#zeke valentine | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jjkeremika · 9 months ago

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Valentine

description: AoT men and women asking you to on a valentine's date <3

pairing: Levi; Armin; Jean; Erwin; Eren & Mikasa; Historia; Zeke; Reiner x reader

Levi

Levi stood at your apartment door with flowers and concert tickets to your favorite band. He shifted his weight between his heels and toes as he nervously wondered if he should turn back before you realized he had arrived.

Two solid knocks and a light pause later, you opened the door to his stoic demeanor, his lips relaxing into a smile at the sight of you in comfy clothes. He briefly glanced down to his ratty jeans and aged leather jacket. “Hey,” he greeted after clearing his throat, regretting his appearance. He felt he should've dressed up for you.

“Levi, hey!” you returned excitedly, about to pull him in for a hug when you noticed the flowers in his hand. You didn’t comment on them. “What are you doing here? Oh! Come on in!”

You dragged him by his forearm inside, closing the door behind you. “Oh, I was just,” he said quietly, shrugging, “around. And,” Levi lifted the flowers, shifted the weight between his feet. “I saw these and thought of you.”

“Awh, Levi, they’re beautiful!” You eagerly took the flowers from him, brought them to your nose for a long sniff. “Thank you.” You hugged him with one arm before pulling away and rushing to your kitchenette. “Let me just get a vase. Make yourself comfortable as always.”

He followed you to the kitchen, stood awkwardly in the doorway and tried to not blatantly gawk at your figure as you bent over to search the cabinets for the vase.

“I, uh, also saw that Linked Horizon are coming on the fourteenth. Did you s—?”

“Oh my god, yeah!” you exclaimed, hopping up from your position in the cabinet, the ornate glass in your palms. “I saw that!” You filled the glass with water and a spoon of sugar. “But I never bought tickets and now it’s sold out.”

Levi rubbed the papery tickets against each other in his pocket. He watched as you used shears to cut the bottoms off the stems. He pulled his hand out of his jacket pocket.

“Well, if you’re not busy that day…” You carefully dropped each stem in the water, rearranging the flowers and tossing the fallen leaves and petals. He stepped into the room, drawing your attention, and held the two tickets openly. “I’d like to go with you.”

Armin

Working at the library was honestly one of your favorite parts of the day. It was slow, mindless, relaxing, and quiet. The ambiance was kind, and any sour moods evaporated instantly once you entered those archaic arched doors.

Since it was a library, you didn’t really speak with your coworkers beyond necessity, but the blond boy who spent his time at the admin desk always caught your attention—and he was always already looking to you.

The two of you spoke in an unintelligible morse code, an unspoken language of wordless greetings and longing thoughts and lingering stares.

When you both started speaking, it was by bonding over a love of puzzles and logic traps. Armin and you shared stories of writing and interpreting ciphers and tricks, discussed possibilities of work-related games for entertainment.

On the twelfth, you started your shift with the return cart, and a large note in black ink stopped you from starting the task. For Y/N, please review the following, it read, proceeded by four rows each with four columns containing a decimal value and three numbers.

You recognized the decimal shorthand and spotted the books already on the return cart. You picked up the first one and reviewed the set of numbers, eventually determining it as indicators for the desired page number, line, and word.

Once you deciphered the message, you smiled and felt the warm flutter in your belly. You dragged the cart upstairs to the main entrance, stopped outside the administration room to see the familiar fluffy blond hair poking over the computer screen.

Wordlessly you entered and sauntered over to his desk, dropped the sheet of paper with the decoded message and your answer on his desk and left with a wink, leaving him with amazed wide eyes and an open jaw as you left the room.

Will you be my valentine?

—Yes x

Jean

Connie told him the traditional approach was stupid and uninteresting. “It’s y/n! They’re cool and fun and hilarious and awesome! You can’t do something unbelievably lame like you always do,” Connie had rambled in an eccentric voice that now haunted Jean’s thoughts.

“Fucking Connie,” Jean cursed to himself as he fixed his hair in the reflection of the window, trying to maintain his balance as the train rushed over unsteady tracks. He nervously glanced down at his watch, frantically grabbed the handlebar when the tram lurched to a stop.

Jean hopped off and rushed to the bar at which the two of you had decided to meet. He spotted you instantly, in the tight red fuzzy sweater vest and still perfectly fitting baggy jeans. He regretted his overly dressed up appearance with his matching suit and pink tie for somehow still lacking.

“Y/n,” Jean leisurely greeted with an eager grin and sparkling eyes, feeling his body warm up at the quick embrace you gave, “thank you for meeting me here.”

You gestured to the free seat next to you; he sat down. “Oh, Jean, it’s my pleasure,” you said with a smile, “thank you for asking me here.”

The conversation flowed naturally, and Jean felt himself warming up from your attention, the drink, or the room. He slid his jacket off and tugged on his necktie in a failed attempt to cool off.

You noticed the pink tint on his skin and the faint hitch in his breath. You noticed the awkward tugging on his necktie, that he was wearing a necktie at all. You noticed the smile he hid when you touched his arm with your long fingernails, when your thigh brushed against his.

As the night neared its end and he still hadn’t asked, the adrenaline rushed through his veins and he heard Connie’s cynical voice echo in his brain. He felt his stomach drop with each glance towards you, because he was convincing himself he couldn’t ask, couldn’t be worth more than nothing to you.

“I’d really like to see you again,” you hinted while you both stood on the pavement, “soon.” You felt the heat burning into your skull. The shocked expression on his face was tortuous. Maybe it was all in your head. Maybe that was too far.

Maybe it was far enough. “Y/n… would you maybe like to spend Valentine’s day with me?”

Erwin

You had visited the older instructor’s office to ask some questions on the class content, to seek some extra support on upcoming assignments.

Connie had told you Smith was the most helpful of the instructors, but you neglected to factor in the biceps the size of your head, the voice that was smooth like margarine, the eyes that stranded you alone at sea. His help was marginalized by his distracting features, by the concerned expression when he asks if you understand contrasting his brilliant smile and demeanor when you say yes.

And did it really matter if you only understood when it came from him?

His elbow bumped into yours as he leaned to the side, closer to you, to view your page. "Y/n," he started, his leg brushing against yours as he uncrossed his thighs and leaned back in the chair, the skin tingling in his touch's memory, "would it help to meet regularly?"

The question alone caught you by surprise, but paired with his heavy tone, thick with uninterpretable layers, and a curious expression with a piercing blue, watchful gaze. You barely heard him tap his foot over the blood roaring in your ears.

"We can start with an additional meeting on the..." Erwin trailed off, clicking through his online tabs to find the calendar. "The fourteenth." He punctuated his sentence with a click on the date, your eye catching the empty schedule as it appeared on the screen. He turned to you. "We can start then and take it from there."

"O-Okay," you agreed, nodding in sync with the faint throb in your pelvis as your brain reeled with the improbable. "Thank you." Your voice was quiet, and you barely heard yourself speak.

"Absolutely," he breathed out, "more than happy to help." He glanced you up and down, rested his chin between his thumb and fingers to hide his lips, his light blue eyes darkening. "I'll order us something to eat too."

Eren & Mikasa

Mikasa was scribbling your and her names in the corner of her notebook page, actively drawing the small heart around it, when Eren suddenly and loudly slid into the seat next to her, causing her to jump and draw a line through the doodle. She hid it with her palm.

Eren looked at her with a bold desperation in his eyes. “Mikasa, I’ve been thinking about asking y/n out for Valentine’s…” He rubbed the back of his neck and looked to the side sheepishly. “Do you have any ideas?”

Mikasa’s eyes widened. “O-oh,” she stuttered out, taking a half-breath to quell the unsettling feeling in her gut, “I, um.” She glanced to the palm covering the doodle. “I’ve been wondering the exact same thing actually…” She swallowed dryly. “With y/n, too…”

It’s not that she expected him to be upset, but she was surprised when his eyes lit up in a mix of excitement and relief. He perked up, straightened his spine and leaned towards Mikasa. “Let’s ask together! We can do, like, a three-person date.” He shrugged, tried to contain his eagerness. “I’m not against it. But I still have no fucking clue how to ask.”

You entered the room mid-sentence, both of their eyes focusing to you as you crossed the room to a desk. You glanced up from your phone to see both of them already looking at you, both smiling and waving immediately.

“Hey, babes,” you greeted the two of them, affectionately fixing the out-of-place strand of hair near Mikasa’s forehead. You turned to Eren and smiled wider at his eager anticipation. “I was addressing you too,” you clarified, rubbing his shoulder.

Eren leaned into your touch. “Do you have any Valentine’s plans?” Mikasa asked, playing with her pen. You spotted the heart near her hand.

You started to feel warm, flattened your lips to try to suppress the growing grin but eventually bit your bottom lip. “Not currently. Sounds like I might in a minute, though,” you responded with a wink, smiled wider at the light pink stretching across her nose.

Eren’s voice caught your attention, and you suddenly became aware of the arm he snaked around your waist under your backpack, noticed that your arm had slid along his shoulders, “Would you... want to spend it with us?” he asked nervously, before rushing out, “It doesn’t have to be a date, but, well—”

The heat settled in your stomach, and you felt your pulse in each body part. Your smile twitched at the question—at the implication.

“Yes,” you interrupted Eren’s rambling with a confident answer to a question you’ve never considered before, but now will never forget, “I’d love to spend it with you two. As a date.”

Historia

Ymir had the largest scowl on her face when Historia shyly walked over to you, a pink blush on her cheeks and a sweaty hairline. You shifted uncomfortably under Ymir’s gaze when your eyes flicked to the blonde girl standing in front of you, looking at the floor.

“Hey, y/n,” she started quietly, her cute, high-pitched voice singing in your ear, “how’s your day going?” She had a sickeningly sweet smile, one that made your stomach flip and turn with nerves. You felt your inhale cut short as she stared at you with big, rounded blue eyes.

"Good, thanks," you answered with a smile, “how’s yours?” You continued to pack your bag with your notebooks, ignoring the uncomfortable heat of Ymir’s bold glare.

“Better now,” she answered, a light rouge appearing on her cheekbones. The giddy feeling erupted in your gut and bubbled into a doey smile. “Do you have Valentine’s plans yet?”

You shook your head, tugging on the last zipper. “Nope,” you answered casually, unbothered by the notion of being single on the love holiday, “i’ll probably watch a movie at home.”

“Oh, good idea! I love movies!” Historia added, the grin taking up her face. “I..." The tips of her ears tinted pink. "I don’t have plans either." She rocked back and forth on her heels, clutched her notebook a little closer to her chest. "Would you want to watch a movie together?”

You corrected your posture and returned her soft gaze. "Yeah," you answered with an exhale, started to put your backpack on. "I'd really like that."

Zeke

Zeke haphazardly handed you the blunt, the leaflet threatening to slip from your fingertips and fall from the third story window. “Ze, careful,” you told the older man, rolling your eyes despite the smile lingering on your pursed lips, “you’re gonna’ make me drop it.”

He snorted, settling with an open mouthed smile. You watched the faint red appear around his cerulean eyes. “I can’t make you do anything.” He stretched his hand out, silently requesting the roll back.

You crossed your legs, took a long huff, then passed it over. Your fingers brushed against his, the light sensation tickling the skin for moments after. “If you hand it off wrong and I drop it, that’s your fault,” you explained simplistically, shrugging to emphasize the easiness of it all.

The smoke curled around his beard, followed the lines of the glasses resting on top of his head. He flicked the wrap, spent ash falling to the windowsill. “But I didn’t make you drop it,” Zeke retorted, blowing some residual smoke into your face. He chuckled as you closed your eyes and swatted the contaminant away.

“But you played a direct role!” You reached over and stole the blunt from him before he brought it between his lips; the blond man laughed as he let you take it, watched intently as you brought it to your own. “Wouldn’t have happened without you,” you mumbled with a long exhale, the picturesque smoke rolling off your tongue.

Zeke leaned against the wall, let his wrist rest against his knee, and tilted his head. His smile softened the longer he stared at you directing smoke and ash out the window. “I also play a direct role in asking if you want to have dinner with me on the fourteenth, but I can’t make you say yes.”

You looked out the window, suppressing the blushing grin by biting your lip. You affectionately rolled your eyes at his redirection. Not the same thing—like at all. “It’s different when you know I will,” you retorted, taking a hit and holding it until it burned, still avoiding eye contact.

“So… you will?” He eyed you carefully, handed the rest of the blunt to you and dropped his glasses onto his nose. “Say yes, I mean?” Zeke nudged your foot with his.

The roll slipped from your fingers as you focused on hiding your red cheeks and toothy grin behind your palm. “Well, obviously, yeah,” you answered sheepishly. You spotted the wrap on the wooden floor. “And see! You made me drop it!”

Reiner

You patted into the kitchen to find Reiner in front of the stove, steam rising from the pans as he shifted between items. You admired his bare back, the smooth, silky-looking skin intimately caressing tight, bulky muscles interrupted only by the thin linen apron straps.

The sudden noise of the espresso machine caused you to jump and squeal, which brought Reiner's attention to you. He hurried over, gave you a quick kiss to the cheek. "You weren't supposed to wake up yet," he murmured between more kisses, eventually pressing his lips to yours for a lingering lock.

"I can smell everything from the next room," you responded, lightly tapping his firm chest and kissing his lips again. He pulled away to attend to the aromatic contents on the stove. You sat on a bar stool. “Smells delicious, by the way.”

You saw the way his thin lips morphed into a pleased smile. “Should taste so, too,” he hummed his agreement, turned his back towards you for five more minutes. You indulged in the sight, feeling your own pupils dilate to take in more of his broad shoulders and tailored back.

Then he was making a lot of ruckus, rapidly opening drawers to find utensils and rushing to and from the fridge for toppings and ingredients. He was tossing food onto one plate and carefully aligning it on another.

You slipped off the stool to peak over, smiled at his concentrated brows and peaking tongue as he drizzled chocolate onto the dish.

You were right behind him when he turned around with the dish ostentatiously in his hands, his kind blue eyes sparkling with pride and excitement and anticipation.

You audibly gasped and brought your hands to your open smile. “Reiner! Wow!” you said astonished, hearing and feeling your stomach rumble with hunger at the sight of the heart-shaped pancakes with a chocolate lace drizzle, at the bacon and eggs and toast arranged on the side.

He waited for you to read the hidden message, the note written in jam on the toast. You giggled, took the plate from him to put on the counter, and embraced him. “I’d love to be your valentine,” you said with a long kiss.

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wellbehavedyeti · 2 years ago

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Happiness Looks Good On You

Tabletop orc OC’s collide Thrug/Zeke (Zeke belongs to @axelwarriorvs )

Zeke’s friends don’t believe he managed to find someone to join his book club, let alone DATE him. He takes Thrug to the gym to prove them wrong, events spiral from there. Zeke’s perspective. Also smut.

"Zeke, are you sure this is what I'm supposed to wear? These work-out shorts seem....short."

“That’s why they’re called shorts,” Zeke deadpanned without looking up.

He was busy with the last sheet of the comprehensive workout routine he was setting up for Thrug. Convincing him to go was just the first part. And even though he’d only did it so he could show Thrug off and convince his gym friends that he did, in fact, have a real boyfriend, Zeke found himself enjoying the process of getting said boyfriend prepared. Especially after he found out over Christmas that Thrug would wear just about anything he gave him. He got him some respectable attire of course, no taking advantage of him here. Though if the shorts he gave him happen to be a little too short, well…what a rare and fortuitous mistake for him.

Although now he had to keep his attention on the worksheet under his hands because a glance in Thrug’s direction, checking himself out in the mirror with a bloom of scarlet on his face and neck, nearly made him call the whole thing off and spend the night figuring out how he could get that blush to spread further. If he could get Thrug interested enough in this to come with him regularly he’d consider it a plus, and they couldn’t do that if he was hovering over his body trying to find all the ways to play his favorite instrument.

“Come on, we’ll be late,” he said after clearing his throat, closing and setting his books into a haphazard pile on whatever available space he could find. It wasn’t strictly true, they had plenty of time, but Zeke wanted to get there before any of his meathead friends did. That moment where they would walk in was prime show-off material.

“Yeah yeah, I’m coming.”

Thrug gave up trying to see his own rear in the mirror and grabbed his hat which did nothing to stop the constant wild bed of hair atop his head that always seemed to look like he’d just been ravaged. Or perhaps his hair looked like that because of his hat? Zeke hadn’t started that particular branch of research yet.

The gym was thankfully barren at this time of day. Not only did he not have to deal with a large amount of people but it also meant that there would be a clear line of sight to Thrug, who was staring at the folder of work-out notes Zeke had given him. There was something about his concentration face, brows so furrowed it made them look like one large ridge and his tongue pushing at a tusk, that always managed to grab his attention. Time seemed to shrink down until the world only contained the two of them as he showed Thrug how to use the machines, finding any excuse he could to touch him.

He almost missed when someone called his name and Zeke forced himself to forget the way Thrug would push back against his torso, turning to watch the pack of jocks that was The Gym Bros make their way in. They waved him down with meaty arms, strangely in tandem with each other as if they shared a single brain cell. There was evidence enough to uphold that theory.

“BRO!”

“Bro.”

“Bro?”

“Bro…”

“Bro!��

A series of one word sentences followed, The Gym Bros having entire conversations with a single syllable and the look on their face. An entire language that took Zeke a year to interpret. Enough for him to reply with a quieter “Bro,” and a polite almost-there smile he reserved for public situations.

“You’re early, Bookworm Bro!” The Bro in the lead declared happily.

“Had to get the jump on you and get the boyfriend started,” Zeke replied with a grin.

“Holy shit, you actually brought him?”

“Bro!”

“No shit, where?!”

Zeke motioned confidently in his boyfriend’s direction, grin growing slightly at the sight of Thrug handling the machine with all the grace of a boar in a china shop. His concentration face mixed with a healthy dose of resting bitch face which combined sent people in wide circles around him, afraid to get too close.

“What the hell?”

“There’s no way.”

“Yeah, there’s no way that’s your boyfriend, bro.”

“Probably just some random guy you brought along.”

“Yeah, that’s why he looks so pissed, bro.”

A cacophony of chuckles followed shortly after as Zeke turned around, indignant.

“Oh yeah!? I’ll fuckin’ prove it!”

With a huff he turned away from the pack of jocks and stomped over to where Thrug was checking the weight of the machine he was using. The druid looked up just in time for Zeke to wrap his hand around his neck and pull him in for a bruising kiss before he could even ask what was happening. The effect was immediate, lips parted to allow the scholar to dive in. He dominated him, tongue running over gums and teeth and the ridged roof of his mouth, bushing against the tusks that gently clacked together with every move of his lips. Thrug reached up to grasp at his shirt, tugging it down as he was left needy and wanting for more. Zeke’s hands traveled, one found its way under Thrug’s shirt, wrapped around his back and pushed him tighter against his body. The other grabbed a heaping helping of ass, kneading the flesh under too thin fabric until he could feel their arousal push against each other. Hard, the pressure so alluring that Zeke almost forgot he was in public. A display that would normally push at the edges of what he was comfortable with, but his stubborn need to win pushed drowned what anxiety it would normally cause to a whisper. Before long they both had to come up for air, parting with finger shaped bruises on Zeke’s skin and Thrug blushing so brightly one could swear he was born that way. The druids’ lips were bruised and kiss swollen, his eyes in a daze as he breathed deeply.

“Wh-what's happening? Was that a good set?” he asked in a blissed haze.

“Oh yeah,” Zeke said, “You’re doing great, babe.”

Thrug’s smile was so wide it made his ears wiggle as he turned to get back to the machine with that same look of determination he’d been so fond of.

He turned back to the pack of Gym Bros with the largest grin on his face and drank in their shocked faces.

“DUDE!”

“Bro! You weren’t fuckin’ kiddin’!”

“Well shit. That settles it, bro. You have to bring him to the New Years party…” followed by a series of affirmations, most of which boiled down to ‘Hell yeah!’. Zeke’s smug grin had turned back to a pair of wiggling ears launching into his next workout with even more enthusiasm. A kind of solid heat settled in his chest that he chalked up to watching Thrug bend over in shorts much too short for him to pick up the weights, along with a second undefined thing that begged for attention. But before he could examine it too closely a heavy hand on his shoulder pulled him out of his mind and back into the fresh air of his victory.

“Seriously, bro. Y’all have to come!” his friend insisted, and Zeke found himself nodding before the rest of the conversation solidified in his head. “Great!”

When the words finally registered in his head the Gym Bros had already migrated to their respective work outs. Zeke groaned quietly, kicking himself for not paying better attention. He’d rather not go at all, but he already agreed and one night of social discomfort was preferable to the weeks, if not months, of joyful ribbing the Bros would give him if he backed out now. His eyes wandered back over to his boyfriend, smirking at the way his legs were crossed, knowing that Thrug had noticed his erection and was waiting for it to die down. Maybe if he convinced him, the New Years party wouldn’t be so bad.

—

“No. No, absolutely not.”

Zeke figured he’d try to convince him on the way home, he had it all laid out and Thrug was having none of it, as he expected.

“That sounds awful. A whole night at a party with the roving pack of meatheads?” he continued, his resting bitch face quickly moving into an active one.

“They’re not all meatheads,” Zeke supplied defensively.

“Aren’t they the ones who laughed at you when you asked them to join the book club?”

“To be fair, they thought I was telling a joke.”

Thrug stared back at him silently, waiting for that sentence to connect. Zeke sighed and shook his head.

“Okay, yeah the meatheads. But I promised I would go and it would suck way less if you came with me,” he continued, pleading with his eyes now to supplement his words. Thrug looked unconvinced. In fact he started to get that look on his face that Zeke recognized as the offer of sexual favors to get out of an argument. It’s how he got out of Zeke’s Dragon Ball Z marathon.

“They have a dog!” he offered quickly, which made the look on his partner’s face change considerably. Hell yeah, Zeke thought, get him with the animals. And like he thought, Thrug eventually sighed and nodded.

“Alright, I’ll go.”

Zeke actually cheered in victory, moving behind Thrug to wrap his arms around him as he planted a huge, wet kiss on his cheek. “Thanks, babe!,” he whispered in his ear, hands bunching up the legs of the short shorts as they walked, “How ‘bout we finish what we started when we get home, huh? Show you how much I liked seeing you in the gym.”

He felt the blush before he could see it, his hand sneaking inside Thrug’s shorts as the druid nodded rapidly. He’d make it worth his while.

—

“I regret everything,” Thrug muttered in such a resonating way that Zeke couldn’t help but nod in agreement.

They stood together staring up at what appeared to be a normal, every day, suburban home. But they could feel the thrumming of the music playing inside from the front lawn, which was littered in various detritus. The Gym Bros all lived here together, living out their college days in wasteful merriment day after day.

At the very least the roving pack of jocks seemed to want everyone they met to be as content and carefree as they were. Zeke wasn’t absolutely sure how they did it, and in some small way envied the ease at which it came to them. The harsh tones of his father’s “advice” began to ring in his head. He shook it to drown them out, unwilling to make tonight worse than it needed to be. Thrug’s hand held him firmly in the moment, tucked in the cup of his palm like for all the world it belonged there, for which he was thankful.

“An hour, tops,” he explained quietly while leading his boyfriend by the hand towards the porch, “By then they’ll be too drunk to remember we left.”

Once they were inside, however, Zeke suddenly wondered if an hour might be a bit much. A wave of beer, weed, and axe body spray washed over them as the door opened and an unbearable heat permeated the place. The music’s dull thrum had turned into a cacophony of a clearly overtuned bass equalizer.

Before Zeke could turn around and decide that a week of ribbing was worth missing this party, he was enveloped in a cage of muscle, sweat, and joyful (and loud) affirmation.

“Yo, dude! You came! BROS! HE CAME!”

The resounding cheer that followed nearly knocked the breath out of him. How could they be this excited that Zeke came to a stupid party? The question would remain unanswered as he was finally released from his entrapment only to find that the mass of man had rounded on Thrug.

Despite how uncomfortable he knew it must have been for him, Zeke couldn’t help but grin and stare at the bloom of blush upon Thrug’s skin. Which only intensified when the Gym Bros had gathered and began to tease them, thanking the druid for his existence because Zeke would never have come otherwise so he must be the determining factor. A statement that began to roll the cogs in Zeke’s head but he wasn’t allowed to dwell on that too long as they were tugged into the main parlor.

Drinks were shoved into their hands and they had meatheads take up stations on either side of them on a couch that had clearly had enough of large men sitting upon it and given up on supporting anything.

Zeke immediately began sipping from his drink, counting a personal victory that he didn’t cringe at the taste of the concoction they’d made. Normally he wouldn’t drink anything handed to him but the Gym Bros had long since proven that they had no nefarious purpose. Just idiotic well meaning party vibes.

He looked over and saw Thrug eyeing his own drink with trepidation and smirked. He provided a gentle nudge to get his lover’s attention and nodded when he looked up, assuring him it was safe. In part because it was, but also because he was curious what Thrug was like with a little alcohol in him. Several months together and he’d never seen him drink a drop ever.

Thrug, who was slowly sinking into the cushions, gave Zeke a look before offering a shrug and taking a sip of the swill inside the red plastic cup. The following grimace was enough to make Zeke chuckle, but immediately afterwards when a meaty hand collided with Thrug’s back and caused him to chug more than he was prepared to drink at once.

“There you go, bro! Whoa, easy, don’t breathe it in!” the jock warned while Zeke saw to Thrug, unable to stop his laughter and worry at the same time.

When it became apparent that the druid would be fine, his worry ebbed and the liquor proved loosen Thrug up a bit. The effect was nearly immediate, little rosy spots blooming on his cheeks. Zeke watched him intently as he drank more, nodding in encouragement any time his lover looked at him. He was curious, and resolved to see where this would lead and gave him an excuse to turn down any drinks as the designated driver, now.

It didn’t take long, by the second drink, Thrug was one of the Gym Bros. Participating in beer pong, succumbing to the allure of karaoke and belting out a love song that earned Zeke more than a few jabs in the ribs, and even managed to vanish from his site for a split second only to return wearing a bedsheet as a toga. The latter of which caused a loud chant of “TOGA TOGA TOGA” as bro after bro stripped on the spot and donned whatever bed sheets they could find.

Such displays normally would have Zeke slowly edging for the door. But to his surprise, he found himself playing along. If only a little. With Thrug there, none of it grated on his nerves as much as it normally would.

Before he knew it they had been there for three hours, seated across the den with a new glass of water as he watched Thrug squatting to be face level with the dog the bros collectively took care of.

“Bro, your boyfriend is so drunk he’s talkin’ to the dog,” The largest bro said, dropping on the sofa so hard Zeke nearly spilled his drink from the jostle.

“That’s normal for him,” he said flatly, checking for wet spots on the fabric, “The dog was actually how I convinced him to come.”

Just as he was satisfied he hadn’t spilled a drop, his friend nudged him with his beefy arm and knocked half his drink out of his glass anyway.

“Dude!” Zeke started in, turning towards the jock but found a knowing smile pinning him on the spot, “Wha-”

“He’s good for you.”

“Who, Thrug? I-” Zeke started, but the bro cut him off.

“No seriously, bro. I seen you watching him all night and, yeah, that’s good lookin’ out right? But also you would have left waaaaay before now normally and just been a grumpy doofus all night,” he continued, wrapping that same arm around Zeke and pulling him into a one-armed hug, “Plus I’ve never seen you smile before. Ever. Smirk? Yeah. Sneer? Definitely. But with him you smile. It’s nice, bro.”

Zeke stared up into his friend’s face, bewildered at the sudden wisdom of the meathead. Heat washed over him as his own blush flooded his face, eyes finding the figure of his lover. Thrug was occupied with placing a pair of earmuffs made out of plants over the dog's ears and Zeke couldn’t stop the smile that marked his face.

“See, bro!” The jock cheered, unwinding his arm from Zeke at the slightest hint of resistance, “It’s like come fairytale shit!”

Zeke winced at that, though his smile didn’t completely fade. Thrug at this point had joined the dog in howling some melody he couldn’t recognize. Clearly he had to get his boyfriend home before he did something he’d regret. He was surprised at the lack of joyful teasing when the words “I should probably get him home” left his mouth, instead coordinating with the cognizant Bros to convince Thrug it was time to leave and helped them to the car. For the first time he could recall, Zeke left a social event with a lingering warmth he’d examine later.

Aside from an incident through a drive thru where Thrug had climbed across Zeke’s lap to hang out the driver window and shout an order, the ride home was thankfully uneventful. The same could not be said on the way up to the apartment.

Drunk Thrug was an unruly force of nature. With nothing else to distract him, his clothes nearly abandoned before they got to the elevator, his hands grasping at places Zeke would definitely appreciate more behind closed doors. Doors it took longer and longer to get to as he dragged his boyfriend carefully along. .

“Weeeee should, go aaaaaaaaaaaaaaall theway,” Thrug slurred, having given up on his own stubborn clothing and begun investigating how best to rid Zeke of his own. “Y’know? We should…should do that.”

Zeke stopped in his tracks for a moment, Thrugs words seeping into his body sending warmth and blood to his core which was now very much on board with the druid’s attempt to release it from its confines. His brain recognized what his lover meant by that, the implications involved, screaming the news to his heart which leapt in his chest. But the stench of alcohol put the breaks on everything, giving Zeke the focus he needed to push forward and tug his pants up.

“Yeah,” he agreed, throat a little dry but he knew he’d have to wait for Thrug to sober up to talk about that. Make sure he knew what he was doing, not floating down a river of liquor and poor life choices.

“Yeah, yeah,” he started again with a clear throat, finally having enough of this squirmy asshole and lifting him over his shoulder as easily as one would carry a sack of potatoes, “I’m real tired though, you know? We should do it in the morning.”

“Oooooh! You’re so right, baby. You’re so smart. The smartest ever,” Thrug hiccupped behind him, doing neither of them any favors as he openly groped at Zeke’s backside.

Eventually they made it to the door, a small seed of relief settling in the scholar’s chest. The door swung open to familiarity, cozy and made just for him. Or, them, now he realized as he set Thrug down in a nearby chair and locked out the rest of the world with a turn of the key. He hadn’t noticed until now just how much of Thrug’s presence had taken over the place. All of which were small additions that Zeke had come to think of fondly without realizing it. Not least of which, the very man who put it there…and was currently pulling Zeke’s pants down.

Getting ready for bed luckily wasn’t nearly as tedious as getting into the apartment itself, and once Zeke was naked Thrug was a lot more cooperative. The larger orc couldn’t help but smirk and soak in the attention like sunlight for his ego. He wanted to wash the smell of party off of both of them, but decided that would also be best left in the morning when Thrug was no longer inebriated and trying to convince him the non-orc half of him was some sort of goblin. Instead they settled into bed, the druid tucked into his side as they let the dark blanket them. Zeke wrapped his arm around his lover, sighing softly while he waited for sleep to take him.

It felt as though he had just begun to drift off to sleep when he felt himself being gently shaken. A single eye pulled open, blinking while it adjusted to the dark.

“Zeke, you awake?” came Thrug’s voice, now without the sting of liquor carried on his breath. Maybe it had been a few hours after all.

“I am now,” he grumbled, shifting to look out the window. The moon was still high in the sky, shining into their bedroom.

“Sorry, I couldn’t sleep. I…” Zeke’s eyes turned back to the moment at hand, curious.

Thrug shifted on the bed, moving himself closer and running a hand up Zeke’s torso, threading his fingers through his chest hair because the scholar secretly liked it.

"I was serious, you know..."

Thrug whispered into the silvery dark, his voice impossibly soft. As though if he said it too loudly he'd wake up from whatever dream he found himself in. It made something in Zeke's chest jump as he looked down into eyes that stared back. Watching. Waiting. That little jumping bean in his chest pulled his limbs into motion and before he could register what the swelling in his gut meant his lips found Thrug's, the moonlight banished behind closed eyelids and a sudden waking need to have every inch of that body connected to his.

He situated himself over Thrug’s body like they’d done so many times before, foreheads resting together as they shared the same air. It wasn’t at all how he thought this would go. Zeke had done the research, he knew the first time should be on all fours because it was easier. But he wanted to see Thrug’s face. Had to.

His cock twitched happily, already leaking as his hips drew forward, sliding wetly against Thrug’s weeping length. They groaned together at the contact, Zeke reaching down to take both of them in hand while he rocked forward.

“Remember our first time?” he muttered quietly, nipping at the line of Thrug’s jaw. The air filled with the slick sound of their cocks sliding against each other and the druid’s moans.

“Shit, Zeke…I-”

“Yeah.”

Even in the dim moonlight he could see the blush bloom, darkening his partner’s skin across his nose and creeping down his cheeks onto his chest. Zeke paused to stare at the pull of his lips against his teeth. He needed more. He smirked, nudging against Thrug’s skin with his nose as he moved down his body.

“Ah, f-fuck,” Thrug’s breathy voice like a loudspeaker in the quiet of their room, lifting in octave when Zeke turned his attention to his nipples. Tongue dragging over it before his teeth grazed the raised nub, all the while he watched and committed the druid’s face to memory. Thick arms shifted, pulling Thrug’s legs up and apart, spreading his lover out for him like the feast he was.

Further and further down Zeke traveled, running through his lists and diagrams as he pulled moan after groan out of Thrug. Touching those special places, rubbing him a certain way, dragging his tongue along his cock in the same manner one would play an instrument.

“Zeeeeeeke,” Thrug whined, his hands in Zeke’s hair. The tugs were gentle, even as the scholar suckled on the tip of his engorged member just so he could watch his facial expressions. “Zeke, please! Need you…!”

There was a brief consideration to dip between his cheeks, pull more of these melodic notes out of the druid with his tongue. His own ignored length twitched angrily, eager to get inside and the thought was abandoned. Zeke was just as impatient.

He crawled back up his body, straddling over the half-orc’s chest, cock pressed against his face and leaving glistening streaks in its wake. But Thrug’s face turned not towards it, but the fingers Zeke offered and pulled them between his tusks.

Amber eyes never broke contact, holding Zeke captive. “Fuck, babe,” he encouraged quietly, moving his fingers against the wet heat and watching the pull of lips, somehow equally as alluring here as they were wrapped around his length. He reached out with his other hand, grabbing the bottle they kept by the bed and set it in the druid’s hand. Thrug followed his lead, popping the lid and gently applying a thick layer of lube along Zeke’s leaking cock. All the while never taking his eyes or his mouth away from his lover.

Thrug let loose a throaty moan when Zeke pulled his spit-soaked fingers free, sending a ripple through his body that traveled down his spine to his lubed up cock. It ached for more touch, more friction, but he held off. It was coming. But he had to make sure they were ready.

Passages of books, instructions he’d read, videos watched replayed in Zeke’s head while his thick, spit-slick finger ran up and down, circling his entrance.

Zeke hummed, leaning forward to offer a gentle kiss. “Ready, babe?”

Thrug nodded quickly, reaching down to grasp his abandoned cock too eagerly as he hissed, “Pleaaaase.” His eyes close as Zeke’s finger pushed passed the ring of muscle.

“You’re so tight,” he said, working the finger in and pushing in a second with the practiced ease of someone well versed in this body.

He pushed his partner’s legs further apart, while his own hulking body made a home between them. His hand joined Thrug’s around his length, in part to anchor himself and in part to pull more of those life-giving noises from his lover. Mewling and sweet, they grew in volume into mouth watering moans as his fingers pushed their way inside and worked to spread him open. They’d done this part before, of course. Many times over, one particular evening came to mind where Zeke decided to pull Thrug apart by the seams until well into the night. Familiar and exhilarating all at once, every time.

By the time he’d reached the third, twisting and rubbing against that bundle of nerves that had the druid shouting and his cock beliver another burst of precome, Thrug had reduced himself to a being of sensation, clutching at Zeke’s arms so hard they would leave bruises before a final, breathy “I’m ready, Zeke, I’m ready! Fuck me!” broke through his lips.

Zeke dove in to swallow the whimpering moan that escaped Thrug when he pulled his fingers out and lined up his swollen cock with his rim. The druid nodded when he felt the swell of the cock head press against him, then enter. A gasp escaped him, Zeke all too happy to capture it for himself before he leaned back on his haunches.

For the first time that night, his eyes were torn from Thrug’s face to watch where they connected. Eyes trained on the way his cock slid slowly inside and watching, feeling his lover stretch around him. Inch by solid inch he was swallowed, until the messy nest of his hairs pushed flush against Thrug’s rear. There he stayed, buried to the hilt as Zeke tried to catch his breath. And then came the squeeze, Thrug tightening down against him like a vice.

“N-No, don’t! FUCK! Don’t, don’t do that,” he cried in his own desperate tone, overwhelmed for just a moment. For the longest time, neither of them moved. And then Zeke pulled out slowly, relishing the drag of his cock against Thrug’s inner walls and the mewling groans that came with them.

He set a pace, slow and focused. Staring down and watching himself inter and leave his lover over, and over again. He could do this for an eternity, watching the way his body gripped at him. The way his cock glistened before pushing back in. “I wish you could see this,” Zeke breathes, making a mental note to convince Thrug to let him do just this for hours sometime. Maybe record it. For science.

But tonight was not that night, not the way Thrug’s legs had hooked around his waist. Heels dug into the dimple above his ass, pushing, urging him onward. How was he to deny that?

Suddenly Zeke is much closer, having dropped onto his forearms so they are chest to chest, already devouring Thrug’s moans with a kiss. His legs pushed him up, his ass raised into the air. And all the wonderfully flowery words that were floating around in his head for this moment blur into nothing as he started to move in earnest. Each thrust, each loud smack of their skin against skin, the steady ‘thwack’ of his balls against Thrug’s ass driving him onward. Faster. Harder.

He finally relinquished Thrug’s lips, traveling lower to bury his face in his neck. To nibble at the skin, his tusks pressed so firmly there he was sure to leave bruises. But he needed to leave more. More evidence of tonight. The druid’s moans filled the air, loud and broken with each brutal push. Thrug’s fingers curled, dragging against Zeke’s back with an intensity that would leave a mark for days.

This had to be what bliss was, Zeke thought, sweaty and growling. He bit down as Thrug let loose a garbled “I’m coming!” and felt the way his partner clamped down on him repeatedly through his orgasm for he felt the warm spill between them. The druid’s face turned, biting firmly but gently against Zeke’s neck as he rode out his climax. And still Zeke kept fucking him. Immensely proud that he was able to pull that from him first but now chasing his own. It did not take long with Thrug’s pulsing walls before the blinding pleasure overtook him, burying himself to the hilt and emptying himself deep inside his lover.

They stay there for several long moments, pressed as close as they can possibly be, Zeke rocking slowly into Thrug while coming down from the physical high. He pulled his face back enough to line their foreheads up again, pressing lazy kisses against Thrug’s lips. The druid’s hands cupped his face, thumb tracing every line, every ridge it could reach.

“That was…wow,” Thrug was the first to speak, out of breath and smiling broadly.

“Yeah? Was it awesome enough?” Zeke said, grinning.

“Yeah, yeah. It was so awesome,” Thrug said back, laughing softly.

Zeke pulled away again, but only just enough so he could watch himself pull out of Thrug, earning him a whimpering moan in the process. “Oh, shit yeah,” he crooned, going in for another kiss, “One more question.”

“Hmm?”

“You wanna do that again?”

Thrug laughed, deep and from his chest as he nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, fuck yeah I want to do that again.”

“Cool. Give me like, fifteen minutes,” Zeke said and rolled over onto his back, pulling Thrug on top of him.

“Zeke?” Thrug asked after a quiet moment.

“Hmm?”

“What do you want out of life?”

The question hit him like a ton of bricks, settling something strange in the bottom of his gut that was making his slowly rebuilding erection falter, “Damn, Uhh... I dunno. This is pretty good."

"This is pretty great, yeah. I just wondered if there was anything more you wanted to do. What you wanted to be."

"Hmm. I just wanna do things I like, you know? I never really thought much past that,” he all but whispered, staring up at the ceiling in thought. And yet Thrug’s warmth remained, Zeke’s arm pulling tightly around him, “At some point even this much seemed unlikely."

"Live in the moment. Hmh,” Thrug said thoughtfully, “Hold nothing back. Wild."

Zeke smirked, and asked, "You got any grand plans figured out for your future?"

Thrug looked up at him, because of course he did. No matter the situation Zeke always ended up nearly a head higher than him, which meant he always had the high ground. A benefit of being so bloody tall.

"Nah," he sighed, content, "Turns out what I was looking for ended up being here." The druid’s eyes turned back towards the ceiling, “The rest I'll figure out as we go."

Zeke watched him, allowing himself to feel the wave of warmth at those words instead of setting them aside to analyze later. For once. He rolled over the druid, earning him a giggle as he went in for a kiss and clutched at his lover. As it turned out, he didn’t need to wait the full fifteen minutes after all.

#ORCS!#Ship: Zug #Ship: Zeke #Officially short story length #tw: smut #Friends to lovers trope #This took so long @_@#Happy Valentine's Day?

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