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sillyhanako · 8 months ago

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꒰꒰🥞﹒BAKING COOKIES FOR MY LOVE I STIR AND MIX !﹕୨୧

꒰꒰﹒SYNOPSIS : A man-child of a customer visits the small local bakery that you owns. And every time he visits he orders the same order, plus his energetic nature he's starting to give you a headache. However, as his visits become a regular thing, you begin to find the man-child rather endearing. and the feeling is mutual .

꒰꒰﹒PARRING : pre-relationship umemiya x reader

꒰꒰﹒CONTAINS : two idiots in love, one of them in denial, sunshine x grumpy trope, sun x moon trope

꒰꒰﹒sfw // 2.4k wc

꒰꒰﹒notes : omg this took 3 long days to make 😭 kudos and reblogs are appreciated!! This is my first time making a oneshot 0-0 i hope its not too bad.. reminder: english is not my first language!!

It was 8:12am . The sun was shining brightly, bathing the world in its warm embrace. The gentle breeze was cool and refreshing, providing a much-needed respite from the stifling summer heat. The trees stood tall and proud, gently swaying in the wind as the birds sang their sweet melodies. In the distance, children were on their way to school, chatting among themselves.

You were on your way to open your bakery, a small business you started last year in makochi, a chill town. It was enveloped in a sense of tranquility, the absence of cars making the air still and peaceful.The stillness of the town provided a refreshing change from the constant honking and traffic noise that filled your last location.

As you step into the bakery, the first thing that catches the eye is the warm brown and beige color palette that dominates the space. The walls are painted a soft beige, and large brown shelves are stacked with an array of freshly-baked breads and pastries. The floor is tiled in a soft brown and tan pattern, and the countertops are made of light brown wood.

Large potted fiddle leaf fig plants stand tall in each corner of the space, their deep green leaves providing a stark contrast to the light beige walls. Trailing ivy hangs from the shelves, its delicate leaves adding a sense of wildness to the otherwise cozy atmosphere. Smaller pots of succulents and cacti are scattered throughout the space, their prickly texture and bold shapes adding visual interest to the soft color palette.

After putting on your work uniform, which contains a tucked in white button up with a brown chest pocket, and then over that a brown waist apron, you started cleaning the counter of any dust, and shorty you brought out the chairs from the storage room, they're made of a sturdy wood, and are padded with soft beige cushions to make them more comfortable. The tables are a lighter wood, round in shape, and are surrounded by two padded seats each.

Shortly after the opening, customers begin to come in for breakfast. Some asked for Black Coffee, some for a Latte, and others a Cappuccino. Often paired with stacked pancakes with cream in between and a strawberry on top, waffles coated in honey and blueberries or chocolate and banana slices layered between soft crêpes.

The afternoon passed by in a flash, and as the clock ticked with every second passing, you suddenly realized it had turned to 4:32pm. Occasional customers had swung by the pastry shop for a quick purchase, only to then continue onwards with their day almost as quickly as they had appeared.

And its seems that your regular has chosen this very time to patronize the pastry shop.

With a childish joy, your regular, a tall and gangly man with white hair, once again invaded the comfortable silence of the bakery. His presence sent a shiver of annoyance through you. How could he be such a disruption so often? It was honestly getting ridiculou--

" [name]-CHAAAN " With a childish joy, your regular, a tall and gangly man with white hair, once again invaded the comfortable silence of the bakery with slamming the door. His presence sent a shiver of annoyance through you.

"You look as beautiful as always!" He barged in, as usual, with an energy that could rival a hyperactive child. But this time, he wasn't alone. Who were these people he had brought along? You hadn't seen them around the bakery before. And by the look of them, they were just as loud and boisterous as your regular.

Much to your annoyance, Umemiya had brought with him a sizable group of companions. They wasted no time, immediately starting to rearrange the seating into a circular formation. To your surprise, you recognized the group as the so-called protectors of the town, Bofurin. You weren't pleased that they, too, were causing a ruckus in your bakery.

You raised an eyebrow as you looked at Umemiya and his group of companions. In mock surprise, you remarked, 'You actually have friends, Umemiya? I thought only Hiragi could put up with your antics.' With the menu in hand, you prepared to take their order, albeit begrudgingly

Umemiya laughed at your comment, clearly not bothered by it in the slightest. His companions chuckled amongst themselves, amused by your words. “Oh, you wound me!” he retorts, putting his hand over his heart in faux hurt. “And here I thought you enjoyed my company!” he grins, clearly enjoying the banter. “And of course I have friends! I’ll have you know that they’re not as uptight as that stick in the mud Hiragi.” "what did you just call me??"

After handing the group the menu he came back to where you were standing, wiping a plate.

"so i'll get a-" "1150." "I didnt even order yet-" "one thousand one hundred and fifty yen. pay up." "wait um let me get a a large matcha-" "yes yes yes! A large matcha shortbread cake, frosted with a light and fluffy pastry cream and topped with fresh, plump blackberries, an iced matcha latte, extra sweet, with some whipped cream on top. And an extra shot of espresso to the latte!! stop playing Hajime Umemiya." "woah how did you know i was going to get that??" "you're the only person in this town that enters saying 'yahoo!' At 4:32pm !! And i can smell that old t-shirt you've been wearing for 3 years."

" did i begame a regular here to the point you memorized my order? " he grinned, pulling out his thin, long wallet. " please. You come here almost everyday. "

While Umemiya laughed and joked with you, some of his companions were watching the interaction with playful stares. One of them with sharp blonde hair couldn't help but comment under his breath, 'How are his teeth keeping up with all that sugar??' The rest of them chuckled amongst themselves, clearly amused by the thought.

Even though the banter and teasing from Umemiya and his friends could occasionally be annoying, there was no denying that these moments were often the high point of your day. The lighthearted atmosphere he brought with his visits always lifted your spirits, making the work a bit more bearable, even if just for a moment.

You efficiently prepared the orders for Umemiya and his friends, making sure each one was made according to their specifications. You then handed them over to your barista, a fellow employee at the bakery, who took charge of serving the customers. She took the orders and skillfully moved through the bakery, delivering the pastries and drinks to the table where Umemiya and his companions were seated.

Your co-worker, a cheerful and energetic individual, their smile and easygoing nature made them popular among the customers, you honestly wanted someone more calm and collected to work with you, but oh well. She quickly engaged with Umemiya and his companions, bringing an even more lively atmosphere to the already bustling eatery.

Your eyes narrowed slightly as Umemiya's voice rose above the din, engaging in a lively conversation with your co-worker. His talkative nature was evident as he eagerly joined in, his boisterous laughter occasionally cutting through the air. You felt a strange feeling in your chest, a mix of annoyance and something you couldn't quite place, at the sight of the two chatting so comfortably.

Umemiya was known to be talkative, and you had no doubt that he would quickly become the center of attention in any conversation. His infectious energy and charismatic personality often made him the star of the show, overshadowing others around him. You knew this would be a long interaction... and you didnt like that.

You shook off the strange feeling and forcefully turned your attention back to the task at hand. You busied yourself with reorganizing the utensils and wiping croissant crumbs off the countertop in a futile attempt to distract yourself. The clattering of silverware and scrubbing of the crumbs filled the air, providing a temporary respite from the conversation happening behind you. Yet, the sound of Umemiya's infectious laugh still managed to seep through, an incessant reminder of the interaction unfolding nearby.

your heart clenched, felt a pang of jealousy and a wave of possessiveness washed over you, surprising you with its intensity. However, this feeling of jealousy was unfamiliar, and you couldn't fully understand it. You were perplexed, torn between wanting to intervene and knowing you had no right to. The mixture of emotions left you in a state of confusion, wrestling with your unexpected feelings of jealousy.

Umemiya was just a noisy regular, nothing else. right? He just orders his complicated order, eats it, and leaves. no way you would catch feelings with that little interraction? yes that must be it. you're just confused with yourself. Nothing serious. The feeling will go away surely...right?

The setting sun sent golden rays filtering through the windows of the bakery, bathing the interior in a warm and inviting glow. The gentle orange hue cast a peaceful atmosphere over the space, creating a cozy ambiance that seemed to welcome the evening. As your co-worker gathered the empty plates and cups, the friends were finishing up the last of their drinks and pastries, preparing to depart. They thanked your co-worker for their service, bidding them farewell as they got up from their seats.

Umemiya approached you with a carefree smile on his face, his usual boisterous attitude apparent. He handed over the payment for his friends orders, the bills slightly crinkled. The air was still filled with the lingering scent of freshly-baked pastries, and the soft chatter of customers in the background.

He leaned in to say, "Thanks, [name]." He said, with a playful wink. "You're the best!" Then, he turned to leave, joining his friends who were waiting by the exit.

You counted out the bills with practiced ease, making sure everything was in order. Then you placed them at the cash register.

You let out a sigh, "Those guys sure are a handful." You remarked, shaking your head in mild disbelief. "Especially Umemiya... always causing a scene whenever he comes in. I swear, I don't know what I'm going to do with that guy." "its not everyday we get such popular customers, right [name]-san?" she asked, placing down the empty food containers on the counter.

"care to elaborate?"

"well you saw their uniforms right?! those are student at Furin! The deliquent school! And who doesnt like tough independent handsome guys? people are fighting to get a chance with them too! and i might be one of them..." she fiddled with her hair, remembering the totally-her-type Furin boys that were patrolling some days ago.

You rolled your eyes, amused by your coworker's swooning. "Easy there, lovebird," you chuckled. "You're practically drooling." You teased. "Sure, those Furin boys might have a reputation, but don't get too obsessed. There's more to life than swooning over bad boys, you know?" You teased, giving her a playful nudge.

"Fancy coming from you [name]-san! With that undeniable romantic tension between you and Umemiya-san you should just kiss already! God its so obvious you're down bad for eachother," she scolded.

"I dont like him like that. Absolutely fucking not. What the hell? also don't you have work to do?" You were fuming, how can she accuse you like that? Some nerves this girl has.

"aye ayeee whatever makes you sleep at night boss!" she finally left you alone, face red with the thought of you and umemiya in a romantic relationship. thinking of it now it doesnt seem like a bad idea- wait what are you saying?

As night fell, the streets transformed into a mesmerizing canvas of light and life. The vibrant glow of the street lamps illuminated the sidewalks, casting soft shadows that danced with each passing motorcycle and pedestrian. Pedestrians ambled along, some with purpose and some aimlessly strolling, their laughter and voices creating a symphony of city life. The shops along the street were a kaleidoscope of colors - neon signs, shop windows, and the warm glow of restaurants all contributing to the urban nighttime beauty.

As you strolled down the street, your gaze lingered on the captivating designs of the various restaurants. You couldn't help but stop at grocery stores to purchase charming little snacks that caught your eye. The soft illumination from street lamps created a cozy atmosphere, and the lively hum of the city added to the soothing backdrop. After a few minutes of observing and sampling treats, you continue your journey towards your apartment, feeling a sense of contentment in this routine night-time ritual.

You were abruptly jolted from your thoughts as someone violently collided with you. Irritation flared up, but before you could even snap at the person, you found yourself face-to-face with Umemiya. Surprise replaced the frustration as you recognized the messy-haired troublemaker who frequented your bakery. A mix of emotions - irritation and begrudging familiarity - raced through you. God this could not get any worse.

"[name]-chan? I didnt know you were passing by this street today!" he exclaimed, seemingly happy to see you again.

"yeah me neither.. if you could just excuse me-" you tried slipping away from his grasp but-

"this is also my way to the orphanage! I'll walk you to your apartment like a true gentleman." He had a prideful aura around him but you just dismissed it and walked away.

"heeyy! wait for meee!!"

Umemiya rambled on and on, a never-ending torrent of thoughts and observations flowing out of his mouth at an astounding rate. It was almost as if his brain had an infinite capacity for information. You were stuck in the whirlwind of his conversation, listening to his constant flow of words and musings. It was a mystery as to how he was able to hold, yet alone recall, such a vast amount of random knowledge.

As you arrived at your apartment building, you finally managed to find an opening in the conversation to bid farewell to the endlessly-chatty Umemiya. You gave a tired wave, signalling your need for some peace and quiet. Despite the annoyance you felt towards his incessant chatter, there was an odd fondness underlying it, an acknowledgment of his unique character and his ability to make every interaction memorable.

"Wait! " he shouted, causing you to flinch a bit. "A-are you uh free... tomorrow?" "Are you asking me out?" "no. I mean.. yes, maybe as.. friends?" "i mean, i guess i am,but " in fact you werent. you were supposed to hang out with your friends at a shopping mall.

He made a quiet sound of celebration that you didnt ignore. "You're so cute." "What?" "I said you look like a sack of shit, goodbye."

ー﹕m.list﹐

#wind breaker x y/n #wind breaker x you #windbreaker (satoru nii)#windbreaker anime #windbreaker manga #umemiya hajime #umemiya hajime x reader #umemiya hajime imagines #windbreaker headcanon #windbreaker #wind breaker #windbreaker x reader #wind breaker headcanons #wind breaker x reader #wind breaker anime #wind breaker manga

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alizha · 7 months ago

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ｈｏｌｉｄａｙｅｎｎｕｉ

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

⁀➷ 𝗋𝖾𝗂𝗇𝖾𝗋 𝖻𝗋𝖺𝗎𝗇 𝗑 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 | 𝗆𝗈𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗇 𝖺𝗎

Word Count: 4.8k

Tags: SFW, no use of gendered pronouns, references to and depictions of anxiety and depression, kissing

Summary: You and Reiner have a meet cute at therapy, and you're both feeling afloat during the holidays.

❖ masterlist ❖ read on ao3

The waiting room outside Dr. Keller’s office still bears the cheerful remnants of Christmas, even though the holiday had already come and gone. You’re sitting in your usual chair near the corner, puffy coat hugged tightly around you. Truth be told, the festive decor meant to liven up the room only adds to your listlessness.

There’s nothing wrong with the place as it usually is. The corners and empty spaces of the waiting room burst with vibrant greenery, strategically placed, you suspect, by Dr. Keller herself to maximize patient contentment. You’ve been with her for two years now, so you have a sense for that sort of thing.

A tall fiddle-leaf fig tree stands proudly in the corner closest to you, its glossy leaves catching the soft light filtering in from frosted windows. Now, it’s adorned with twinkling multicolored lights that throw alternating cool and warm shadows on the sage-painted walls. They blink unwaveringly and silently, regularly changing patterns every minute or so, and you can’t help but feel sorry that they’re being wasted on someone who can’t appreciate them.

You’ve been in a bit of a rut since November, something of which Dr. Keller was well aware, of course. She assured you she’d be available through the end of the year, and you’d taken her up on that, keeping up with your weekly visits. At the beginning of the month, she asked you how your Thanksgiving went.

“It was fine,” you’d said. “Quiet. Just me and Elvira.”

“Ah,” she said, raising an eyebrow. “Your cat. Still not expanding your social circle, I see.”

You’d resented that. After all, Dr. Keller had told you to to start with things that feel comfortable. And Elvira is very comfortable. Cats didn’t judge, didn’t require any special considerations. They aren’t a challenge—not like people are. People are hard.

“We’re aiming for connections that talk back and don’t require kibble,” Dr. Keller had said flatly.

A big ask, but technically, you managed that the week before Christmas. You’d seen your next door neighbor, Mrs. Leary, when she was taking out her trash. She’d said Merry Christmas, and you said it back. Given the criteria set out for you, you’d say that counts.

You glance at the two doors at the far end of the waiting area leading to the therapists’ individual offices. Dr. Keller shared a space with another doctor, Dr. Madsen, whose names glinted on the brass plates adorning each door. You can practically already hear what Dr. Keller is going to say when you tell her about Mrs. Leary.

“It’s a start, but why not challenge yourself? Go beyond polite exchanges. Did you ask her how her holiday was?”

Sighing, you flit your gaze from the miniature pine tree twinkling at the edge of the low, rectangular coffee table topped with neatly arranged magazines, all holiday editions. Fixating on the strands of tinsel catching the light, each glimmer feels oddly louder than it should in the empty waiting room as you attempt to formulate an answer.

Your desperate clawing through the recesses of your mind for something more substantial than, “It just felt like too much,” is interrupted by the soft chime of the door. You glance up just in time to see him—tall, broad-shouldered, and blond. The man you’ve seen here at the office in passing many times before. One of Dr. Madsen’s patients, you’ve gathered in the time since you started noticing him.

Today, he’s dressed more casually than you’re used to, in a red flannel sherpa over a cream cable-knit sweater. In his arms, he’s juggling a navy backpack and several—maybe four or five—mini rose-gold foil gift bags. He looks even warmer and more approachable than in his usual business professional fare. It makes your stomach twist uncomfortably, a combination of envy and a familiar pang of fear, as he approaches the front desk with apparent ease.

“Morning, Lily,” he says pleasantly.

The secretary flashes him a dazzling smile. “Reiner! So good to see you. Did you have a nice holiday?”

You fidget with the hem of your coat. She didn’t make it sound so hard to ask. Maybe, you could do it, too. Maybe.

“It was fine,” the man—Reiner, you think to yourself—says, absently pushing the small potted succulent on Lily’s desk a smidge further away from the edge. “Quiet, just the way I like it. You?”

“Not quiet at all,” Lily says with a bell-like laugh. “Family chaos. You know how it is.”

“Lucky you,” he says with a faint smile. He adjusts the bags in his arms, pulling one carefully out of the pile by dainty ribbon handles and setting it on the secretary’s desk. “Just had to run into the office for a bit, and my coworker was handing these out. Take one off my hands?”

“Gladly!” Lily exclaims, her face lighting up all over again.

You can’t help but stare at the cheerful, gold-speckled tissue paper peering over the top of tiny curling ribbons. Until you realize Reiner has been glancing around the room, and his gaze has landed on you. Immediately, you look down at your lap, twisting your fingers together awkwardly.

“Still got decorations up, huh?” you hear Reiner say. “Festive.”

“Yeah, I keep meaning to take them down, but they’re so cheerful. Why the rush?”

There’s a shuffling of feet and paper, and you catch a glimpse of red out of the corner of your eye a few moments later. You tilt your head slowly and meet the man’s gaze again. He’s sidled past the coffee table and standing a couple steps away from you��a cautious, non-threatening distance.

“Hey,” he says with a disarming smile. “You… uh, want one of these?”

Your hands instinctively clasp over your knees, breath hitching. Plenty of other patients have tried striking up conversations with you in Dr. Keller’s waiting room before, but no one’s ever tried offering you anything. And it’s not really that you mind it’s just—

You’re no good with people. People are hard.

“Oh, no. That’s okay. I don’t—,”

“They’re just leftover office gifts,” he says carefully, taking a small step closer and holding one out toward her, thumb and forefinger gingerly pinching the sheer pink handle. The gift bag looks dainty and small and oh so endearing in his hand. “One of my coworkers went a little overboard. They mean well, though. Chocolate, I think. Or maybe soap? I honestly didn’t look too closely.”

You shake your head quickly, shrinking slightly. “No, really, I couldn’t—,”

“Please,” he says, his voice softening. “You’d be doing me a favor. Everyone at the office shoved these on me because they said I looked ‘too gloomy’ this season. Guess they thought this would help, but I wouldn’t know what to do with all this.”

His eyes, warm honey hazel, look just genuine and pleading enough to make you hesitate.

“You seemed… gloomy?”

He laughs lightly, a soft rumble of self-awareness. “I guess so. Anyway, I don’t need all these. Someone would enjoy them. I’m Reiner, by the way. And you’re…?”

You murmur your name in reply, barely audible, but he repeats it warmly all the same.

“Well, maybe you could take just one bag? You don’t even have to keep it—you could re-gift it if you want,” Reiner says. “But if I go through the trouble of lugging them all the way home on the bus, they’ll just sit on my kitchen counter until I forget about them.”

His kindness (and perhaps, his admittedly attractive face) placates your nerves just enough for you to extend a tentative hand. He looks pleased, placing the handle of the back in your grip. Warm fingertips gaze across your palm, his touch light and fleeting before quickly disappearing entirely. A shiver runs down your spine.

“Thank you,” you mumble, your cheeks warming.

“No, thank you,” he says with a grin. “Saved me from carrying these around the rest of the day.”

He looks around for a moment before moving to settle into the plush taupe chair beside the fiddle-leaf fig. You try not to look at him again, staring instead at the rose gold bag in your lap, plus still racing as you wait. When Dr. Keller finally emerges from her door and calls your name, you duck into her office and burn under the inquisitive look she gives you and your glittery new acquisition.

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

You’re relieved when you don’t immediately regret leaving your apartment on New Year’s Eve to walk down to the main strip. The street is in full holiday swing, bursting with life and swirling with laughter and music.

Walking at a leisurely pace, you take in the string lights crisscrossing above you, glowing in warm yellows and icy whites. The storefronts are still dressed in their seasonal finery, frosty-edged windows sparkling with fake snow and wreaths and glimmering ornaments. And up and down the walkways, food vendors lined the curb, their carts sending up fragrant plumes of spice and cocoa.

The crisp winter air bites at your cheeks, and you pull the sides of your knitted hat a bit further down over your ears as you reach the plaza at the end of the strip. A towering Christmas tree stands at its center, huge ornaments glinting under the twinkling of a thousand multicolored lights. Beneath the tree, a stage is set up for a local band playing upbeat, jazzy renditions of holiday classics.

You weave through the throng of people gathered around, your breath puffing in soft white clouds. Some of them are dancing, others simply swaying to the music or beaming as they hold hands or clutch steaming cups in their gloved grasps. Everyone seems to be in the companionship of others, though. Not like you.

You hadn’t meant to come out tonight—not really. The thought of spending New Year’s Eve surrounded by so many people had seemed suffocating in the lead up. Yet, staying home had felt equally unbearable. You’d spent hours pacing your tiny apartment, torn between the guilt of declining your family’s invitations and the overwhelming anxiety of going.

So, you’d landed here, out among strangers. Their chatter blurs into a comforting hum in your ears. For once, it doesn’t feel like you have a hundred pairs of eyes on you, watching, judging. Everyone is too busy counting down the hours until midnight to notice you. It’s unbelievably freeing.

You pause by the edge of the plaza and stuff your hands deep into your pockets. As the band starts up Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, your gaze wanders back toward the large center tree, and you squint at a tall figure with short blond hair. That’s when you realize you recognize him from the therapist’s office—Reiner.

He’s leaning against the metal railing around the tree, hands shoved into the pockets of his long camel overcoat. His stance seems relaxed, but his expression is distant, eyes staring blankly into the pavement a few feet away as groups and couples walk past.

Your heart thuds in your chest. Maybe he’s waiting for someone. He doesn’t seem like the type to spend New Year’s alone, so handsome and charming. But he looks almost miserable standing there alone, you wish you could extend some sort of comfort while he waits, at least. Keep him company until his friend (girlfriend?) gets back.

The thought of approaching him paralyzes you with fear. You consider slipping away, pretending you haven’t seen him. Then, Dr. Keller’s voice echoes in your mind.

“We’ve been working on this bit by bit,” she’d said at your last appointment. “Maybe instead of thinking about it as a huge change, we break this down into smaller, achievable goals. Maybe you set a goal to initiate one meaningful conversation—with someone at work or even a cashier at a grocery store. The important thing is that you try.”

You swallow dryly, jaw clenching. You’d promised you would try. Progress wasn’t about perfection, even if you really want it to be with Reiner. But you were being presented with the perfect chance here.

You should take it.

Your legs feel like lead, but somehow, you forced them to move. Each step toward him is like a tiny battle. By the time you reach the railing, your palms are damp despite the cold. You clear your throat, voice coming out small.

“Hi, Reiner.”

He turns, life returning to his eyes when he stutters your name. “Hey,” he says, sounding pleasantly surprised.

“I, uhm…” you hesitate, the words catching in your throat, “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Didn’t expect to see you either,” he says with a low chuckle. He glances around at the crowd before looking back at you. “Are you… alone?”

“Oh. Yeah.” The admittance tears through your gut like shrapnel.

“Me, too.”

“Oh.”

It comes out sounding surprised, which you don’t mean for it to. You wince inwardly as Reiner awkwardly lifts a hand and rubs the back of his neck, the short of his blond rustling.

“Listen,” he says, shifting his weight and hesitantly meeting your gaze. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. Back at Dr. Madsen’s office. Well, I guess you go there for Dr. Keller. I didn’t mean to… uh, well, I guess I had seen you around and thought maybe it would be fine.”

You blink up at him, startled. “No, no, you’re not—,” you hurry to say, but then, you stop, unsure of how to continue.

You can feel the old, familiar instinct to retreat freeing up on you, the urge to politely escape the conversation before it gets too hard. You forcefully swallow down that urge and take a deep breath.

Baby steps.

“You didn’t make me uncomfortable,” you say. “I meant it’s not easy for me to talk to people, but you’re not, uhm… scary. Not like a stranger on the street or something.”

Reiner tilts his head, his plush lips quirking into a soft smile. “Glad to hear it,” he says. “I’m not sure I could handle being called scary tonight.”

His tone is light, joking, but there’s a quiet hint of genuine relief there. You can’t help but let out a soft, nervous laugh. He really was afraid he had come off badly in front of you, and the thought that even someone like him could feel that way relaxes you in a way.

“It was a bath bomb, by the way. The office gift,” you clarify when he looks at you inquisitively. “Not chocolate or soap.”

“Right,” he says, amused. “Good thing you checked instead of taking my word for it.”

The two of you stand there for a moment, the silence between you surprisingly comfortable. You fidget with the zipper of your coat, searching for something to say. This is the part you normally dread—the moment when the conversation could slip away entirely because you can’t bring yourself to go beyond the pleasantries.

Inhaling deeply, you push out the words, letting them tumble out. “So, uhm… how’s your New Year’s Eve going?”

As soon as you ask, you regret it. Your stomach sinks when Reiner’s expression shifts. Just a slight flicker as his faint smile fades into something wistful before he plasters the cheerful mask back on.

“Well, it’s probably not going all that well if I’m wandering around alone,” he says, his dry tone all but revealing his self-deprecation. “Just came out for a walk, really, and ended up here. But then again, you did the same thing, right?”

You duck your head, cheeks heating. “Yeah,” you admit. “I was supposed to go to a big family thing. I just… I didn’t have it in me. Guess neither of us is really winning at the whole social thing tonight.”

Reiner makes a low, teasingly dismissive sound and shakes his head. “I’m not much of a party guy either. But hey, I wouldn’t count you out just yet.”

You cock your head at him questioningly, and his smile widens.

“Well, we’re friends, aren’t we?”

You’re shocked. Your jaw nearly drops. Friends? You and Reiner? “Does—does this make us friends?”

Sitting in the same therapists’ waiting room every week, seeing each other in passing once in a while there. You thought being friends required a bit more than that, but Reiner doesn’t seem to think so. Has it always been this easy, and you just stressed yourself out for no reason?

“Sure. Then, we can say we hung out with a friend for New Year’s Eve. I’d say that’s a win,” he says. “I would like to be friends. If that’s alright.”

You look up at him, a hopeful glimmer in your eye. The word—friends—bounces around in your head, thrilling and terrifying at the same time. But Dr. Keller’s been urging you to take steps toward real connection for months. This could be one of those steps.

“It’s better than alright,” you say, the corners of your mouth stretching into a smile. “Dr. Keller’s been insisting my cat doesn’t count as a friend for ages, so it’s amazing, actually.”

Reiner perks up, his brow lifting. “You have a cat?”

“Yeah,” you say, nodding. “Her name’s Elvira.”

“I like cats,” he says. He leans in just slightly, but you get a full whiff of his scent, clean soap and the masculine fragrance of some variety of men’s shampoo.

“Well,” you say, warmth spreading in your chest as you study him curiously, “we’re friends, so you should meet her.”

He looks at you with a mix of surprise and excitement when he says, “Now?”

Your lips part, pulse thrumming fast. You didn’t plan on now, but you also don’t see why not. Reiner was, in your own words, not scary. Maybe this was a good idea and not one of those ideas that landed women on primetime news for entirely the wrong reasons.

“Now,” you affirm with a nod.

Reiner practically beams. “Lead the way.”

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

About twenty minutes later, you’ve made your way back up the strip and into your neighborhood with Reiner in tow.

“Dr. Keller said what I’ve been feeling lately is actually pretty common,” you’re explaining as you fumble with your keys.

The faint tremor of nerves is making the metal jangle softly in the otherwise quiet hallway. You’re hoping Mrs. Leary is asleep and doesn’t hear you and Reiner briefly loitering in the hall.

“She called it holiday ennui. You know, that weird, in-between time after Christmas but before New Year’s where everything feels off.”

“I get that,” Reiner says as you get the door unlocked and swing it open. “It’s like you’re supposed to be celebrating, but it feels more like you’re waiting for something to end. Or start. I don’t know.”

“Exactly,” you say, stepping inside and flicking on the light to reveal your cluttered living room. “Sorry, it’s a little messy in here.”

The idea of bringing someone into your space—a near stranger, no less—is something you’d never imagined yourself doing. Not even a week ago. But here you are, walking into your apartment with Reiner. Even the sleek black cat perched on the armrest of your couch looks confused.

“Don’t worry,” Reiner says with a reassuring smile. “My apartment looks like a tornado hit it most of the time.”

You set down your back and start toeing off your boots. “That’s Elvira, by the way.”

Reiner carefully slips off his own boots and overcoat, considerately placing them next to yours on the shoe mat and hanger. Moving slowly, as if not to startle the cat, he pads across the living room and kneels to get a better look. “She’s gorgeous.”

Elvira doesn’t move, her green eyes fixed on him with an imperious stare. You bite your lip and smile.

“She can be a little standoffish, but I’m sure she’ll warm up to you.”

Reiner nods. “Sounds like most cats I’ve met. They make you earn it.”

You settle into the far end of the couch and busy yourself with folding the blanket haphazardly thrown over it, your nervous energy bubbling up. “You’re, uh, welcome to sit. I’m sure Elvira won’t mind.”

He smiles gratefully and lifts himself up just enough before sinking into the other side of the couch. Elvira watches warily as Reiner sinks into the seat cushion, shifting her small paws as if deciding whether to hop down off the couch.

“It’s rough,” Reiner sighs thoughtfully, and you gather he’s picking up where your previous conversation left off. “That limbo during the holiday season. It’s been hitting me hard this year. Well, more than usual. I’m glad Dr. Madsen’s been available through the holidays.”

You fold your limbs cross-legged on the couch. “More than usual?”

“Yeah,” he says, shrugging. “I was diagnosed with depression last year. Started seeing Dr. Madsen about it around the same time. He’s been helpful. I mean, it’s not like a magic fix or anything, but it’s something.”

“Oh,” you say dumbly.

Of course, you’d known he was showing up at the same therapists’ office as you for a while, so there must have been a reason. When you think about the times you felt envious of the ease with which he seemed to carry himself, your first instinct is to tell him you could hardly tell he was struggling with anything, but that isn’t always what people want to hear.

Obvious or not, Reiner was getting help. That’s what was important.

“You’re… really good at masking it,” you settle on saying.

“Yeah, well. Years of practice, I guess,” he says. “It’s not like I’m trying to hide it on purpose. Just… everyone deals with it differently, right?”

You nod slowly. “Right.”

Elvira takes that moment to leap down from her perch right onto the center couch cushion between you, landing with a soft thump. You watch with interest as she leans in to sniff at Reiner’s outstretched hand.

“Looks like she approves,” you murmur, a smile touching your lips.

Reiner chuckles, turning his palm face-up to scratch under Elvira’s chin. “Just gotta give ‘em their space, you know? Can’t force anything on them, let them come to their own conclusions.”

The cat settles herself regally on the cushion, neatly curling her tail around her paws, and glances up at you. Perhaps cats didn’t judge the same way people did, but they were still good judges of character. And if Elvira had taken to Reiner, you were inclined to believe inviting him over hadn’t been a mistake after all.

You glance at the time on your phone and realize midnight isn’t far off. “Should we maybe turn on the TV for the countdown or something?”

“Yeah, sounds like a plan,” Reiner says without pausing from petting Elvira. “Can’t miss the ball drop, right?”

Leaning forward, you pluck the remote from the coffee table and click on the TV, flipping through a few channels before landing on a lively New Year’s Eve broadcast.

A glittering stage fills the screen, performers decked out in sequins that throw the spotlights shining down on them in a brilliant cacophony. After turning the volume up a bit, you set down the remote and absently reach over to brush Elvira’s fur. Your fingers caress warm, unfamiliar skin instead, and you realize with a jolt that you’ve touched Reiner’s hand.

With a sharp inhale, you jerk your hand away and snap your gaze to him. Both of you stammer out your apologies at the same time.

“Sorry! I didn’t mean—,”

“No, no, I’m sorry. She’s your cat—,”

You snap your mouth shut and look down at your socks, feeling the heat rushing to your cheeks. His hand is so big and warm, your stomach flutters recalling the fleeting touch. Reiner clears his throat quietly, his eyes glued to the screen.

“Looks like we caught the last performance,” he says.

“Do you usually watch this kind of thing?” you ask, sneaking a glance at him.

“Not really,” he admits. “Usually, I don’t even bother staying up for midnight. But I’m glad I’m doing something different this year.”

He gives you a tentative smile that makes your heart skip a beat, testing the waters. Instead of resuming his petting of Elvira, he relaxes into the couch and stretches out his arm across the backrest, hand resting gently on the cushion.

You return the smile and let your hand drift toward Elvira to scratch behind her ears. The cat purrs softly, tilting her head.

“Me, too,” you say quietly.

As the countdown looms closer, the broadcast on the TV switches to shots of the massive crowd gathered in Times Square. You lean in a little closer, your stomach performing flips as you pretend to adjust your position to better reach Elvira. But really, it’s more about closing the gap between you and Reiner.

You sidle in bit by bit until you’re close enough for his forearm on the backrest to brush against the nape of your neck, and an unexpected shiver runs down your spine. This is a thrill that makes your heart race in a way wholly different from trying to ask for help at a store. This is the kind you’re somehow enjoying, the kind you want to chase.

Reiner seems to notice, his gaze flickering briefly to you before settling back on the screen. Unimpressed by the shrinking space on the couch, Elvira lifts herself up in a long stretch before leaping to the ground and padding away, leaving Reiner’s warmth, solid and steady beside you. He scoots an inch closer to you, tucking you into the crook of his arm, and your nerves ebb away.

You turn to look at him just as the crowd on TV begins changing, “Ten! Nine! Eight!” only to find he’s already looking back at you. The movement of his tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip draws your eyes down, and you guiltily drag them back up, throat suddenly dry. The scant air between you feels charged with something you can’t quite name.

As the countdown continues, Reiner leans in even closer. You can see the patterns in the gold of his irises as he searches your face for some sign that he’s pushed you past your comfort zone. Unconsciously, you hold your breath, your heartbeat wild against your ribcage.

“Three! Two! One! Happy New Year!”

Out of the corner of your eye, the screen erupts into a colorfully dazzling display of fireworks and lights, and a mix of cheers and music fill your small living room. But you barely notice as you close the last bit of distance between you and Reiner and press your lips firmly against his.

He kisses you slow and hazy, with lips that taste like cinnamon cider. The pleased sigh he lets out against your mouth is only a faint whisper, as delicate as the tickle of his stubble against your chin. He brings his hand up to your face, warm fingers now cool against your burning skin as he skims his knuckles down your chin.

Auld Lang Syne plays out from the TV, muffled in your ear beneath the rushing of your pulse as your every nerve alights. Reiner doesn’t rush the kiss, languidly plucking at your lips with his, as if he might scare you away otherwise. His thumb strokes along your jaw, the gesture so gentle that fondness stabs you through the chest.

You reach up to tangle your fingers into the soft of his hair—dragging him closer, slanting your head to deepen the kiss. Encouraging him to be bolder. Reiner groans.

He slides the hand on your jaw around the back of your neck, and heat ricochets through your veins. You add fuel to the fire, wrapping your arms around him, startled by your own brashness. His tongue rolls against the seam of your lips, hot and wet, and your breath hitches, opening yourself to allow him to tenderly explore your taste.

Just as you’re starting to notice the lightheadedness creeping up on you, a dizziness resulting from equal parts excitement and lack of air, Reiner parts from your lips and ducks his head to trail warm, open-mouthed kisses up the column of your neck. When he reaches your jaw, his tongue flickers out to lave at your ear.

A tiny whimper falls from your lips, and you nestle yourself into the juncture of his neck, panting into his flushed skin. The scent of his shampoo invades your senses again, leaves you fuzzy and yearning. Reiner’s fingers skate down the length of your spine to wrap his hand around your waist.

Somewhere in the far flung corner of your mind, you vaguely register that persistent, gnawing uncertainty that screams at you to flee. But the more present part of you drowns that instinct. It compels you to melt into the comfort of Reiner’s arms, hoping that he’ll let you stay pressed against him for a little while longer, even as your tongue twists into knots. You’ve been very good at asking for what you need.

“Been wanting to do that for ages,” he sighs, sounding breathless.

“Happy New Year, Reiner,” you say softly into his ear.

His lips curve into a smile against your hair. “Happy New Year.”

#reiner braun #reiner braun x reader #reiner braun x you #reiner x you #reiner x reader #reiner aot #aot reiner #snk reiner #reiner snk #snk #aot #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #my writing

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