smile.

Grisha examines the dining room and nods with a smile. “Let’s have breakfast, shall we?”

Everybody follows suit, the scraping of chairs echoing through the room. It just so happened that the person in front of Caspian is the bane of his existence.

Ezra Jaeger was born beautiful and perfect. There’s not much Caspian has to say about him except he’s a proud individual who thinks that he’s above everyone else just because he was given the miracle of nature. With his looks that come from your side of the family, his effeminate features that make people’s jaws drop, Ezra easily bags the title as the Adonis of Paradis — the one who captures the attention of the goddess of beauty yet makes her feel jealous of his aesthetics. He’s known for being a seraph but Caspian sees him as more of a prima donna than a savior. The brunet pities his soon-to-be wife.

He meets his younger brother’s gaze from across the table. Ezra’s face sours, his eyes narrowing at the blank stare Caspian has been giving him. “What?” he mouths.

Caspian merely shakes his head before stuffing his face with eggs. He hears a scoff from Ezra’s direction. “What?” he mouths back.

As an answer, Ezra rolls his eyes like the prissy prince that he is and goes back to calmly eating his breakfast.

The head of the family acknowledges Aran with a warm smile. “You did well, Aran. Thank you for this wondrous breakfast.”

“You’re welcome, grandpa,” Aran replies.

The sound of cutlery on plates envelops the room in a blanket of normalcy. You’re seated beside Caspian, having turned down the offer of being on Grisha’s other side all those years ago, the current position in the table occupied by Helene. Your role in the family is a vague one. When the magical part of the family does their chores around the town, you and Jean spend the entire day cleaning the house. For this day, however, your work lies in supervising where the decorations should be placed, what exact flowers should be painting the house’s walls.

There’s no denying that Grisha loves you for his son, his opinions never change even when you’re alone raising your children. Though he sometimes harbors an awkward air while talking to you, he’s been one of your father figures ever since Mikasa became your best friend. But if there’s one thing that you don’t agree with, it’s the neglect he has for Caspian.

The entire breakfast passes by in a blur and it’s time for Grisha’s reminder of the family’s schedules and chores.

The said man dabs his lips with a napkin. “Mikasa, I heard the bridge was destroyed by the river flood a couple of days ago. That should be your priority today before helping around with the celebration. Jacques, we need another carpenter today and some mothers want to have someone look after their babies while they rest. Zeke, talk with the farmers and inquire them about the newborn cattle. Could you place a good word that we should have them in our pen by the end of the week? Helene, find out about the invitations — how many attendees agreed specifically so that the food preparation is enough for every guest. Aran, my boy, do what you always do. Ezra, our orchid, help your mother with making the town beautiful, alright?”

A chorus of “Yes, Grandpa” and “Yes, Dad” makes the man smile. “Now, then, enjoy the rest of your day and make everyone in the town happy and content. Let’s make this a celebration that Marigold won’t forget.”

While everyone files out of the house, Caspian chases after his grandfather. “Grandpa! Wait!”

Grisha turns around to his panting grandson before he takes one step on the stairs. He freezes for a moment when that similar pair of green eyes look up at him. For a moment, he thought his son came back home. Masking his surprise with a faux smile, Grisha tilts his head. “What is it, Caspian?”

The brunet straightens himself. “What about me?”

“You?”

Caspian nods, his hands clenched by his sides. “What about my chores?”

The silence is palpable until Grisha opens his mouth to say with an apologetic face, “The best way for some of us to help is to step aside. Let the rest of the family do what they do best.”

Caspian Jaeger, the favorite of his mother and the mirror image of his father, has always been the nuisance of the family. Nobody said it out loud but he can see from his grandfather’s eyes that he’s nothing but a disappointment. One of the reasons why Ezra hates him so much is because he’s an embarrassment. That fact he can admit since it’s crystal clear. No matter how hard you or Aran make him see that he’s anything but that, the resounding thought in his mind lingers and pounds until it drills into his skull like a migraine. There’s no point in releasing his frustrations on anyone. Grisha never once treated him like scum, Mikasa and Zeke were always there for him when he needed them, and his cousins made his day brighter than ever. There’s no reason for him to blame everyone that he feels this way. But as he stares back at the reminiscent emerald hues he inherited from the head of the family, he sees it loud and clear:

You’ll ruin the celebration if you touch a single thing in this house.

You’re bad luck.

What if Marigold never gets her gift because you’re trying to help?

And it hurts.

Grisha always wanted the perfect family — a puzzle with pieces that fit with each other and enhances the beauty the full picture brings. Caspian, though, has always been the special case. His efforts of fitting in are futile, the sides of his puzzle piece not fitting with everyone else. Sometimes, he regrets existing. The smiles he donned for the past ten years are just a coping mechanism, something to remind himself he has a purpose even without a miracle.

So, Caspian does what he does best — put on a mask.

The smile on his face is more like a grimace. Caspian nods and that’s all Grisha needs to turn his back and go back to the master bedroom.

“There you are!” Aran appears with a grin. “It’s time to bring the food to the town square. Helene told me there’s someone in need of healing already. Man, can they be more careful—hey, are you okay?” Aran’s mood becomes somber as he trails his eyes over his baby brother’s jovial expression — one that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Are you unwell? Do you need a—?”

“I’m fine,” Caspian cuts off. His tone is awfully chipper and it’s not a good sign.

“Are you su—?”

“Yes!”

Aran follows his little brother’s back with his eyes.

A drawl comes from the other side of the castle’s first floor. “If he wasn’t trying too hard, he wouldn’t be in the way.”

Aran finds himself meeting Ezra’s half-lidded eyes. “You’re not helping, Ez.”

“At least I help the family and the community.”

The younger boy straightens his posture. “Now you’re just being petty and unreasonable.”

Ezra rolls his eyes, pushing himself off one of the pillars, and makes his way towards the front entrance of their house. “I’m telling the truth, ‘Ran. The thing about telling the truth is that it always hurts. Also, stop babying Caspian. It’s starting to become annoying.”

“I’m not babying Caspian, Ezra.” Aran glares. “I am being his big brother — something that you’re failing.”

Aran knows he went too far but as Ezra says, the truth hurts, and even though it’s a slap in the face, one needs it.

After a long minute of silence, Ezra looks at Aran over his shoulder. “If you’re doing it already, then, I don’t see the point in me filling in Father’s shoes.” With that, he goes outside to where you’re talking to Sasha Blouse a few feet away from the entrance, and ends the conversation, leaving behind a trail of pollen and herbal scents in his heels. Aran watches him lose the scowl and greets Sasha with a practiced bow, to which the woman giggles at, complimenting the young man on how polite and gentlemanly he is. Aran nearly scoffs. Instead, he settles for rolling his eyes.

“I’m ready.” Almost as if he’s listening in the exchange, Caspian materializes beside Aran. “Let’s give these to the townspeople now, my arms are starting to hurt.”

Aran lightly laughs, wrapping an arm around his brother’s shoulders and ruffling his unruly brown hair. “Aren’t you the cutest little helper?”

Caspian groans. “Stop coddling me.”

Aran wistfully smiles. “Never.”

#rorywrites #encanto au #aot x reader #eren jaeger x y/n #eren yeager #eren x reader #eren x you #eren x fem!reader #eren x y/n #eren jaeger x reader #eren jeager fluff #eren angst #eren fluff #eren yaeger x reader #eren yaeger imagine

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rrenzwrld · 3 years

Note

I gotchu fam

Here's the request

Reiner Braun x reader, where they met at the training at Paradis. The reader is an Eldian and an older cousin of Eren, she's the same age as Reiner.

(Y/n) and Reiner would always hang out and flirt with another until (y/n) finds out that Reiner was a traitor and tries to kidnapped Eren.

That's where (y/n) was too protective with her remaining family members. She even went with Eren undercover in Marley.

Meanwhile, Reiner thought he saw a familiar person that haunts him every night. But shrugs it off not knowing that was actually (y/n) pretending to be a florist that sells flowers on the street.

OMG ILYSM!!! I’ll be careful next time I promise! I will be getting this out to you asap!! <3

here ya go! I hope you like it and I hope I carried it out how you wanted it!

Was that her? No, it can’t be. Imposible…

Reiner thought as he passed you selling flowers on the street. He nearly stopped to ask but he was all too worried to think about if that really was you. He couldn’t bring himself to face you after all these years. He smiled knowing how beautiful you would become. Just as beautiful as the day he told you so many years ago. His actions were in favor of his country’s pride but if he could give one day or even a few seconds to stop time and see you again, he would. He’d do it in a heartbeat and it pained him to the core to know that he never got a chance. Never got a chance to say how he really felt. He shook his head and moved past you nonetheless, unknowingly. Even though you were in Marley for a different reason, a small part of you wanted him to turn around and pull you into the tightest embrace.

But you couldn’t be blinded by your love for him, who you knew as a murderer and a traitor. Not only did he betray your family and friends, putting them in situations that they wouldn’t dream of being in, he betrayed your friendship. You could never get the scene out of your head and your brain bleed with nightmares every night, yearning for a better outcome that would never come.

‘You goin easy on me because I’m a girl, Reiner?’ He chuckled as he raised his fists.

‘I just don’t wanna bust up that pretty face too bad.’ You caught yourself furiously blushing at his words, which you tended to do often but never thought too much of it. You sent a roundhouse kick his way, which he managed to dodge.

‘You think I’m pretty?’ You teased. He tried knicking you in your jaw, but you didn’t let him get close enough.

‘The prettiest thing walking.’ You wondered how much of his words did he mean or if he was just known as a flirt back where he was from.

You swept his feet out from under him, making him lose his balance and fall to the ground. You bent down over him.

‘I win.’ You smirked, not knowing that Reiner was about to do exactly what you had done. Before you knew it, you were sent to the ground as Reiner hovered over you.

‘I win.’

It was times like that you wished things were how they used to be. You wished Reiner had chose not to breach the walls. You wished he didn’t betray the survey corp. You wished you got a chance to live a life with him without danger or chaos. It hurt the most when you knew your wishes would never come true.

His destruction of the wall that day killed your family and friends. You could never forgive him for that. After his confession, you vowed to never speak to him again. You kept the only family you had left close. Your younger cousin, Eren went through so much already, you wanted to make sure that he’d never have to go through that again. From then on you spent years protecting him and Mikasa, as it was a promise you made to Grisha and Carla long ago, when you were only kids.

Even though you once loved him, you blamed him for all of this. If it wasn’t for him, you’d get to see a happy life and you hated him for taking that away from you. Now you’d put your feelings aside to protect what of your life was left.

#aot #aot x y/n #aot x reader #reiner #reiner braun #reiner x y/n #reiner x reader #eren yeager #mikasa ackerman

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karizard-ao3 · 6 months

Note

Your old drabbles reminded me of your younger Eren x older Mikasa au and that was so precious to me

I love that au. Like, imagining 11 year old Eren bragging about how he hung out with 14 year old Mikasa alone at his house while his parents were out on a date and his friends start making fun of him like, "dude, that doesn't mean she likes you! that means she's your babysitter! Loser!" Then ten or so years later he hits them all up out of nowhere, texting them a selfie of him and Mikasa kissing or something and he's like, "Does she look like my babysitter now?? Does she?? Fuck you all!" 😂

#ask me things #my asks #answered asks #eren jaeger #mikasa ackerman #eremika #younger eren #mikasa is older #eren loves older women

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titan-fodder · 3 years

Text

Deflowered Part Two

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Rating: E (explicit)

Pairing: Zeke Jaeger x Reader

Count: 9K

Warnings: sneaking around, make outs, marking, surprise visits, car sex, zeke trademarked the pull-out method

A/N: i remember being possessed during the first part and a good portion of this one before crapping out of my OC writing phase and not picking it up again until i had the thought “hm maybe people will like this” and here we are.

When your phone buzzes in your back pocket, you check it without even thinking, see Ian's name, and are thrown into a world of turmoil.

Party at Nifa's tomorrow night. Wanna come?

You stare at the screen, digest the words, the question, the implication. You've been talking with Ian for a couple weeks now, both of you just trying to feel the other out. He's a sophomore in college, plans on going into sports medicine, and he's nice. Hasn't pressured you into anything, which is more than you can say for some guys your age.

A few days ago, you would have been thrilled to receive the invitation, but now… now it just makes you think of Zeke.

Zeke who you confided in.

Zeke who you asked for advice.

Zeke who gave you that advice and more. So much more. And you had wanted all of it, almost begged for it, almost…

Gripping your phone tighter in your hands, you shake your head, smile to yourself.

That night, just a few days ago, had been mind-blowing. You hadn't ever experienced anything like that before, not even the foreplay, and definitely not what came after.

It had been a risk going up to his room, one you're surprised you worked up the courage to take, but you hadn't lied to him when you told him you had no one else to go to. Mina is even more of a virgin than you are (were), Mikasa might be too, but she doesn't kiss and tell. Any of the guys would tease you mercilessly except for your brother who would probably have an aneurysm, and Ymir would probably just give you a noogie, a shot, and tell you to figure it out because "how the fuck should I know, I'm gay as hell."

So yes, Eren's older brother had been your best bet at not humiliating yourself entirely. Zeke always did have a weird air of knowledge about him—could be the beard and glasses, could be that he's usually reading whenever you and Marco go over to the house, or it could just be the fact that he's an actual adult.

The house is his. He and Eren live alone, their parents somewhere up north. From what you've picked up from Marco and Eren is that Zeke was a crazy good pitcher on his high school baseball team and got a full ride to a university of his choice.

From there, he was drafted into the major league and played for a few years; he almost made it to the World Series a couple times before tearing something in his elbow and needing surgery to fix it. Eren said he could have played more afterward, but the injury prompted the older Jaeger to go back to school for his masters— "something about only having a few good years left anyway or some old man shit like that."

The whole point is that Zeke Jaeger is a whole adult, one with a fair bit of money tucked away from his professional sports career, one who looks after his dumb younger brother, one who is insanely skilled in bed. Just a well-rounded guy.

So the whole idea of him even giving you the time of day is laughable.

But he did. He took care of you, and joked with you, and made you feel comfortable.

Honestly what had you been thinking? You hadn't even drank anything before going up there that night. Apparently, the fear of embarrassing yourself in front of Ian was all the motivation and courage you needed to knock on Zeke's door.

You would like to say it worked out. You really would. The sex was incredible, Zeke was (is) insanely hot, and he put actual effort into making sure you didn't feel like garbage when it was all over. All-in-all, it was a fantastic experience.

Which is exactly why you cannot stop fucking thinking about it. You can't get the dude out of your head. His face. His body. His voice. His hands, the way they touched you, the way he kissed you, the way he fucked you and groaned how good you were and—

Your eyes snap up to meet Marco's when he calls your name, phone and message forgotten in your hands.

"Sorry, what?"

He rolls his eyes at you but smiles. "Jean, Armin, and I are going to Eren's after school." Your stomach somersaults again. "Wanna come?"

"What are we gonna do?" You hope you look more casual than you feel, heat rising up the back of your neck.

Shrugging, Marco looks to Armin who just says, "Same stuff we always do." Which translates to video games, eating, TV, and some crass name-calling.

"Yeah, sure. Just don't make fun of me when I bring homework."

"Nerd," Eren grins, deflects the potato chip you throw at him.

And that is how you find yourself in the backseat of Armin's old station-wagon, sandwiched between Eren and Jean since Marco has the longest legs and therefore rights to shotgun.

You're nervous. Very nervous. Have to wipe your sweaty palms on your knees before sliding out of the car and following Eren and the others up the walkway.

You try not to look too much like a deer in the headlights when you walk into the house, a house you have been inside of too many times to count; it is the hang out place, the safe haven house, so there really is no reason for you to be as jittery as you are, but here you are, mentally and physically unbalanced as you toe your shoes off by the door.

"Hey, Zeke," Eren greets his brother who is reclining on the couch, laptop perched on his legs. "Got some of the squad with me today."

"When do you not?" Zeke gruffs, not even looking up.

Jean, bold as ever, steps further in and tries, "Aw, come on, you know you love having us," which actually gains the blond man's attention.

Zeke glances up, a no-doubt witty and scathing response on his tongue, but those startling, light eyes land on you for just a moment, just long enough for the air to vacate your lungs, and he settles with a bored, "Whatever. Just know I'm not feeding all of you."

"Okay, well can we have the TV?" Eren asks, sliding out of his jacket.

Zeke doesn't move but nods, "Sure."

"Are you, like, gonna stay down here?"

"What, scared I'm gonna cramp your style or something?" Zeke sneers.

The older Jaeger typically leaves you all alone, stays up in his room or the kitchen. He even gave Eren the master bedroom downstairs just so he could put distance between his brother and all the get-togethers he hosts.

"I mean—"

"Christ, Eren, as soon as I finish this paragraph I'll get outta your way."

His tone is a little sharper than usual today, or maybe you're just paying too close attention. You've always sort of kept an eye on Zeke, though, pretty much once you and Marco started hanging out with Eren in the tenth grade. He's hard to ignore. Not because he's loud or huge or anything like that; he just demands attention without actually asking for it.

He'll pass through a room, shoot off a one-liner that leaves everyone laughing, or stands and watches the guys play a game they think they're good at, only to take a controller and completely demolish them. He offers half sarcastic, half real advice when the boys ask him. He's just always… Cool. Both in the aloof, careless kind of way and in the more shallow, impressive sort of way. Zeke Jaeger is the epitome of calm and confident.

And you definitely had sex with him and are now staring at him—light shaggy blond hair pushed from his face, glasses high on his nose, lips pulled up on one side as he types with long fingers. He's wearing jeans and a red flannel that's rolled up almost to his elbows, the collar crooked, tempting you to fix it, but you don't. Instead, you dismiss yourself to the downstairs bathroom to lean against the counter and laugh at yourself.

This is honestly the strangest predicament you've ever been in, have ever put yourself in, and you have had many opportunities for odd situations. You've always been a levelheaded person, always been told you act much older than your age ("thanks, it's the trauma"), always act rationally. So, why…

There is no regret. Not at all. What a fucking first time, right? You sort of lucked out with that, but now, still coming over to the 'Jaeger Bros household' (as Eren so charmingly coined), acting like nothing is different when everything is different… it's jarring. Looking at Eren this whole week at school has been jarring. Hearing the guys talk about Smash and tease you has been jarring. Standing in this downstairs bathroom when you remember showering upstairs with Zeke is jarring.

But you can't show that anything is off because that—anyone finding out—would be bad. What you did with Zeke was perfectly legal, but you doubt either of you would hear the end of it if anyone else figured it out.

You wash and dry your hands then take a deep breath and step back out into the hallway.

Like nothing happened. Like nothing happened. Like nothing happened.

You reach the den just in time to see the boys sprawling over the couch and chairs, Zeke shutting his laptop and tucking it as well as a couple folders under his arm as he stands. You bite down on the inside of your cheek, walk forward to take his place on the couch, but freeze when he addresses you, and your eyes flick up to his, blue so pale it looks like his irises are made of ice, and the little twinkle in them only adds to their shiver-inducing effect. "I found that copy of Paradise Lost I was telling you about the other night." He nods toward the staircase, and you very quickly understands what he's trying to do.

If anyone is paying you even a little attention they'd be able to see your face redden. Your heart hiccups in your chest, pulse racing, but your brain pushes into overdrive with a loud chant of yes yes fuck yes.

"Oh, you mean when I was throwing my guts up?" You are amazed at how clear your voice is, not even a little shaky.

Zeke chuckles and nods, already looks much less severe than when you first arrived with the guys. You shuffle through the den, tell Marco that you'll be back, not that he asked as he and Eren once again set up Smash Bros. Zeke motions you up the staircase, and you wonder if he can tell what sort of state you're in, if he can see the beat of your heart in your neck, or hear how shallow your breathing really is. His footsteps are louder than yours, trailing behind, and damn, you wish you knew how he was looking at you. What's his expression—

You hit the top step and, out of sight, feel a large hand splay over your back, Zeke gently but firmly pushing you forward and through his open door which is very quickly shut behind you. You walk into his room further, watch as he sets his laptop and papers down on a desk in the corner, then work up the moxie to tease, "So, that John Milton, huh?"

"A genius," Zeke smirks. "How're you feeling?"

You know what he's asking—did he hurt you, emotionally, physically—he doesn't have to say it because you can see it, concern not entirely masked under that half-smile.

Running a hand through your hair, you manage to shoot him a small, nervous grin. "Fine. No, um… Regrets, or whatever."

"Good," Zeke nods, glances away for a nanosecond then back again. "Have you talked to the guy?"

"What?"

"The guy, the one you're trying to impress or whatever."

"Oh," you flush further. You feel like that's really all you do around Zeke—blush—and one look at his bed just makes it worse. That night when he had dove between your legs with fingers and tongue, fucked into you from above then below when you rode him, the mess you made of each of you and the sheets, the noises that...

"No." You clear your throat. "He texted me today about a party, but we haven't… No."

"Are you going to?" That question catches you off-guard, as does the cocked eyebrow that accompanies it, his expression now dripping with a sort of knowing curiosity, like he's already privy to your answer but wants to hear it anyway. Does he know? Do you know?

"I don't know." Apparently not.

"Why? You obviously like the kid, if you're willing to brave Eren's scary older brother for help."

You actually laugh at this. It feels strange, like a little weight lifts, and you realize it's because you're standing with the only other person who knows your secret. You have nothing to hide from Zeke, already showed him everything.

"None of us think you're that scary, for your information."

He pouts. "I'm a little hurt by that, honestly."

"I mean, we all think you're a little weird, if that helps," you snort, beam when Zeke squints at you, the corners of his mouth curling more and more. "Are you seen as scary by a lot of people?"

"I've been told I can be intimidating."

That is not surprising. He kind of is extremely intimidating but, "Maybe it's different since Eren has aired out most of your dirty laundry to us."

"Oh, has he?" Zeke crosses the floor to sit on his bed, has to look up at you from his place.

You feel strange, like you don't know what to do with yourself. You nibble your lip, wring your hands behind your back, toe at the wood beneath your feet, just fidget, yet you still keep that smile on your face, try your damndest to not look as awkward as you feel.

"For sure. Baseball career is old news. We're all way more interested in your monkey phase now."

"My monkey—" Zeke thinks before obviously realizing what you're talking about, palms his whole face, "Oh my God, Eren wasn't even alive for that, how does he know—"

"Apparently your mom has pictures."

"Yeah, in the house in Cape Cod."

You make a face, high eyebrows and sly grin. "I guess Eren thought it'd be useful to take pictures of said pictures, got drunk one night and now…" You shouldn't be giving Eren away like this, but the way Zeke's ears are turning red is adorable and all too encouraging. "Come on, it's not like you actually care what we think."

"I—..." He stops, snaps his jaw shut and nods. "You know what, that's true."

Rolling your eyes, you cross your arms, wonder if Zeke's gaze really did flick to your covered chest or if you're just imagining things. You aren't much to look at today, you think. At least the other night you had been in your favorite shorts and a stupid tight t-shirt, but today you feel utterly average standing in Zeke's bedroom, especially with him right in front of you looking devilishly handsome in his usual careless yet strangely put-together way.

Maybe… Maybe you've always had a little crush on him. Maybe you just ignored it until now. And maybe there's a reason you haven't texted Ian back, and that reason is reaching out to grab you by the wrist.

"You just gonna stand there all day, or—"

It's oddly natural, the way you let Zeke tug you closer, the way you lower and slot your legs on either side of his, the way your hands find his chest at the same time his settle on your hips. It shouldn't be so easy, but your brain is on autopilot, has been for days now, and your heart rate somehow slows down and speeds up at the same time—can't be healthy—and those icy eyes are wide as Zeke peers at you through his glasses, and you murmur, "This is a dangerous game," to which Zeke smirks, nods, then goes in for the kill.

His lips aren't quite as gentle as they were before, but his kiss is still hopelessly intoxicating. You could get drunk off of him, are getting drunk off of him. Your immediate response is arching your back, pushing your chest against his, then exhaling sharply through your nose when his hands travel down to your ass, gripping tightly. He smells so fucking good, a spicy aroma with a hint of something else. Whatever it is, it does things to you.

He bites your lower lip, gives it a small tongue, then presses in again, and you're eager to open your mouth, to welcome his tongue, hot and experienced and holy shit, that's been in my pussy, and claiming. You feel claimed, had to cover up hickeys for three whole days, always checking in bathroom mirrors to make sure the makeup hadn't worn away.

But there's a voice of reason, very quiet, in the back of your head that somehow gets you to pull back just enough to speak. Your breaths mingle together, and you look at Zeke through heavy lids, taken aback by how blown his pupils are, then kiss him chastely once more.

"I need to go back downstairs. Can't use the sick excuse again."

Zeke chuckles almost imperceptibly but agrees. However, he pauses, mumbles a low, "Just one more thing," then reaches up and pulls the collar of your V-neck aside and attaches his mouth to a patch of skin just under your collarbone. You let out a short whine, rock in his lap as he sucks and bites and sucks again until he pulls back and grins sideways in approval.

"Um," you laugh. "I've gotta say, I feel like I don't know you well enough for you to be marking your territory," you only half joke because on one hand it's true—you and Zeke have had maybe two full conversations at this point—but on the other hand, you are so hot for him, it's unreal. You're also a little flattered.

"I'm not marking my territory," he negates. "You just look good bruised."

Your entire body heats at that, sends a shiver down your spine, and you almost shove Zeke down in his own bed to return the favor, but you are still lucid enough to know that would not be a wise thing to do. Not right now, anyway. Instead, you plant a foot on the ground and get up, tugging your shirt over the angry mark.

"I still have your hoodie, by the way. I would have brought it if I knew we'd be coming over, but…"

"Don't worry about it. Some other time."

He also rises, looks down at you for a long moment like he's contemplating something, then steps passed you over to a tall bookshelf in the corner of his room. He runs a finger over the spines of each book until finding what he's looking for, then pulls it from its place and hands it to you—a worn copy of Paradise Lost.

"That's got some pretty good annotations in it, just so you know."

"And just so you know, I don't actually need this."

"It's why you came up here, though," he reminds you in a chiding tone.

"Yeah, yeah," you mutter, flipping through it. Zeke wasn't wrong when he said he took serious notes. The thing is full of highlighted passages and thoughts scribbled in the margins.

You sense him closing distance again, are pulled from your perusing by two fingers under your chin and look up at the blond with hazy eyes. He is just so…

He catches your lower lip with his thumb, running the pad of it over the sensitive skin, and you just gaze at him as your insides melt. The way he's staring at you… you want him again. Want to feel him again. On top of you and inside you and all over you. There is a dull but unmistakable throb between your legs, and the realization has you flushing so warm and dark, there's no way Zeke doesn't know what he's doing to you.

"Alright then," he smirks. "Be a good little girl and go back to your friends."

It makes you suck in a sharp breath. Good girl. That… You've never… No one has ever… Why does it feel so fucking good? And, why does he know? It's disturbing.

You nod, idly wonder how bad it would be if you just… stayed up here the whole time, played it off as the two of you getting caught up talking about books. It could work. It's a believable story.

"Downstairs," Zeke prompts rather smugly, obviously aware of what your dumb brain is doing.

You swallow and turn, walking on shaky legs to the door all while feeling Zeke watching you. Book clutched tightly in your hand, you leave and descend the staircase to join your friends once again.

It's odd this time. No one is drunk and you can't make yourself tiny in the corner of the couch because Armin is already sitting in it. You have to settle with sitting next to Eren on the floor once you haul your backpack over, determined to distract yourself with homework. You just made out with Zeke upstairs. You just sat in his lap and let him mark you and loved it.

A dangerous game indeed.

"Hey, can you cover a cocktail shift this Saturday?" Hannes asks from behind the bar, planting two hurricane glasses upside-down on the drying mat.

You make a face, know you shouldn't challenge your boss, but you still need to know, "Which bartenders will I be working with?" It is very important information. The success of your shift sort of hinges on the shoulders of whoever is making your drinks.

"Uh," Hannes looks up at the ceiling, closes one eye like he's thinking. "Saturday evenings are… Petra and Nana, but Nana is out of town, so I'm gonna pull Galli in, if I can."

"Galli?" You’ve never heard of them before.

"Yeah, Galliard. He's usually on week-nights, but he said something about needing extra cash, so—"

"Saturday's the way to go."

"Exactly. He's an okay dude, though. No one's had any problems with him so far."

You nod and agree because you, too, could use some extra money, and besides, Hannes is always very understanding whenever you have to take time off. Plus he doesn't mind talking to your problem tables.

"Awesome. I appreciate it."

Saturday afternoon rolls around, and you slink out of the apartment you share with both Marco and Ymir clad in short denim shorts and your Garrison's t-shirt, the V-neck you reserve for cocktail shifts such as this. Thankfully, it still covers the bruise that was left below your collarbone—you had made sure to check, skin prickling as you stared at the mark in the mirror.

You take the metro to the closest stop and tie your hair up as you step through the doors of the restaurant you’ve worked at since you turned sixteen.

You check in with Hannes in the office and situate your apron, make sure you have more than enough pens to last the evening, then go to relieve the server in your section.

Petra waves at you as she passes, quickly counting bills before handing them off to another server in the well. Leaning over the bartop further down is a stocky redhead you’ve never seen before, obviously Galli.

Falling into your shift rather easily, you take orders and punch them in, run food and drinks, and do your best to bullshit with your tables. You’re used to the way male patrons look at you, dressed to show off a little bit because of it. Tips come a lot easier when men can stare at your legs and chest, and even though it makes you uncomfortable sometimes, if it will get you thirty percent, so be it.

Galli ends up formally introducing himself maybe an hour into the shift. His red hair is slicked back and he has a charming, boyish smile that you have no doubt gets him everything he wants. "I'm Galliard," he holds out a hand after wiping it on his low-slung jeans. "Everyone calls me Galli."

You offer your own name, then, "Hannes said you usually work week nights?"

"Yeah," he nods. "I've been trying not to do weekends, but you know, shit happens."

He's a good bartender, quick with drinks, good with guests, not a complete dick with the servers like some, though you do hear him snap a couple times ("If you wanted it on the rocks, why the fuck did you ring it in frozen?"). Being that your section is connected to the bar, you end up making some small talk with him, Petra, and Marlowe the barback until it gets too busy to dick around. It's slightly faster paced than you’re used to, but you’re good at the job—able to multitask and give the guests what they want.

"Hey," Galli calls to you from the other side of the bar top as you walk with a tray full of empties. "My friends are coming by. Are you cool with them taking your 2-0-4?"

"Are they gonna camp?"

"Oh, most definitely," he laughs. "But they tip really well. I always make sure of it."

You wave a hand, "Yeah, it's fine."

"Cool, thanks. I'll make sure they take care of you!"

You shoot him a look, shake your head when he winks, and you remember Hannes telling you the guy hasn't had any trouble yet. You think you know why.

204 is a round high-top that gets sat as soon as it opens up, so you subtly place an 'On Wait' sign on it, snort when Galli claps his hands together as if to pray to you, then disappear into the back to drop your dishes and pay a table out.

As soon as you walk back out, you stop, eyebrows rising on your forehead. The high table is once again full, taken up by five new people, but not all of them are strangers. You recognize a broad man with blond hair and a wolfish grin as well as the gangly brunet beside him as some of Ymir's friends, Reiner and Bertl. They've been to the apartment a few times, enough for you and Marco to know them and for the men to know you. There’s a tiny blonde girl on the other side of Bertl, and next to her is one more familiar face, only this one makes your insides twist uncomfortably, the sensation only worsening when icy blue eyes catch yours and widen slightly at the sight of you.

Zeke.

Because of course.

Galli suddenly rushes out from the side of the bar to sidle up beside you, boldly throwing an arm around your shoulders like he's known you for more than a few hours as he all but shouts, "Yo, meet my friends!"

"I actually know some of your friends," you tell the ginger, look back and smile at them, "Reiner, Bertl, Zeke," the 'k' of his name seems to echo in your mouth, and Zeke arches an eyebrow, the same side of his mouth twitching upward.

Fuck fuck fuck, there's no way you’re gonna to be able to focus with him being there.

"Oh, cool! So that means I won't have to lecture them on the proper etiquette of tipping."

"Pock, I was a bartender for seven years," Reiner gruffs. "I know how to fucking tip."

"I'm just making sure! Anyway, that's Annie," Galli points to the little blonde who nods, "And that’s Marcel, my brother. Guys, order the good shit through her, but uh,” he glances over his shoulder then leans into the table, “I can put cheap liquor on the spill tab, so like, you know…”

Annie salutes sarcastically, and Galli takes it as his signal to get back behind the bar.

“So, uh, what can I get ya’?” You start, pulling your notepad from your apron before you lean over the table between Marcel and Reiner.

They order a couple appetizers and drinks—Bertl and Annie get cocktails sweet enough to give you a headache while Reiner and Marcel stick to IPAs, and Zeke orders an Old Fashioned that prompts Reiner to laugh and mumble a low, “Fuckin’ grandpa.”

You snicker, try not to shiver when your gaze flicks to Zeke and find him staring at you from under the thick rims of his glasses, a knowing, naughty kind of stare that sets your body on fire.

“I will be right back with all of that,” you say, followed by a cough, then scamper over to a different table.

It’s busy enough that no one pulls you over to talk at any of your tables save for a woman who has a problem with her shrimp cocktail because it tastes “too fishy”, and for that, you call Hannes over. You move quickly, enjoy the feeling of your book getting fuller and fuller with each passing party, and when you do have a little bit of time, you make sure to spend it at Galli’s table, try to situate yourself between Reiner and Marcel every time because they’re both nice and it puts enough distance between you and Zeke for you to be able to breathe.

More drinks, more apps, a round of cheap shots “on Galli”. Reiner tries to get you to take one, and while your protest is, “Um, I could definitely lose my job,” Zeke chooses to speak up with a snide, “She’s not twenty-one, dumbass.”

Reiner holds up a finger as if to argue but thinks better of it. “That is very true. When do you and little Marco graduate, anyway?”

You laugh, flick hair out of your eyes and tell him, “I’m out at the end of this year, but Marco still has one more to go.”

“I didn’t know you were the older sister,” Zeke muses, and he looks genuinely taken aback.

You can’t help but tease, “I sure hope I’m older. Marco’s only sixteen.” And the implication is not lost on the blond as he looks back down to the table, bottom lip tugged between his teeth as he tries and fails to hide his smirk.

You have to watch out. You can’t overstep or give anything away, but it’s hard when Zeke is sitting there in a dark t-shirt and bomber jacket, jeans tucked into combat boots. His light hair is combed out of his face, and his beard has been trimmed, and he just keeps looking at you like he has something he wants to say but he can’t, and neither can you, and you probably shouldn’t even have anything to say because it’s not like whatever you’re doing is anything to talk about. It isn’t anything. It isn’t—

“I’ve gotta pee,” you tell Galli as you untie your apron and hand it to him to keep behind the bar. "Steal from that, and I will end you."

"Wouldn't dream of it, doll," he grins, stashing it under the register. "I'll keep an eye on your section."

You thank him and then gallop down the few steps to the main serving floor. You nod to your co-workers on the way to the restroom then do what you need to do as quickly as possible—a skill everyone in the service industry must learn. After washing your hands, you open the door with paper towels then toss them into the nearby trashcan before sliding out into the cramped walkway.

You bump into someone immediately which is a common occurrence, but when hands move up to steady you, you’re hit with the idea that you running into this someone was not just by chance.

"Were you waiting for me out here like some kind of creep?" You try to play like your heart isn't in your throat, like you’re more confident than you feel.

"Creep?" Zeke scoffs. "What, you get what you want from me, so now you're all mean?"

You take on a sing-song tone. "I don't know what you're talking about.”

His hands are still on you, one clasped on your shoulder and the other at your hip, and Zeke takes a cursory look around, then crowds you against the wall to speak lowly, "I didn't know you worked here."

"Why would you?" You snicker. "We haven't exactly been big with the small talk." Or talk of any kind until a little over a week ago.

"Fair point. Still, I feel like you know more about me than I do about you, and that just seems wrong considering I—"

"Well, I also don't have a mouthy little brother who likes to talk about my business to his friends, so there's your first problem." You tell him, stick your tongue between your front teeth before continuing. Your adrenaline takes over every time you speak with Zeke, or it has on the more recent occasions, so your mouth is a little sharper than usual, words clearer and much cheekier. "Plus, I'm surprised you're interested at all since that is what I am to you—one of Eren's friends."

Zeke blinks at you a couple times, digests the information, then cocks his head to the side. "Maybe that's all you were before, but now…" he trails off, and his lips stay parted, pale eyes going hazy, and you know you’re in trouble.

"But now what?"

You can only imagine the doe-eyed expression on your face as you look up at Zeke. You hardly realize your hands are moving until your fingers gently curl into the fabric at the bottom of his jacket.

A low chuckle rumbles from his chest. "Now, I'm invested."

"Oh, is that so?"

There is, in the deepest, darkest recesses of your mind, a warning alarm ringing—an inaudible question of why—why would someone like Zeke Jaeger care—but it's so easy to ignore, so you do because the truth is that you like that he's invested and curious and keeps wanting to touch you.

"It is," he murmurs, and the hand on your shoulder shifts so that he can use his thumb to push the fabric of your shirt aside and admire the mark he left there, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he stares.

It's exciting and sexy and so not your life, and out of everyone you could have caught the attention of, it's Zeke? It feels like you hit some kind of jackpot. The guy is—he's fucking sex on legs. He's older and brilliant and talented and funny and a good big brother that looks out for all of Eren's friends in his own condescending way. He is so out of your league, but for some reason, he's giving you the time of day, and you are not about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

"I've gotta get back to work, monkey boy," you remind him, grin when he rolls his eyes. "How long are y'all staying?"

Zeke shrugs his shoulders and steps away, shoves his hands in his pockets. "I don't know. When does your shift end?"

You reach into your back pocket and slide your phone out. It's nearly ten which means, "I've got about an hour left, plus side work, so I'll be getting out of here probably close to twelve."

"Did you drive?"

You shake your head, feel tension coiling in your stomach. "Don't have a car. Took the metro."

Zeke frowns. "That is so dangerous."

Shrugging, you peek over his shoulder to look into your section. Galli is talking to one of your booths.

"I mean, I was gonna Uber home."

"Like that's any better," Zeke admonishes. "Let me give you a ride."

It is one hundred percent a demand, no question anywhere at all. You laugh quietly. "Are you trying to give me a ride or give me a ride?"

You think you’re being all smooth and suggestive, but you are clearly out of your depth when you squeak at Zeke's crass, "I mean, I'll definitely fuck you again if given the chance, but I'm really more concerned with your safety right now." You blink at him several times, must look completely taken off guard because Zeke smirks and tucks a stray piece of hair behind your ear. "Don't dish it if you can't take it, sweetheart."

And then he backs up and gestures for you to return to your fucking job, ducking into the men's room himself.

You are left dazed as you go back to your section, only snapped out of it when Galli thrusts your apron back to you and rattles off a couple of updated bills— "2-0-1 ordered wings, 0-3 sent back their daiquiris, the motherfuckers, and 0-6 is paying out—why do you look like that? Are you feeling okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine, just uh, weird text from my friend," you lie. "Thanks for covering."

The shift is a little blurry after that, but you manage to keep your fuck ups to a minimum. Zeke sits and talks with his friends, sips on his drinks but doesn't get anywhere close to tipsy while Reiner and Marcel grow progressively louder the later it gets. Bertl is the first to stand from the table, grabbing Annie's small hand and fisting his other in the back of Reiner's coat. "Come on, big guy," he urges his friend forward.

"Yeah, yeah, see ya' 'round," the large blond wriggles his fingers at you then marches down the walkway with his friends.

It leaves Zeke and Marcel alone at the table and you in an awkward spot when Galli says, "Z, you can go if you need to. I've got him," while nodding toward his brother.

"No, I'm fine," Zeke dismisses. "I'm taking her home after her shift."

"Oh?" A ginger eyebrow raises. "Oh, that's—"

"She's friends with my little brother."

You peer around the corner from where you stand at a computer, catching Zeke's gaze and shaking your head in a very 'tsk tsk' manner.

"Guess that worked out then. Small fuckin' world, right?"

Once your last table has paid out, you start sweeping and refilling condiments, and you’re happy to be able to do your cash drop and walk out of Garrison's with Zeke before the restaurant even officially closes. He leads you to what you know to be a lifted black Bronco, having seen it in the Jaeger Bros driveway before, and even opens the door for you and helps you up into it.

"I assume you live close to the house," he half asks half states when he slides into his seat.

"Yeah, I'm in Canyon Springs, the apartment complex off Slidell."

"Yeah? A friend of mine lives there. Pretty nice place."

You nod and pull out your phone to text Ymir that you’re on your way home. Your cousin never outright requested she know the whereabouts of you and your brother at all times, but you know the check-ins ease the older girl's mind even if she won't ever admit to it out loud.

"Marco and I live with our cousin. We split rent as best we can, but like, it gets tough sometimes, one of the reasons I took this shift tonight."

It falls silent for a few moments, and you inwardly cringe, wondering if you’ve said too much. The last thing you want is for Zeke to pity you.

Before you can backtrack or change the subject, though, he turns his car radio on, familiar music playing at a respectable volume, and your lips curl up at the corners when you ask, “Is this The Used?” even though you know the answer.

Zeke glances over, raises an eyebrow and smirks. “Huh. Figured they were a little before your time. Especially this album.”

It’s the first of the band’s discography, but you know it well. “Maybe a little before mine but not my cousin’s.” You go on to explain, “Marco and I went through a bit of an… Emo phase, I guess, after our parents…” You clear your throat and smile again. “Anyway, we got into a lot of different music. Just wanting to connect to something, you know?”

“Yeah,” Zeke nods. “I feel that. What’s on your typical playlist then?”

Your taste has changed a bit since then, but some of that old, angsty music still makes it on your track-listings. Other than that, they mostly consist of indie rock, movie soundtracks, and a little bit of K-pop here and there.

Zeke scoffs at this, mumbles a quiet, “Okay, I’m no longer impressed,” to which you roll your eyes and reach over to flick him in the arm.

He chuckles then fishes his phone out of his pocket, tosses it into your lap and tells you, “Pass code is 2-3-2-7-8. Put your number in. I’ll make a playlist and send it to you.”

“Trying to broaden my horizons?” You snort as you type in the five-digit code and navigate to his contacts, ignoring the way your hands are shaking.

It’s nothing. Just your phone number. It’s not like he’s gonna use it all the time.

Still, the idea of Zeke being able to contact you at any time lights your belly up with excitement. That feeling of being special thrums through your body, and you bite your lip to hide a giddy smile when you hand his phone back to him.

Neither of you say much afterward, so Zeke turns the music up, and you spend the rest of the car ride bobbing your head and mouthing lyrics you know by heart.

When the gate opens, you direct him to your building, but rather than just stopping to drop you off, Zeke pulls into one of the spots under an awning. You unbuckle your seatbelt but stay sitting for just a little too long, head too full and stomach doing somersaults until you’re finally able to look at him and utter a small, “Thanks for the ride. I really—

Zeke is out of his seatbelt and leaning over the console faster than you can track, fingers tangling in your hair as he pulls you into a harsh kiss. The smallest of whimpers escapes you, and you press in closer, curling a hand around the back of his neck and opening your mouth. He wastes no time in sliding his tongue inside, the kiss quickly turning hot and wet—desperate. You’ve never wanted anyone more in your life.

Because you know what he’s capable of, what he can do to you, and fuck, you can feel yourself getting wet just thinking about it.

There’s a tugging at the hem of your shirt, and you break to take it off, welcoming the cool air on your heated skin.

Then the little voice in your head pipes up again, reminding you that you’ve just gotten off a shift. You’ve been sweating and taking on the smell of every fried food known to man. It gives you pause, makes you very self-conscious, and you hold your hands up, “Wait, wait,” even as Zeke works at the front clasp of your bra. “I—Zeke, I just got off work. I probably smell, and—”

He looks at you over the rim of his glasses, brow furrowed in something between incredulity and condescension. “Listen, sweetheart,” he starts, and you do. “I don’t give a solitary fuck that you don’t smell like flowers or whatever you think you’re supposed to smell like. All I care about is fucking your little pussy again, okay?”

You can actually feel your gaze get cloudy with lust, the throbbing between your legs increasing.

“Stop overthinking. Just take your pants off,” he presses.

You’re kicking your shoes off and shimmying out of your little shorts as quickly as you can, a shiver running down your spine when you hear the zipper of Zeke’s jeans. He falls back as he reclines his seat, sliding it as far away from the wheel as possible, then holds a hand out to help you over the center console. He’s kicked his pants off somewhere on the floorboard, leaving you to grind down on bare skin as you straddle him.

Bringing you in for another kiss, you feel his hand trail down your side, between your legs, and your moan is muffled by his mouth when he slips a finger into your heat far too easily.

Zeke breaks away to swear, pumping his finger and grinning salaciously up at you.

“Baby, you’re so wet.”

Nodding almost shamefully, you squeeze your eyes shut. Embarrassed as you may be, though, you can’t help but rock your hips, effectively riding his finger and gasping when he slips a second one in. They feel divine, rubbing against sensitive tissue and quickly pulling lewd noises from you. When you open your eyes again, you find Zeke watching you with a half-lidded gaze, like he’s completely enthralled.

Even with the odd angle of his wrist, he finds your clit without even looking, pressing his thumb to it and making perfect fucking circles that make you drip for him. Your toes are curling, thighs tensing, and that pressure starts to build, but—

“I’m ready. Can we—Can I—”

“Can you what?” His voice is gravelly, thick with desire.

You can’t look at him as you try to finish your question, crushing your lips against his so you can mutter against them, “Can I ride you? I wanna—on your…” It’s still hard to get out, but Zeke gets the picture, and you can feel him smile into the kiss.

He nods, slides his fingers out of your needy pussy, then holds them to your mouth. You don’t think twice before sucking on them, tasting your arousal and taking the digits until they brush the back of your throat.

Zeke hums those two words you’ve been craving, “Good girl,” and you whine around his fingers, lift yourself just enough for him to be able to position his cock between your folds. He teases you for a moment, using his now wet hand to hold you by the hip while he rubs his flushed tip back and forth over your slit. He’s hard and hot against you, and when he finally pushes into your clenching hole, his head lolls back against his seat, and he lets out a low, “Fu-uck, baby.”

You squeeze him, enjoying the way he’s stretching you, then start to sink down on his length, stalling when he huffs, “Don’t hurt yourself, okay?”

But you take him without much issue. He fills you so perfectly, rubs against your swelling walls, and fuck, you forgot how big he is, how thick, how he hits that spot inside of you without even trying.

You sit in his lap for a second, enjoying the way he twitches inside of you, then cant your hips experimentally and moan. Coherent thoughts no longer exist in your mind, just a raw craving to fuck. The moment you lift yourself, Zeke’s fingers dig into the flesh at your hips and guide you back down, and like that, the two of you fall into a rhythm.

Your skin slaps against his. The truck rocks. The windows start to fog in a way you’ve only seen in movies. Anyone who passes will know exactly what’s happening inside the vehicle, but you cannot bring yourself to care, not when Zeke is fucking up into you at just the right angle. Slick is dripping down your thighs, quickly joined by the less viscous fluid he milked from you the last time you slept with him.

Whimpering, you try to warn him, “Gonna ruin—god—your seat,” but he just keeps rubbing circles on the little bud, unrelenting and apparently uncaring.

The empty buckle of the seatbelt is digging into your left knee, but you can’t stop moving, barely feel it as you ride Zeke as if possessed. You hadn’t realized how much you needed this, how much you’ve been craving it since the other night, but now you know, and you don’t think you’ll ever forget again.

“Fuck, you look so good—the way you take my cock, tight pussy squeezing me so nice—”

Heat bubbles in your belly as your orgasm approaches, cunt clenching then somehow opening further as if preparing your body to take his—

“Fuck,” you still suddenly, eyes going wide, and Zeke stares at you in surprise. “We forgot a condom.”

He makes a face but moves to open the center console, procuring a handful of napkins, then tells you, “I’ll warn you before I come. Promise.”

If you were in a more lucid frame of mind, you might protest, but his solution is enough to put you at ease, and you nod before quickly picking up where you left off.

Zeke is mumbling obscenities but quiets himself by leaning up and sucking one of your nipples into his mouth, gently biting the bud and flicking his tongue over it as he lifts and drops you on his cock over and over.

It’s too much—the sensation of him deep in your cunt, the way he’s licking over your flesh, his thumb pressing against sensitive nerves, and you can’t even finish your exclamation of, “Oh god, I’m co—” before your climax rocks your body.

Eyes rolling, your jaw drops, and you let Zeke use you to his pleasure as you shiver and writhe and come. Your walls pulse around his cock, squeezing and fluttering as you whimper from oversensitivity.

“So close, baby, don’t worry.”

He doesn’t take long, waiting until the last possible second before lifting you quickly, his length slipping out of you entirely and springing up to bob against his stomach as he shoots his load right onto his shirt.

You watch the way his jaw slides, his eyebrows raising, and oh, you can see how flushed his face is in the dim light from the awning. He looks about as fucked out as you feel, and as he catches his breath, he shows a lopsided smile.

“Feel good?” He asks breathlessly.

You nod, add a quiet, “Dizzy… but good.”

It takes a couple minutes before you’re able to work up the strength to climb back over to your seat, ungraceful as you fall into it and start pulling your clothes back on. Zeke uses the napkins to dab at his shirt before eventually muttering, “Fuck it,” and taking it off to throw in the backseat.

You feel shaky, a little overwhelmed, and Zeke seems to pick up on it because he reaches over and places a gentle hand on your head, scratching against your scalp in a comforting manner.

“I’m sorry I can’t really take care of you this time.”

His hand falls to cup your cheek when you turn to look at him, and the way your heart pounds in your chest at the gesture is very concerning. It’s not a good idea to get attached, to develop real feelings, because you doubt he’ll ever fully return them.

But his palm is warm, and the way he’s looking at you—light eyes full of something, sincerity, worry, you don’t know.

“It’s fine. You didn’t, like, hurt me or anything,” you tell him. “I’m just gonna shower and wind down for the night.”

“Okay.”

He moves at the same time you do, one last kiss before you detach yourself from him and slip out of the Bronco.

You walk up concrete stairs on weak legs, able to feel the dampness of your panties, and you hope to God no one is awake in the apartment. As silent as you can be, you creep inside. The kitchen light is on, but it’s empty just like the living room. You can see a sliver of yellow peeking out from Marco’s bedroom door, basically hurtle past it to get to the safety of your own room, then grab some pajamas and bolt to the bathroom.

The shower is scalding, helps loosen the muscles that had grown tense over the course of your shift. It also washes away the evidence of your tryst, but every image—every word, every groan—remains at the forefront of your mind. You doubt any of it will be going away any time soon.

Hair washed and body scrubbed, you turn off the water and step out into a cloud of steam. It’s impossible to see your reflection in the mirror, but you think… You think if you looked into it, you’d see someone you’re not familiar with. You feel different. It isn’t because you’re having sex. It’s who you’re having sex with. You still can’t wrap your head around it.

After drying off, you wrap your towel around your head then make your way back to your room. Every light is off now. Marco must have come out and seen your purse and keys on the counter and turned them all off. You settle into your room, try to relax after such a busy night, but it’s hard. Zeke’s hoodie is still hanging off your closet door, his copy of Paradise Lost on your chest-of-drawers. Even if you wanted to get him out of your head, you wouldn’t be able to.

And, the last, slim possibility of that happening is wiped away entirely when your phone buzzes on your nightstand with a text message, an unknown number displayed. There are only two lines:

Sleep tight

and a link to Spotify.

#mels deflowered #zeke jaeger x reader #zeke yeager x reader #aot x reader #snk x reader #i still have this spotify playlist

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