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sofijaeger · 8 months ago

Note

i’m requesting ANYTHING FLUFFY/ FLIRTY MATTHEW. 😩🩷

𝖺𝖿𝗍𝑒𝑟 𝗆𝗂𝖽𝑛𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𑁍ࠬܓ smt

૮ ྀི◞ ⸝⸝ ◟ ྀིა 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗄 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗐’𝗌 𝖺𝖽𝗏𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾𝗌 𝖽𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝗆𝖾𝖺𝗇 𝖺𝗇𝗒𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀，𝗎𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗅 𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝖺 𝖽𝗋𝗎𝗇𝗄𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎

wc 3784 ! 🎧ྀི warnings a cringy pick up line that was literally torture for me to put in, she’s naked for like one second, drinking ! ♡⸝⸝ seok matthew x f!reader , university au

an a/n 🧾 got a little carried away & there’s just the tiniest smudge of angst, but I hope you like it! xx

You were tired of Seok Matthew trying pick-up lines on you.

Maybe it was funny at first, enjoying how he would whine when you would playfully roll your eyes at his words and do your best to keep your facial expression blank, but now it was getting on your nerves. He greeted you with them, used them practically every other sentence, and would never hesitate to interrupt your trains of thought with them. You weren’t sure how he hadn’t run out of ideas yet, considering this whole “Pick-Up Line Marathon” had been going on since October and now it was just after the final exams of the year.

“Hey girl, are you my appendix? Because this feeling in my stomach makes me want to take you out.”

“Literally what, Matthew,” you mutter back to him, internally cringing as he takes the spot on the bench next to you. It was routine for the two of you to wind down after classes together at the café right between the apartment you shared with the girls in your guys’ friend group, and the one he shared with the guys. Halfheartedly, you glance up at him from your laptop, “Do you actually process what you’re saying before it leaves your mouth? Or no.”

You have to actively fight the urge to smile as a small grin takes over his own lips. “It’s hard for me to process anything when I’m around you,” he laughs, reaching over to ruffle your hair. You hit his hand away.

“Just when I thought you couldn’t get any more creative.”

“Mmm, I wouldn’t have to if you would just go out with me,” he says in a sing-song voice. A hint of a smile graces your lips and Matthew takes notice of it immediately, “You know you want to.”

“I know that Yunjin told me that you told her that you have a thing for Asa,” you say, looking over at him. He had just dyed his hair black, you being there with him as assistance, and every time you saw the dark curls fall against his forehead you couldn’t help but feel the way your body warmed and your heart raced. But this time, he was the one whose cheeks turned a shade darker. A pretty pink color that made you want to reach over and brush your thumbs over the skin. Instead, you kept them on the keyboard of your laptop.

Matthew turns his eyes to the floor, “She told you that?”

When your friend told you that, you didn’t believe it. Until she proceeded to say that she’d heard it right from Matthew. You still hadn’t believed it. Maybe you were in denial that the guy you’d had a crush on since freshman year of university had been playing with your feelings by flirting with you nonstop just to have a crush on someone else.

“Yeah,” you say simply, hoping that the tone of your voice is steady. Matthew looks back at you, his brown eyes filled with that kind of warmth that you’re so fond of. The feeling of his hand wrapping around yours draws you away from your thoughts. The sound of your phone vibrating pulls you away from what he’s about to say. “Sorry, gimme a sec,” you murmur, hesitantly tugging your hand from his to flip your phone over.

A notification from the group chat with your best friends reads on the screen:

Karina We’re still on for going out tonight right?

Yunjin and Gaeul respond right away, both yeses, and you know the three of them would beat your ass if you canceled on them to spend time with Matthew (again). So, you huff out a breath of air as you send a “yes!” yourself. You knew that being with your friends and maintaining those relationships was important, but a part of you deep down had that inkling that whatever time you spent with Matthew would always be better.

His chin nudges your shoulder as he lets a small sigh escape him as well. Against your better judgment, you let him rest his head on your shoulder as you turn off your phone. “M sorry,” you whisper, knowing that he’d been reading the texts the same time you did.

He shakes his head softly, and a strange sense of calmness washes over you at the close proximity. How you can hear him breathe, the weight of him leaning against you, his scent that slowly consumed your senses. It felt right.

“Don’t apologize. They’re your friends too and I know I can’t keep you to myself all of the time.”

You definitely can.

In an attempt to control your racing heart, you take a deep breath. “What were you gonna say? Before I got sidetracked.”

“Nothing,” he says, and his voice sounds so light that if you hadn’t known him for years, you wouldn’t have guessed that he was lying. You don’t push him, not wanting to scare him away as you just bask in the feeling of him being so close to you. Matthew clears his voice before speaking again, “What’re you working on?”

And that’s that.

By the time you step foot into your apartment, it’s already night. Matthew and you had stayed until closing, per usual, and when the clock hit 8:00 you had figured that the girls were probably starting to eat dinner before they would get ready to go out. So you had said goodbye before walking the small distance back to the apartment building.

Your thoughts were a mess, a jumble of Matthew and Asa and how silly you felt for believing that all of the flirting he’d done with you could’ve actually been something more than a joke. You don’t mean to slam the door behind you, but it happens anyway. The noise startles the three girls in the kitchen to your right and you mumble a small, “Sorry” as you set your things down on the floor next to where you keep all of the shoes.

Yunjin smiles a little, “Where were you?”

“With Matt,” you huff out, toeing your tennis shoes off before entering the kitchen and glancing over the takeout they’d ordered. “Can I just have anything?”

Gaeul nods as she pushes a plate towards you. A moment of silence passes before she speaks up, “Are you okay?”

Not rolling your eyes at her words is a difficult task even though you know she’s just being a good friend. “‘M okay. Just had a long day. Stress from finals is still wearing off I guess.” Your three friends exchange a few looks as you begin eating.

“Are you sure?” Karina adds on. When you look up at them, your resolve crumbles and you let out a small groan.

“Yunjin what Matthew told you about Asa is definitely true,” you mutter, and the redhead tilts her head a little as sympathy enters her expression. Gaeul is quick to rub your arm, attempting to soothe you.

“Did he tell you that he likes her?” Gaeul presses and you shake your head.

“Not outright, but he got all flustered when I brought it up.”

“That doesn’t mean anything–”

You cut Yunjin off, “I just… Don’t wanna think about it.” Another beat of silence as you force some more food into your mouth, and for some reason you feel like you’re about to be sick as you chew and swallow.

“What I’m hearing is… We’ll be drinking tonight,” Karina says, trying to lighten the mood. You smile halfheartedly.

And drink you did.

With your girls paying, and knowing that you just wanted to have fun a bit, the evening had started well. Three drinks and one shot in and you were letting go, forgetting about all of the pressure put on you from the previously completed finals and from the sadness you’d felt from Matthew. But when they’d begun pushing more and more alcohol onto you–drink after drink that they’d already paid for and not wanted to finish themselves, the thought of Matthew eventually became so overbearing that you were pulling your phone out to clumsily press on his contact.

Lifting the device to your ear, you plug the other one as your eyebrows furrow a bit from how loud the club suddenly seems. The phone rings twice before he answers.

“YN?” His voice is groggy from sleep, but you barely register that, not caring what time it is and solely focused on the way your name sounds coming from his mouth.

You pout, “No pick-up line?”

There’s a bit of rustling on the other side of the line, “D’you need something?”

“I miss you,” you slur out, leaning your head against a wall that you’d found yourself next to. “I miss you–so much and I wish you were here because then I wouldn’t miss you–”

“Where are you?”

“And if I didn’t miss you then I would actually be able to have fun and–”

“YN, where are you,” Matthew repeats, his voice a bit firmer as he interrupts you. Quietly, you give him the name of the club, and before you can get anything else out he’s hung up. You whine to yourself a bit, switching to texting him.

I wish taht youd liek me back because I literally like you so much that I dont think its like anymore I think it's more that that

Your phone is out of your hands before you can process what’s happening. “Hey!” you cry softly as Yunjin takes the electronic from you, holding it above her head so you can’t reach it.

“No drunk texting!” she chides softly, turning it off before slipping it into the small purse that she’d been carrying with her. You whine again, throwing yourself against her as you try to reach for her purse. “And water for you… Geez YN, it’s only like one in the morning.”

“But–”

“No buts, you’re gonna go sit down for a minute.” You want to complain, to tell her that you’re fine and that you should still be dancing while downing more drinks, but you can’t. Maybe it’s your emotions, but you just feel so tired. Tired of having to hide how you feel from everyone. Especially Matthew. You drag your feet as Yunjin brings you over to the table that you’d all started the night at, helping you sit down before setting her purse next to you.

“I’m gonna go get you some water, okay babe? You stay right here.”

In response, you slump over the table. Your arms fold as you rest your head on the bare skin, thoughts running wild for what felt like the millionth time that day. When a hand taps your shoulder, you expect it to be Yunjin as you hold out your hand for the water she’d said she was getting for you. Instead, a larger hand slips into your smaller one. Instantly you sit up, blinking harshly as you try to piece together who it is.

“Matt!” you exclaim loudly when your vision focuses and you’re trying to pull him down to hug you before he can process what’s happening. He stumbles as he leans over, your arms wrapping around him and squeezing him tighter than he thought you were capable of.

When you had called him, it had taken him less than a second to conclude that it was a drunk dial. But he didn’t hesitate to get out of bed to come get you because, well, when you were drunk, you were a clingy mess. He was trying to keep you safe. That was the only reason he was here. That was the only reason he allowed himself to believe as he stood back up, you still hanging onto his neck.

He straightened his back fully finally, his hands going to hold your waist as he steadied you, small laughs leaving your swollen lips, and the sounds made his breath hitch.

“You came! D’you get my texts?” You keep your arms around him, and the way you’re looking at him has Matthew feeling like he might fall over again. Has him feeling like he’s falling even deeper in love with you. It was hard not to, despite your insistence that you had a somewhat stand-offish personality, he never really thought so. No matter what you said he’d always thought that you were one of, if not the greatest, people he’d had the pleasure of meeting. Of getting to know, of becoming friends, of falling in love with.

“Yes, but I’m here because I obviously got your call,” he says as you hold him even tighter, resting your head on his shoulder and he shudders when you inhale deeply against the skin of his neck. “How much have you had to drink?”

“I don’t know,” you laugh, being honest. “They just kept giving them to me and I just kept drinking them because… because of you.”

Because of him? What did he do? Oh– Your words set off alarms of concern through Matthew’s head, but he does his best to remain calm and focus on getting you home. He isn’t completely sure what you’re upset about, but the way you’re holding him now and the way you’d looked incredibly disheartened after the topic of Asa came up earlier was enough to clue him in.

“Where are the girls, sweetheart?”

You don’t even flinch at the nickname, “Yunjin’s getting me water.” Matthew turns his head behind him and back towards the bar at your words, searching for the redhead. Eventually, he spots her trying to work her way through the crowd and back to the table you’re at. He turns back to look down at you and his heart softens at the way your eyes have closed as you rest on him.

“You tired?” A soft hum of agreement is your response, and Matthew shifts your weight in his arms so you’re leaning against him in a way that’s hopefully more comfortable. “Okay, we’re gonna get you home so you can sleep. ‘S that okay–”

“Matthew?” Yunjin’s voice cuts him off as she approaches the table, eyes widening when she sees the way you’re clinging to him. She sends Matthew a look of questioning, eyebrows furrowed as she sets the cup of water on the table and Matthew shakes his head in response, trying to say ‘I don’t know’. “What’re you doing here?”

“She called me–”

“Well, you can go, I can take care of my best friend–”

“Nooo,” you whine, nuzzling your head into Matthew’s neck and he smiles softly as he looks down at you again. Yunjin can’t help the pang of second-hand embarrassment she feels as she reaches to try and tug you away from Matthew, only for you to dodge her hand. “No,” you repeat and Matthew chuckles.

“YN, babydoll, I got you water,” she offers, still trying to get you away from Matthew, but it’s no use.

You lift your head from his shoulder, blinking groggily, before lying down again. Yunjin huffs in annoyance, turning back to Matthew, “Are you gonna take her home?”

“That’s all I’m trying to do,” he says and he watches as Yunjin contemplates it for a moment.

“Take her straight home. No flirting, no funny business. I’m getting Karina and Gaeul and we’ll literally be right behind you–”

“I’ve got it, I’ve got it,” Matthew reassures.

You whine again, “No, no– dance with me. I wanna stay and I wanna dance with my loser best friend–”

“Hey,” Matthew replies softly. “I’m not a loser.”

“You are,” Yunjin mutters as she retrieves your phone from her purse, handing it to Matthew. “I’ll see you in a little.”

He nods, before carrying a still-protesting you to his car. The ride back to your apartment is mostly silent, only with Matthew checking up to make sure you’re still awake and well every few minutes. The sight of you falling asleep in the passenger seat of his vehicle is something he’s used to, but this time feels different. For some reason he isn’t quite sure of, it feels intimate, and the feeling only intensifies as he helps you back up to your apartment. He guides you into your bedroom, you still trying to climb all over him.

Matthew retrieves your pajamas from the floor of your room. “Do you need help changing?”

“...Yes.”

“Are you lying?”

“No,” you giggle, laying out on your bed and Matthew averts his eyes from the way the short dress you’re wearing rides up your thighs. He tosses your pajamas on the comforter before grabbing your hands to sit you up.

Your heart pumps unsteadily in your chest as he kneels before you, hands going to undo the straps of your heels.

“Would you ever date me?”

He doesn’t hesitate to respond as he slips the first shoe off of your foot, “Of course. Why do you think I flirt with you all of the time?” The corners of your mouth turn down as he takes off the other shoe, and the sight of him looking back up at you from the position he’s in makes you flush.

“I thought you were just joking,” you respond shyly and Matthew shakes his head a little in response.

“I wouldn’t do that to you.” His voice is the softest you’ve ever heard it, and you can slowly feel yourself beginning to sober up a bit. “We can finish this conversation tomorrow, okay? Just let me take care of you right now.”

You take a deep breath as he stands back up.

“Do you really need help getting changed?”

You nod.

“Okay,” he says softly, doing his best to not make you uncomfortable or make the situation weird. “Arms up, please.” It’s hard not to smile as you do so and you shiver slightly as Matthew tugs your dress over your head, immediately reaching for your t-shirt and slipping it on you before he sees too much of your bare skin.

“I’ve gotta get you more of my clothes to wear,” he teases as he helps you into your pajama pants next. You laugh a little, resting your hands on his head.

“What would you wear then?”

“Whatever you want me to wear.”

You laugh again, and a smile graces Matthew’s lips as he carefully picks you up again, carrying you into the conjoined bathroom of your bedroom. “Be careful with what you say, I might take you up on that.”

“Just nothing stupid, please.”

“No promises.” He sets you on your bathroom counter, placing a hand on his chest as he feigns hurt.

“You wouldn’t make me look bad would you?” You laugh. “Aw, you’re just evil, aren’t you?” You watch him with a soft look in your eyes as he puts some micellar water on a cotton pad, carefully beginning to remove your makeup and trying not to pull on your skin too much.

Your eyes never leave his face, “I wouldn’t make you look stupid.” He hums slightly, and in the back of your mind, you register the rose blush that paints his neck and the way his ears turn red. In the front of your mind, you just really want to kiss him.

Matthew’s eyes go to your lips as he runs the cotton pad over them, removing nonexistent lipgloss. You think you see him lean closer to your face, that his line of vision is showing that he wants to kiss you just as badly as you want to kiss him. And then it’s like something clicks in his mind, and he clears his throat before moving to throw the cotton pad away. You try to ignore the feeling of disappointment that grows within you.

He continues moving around you, getting your toothbrush and putting toothpaste on it before handing it to you. Halfheartedly, you begin brushing your teeth.

“Sometimes I wish you were this honest when you’re sober.” His hands go to your hair, holding it back as you spit into the sink.

“If it makes you feel better I’m most honest with you,” you say. “Everything comes out around you eventually.”

Matthew tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear, “It makes me feel a little better.” He trails off as he watches you lazily brush your teeth, helping you spit again before rinsing the brush and putting it away.

It’s quiet for a moment. “I care about you so much,” he starts softly as he picks you up again, “I don’t think you see it, which is crazy because I’ve been as obvious as possible.” You smile at him, bumping your nose with his when he turns the lights of the bathroom off.

“I don’t like Asa. I never have,” he confesses, laying you down in your bed. For a moment, you aren’t sure if you heard him right, the alcohol and sleep creeping in making it hard for you to think straight. “It’s always been you.”

If it weren’t for the fact you were falling asleep, you would’ve had so much more to say, but all you can manage is a small: “Stay.” Matthew stares down at you cuddled into your sheets, clearly contemplating something. Then, he lifts the covers again, sliding in next to you. The lighting from the singular lamp on your bedside table sheds a golden glow around the room and you lay on your side, not hesitating to move closer to him.

Matthew wraps his arm around you as he turns off the lamp, sending the space into darkness. All you can hear is his breathing and the sound of his heartbeat, the steadiness of the thumping slowly lulling you to sleep.

“I love you,” Matthew whispers. Your eyes struggle to blink open, and when they do, you’re met with the sight of his eyes focused on your face. You suck in a sharp breath, unbelieving of what you just heard, wondering if you dreamt it. He nods a bit, running his free hand over your hair. “You can go to sleep, sweet girl, I’m right here.”

“I love–” his finger goes over your lips, preventing you from finishing your sentence.

“Tell me tomorrow.”

You listen to him, falling silent. You can tell you’ve sobered up enough to remember this, so you move your face closer to his, brushing your lips over his in a brief kiss. When you pull away, his eyes are half-lidded and you quickly close yours to prevent yourself from kissing him again. Now, at least the tomorrow version of you won’t be angry that you didn’t do anything to show him that you felt that same way at that moment. It’s easy to drift off again when he holds you like this.

“Tomorrow.”

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sofijaeger · 8 months ago

Text

no because why did 17y/o me eat with this…

Pinehurst - chapter 6

eren jaeger x reader (with various aot character interactions)

╰ summer camp au

words: 6.7k

warnings: swearing, sexual abuse, non-con, aggressive behavior, mentions of emotional and physical abuse, serious topics referring to past and present trauma.

chapter summary: teasing always goes too far.

↣ BEFORE YOU READ! ↢

This chapter includes extremely sensitive topics that may provoke remembrance or reactions from some. Please read with caution.

masterlist

Early morning of the third week slips through aged drapes, doddering a gentle gust into your cabin windows. Sunlight casts upon the wooden interior and into your room that's still fast asleep, all except for Eren. His eyes burn from built-up insomnia of the last few hours, perching his head between his hands to muffle any heavy breaths as if the thought of slumber hadn't crossed his mind a thousand times throughout the night. The lids of his eyes crease to a close with every blink, capable of convincing anyone he’s been exhausted, hypnotic in this state between dreaming or devising another nightmare for hours. Too much is set in his mind, excessive amounts of things he needs to say or do, complications added onto even more complex situations and he's only pondered the solutions for resolving them.

He reaches his hand to the base of his neck and timidly fiddles with his hair, keeping his adorned stare on you from the other mattress. This gesture had never crossed anyone's mind irregularly, even though he repeated the subtle movement almost every day for the past few weeks. Once after re-meeting you, another time during the sorrowful conversation with his brother, yet again when you returned from you and Jean’s canoe exploration mishap, and now followed this. He even recalls doing so before this year’s camp season started, for 5 straight years to be exact. This soft-touch punctured Eren so deep in the heart, the only method he ever thought of to preserve your impression was to do it himself, but it never felt the same. The way you'd comfort him, your innocent, little hint that you might just love him as much as he does still rings in his mind, so he's carried out this motion ever since.

Your sleeping form is excessively sweet, it's pure and gentle and he wants to jump in right next to you, wants to feel your soft inhales and exhales against his neck, to hold you and to protect you, to wake up beside the most tender being imaginable. With his own clothes embellishing your skin just as you were now, when you began accepting his subtle gifts of affection could he breathe more clearly, It’s like you were his.

"You're kind of creepy staring at her like that."

He's unnerved by the presence before him, a younger boy fresh out of slumber from the way his silk garments cling to his body. He carries a pillow against his side, scratching at his tangled blond tufts with the other hand. Has he been standing there the entire time? Eren swallows down his adoring pride, directing his head hung low to the child.

" 'morning Falco. Don't... don't think anything of this. I was just-"

"Admiring her?"

"What? no-"

Falco croaks a chuckle, still dry and achey from laying quiet in his slumber just minutes ago. He sits on the edge of your bed, placing his pillow before your feet as to not disturb your sleep if he accidentally jerks or shifts. He’s only a few inches from your tucked position and it takes a decent amount of strength for Eren not to ask him to move away in worry of waking you, or maybe it was more of slight envy that he was allowed such close contact. Eren hadn’t reestablished that permission just yet.

“Seeing you gawk over her isn’t nearly the weirdest thing you’ve done." Falco was intrigued with the way his counselor was so needless to his own actions. Curiously, Eren shifts forward on his bed, urging the kid to continue.

"You put everyone else's priorities below hers, every time. I think you feel it's your first concern to make sure she's ok when it doesn't have to be, but for you, it needs to be. She could've been any other person you'd have met in your life, yet you befriended her and created so much more of a relationship. You've done this to yourself on purpose because her care means everything to you, she's become significant in your life and you want nothing about that to change, correct? Don't get me started about how you guard her like personal security, and what about those times you kept your head down to hide your blush when you're secretly staring at her-"

"Don't you dare finish that line."

"...It's obvious you admire her at the very least."

He couldn’t deny how observant Falco was, honestly Eren kind of liked it. Maybe all he said was beyond safe thoughts to speak about between a young adult and child, but it came with the feeling of being understood. It didn't sound too vague like a fresh-born crush, and it wasn't stepping over any barriers you had silently gated between each other. He knew he needed you near him, with him, and that one word perfectly captures his feelings of respect for you. If love wasn't ready to be spoken yet, admiration was the next best thing. Of course, there was no better reaction to hide his vulnerable state in front of Falco.

Eren was red again, blushing at the ears, letting a child physically admit his feelings about you to him. No matter how deeply he tries to focus someplace else, all Eren’s emotions in front of a singular twelve-year-old are tattled out like some report. Falco sounds factual almost, believable enough to think his words had been written on paper to present like a researched essay, providing resources and examples, the whole nine yards. There's nothing Eren could say to change the topic now, for they were too sunken into this conversation about you, literally in front of you. The kid just had to pound down at his feelings before 7:00 am.

"In the years you two weren't in contact, we were in your position. More familially I think, though I can't speak for my brother." Falco giggles, and what exactly he implies could set Eren off the walls had he paid closer attention. "I know it makes you nervous and all, but if you don't tell her soon..." The young boy halts his words, hazel eyes meeting souls of turquoise. His subjective was deep, "I fear something might happen."

Eren questions his intuition, supporting himself on the bed as he leans over his arm, looking completely desperate for more information. "What, like you have some gut feeling?"

Falco nods, blinking asynchronously to release any more exhaustion from his droopy eyes. "I hate to think this way, but nothing strange has happened here yet, do you get what I'm implying?" He says, and the older boy stiffens just a little.

"You think something bad might happen to her?"

"To anyone, but... yeah." And unfortunately, Falco makes a fair point. These past few weeks had felt beyond indifferent, maybe it had just been the connection you and Eren were establishing somewhat smoothly, sending as stable signals as two adults enchanted with each other could, maybe there was something to come. Bad things always happened wherever Eren went, misfortunes have attached themselves to the boy like a ball to chain. Maybe that's why he's refrained from leading you on in this twisted game you've been playing, because he’s aided hardships wherever he’s gone.

"Even your years-long argument couldn't get in the way of your feelings, but you've gotta make sure she's ok first." Falco agonizes, pouting his bottom lip forward. "If anything happens to her and Colt finds out, we're all in huge trouble." It takes another few seconds for Eren to realize who the boy is mentioning again, remembering Falco's older brother. The name was recognizable to him, heard of only during drop-offs and pickups half a decade ago. "Years ago, she was caught up in a fire and suffered some memory loss. 'took her a few weeks to remember who any of us were but Colt was livid." And Eren keeps his jaw clinched, refraining from any further note on such a delicate subject. When Falco chooses to say nothing more it signifies that Colt must've never heard of what else occurred, Eren intends to keep it that way.

"So Colt is... close to her?"

If Eren didn't have additional time on his hands, an hour before his alarm would ring precisely, the conversation that follows would become intolerable if he received it too quickly.

"The closest, I’m sure." Falco states.

So, Not him.

Was it ever him?

"Your crush is my brother's best friend, officially making her mine too. They've created every memory possible together". He states it so proudly, conveying how truly joyful he was to consider you the closest thing to family he had ever known. Every growing collect of confidence he composed in himself dripped directly from Eren's faith, pondering on what kinds of memories Falco was referring to, did he even know how diverse the topic of "everything" was? Eren's interest reached its peak, babbling out of his mouth before he even permitted it in doing so.

"What kinds of memories."

"I wasn't there for every moment, I'm sure they would've found it extremely uncomfortable if I were there for the intimacy." He softly laughs, raising his hand to pet at your shoulder. Though Eren wasn't laughing with him. How cruel of the kid to speak such things to him out loud. Eren was trying to peruse you, ignorant to who else had claimed you before himself.

He had been in such contemplation that his selfish mind full of faults, absorbed in his own existence, hadn't even noticed how much time had passed between you two. He missed you, the one he used to know, in all honesty, he barely had a clue about the lovely girl sleeping in front of him. He was onlyfortunate enough to reconnect with you after summers restrained through misery and dread. He did his very best to keep your happiness existing, removing him and his scrambled troubles away from everything that could've added the slightest bit of stress on you. Still, you looked uneasy wherever you went.

None of your shared moments seemed to matter after you parted ways. When he removed himself, you were willing to find your satisfaction again in someone else. Even if it meant filling the empty void of lost time you once kindred together.

Perhaps it's easier to carry on that way.

"You two really love her, huh buddy."

"Mhm, and I know you do too."

Following a deep breath, Eren stands to his full height, approaching the camper with a hand to stabilize him in getting onto his feet. "I'll see what I can do about my own faults, but I won't let anything happen to her again. I promise." Eren makes this promise, knowing very well it's too strong of a word for him to keep.

Dozens of campers line the back lawn, stretching along the sidelines before participating in the current week's event. The Pinehurst games annually encourage campers and counselors to participate for privileges within your cabin. It's something almost every camper wants, more for the benefit and bragging privileges than enjoying the relationship built with their teammates. Some people truly give it their all, demanding for the top score, others play until they lose the motivation to continue on, and most tend to laze around with nothing better to do.

You approach your group right beside your cabin, smiling bullishly while stretching their limbs and hyping each other up. Eren isn’t here yet, unusual of the boy to be running late for such an important event. You grip his red headband, hoping to tie it around his neck. Maybe you’ll get the chance to trail your fingers through his hair before he leaves your side-

"Sorry, I'm ready to begin." He says, hurdling over Jean who's seated himself in a straddle position on the ground. He spares no glance at you, blindly grabbing his headband and messily double knotting it behind his head. Falco and gabi stare at each other and then to you, aware of how hostile their counselor had just been. Their eyes silently beg for him not to return to the old version of himself present just weeks ago, but you however pass the thought by, thinking it must have been his early morning nerves that kept him closed off from you. You'd been doing well with him so far, building the relationship you both missed. But did it not appear that you missed him? Or did it come to his attention that he has larger issues to worry over?

"Eren," you shout, enough to alert the boy. He visibly gulps when he turns around, now seeing you decked out in your baggy shirt and grey shorts. You look real pretty, maybe you could throw his sweatshirt over you, though that would make you his. You aren't his.

"You're up first for us, good luck." You send him a smile and his heart's gone all numb again, tingling from your pearly teeth and squinty eyes. That look was it for him, it felt so special, yet part of him guessed you'd been practicing for someone else, who you truly want to show it for at the end of the summer.

Following behind a crowd of supporters and participants, you and the kids find a spot near a tall pine tree, glancing out over the water that cascades in parallel with the sky. The horizon's rising sun mixes hues of tangerine and blue, reflecting against the water to raise it’s temperature.

Eren stands before the shore, swim shorts stretched to his mid-thigh and shirt squeezing his muscles in, then it's off. Somehow your mind assumed he'd be swimming fully clothed so shit his shirts off-

If you thought he was beautiful before you were certainly misguided in the best ways, he was breathtaking. sun-kissed, chest matching the skies glow. Abdominals arrayed in perfect line with each other, not ripped, but they held themselves together in more of a lean build. Eren understood what exercises would get him the shape he wanted, it was a given he'd put lots of care into himself for the last few years. He truly was a different person than he used to be, still temperamental in many ways, but he had grown. Grew from the silly accidents he used to get himself into as a child, living through the most traumatic adolescence to find himself here today, and certainly, he grew... physically, following down his v-line. If you could squint hard enough, you swore the smallest bit of stubble was sprouting from above his bulge.

It was quite the view.

"Taking it all in?"

Mikasa locates your group, keeping guard of her own that runs around and distracts other campers. She really examples an enlightened motherly figure, while Jean represented more of a lazy, good-cop father. You perch your head towards a completely different direction, admiring the vast acres for a split second as you persuade yourself you'd been staring into the wilderness all along. "Yeah, the trees are beautiful Mika."

She places one hand under your chin, returning your face to its more comfortable angle towards the brunette swimmer. "Please, do look some more," she smirks, knowing exactly where you'd been drooling at, more specifically who.

Eren begins into the water with his competitors, little waves splashing against his thighs and it's hard for you to refocus your eyes anywhere else when he reaches his hands down to adjust his waistband out of your peripheral vision. It had totally been on purpose, but Eren would let you have just an inch father of his skin to look at. He thought it'd be cute to see you struggle like this.

"I don't blame you for looking, you know." Mikasa starts, and you're left with your face prickling with how uncomfortably loud her comment sounded to you. "Mika!"

"What?" she chuckles. "I may treat him like my brother, but I'm not denying he's hot."

You groan and blush at her comment, though you aren't necessarily disagreeing. "So, you've never tried to go after him?"

"Meh, he's not my type." She whispers, refocusing on a more scruffy brunette who’s now pushing Eren's head underwater followed by a snarky laugh.

"At least I thought I had another type." She winces.

"I think you care for him a lot, you just aren't used to showing it." You say, tenderly placing your hand onto her shoulder." She looks at you softly before coming back with her remark. "And you know these feelings, how?"

"Because... I'm not used to showing mine either."

"So just go for it!" she shouts, cheering away from your hold. "What's the worst he can say?"

"NO", Mika he's got so much on his mind, I couldn't add another problem for him to make a priority." You watch as the blow horn is set off, signaling the swimming race to commence and the competitors legitimately fly, chilling water grazing their skin so effortlessly. Eren doesn't look back once, persisting to move his hands in circular strokes. Everything he does has full effort and care, it'd be impossible for you to see his problems overcome him.

"I'll help him through whatever he needs though, I promise.

Eren grudges through the crystal lake, surpassing one final opponent before reaching the shore in victory. The children of your cabin come speeding towards him, latching their arms around his torso to give him one group hug, and you let yourself stare just for a moment, of how potentially happy he could feel without any challenges or sacrifices in his way.

You promised Mikasa, and you'd promise Eren that he'd never need to sacrifice again. By tomorrow, you'd be picked up and driven towards a future that would benefit everything in the years to come, for Eren’s sake.

In the final activity concluding the Pinehurst games, a volleyball match of all events, your team had easily made it to the semifinals. Counselors are required to pay for their cabin, as it's part of their contract but it isn't mandatory for your campers to play, thus your group of kids has chosen the option of cheering you on from the sidelines. Falco stands calmly, throwing you one of his cute little waves. He looks so excited to see you play, sporting a shirt with your camp initials written on the front, "I drew it on!! '' He enjoys boasting because for him spirit is much more important than the actual game. Too bad you couldn't view the entirety of his lovely creation, for half of his shirt is covered by the weirdest-chanting child you've ever seen right beside him. Her hair is tied into a messy knot, showcasing her crafty jewelry made from raw pasta as she waves her arms to their full extent. You and Eren nestle comfortably against one another, in loose athletic clothes dampened with participation and skill. He sends a soft smile to the kids, and for a second you feel his complexion is as far as it will develop. It's serene, in saying he truly feels comfortable here, he feels at home. Like everything he's struggling with is just pushed to the back of his mind. It worries you how much he's been pushing everything back, how often he dismisses anything relating to his adolescence, he won't tell you a single memory. Eyebrows still frowning, you turn your head to the left, eying quite a competitive opponent who's missing her lunch for this, and her slightly smaller partner whose mind is out of the game, the only energy he emits is being used to grow the peach fuzz barely sprouting from his head.

They stand in assorted order, Connie guarding any back passes and Sasha protecting the front of her side of the net. You let Eren take the lead this rotation, watching him unnoticeably strut up to the center of the court and squat into position. Nice ass... Pondering too far off, as usual, your perfect view of his sculpted body leaves more than one distraction to your vision, enough to completely miss the first ball of the match. Connie aces his serve without you even budging from your position.

Eren eyes you over his shoulder, letting a chuckle slip through his tender lips. He holds a hand out in front of him, already using one of your first breaks to communicate what you figure must be so drastically important by the way he relaxes his browns, angling his chest down to you as- he's approaching you. His jaw tips down the slightest towards your face, eyes laying thin, only softening his complexion by the feature of his adorable smile. "Why don't you and I switch spots, huh?"

"I think that would be best." you titter, embarrassed by how mediocre your playing skills are. You peak through your eyes, enough where he's barely in sight so you avoid any more embarrassment.

"Better view for me anyways."

That makes you blink in surprise, double-taking up at the growing smirk plastered on his face. how he could be so nonchalant in a time so serious, so important to the reputation of your cabin and kids. Damn, you were aware you liked it too. Perhaps the only reason you brushed it off with a matching quirk was that he seemed more usual, and normal. He was becoming his old self, developing this familiar confidence you missed so dearly. You shake your head, allowing him the privilege of laughing at your blush while you pass him. You can hear him chortle from the back of his throat as you squat into position, knowing you're only serving the comment he requested.

Within 4 out of 5 sets, you somehow managed a small lead over your opponent, falling back on Eren’s sturdy saves to get the ball in the air and over the net, rather than you actually hitting it. If you could avoid it for this long, surely another round wouldn't be stressful to think about. Sasha readies her position, and her partner prepares one foot back. He lifts his arms parallel to the dirt ground, lined by outgrown grass, and rubbed off spray paint as the ball flies into the air. Connie approaches his target and serves over the net, the ball shifting itself directly towards Eren. He manages to receive it just as he'd easily done so all 14 times before. Now as it levitates over to your direction, it flies much slower than before. You think setting the ball would be the simple move, to let Eren take the lead, but you want to make him proud, you want to win for your team, for gabi whose vocal cords are strained beyond thought, and for Your best friend's little brother showcasing his merchandise so proudly. So as everyone approaches the net for Eren’s hit, three members on the court land from their positions dumbfoundedly. The ball had hit the floor early from your fakeout. A risky move indeed for someone not so experienced in the sport but with the world's luck, you unexpectedly managed to dump the ball over rather than your expected play.

Did you seriously score the winning point? You can see it on Sasha and Connie's complexions, still in utter shock by a movement they planned to perform next. Everything seems blurry still, and you're not sure if the nerves have something to do with a winner's ever-present anxiety but that's how you feel, like a winner. It's then you see your partner's hands high in the air, shaking frantically to match his initial reaction. There's that smile again, though it's different than before. It's open, goofy, has a set of teeth shining and everything. It's directed to you, for you. You can't stop him from smiling simply because you're the cause of it, a wonderful feeling that couldn't be created by anyone other than you in this present moment.

He stutters his step before thinking over how he wishes to congratulate you, following his instinct to overexpress his joy. His hands find your shoulders and shake them back and forth, sweeping any last nerves from your system. Your ears are still tingly from children’s screams and hollers, but you're grateful to understand "Atta girl, we did it!" mouthed from Eren’s pink parted lips.

and you feel like crying, almost. Because he's so damn beautiful, he's charming you in your shared moment of victory. Why is no one congratulating him? His effort brought you this win, not the single point you scored. But Eren is just so special, he couldn't care less if he gained a single point or one-hundred. Because if you put your mind to something, you accomplish it and it’s what he looks for. Eren's never met someone like you, so similar to him that a win for you is a win for himself. Everything you do is with full passion, and it excites him, makes him all giddy about the next time he'll see you, what you'll do next and how it'll make him happier than he's ever been.

You leave him in a daze, one where no one can shake him out of unless you’ve somehow left his sight. He’s only shaken out of his trance when you turn the corner around a cabin, fetching for the winning teams' medals. Connie ruffles his bun, tangling his fingers in Eren's sweaty locks as Sasha repeatedly nudges her shoulder in ‘congratulations’. Though he's not focused on any of that, he's wondering when you'll turn the corner again and flash him another smile. He's prepared this time, nerves building and diminishing in waves at the thought of you returning to his side. He promises he will never let you leave his side again, no matter how terrible he is at keeping it.

You'd do everything in your power to protect him too, it’s why you plan to spend as much time with him as you can, why you agreed to participate in Marceign's scholarship program. Surely you could aid Eren with your earnings, maybe even discover Reiners point of view. All you're sure about is that you can't let anyone worry, what excuse do you have to defend yourself there? You haven't planned that far ahead, but it needs to be thought of by tonight. The sooner you go, the sooner you come back and fix this hell that's been caused.

"Hey! I need someone to lift this driftwood with me, mind helping me out for a sec?" You call out, wrestling with the corner of a dampened log blocking the awards. As another counselor walks over, he's quick to meet your eyes, light brown and chilling. His hair tousles against the evening breeze and the bits of fog drifting through. It makes it hard to tell what exactly he looks like. His hair is ginger you conclude, or maybe A brownish-blond?

He shines his pearly white teeth in your direction and approaches you on the ground suspiciously like he's too cautious of his surroundings, shoulders twisted, head tilted upwards, something had to have been uncomfortable or injured if he were walking that strangely you assumed.

"I'd be happy to help," he says, crouching to your left side. Your name comes out of his mouth and you're already feeling as alarmed as him, like his pulse shot from his body to yours as soon as you feel his right-hand brush down your arm, enough to make it tingle. you don't think anything of it, because you're much more concerned with the way he's already dead set on your facial complexion. You breathily sigh a laugh as your fingers grip around the stray log. "This isn't going to lift itself!", almost sarcastically you remind, waiting for his assistance and eventually it comes. You both place the log on the opposite side of the pathway and the medals come into full view, handcrafted with shiny plastic and shedding ribbon. Beginning to assist yourself up, you place your hands on your knees to provide extra balance.

However, You're held down, thinking something must've caught onto your pants until you direct your head over to the problem. There's an entire hand holding you down by your waist. The boy's fingers grip the hook of your pocket but his smile never leaves his face. Neither of you loses contact as you try to release from his grip but he doesn't budge. His smile forces through his jaw as yours disappears, teeth clenching closed while yours falter and at this point, the waistline of your shorts is beginning to rip.

He forms a pout with his lips, eyes squinting in satisfaction as his other hand finds your opposite wrist. "Don't I get anything in return for helping you?"

"Let go of me."

Of course, he doesn't, tightening his grip as your arm is pulled above your head and against the exterior of the cabin wall. He curves his fingers against a wooden shingle, refraining you from pushing him off.

"You're too weak, sweetheart. Can't even lift a log up off the ground and you think you can stand up to me all by yourself?"

"Floch I said let go."

"Im helping you and you're helping me." he crawls his way between your legs, having you straddled against the wall by force, and it doesn't take long for his obsession to mutate over to your neck, tracing his lips against your jaw before targeting a prominent spot to suck on. As you try to retaliate you're halted by his cold hands, dancing from your ripped pocket to the spaghetti strap of your tank-top, pulling it down an inch until it meets your bra strap, then tugging both down altogether. He's goggling over the sight before him, loving the view of one tit spilling out from underneath your clothes. "It's that simple."

"Fuck off, I'm helping you help yourself-." but you can't speak anymore, he's already grasped your flesh in his hand, groping it like a disgusting predator tackling its prey. No words are shared after this point, only whimpers of unintentional pleasure and whispering cries for help. You're stuck between wooden panels and his teeth, letting him devour the next part of your neck he wishes to bruise.

He presses his pelvis further into yours, and you watch as he ignores your silent begs for help. Floch had always been this way, strange in the mind to the point all his actions became questioned by the staff. He'd stare at the girls longer than usual but never meet their eyes, only directing his gaze below their necks where the real prize was waiting for him to discover. Some days he’d perch his phone against an open window, awaiting the sounds of female voices and giggles. What he'd later do with that audio was unknown, though he was never put to a stop even after counselors found out about his schemes. Floch somehow managed to always get off with a warning, never any serious consequence that scared him enough to never try again. Today, it seemed he hadn't heard the sound of female cries in a long time, which is why his dagger targeted you in a bullseye of females. Perhaps he wasn't fond of the idea of you belonging to someone else, someone he despised from the very beginning because of his morals, how passionate this other person had been. Maybe he was glad to see this other person’s downfall and wanted to use this boy’s growth as an advantage to get to you.

Whatever the case, it worked in his favor.

His moans are terrifying when his fingers find your panty line, rubbing up and down the seam like the binding of a present waiting for him to open. It's undeniably frightening and all you can do is sit there, legs wide open, shirt half off and helpless while black tears drip down your face from running mascara. You tried so hard to curl them for Eren's liking, hoping he'd compliment on how put together you tried to be for him today. Now the ginger with hollowed features compliments your state of pain out of his enjoyment. He’s enjoying this, ruining an optimistic little girl by a male creature.

He was destroying you, and you were letting him against your own will.

Through Connie and Sasha's cheers of congrats, Eren could still hear a little voice in the back of his head, a sound telling him to focus on the present situation, its call that could not be ignored. Was it a desire? an instinct? a gut feeling now making him feel very off. This voice inside his head was light however, its pitch made him relaxed, feel calm, almost blissful from its sensual melody that flowed through his eardrums. So he swallowed a few times to get it out of his head, thinking it was helping his attention on the conversation at hand. But it isn’t leaving. It was ever so hushed but it was still there, and when he turned his head it grew in volume by the smallest amplitude, that's when he realized there was nothing stuck inside his head. There was a real voice making him feel this way, and he almost felt guilty as he ushered through the small crowds of campers, labeling apologies to all he bumped into, but especially he apologized to the voice ringing in his head, upset that he could not get to it in time. It was familiar and that was a fact, almost too known that he could attach a name to it if he wanted. When he approached the last cabin before another acre of woods, he proved his theory correct, even though every muscle in his body never wished to stumble upon such disaster. Unfortunately, he was more present than one could ever be, locked between two pairs of eyes both widened for the exact opposite purposes. You wanted to be found, to be helped by anyone who stumbled along the rocky path, and at this point, you'd discovered why Floch had picked you of all people. He knew Eren would chase after you, the poor boy wouldn't let you go, so in a state where he’d eventually received praise, where he became so rarely occupied in a situation disregarding you, Floch would take you in, making the boy miserable all over again.

"Sluts been teasing us all for years, I was just brave enough to take her offer ya know?." he lustfully suppresses a laugh.

Floch truly loved to see people suffer, he was a masochist deep down and it revolted Eren's heart.

As Eren sees another manhandling you in a way you never deserved, he's taken aback. He can barely understand what the other boy is demanding, although it sounded like a sarcastic welcoming if Eren wanted to join.

Eren's muscles retract when he tells them to move, but his brain isn't functioning. “GO” he pleads to himself, though a part of him keeps his eyes on Floch's movements, on the hand that holds the flesh of your chest while the other is long lost inside your pants. For a second Eren feels your minds collide, wondering how a person could be so heartless to do such a thing. It expresses a steady step from him in your direction, and you begin squirming again to alert whatever daze he's found himself in to stop, refocus. The look on your face is terrifying, this he knows, but he's purposely blurred his vision to not see it. He doesn’t want to see how you looked, in this state especially. He blocked you out of his life for years, he could carry through with it once more as he contemplated what to do.

Should he break all the boy's bones and watch him suffer? or should he kill him quick?

Either option is very new to Eren’s physical vocabulary, though he doesn't care about the outcome, he cares that you'll benefit from Floch's discipline. And so with a wise decision, Erens knuckles his fist white, and aims for the gingers face that's still contorting in pleasure from your sounds, knocking him out clean.

Your stomach finally relaxes from its abused high, clinging to the only figure it possibly can. You can't think of Eren’s state or how he feels, and so selfishly you crawl over your partially discarded clothes, snatching the knelt boy in your grasp who greets you with open arms.

Your chest is almost bare to him against the thinness of his shirt, breath heavy, uneven, and god you're embarrassed to even look at him. You don't want to close your eyes either in fear of replaying this entire experience all over again, so you keep your gaze towards the medals long forgotten on the ground. Eren doesn’t want to rub your back, stroke your worries away about a situation so traumatizing, so he hugs your form tight, pressing his lips against your trembling forehead. He attempts to pull your clothes back on from the position you two are in, and he realizes how long it's been since he last held you like this, you cried just like you were now. Why is it when you finally received a moment to yourselves it always had to be in a situation where you were harmed?

No matter the reason, perhaps it'd be best if he told a director about this event first. He was already in enough trouble as it is, If this story spread to the children their mouths would never close. But does he really need to keep this on the down-low? Events like this should be argued over, fought against and here he was the only witness to see. Forget every other problem in his head, you were a priority and that deserved to be spoken on. Eren broke his own promise to himself and suffered consequences he didn't even know were possible, so from now on you would truly fall above all, you weren't leaving his sight.

Fuck promises, this was an oath.

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