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worldismyne · 2 years

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Almost Home Ch 3

Summary: Harv takes shelter in a strange castle in the middle of the woods on his way back home. He only planned on staying one night. It’s just, there always seems to be a reason why it’d be a good idea to stay just one more night.

AU - Finn and Harv meet years after graduating.

Rating: M (for later chapters)

Pairing: Harv/Finn

Series: Warrior U

Ao3 link

Old habits died hard. Now that he wasn't painfully exhausted, Harv found himself waking up at the crack of dawn, the sunrise melting into a brilliant white light. He pulled back the curtains, a cloud of dust mimicking the heavy snow fall outside. Cold air seeped through the glass, a grim reminder that Harv would soon find himself in the thick of it again. He sighed and looked over at the pile of old boxes. Ornate trinkets and golden bells poked up out the tops of them, covered in dust after they had been shoved away so unceremoniously. There wasn't much to do while he waited, though he could start gathering what little things he had brought with him.

His gear!

He exited his room and ran down stairs despite being half dressed. A handful of bells trembled as he roughly opened the front door. Snow was packed tight through the iron gate at nose height. All he could think about was his livelihood buried under the ice. The leather straps were bound to be soaked through and there was no way to dig it out safely without inviting in the weather.

From upstairs there was a flurry of clatters and bangs as Finn readied a crossbow and aimed it at the door from the top of the stairs. Harv turned, the last thing he was expecting to see was his host armed, wearing nothing but a sheer feather robe and lacy briefs. Finn breathed a sigh of relief when he realized no one was at the door.

"Harvey, you nearly gave me a heart attack!" He lowered his weapon and leaned against the wall. "I thought someone broke in."

"I don't think anyone's getting in here for a while." Harv looked back at the wall of snow.

"Oh..." Finn didn't sound disappointed in the least. "Well, there's no amount of staring that will change the weather." Harv slowly closed the door. "I don't know about you, but I've worked up quite the appetite." He set the crossbow down on a runner table in the hallway and made his way downstairs. Harv looked up at the ceiling. The robe and lace left very little to the imagination, more sky-blue accents then clothes, especially since Finn hadn't bothered to close the robe before grabbing a weapon. It was rude to stare directly at people's bodies, even if they were decorated in pretty sheer fabrics and lace. Finn came up next to him and looked up at the same spot on the ceiling. "What are you looking at?"

"Nothing." Harv took in a deep breath and looked back at Finn's tousled hair and inquisitive eyes; somehow this was leaving him just as flustered.

"Alright... so, food?" Finn raised his brow with a wry smile. "What?"

"Nothing." Harv shook his head. "I'm just." He couldn't remember where the kitchen was from last night. Finn kept looking at him with this goofy grin like there was some joke only he was privy to. "I'm sorry, I never meant to force you to shelter me for so long."

"What are you apologizing for? You have no more say over the weather than I do." Finn crossed his arms. "Do I look put out to you?" Harv glanced down at his frame and he had to agree, Finn was very comfortable in his own home.

"Then quit apologizing already. You're not the unwanted company you seem to think you are."

"Oh." Harv was almost touched, then Finn turned around to start walking toward the kitchen and Harv immediately had to look at the ceiling again. There was no safe place to look, it seemed. He managed to follow his host by keeping his eyes trained at the ground and navigating by sound. He was thankful for the excuse to immediately sit at the table in silence while Finn fetched things from the kitchen out of sight. Finn returned with an assortment of biscuits and tea, not the most filling of breakfasts, but there was only so much one could do in this scenario. He kept his eyes firmly on the woodgrain of the table until he heard Finn take a seat at the head of the table. "How long do these storms tend to last?" He asked once he was confident his voice wouldn't waver to an odd pitch. He had heard in the past of people getting stuck at inns for weeks at a time in colder regions.

"I think the longest around here was five days?" Finn hummed as he nibbled on a shortbread. "Hard to say, I'm not terribly outdoorsy even when the weather is pleasant." That was way too long, too much food and resources to devote to someone who lifted an ax for a few hours.

"Is there anything else you need done?" He'd heard the way the doors creak and seen the dust pile up in all corners of the house. There was just no way for one person to upkeep a home this large and work all the time. Some things were bound to have slipped through the cracks.

"I guess the floor could use some sweeping if you're that bored." Finn hummed, so used to the decline of the house it didn't register as something in need of fixing. "You really don't have to." Harv was all too aware of every slight movement Finn took as he sipped at his tea and realized if he had nothing to busy himself with, he very well might go stir crazy.

"There has to be something else I could do." Every time the feather lining of the robe shifted; the image burned itself into a place in Harv's mind. Not from horror or scandal, but definitely with the intention to replay the moment on loop once Harv was alone. "Anything at all."

"I mean you're more than welcome to poke around and tidy up, just don't move things without asking first. The last thing I need is my things being put away for safekeeping. I always forget where things are once they're out of sight." That explained the vast assortment of untouched boxes. "Oh, and there are a few rooms I'd rather leave untouched for sentimental reasons." For a brief moment it felt like Finn was some place far in the past. "I'll put ribbons on the handles.. Something bright... It's easier to just leave them be." He took a moment to breathe and pulled himself back to the present. "I should probably take advantage of the unexpected extension and actually write something." He stuck his tongue out. "If you're working and I'm lazing about I'll feel bad. No time like the present I suppose."

"Aren't you going to get dressed first?" Harv choked out, quick to look back at his biscuits before Finn could step away from the table. He could hear Finn snickering and biting his lip.

"I will if you do." Finn started laughing once Harv looked down and realized he never bothered to fetch his tunic from the bedroom floor. "Oh, but I do have so many nice things I've barely had a chance to wear. It would be a shame to waste this opportunity." As long as it covered half of Finn, Harv was certain he'd be able to hold a normal conversation again without feeling so self conscious. "You know, now that I think about it, there may be some things that fit you in the old boudoir. I completely forgot about mother's little trophies." Harv didn't have the heart to ask what Finn meant by trophies, more distracted by the mention of a lady of the house.

"Should I greet her, or-" Harv started to stammer, but quickly cut himself off when he saw Finn's smile fade.

"That's very thoughtful of you, but I'm afraid you're a few years too late for that." Finn sighed. "I think she would have liked you." He clapped his hands together and tried to shake off the morose feeling once more.

"I'm sorry."

"It's fine, like I said, there are some things we have no say over."

-v-

The state of the house started to paint a clearer picture to Harv as he busied himself greasing hinges and throwing away all the useless evidence of life that had been set down and walked away from. Harv's father had always said there were certain roles caretakers and wives took on that tended to crumble by the wayside if a man was left alone with no instruction. Finn's mother's passing had been sudden in nature, not that Harv felt comfortable prying. He could feel it in small ways throughout the house. The bottles in the bathroom that he wasn't allowed to touch the first day were her's, there were books that had been set down in odd places with intact layers of dust on the covers, empty cups sat on end tables and forgotten; it was as if time had frozen in these small parts of the house. The boxes in his temporary room were full of yuletide decorations that hadn't been put up, not because the holiday had passed, but because Finn hadn't seen the point in decorating an empty house.

The trophies Finn had dug up were random articles of clothing from ex-lovers of her's over the years. Finn was actually able to cobble together a few ill-fitting outfits from the things that had been left behind.

"You'd be surprised how quickly a man could run out that door the minute a child walks in asking if he's going to be their new father." Finn chuckled. "It was devastating the first time, but the older I got the funnier it became." He handed Harv a blank tunic, no matter how he looked at it, it must have belonged to a knight of some kind. "You can keep them. I really have no use for these things." A gift given on 25 th was usually an omen of the year to come. Harv had no clue what second-hand goods would foretell. He looked at the detailed embroidery, even though it was dated, it was nicer than anything anyone in his family had worn.

"I wanted to show you something." Harv led Finn into the sitting room where the bells and greenery had been strung up. Fresh candles flickered in clean holders. "I wasn't sure where exactly everything usually went, but I tried. Did I get close?" Finn shook his head, keeping his hands in front of his face to hide his expression. The small sniffles and swallows he made were more than enough to tell the bard was close to tears.

"No, it's all in different places." Finn put down his hands and smiled at Harv. "It's perfect. Harvey, you really didn't have to do this." Even with all his years training to channel emotions into lyrics, Finn struggled to put into words the rush of emotions having so much new life in the house made him feel. He was happy, he felt guilty, it was like breathing for the first time after being underwater and fearing if he'd sink back under far too soon. It was silly to have the house like this when everything would just have to be put away in less than a week, but that week wouldn't be spent by himself in the dark. It was all so much to take in at once.

"Is there anything else you need help with around here?" All day Harv had been running around trying to fix things, as if he hadn't done enough yet.

"Did you pick up anything about song writing on the road?" Finn loathed how thick with emotion his voice sounded, his nose threatening to drip. He felt so gross all over his face, but Harv still looked at him with kindness.

"Not in the slightest." Harv shook his head. "I'm the last person you should ask to write something if I'm perfectly honest."

"Darn." Finn said without an ounce of ill will. "Guess I'll have to do my job."

"You didn't get anything written?" Harv asked with concern. He'd had half the day.

"Well, since we're being honest." Finn rolled his eyes. "I haven't written much of anything in a few months, and the stuff I have has been nonsensical drivel. I mean, really, the worst hodge podge of cliches and chords I could muster up. Not that anyone's minded. New songs are new songs, no matter how derivative they are." He had blinked away the last of his tears, finally feeling like himself again. "Of course, now I have a few ideas, but you should have seen me a few hours ago, I was in a fierce staring match with a blank page."

"Maybe you should take a break."

"You're right, tapping a dry well won't produce more water." Finn pondered a bit. "You should too. You're stuck away from home during the holidays, surely there's something your family used to do that you wouldn't want to miss. Why don't we do that?"

"Finn, you really don't have to..." Finn grabbed him by the arm and gave him a little shake.

"I want to. Come on, dig deep."

"Can we keep the fire going?" Harv looked at the roaring hearth, a reflection of the flame dancing on every bell and glass decoration. Finn was a bit taken aback.

"That's it?"

"I mean, it's tradition," Harv felt awkward trying to explain it, "you just keep the fire lit until the holiday's over. It's symbolic." Finn gave him a hearty pat on the back.

"As long as you cough up the firewood you can keep the fire burning as long as you want Harvey. But I was thinking of something a little more activity based." There were two things that immediately came to mind. One was a game of 'The King Who Does Not Lie', which given the morning they had, Harv wasn't quite comfortable putting himself in a position where fibbing was off the table. Even if forced truths always made for entertaining stories around the fireplace. The other involved using the kitchen, which Finn was cautious about letting Harv into.

"Mom used to make these little cakes around this time." He saw Finn wince.

"Do you know how to make them, because I'm rubbish in the kitchen. My skills extend to putting a kettle on and that's about it."

"I mean, I think I could." Harv felt like he knew the answer to his next question. "What ingredients do you have?" This time, it was Finn's turn to look at nothing on the ceiling.

-v-

Harv had always grown up in a two-room house, not having the space to put things in designated rooms. He'd never been in a noble's home like this, so he wasn't entirely sure what everything was. He recognized basic things like workspaces and knife blocks; but there was nothing in the fire pit. Instead, the long counter had two boxes built into it with hinges and a set of four black coils with knobs. Dishes were tucked away on shelves, but the only food items Harv could find was sugar and buns that had been delivered to the house.

"Oh, you're not going to find anything out here." Finn walked up to a white set of double doors and opened one of them. There were various uncovered full plates, but everything was already prepared and plated. "What do we need?" Harv looked between the strange cabinets in bewilderment.

"Eggs, milk, flour, and yeast." Harv muttered.

"Milk might be a tricky one." Finn closed the door and wandered to a different door with a slate hanging on it. Finn picked up a piece of white stone from a bowl. "But for dry goods this should do fine." He wrote a word on the slate and then opened the door. Snow covered hills greeted them. Finn slammed the door shut and whipped the dust off the slate. "Fickle thing. It used to work fine, but nowadays if I don't spell it exactly like the other person, I get nothing. Let's see, how would you spell flour?"

"Finn, I told you, I don't really write."

"That's what I'm counting on."

"How about, F-L-A..." Harv frowned. "W-R?" Finn scribbled each letter on the slate with a frown and opened the door again. Large bags of flour were sitting on neatly spaced shelves.

"There we go! See, I wouldn't have thought of 'A'" Finn started collecting stuff and setting them down on the counter. There were more cauldrons in the kitchen than cookware. Most of the jarred goods had odd labels even though they contained different kinds of roots and seeds. Finn didn't have a cooking staff because the food was delivered by magic. Harv felt like such a fool. Of course, the house decorated with ravens in the middle of the woods belonged to someone that practiced magic. And the bottles in the bathroom didn't just look like potions, they were potions.

"You're a witch." Harv said with dawning horror. Finn looked up from his arrangement of eggs with a confused frown.

"No?" He said it with such conviction, Harv wanted to believe it. He couldn't though, not with Finn sticking a lit match into one of the large boxes that turned nothing into a roaring flame with wire racks. "How hot does the oven have to be for a cake?"

"You put a pan on a baking stone once the fire starts to ash." Harv said slowly. "I don't know what an oven is." Finn frowned and pointed at the box filled with fire with a questioning look. "That... is witchcraft Finn." Harv said.

"Are you sure?"

"I am quite sure. Sometimes the baker has a large kiln to protect the baking stones," he kept his tone even, "but that thing doesn't act like any kiln I've ever seen." He watched Finn puzzle between him and the oven. "The um, the closets you keep pulling stuff out of, those too."

"Well of course that's magic, but the oven?" They were going to be together for a few more days, if not weeks. Harv couldn't afford accidentally offending his 'not a witch' host with thoughtless comments fueled by fear. "It's only a few years old, maybe you just haven't seen this model?" He really wanted to believe Finn wasn't a witch, that Finn had grown accustomed to the odd things in the house much like the creaking doors. But he had names for the oddities, he knew how to work them too well.

"My mother's recipe says to put the pot in the fire once it's a quarter full of ash. If we do it any other way, it won't be right." He saw Finn shrug and turn a knob that doused the flame.

"You're the boss." Finn smiled at him.

"One last question, where do those things come from?" Harv pointed at the pile of ingredients, slowly suspecting they were stolen if not spoiled.

"I don't know; around." Finn shrugged. "So, what do we do first?"

Harv walked him through the recipe and decided Finn would be the one to taste test everything, just in case. If the food from the 'pantry' and 'fridge' were cursed in any way, he'd already eaten enough to kill a horse. So, clearly it wasn't overtly harmful, but it made Harv feel better to see Finn fearlessly tasting the batter off his fingertips. Anything the bard felt was safe to eat clearly wasn't that dangerous. Going through the motions of something familiar also helped put him at ease once more. He went to get firewood for something that looked similar to a cooking pit, but Finn grabbed his wrist.

"Not that one, just in case." Finn seemed hesitant in the face of potential fear. "The one in the sitting room, that should do, shouldn't it?"

"Sure." Harv sighed.

#warrior u #WU Fanfic archive #harvfinn #little finnharv things #Merry Christmas everyone posting this early for the holidays

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kentopedia · 9 months

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.𖥔 ݁ ˖ LET YOUR HEART BE LIGHT — LEVI ACKERMAN

summary . . . your childhood best friend, eren, invites you to his christmas eve party, but your ex is going to be there. in order to get back at him, levi tags along as your fake boyfriend

contents . . . sfw, fake dating, f!reader, age gap (levi early 30s, reader early 20s), past unhealthy relationships, pining, fluff, humor, miscommunication, light angst, insecure and shy reader, zeke jaeger :/, not so friends to lovers, bff hange, she/they prns for hange — 12.3k

notes . . . my bday gift for my beloved that i have been speeding through the past couple of days, so pls ignore any errors. i adore him so dearly and he means so much to me. it's a little bit cheesy, and may be a little be rushed for christmas, but i hope you enjoy nonetheless. merry christmas everyone i love u all so so much <33

“Are you even listening to me, Hange?” you asked, sighing as you leaned your head back on the sofa, taking a long sip of your wine. The alcohol washed over you, soothed the tension that was wrought within your body as the warmth began buzzing through you.

Hange poked their head up from the simmering pot, a cloud of steam wafting up under the lid. With the combination of vegetables and spices, you were pretty sure that she was making stew for dinner — and far too much for just two of you, by the looks of it.

“Sorry,” Hange said, sheepish, glasses falling down her nose. “I’m almost done, I promise.”

You frowned, but waved your hand, letting them return to the kitchen. Hange hummed a tune, their delightful mood such a contrast to the horrific news you’d received earlier in the day.

Briefly, your mind wandered off into the misery you’d let yourself wallow in, but Hange came around the corner quickly, stilling your anger. There were two bowls in their hands, and they gave one to you, letting it warm your own palms, the smell deliciously comforting.

“So what’s this about your ex?” Hange asked, interested, their voice expressive, attentive, as usual. “You got invited to his party?”

The scalding spoonful of soup slid down your throat, as you prepared yourself to start the conversation from the beginning. Hange was a horrible multitasker, though she denied it, and your entire half-hour of rambling had gone in one ear, and out the other.

Though, just as you were about to speak, you were interrupted once more by a knocking at the front door. You glanced over to the source of the noise, then back to your roommate, eyebrows raised. “Are you expecting company?”

Hange laughed a little; it was such a carefree sound, and one that always seemed to be spilling from their lips. “Oh, it’s just Levi. I told him I was making a lot of stew, so he could come over for dinner.”

Of course — Who else would be banging at your door at this hour?

You sighed, the sound leaving you in something akin to a small whisper, your expression falling in disappointment.

Levi Ackerman lived on the floor below you, in an apartment you’d never been to, living a life you knew almost nothing about. It had been two years since you’d met, when he helped Hange move into your shared apartment, and yet, he was still an enigma after all that time.

What you did know was that Levi was a few years older than Hange, many more years older than you, and he always seemed to be around. He was quiet, for the most part, but he had a sarcastic sense of humor that only a few people seemed to understand. Him and Hange were comfortable joking with each other; your roommate never got offended by his comments, ones that would’ve been scandalizing to some others.

For a while, their comfort with one another had led you to believe they were dating. You’d asked Hange about it one day at dinner, a fleeting comment, as you stuck a fork into your dish.

“So how long have you and Levi been together?” you’d said.

Hange had shot water out of their nose, fell back in their chair, cackling so hard that tears sprang to their eyes. You’d only stared back like an idiot, poked at your food, until Hange sobered, and apologized for embarrassing you.

“Oh, it’s not like that,” Hange explained, sipping on their soda, still smiling like you’d told the funniest joke imaginable. “Levi and I are just close friends. My partner lives a few hours away, going back to school. He’ll be moving back home in a year.”

You’d supposed it made sense, looking back. Their embraces were often stiff on Levi’s end, his affection coming on minimally. Hange was a much more touchy person, so perhaps, that’s where you’d crafted the image of them in a relationship.

Which was a silly one, now that you could see your error in hindsight.

“And Levi?” you’d asked shortly after, curious about the man you’d known—and still knew—so little about.

“Oh, Levi’s not with anyone,” Hange had hummed, rolling their eyes like this was a point of contention. “He doesn’t really date.”

“Why?”

“He doesn’t like to.”

“Oh.”

That’d been that, of course.

You hadn’t asked any other questions, but in the months that followed, your mind had whirled, piecing together an image of Levi Ackerman that made the most sense to you.

He was handsome; startlingly so. Beautiful to the point that you averted your gaze when he glanced at you, your cheeks heating, palms sweaty. A thirty-something, intelligent, quiet man with his act together. He drew women to him easily, took them back home. . . perhaps a different one every night. Maybe he kept them around for a bit, until he got bored of them.

He’d never romance them, and they’d never expect that from him. If he called them back, which he did rarely, it was never because he liked them. It was because he wanted something from them, nothing more.

At least, that’s what you thought Levi Ackerman was like, in the times he was outside of the four walls of your apartment. Perhaps your stiffness towards him continued to stem from that caricature you’d created.

You sighed, bringing yourself back to the present as Hange let Levi in through the door, his shoes loud against the hardwood.

Really, it was hard not to form biased opinions when Levi offered up so little about himself.

When you did talk with him, which was frequently, the conversations always centered around you. He had asked you many times about school when you’d been finishing up your degree; Levi asked you about your job when you’d first started.

Of course, he never offered anything up about his job, which you knew must have been quite nice, nor about his family, which you figured must have been quite complicated.

And, as always, you were forced to wipe your hands on your pants, the sweat turning your palms clammy, as you scolded yourself for the fact that Levi Ackerman still made you nervous.

Levi’s eyes flitted across the room as he walked in, the navy blue irises cool when they met your own. He didn’t smile, but he made some sort of acknowledgement of your existence, before Hange had dragged him into the kitchen and filled up a bowl of soup for him.

Moments later, he was on one of the chairs before you, the bottle of wine in the middle of your odd little circle. Unconsciously, you had sucked in a breath, looking away, as Levi prodded at his bowl like he was afraid of the contents.

“Well, it’s not going to jump out and eat you,” Hange rolled her eyes, snickering, at Levi’s bored expression. “Just try it, Levi.”

“It smells different. What the hell did you do to it?” Levi let the spoonful fall back into the bowl, the broth dripping off the edge of the silverware. “I’m not participating in any kinds of experiments, Hange, if that’s what this is.”

“Oh, be grateful.” Hange huffed, crossing their arms over their chest. “I followed a recipe. If you don’t want it, I’ll take it down the hall to Erwin.”

When Levi said nothing for another moment, Hange made a move to steal the bowl out of his hands.

Quickly, he guided it away.

“No, no. I’ll eat it. Your cooking may be horrendous, but it certainly saves me time.”

Hange smiled, satisfied, reading between Levi’s cool remark, sensing a thank you in there somewhere.

It had been hard, at first, to talk to Levi, and understanding him was a skill that you’d found you could only develop with time. He had a dry sense of humor, said very little with a smile, and could certainly be mean when he wanted to be. His words were often blunt, and even when he was joking, it was hard to tell.

Once, when you’d first met, Levi had hurt your feelings. You’d tried not to let it show, but Hange had known, as always, and had squeezed your shoulder, reassuring.

“Levi’s just like that sometimes, but he’s a good person. Just give him a chance. I think you’ll find you’re a lot more similar than you think.”

Similar was a bit far-fetched, but you supposed you’d grown to appreciate Levi’s sense of humor. Perhaps you even found him funny at times, laughed at his jokes. He was kind when he wanted to be, even if his communication was a one-way street. There was a distance between you, but a part of you wanted to keep it that way.

Levi ate a spoonful of the soup, swirling it around in his mouth before swallowing. His gaze trailed to the ceiling, thoughtful, before muttering some sort of praise. “Surprisingly better than the last stew you made, Hange,” he said, and Hange was pleased, a smile widening across her face. “I assume your roommate had nothing to do with it, did she?”

You made a face at him, not sure if he was insulting you, or trying to suggest that you could’ve improved Hange’s cooking. Either way, you returned his dry tone, swirling your spoon around in the bowl. “Well, if I did, it certainly wasn’t to please your fussy tastes.”

Levi almost cracked a smile at that, but snorted instead, leaning back in the cushion of his chair.

For some reason, Levi’s movement seemed to trigger Hange’s memory, and they flung their spoon out of the bowl, splashing soup on the coffee table, as they pointed it at you.

“Wait, finish your story!” Hange cut off Levi’s sentence, and he frowned, but said nothing, getting comfortable on the couch.

Today, he was wearing a gray cable-knit sweater, and a beautiful silver watch that likely cost an entire months worth of your salary. His hair had been mussed a bit from the cold, cheeks tinged red.

Levi must have come from outside, you’d realized, not just downstairs. Another mystery that you would never uncover — how Levi spent his weekends, besides the time he spent in your apartment.

Distracted, you looked back down at your hands, hating the way that Levi pinned you with his gaze. He was far too attentive, his eyes too intense; even if you had been as confident as you liked to believe, as self-assured, you’d never been able to hold eye-contact with the dark-haired man for very long.

“Oh, that,” you said, huffing, recalling the news that had been delivered to you earlier that evening. Not so bad, really; you were making a big deal out of something so small. But the casual remark, via a text message from your high school best-friend, had been enough to sour your mood for the rest of the afternoon. “Well, Eren is having a party on Christmas Eve. All of our high school friends will be back home for the holidays, so I’ll actually get to see them for once.”

Hange smiled, their eyes lighting up, but the confusion in her expression shone through knitted eyebrows. “Well, that’s great!” they said, as Levi sat quietly, slurping on his soup like he’d been raised in some penthouse apartment, a view shining over the city. You could imagine him with a nanny that had been specifically hired to teach him manners. A playful version of Levi as a child was near impossible to envision — you saw him only sitting calmly, politely, hands crossed over his lap. “Why do you seem so upset?”

You looked away, chewing the inside of your mouth, your stomach turning. It was the last thing you wanted to think about, the way your two desires were at odds. How desperately you wanted to see all your old friends, the ones that were spread all over. None of you had been all together since you were in high school.

Yet, the other part of you considered calling Eren and canceling on him, telling him you wanted to spend it with your family instead, that you’d just have to catch up with them next time.

Who knew when that would be.

“Zeke’s coming,” you sighed, rubbing your arm. “It’s only been a year. I don’t want to see him again.”

Hange’s eyes widened. Slowly, she leaned back, nodding, as understanding flicked through her face. “I see.”

“Exactly,” you swallowed the last bit of soup, letting the warmth comfort you, wash over you in waves. Perhaps, it would cleanse some of the anxiety that sat riddled in your chest. “Now you see…”

“Well, sure I mean—”

“Who the hell is Zeke?” Levi interrupted, drawing your attention back to him, his back straight, despite being relaxed in the chair. Everything about him was so put together. Even the socks he wore even seemed expensive, his shoes by the door freshly shined. “An ex-boyfriend?”

“Ex-boyfriend seems too kind of a word for Zeke Jaeger,” you spat, letting his name drip from your mouth with every ounce of hatred you could muster. “He’s a plague upon my life. I’d do anything not to see him again.”

Levi set the bowl down, curiosity piqued. “I don’t see why your friend invited him if he’s so horrible.”

“Zeke is Eren’s brother,” Hange offered.

“Half-brother,” you corrected, tucking your knees into your chest to rest your chin against them. “Don’t give him that much credit. Eren’s an idiot, but even he doesn’t deserve to be related to someone as awful as Zeke.”

Hange laughed, though you didn’t find it to be as hilarious as they did. Your scowl deepened.

“Anyway, Eren’s throwing it at his parent’s house since they’ll be out for the night — Zeke invited himself. With his new girlfriend, I’m sure.” Your rolled your eyes, tucking your cheek against the couch cushion. “She’ll be better than me, of course. Probably prettier.”

Levi studied you for a moment, reading the hurt that you tried to veil on your face. Usually, you weren’t so open with him. You didn’t like being vulnerable, and especially not with Levi, who seemed to view any emotion as a weakness. “I see the issue.”

You huffed, a sound of agreement, and played with the loose thread on the sofa. “Yeah, well, it was stupid of me to date my best friend’s brother anyway. When has that ever worked out?”

Hange reached across the coffee table to squeeze your hand, sympathetic. “Hey. Don’t do that. What’s done is done. Besides, what are the odds he’ll actually show up?”

“Uh, pretty fucking high if he’s staying with his dad for Christmas,” you scowled, rubbing your eye, makeup smeared on the side of it when you drew away.

Hange’s lips pulled together, flattening into a thin line. “Well…” Dark brown eyes flitted between you and Levi, who was looking at your roommate with something less than amusement. “You could always take Levi as your date.”

“You can’t be serious,” Levi said, his tone flat, lips drawing into a thin line.

“What? That’s… No,” you laughed awkwardly, growing hot, nervous. Suddenly, you were worried that your panicked stutter made it seem like this had been your plan all along. To get Levi to come as your date — which was ridiculous, really, but perhaps not so farfetched with the way he regarded you. “I can’t do that.”

“Why? It’d be a big old fuck you to Zeke Jaeger. Levi is far better looking than him.” Hange gestured to Levi, as if you weren’t already painfully aware of how beautiful their best friend was. “He’s better in almost every way, actually. Not that the bar is very high.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Levi asked, poking Hange on the side of the head. “Almost every way?”

“Zeke’s pretty tall.”

Levi rolled his eyes, dismissive. “Like that matters.”

“It does!”

You stopped them before they could bicker any further. Hange seemed to make it their mission to always rile Levi up — not that it was very difficult, but it always brought an amused smile to her lips.

“Hange’s right, though. The bar is not so high.” You shrugged, curling in on yourself again — just another reminder of how much of a mistake you’d made. How desperate you must have been to have fallen for Zeke Jaeger. Even Eren had warned you about him. “It’s a stupid idea, though. No one would believe it. Least of all, Zeke.”

“Why not?” Levi said. “You think I’d be a bad boyfriend. Think I can’t play that role well?”

“That’s not—” you began, but let the words fall away, sniffing back the self-deprecating sentiment. It wasn’t that you needed him to seem like a good boyfriend. Levi was unapproachable, cold, reserved, regardless of who he was with… Even his best friend. It would take very little from him to sell the performance. A small smile, a hand around your waist. Perhaps a kiss on the forehead for good measure.

It wasn’t that, really.

It was more that Zeke would know, immediately. Would see you together, and laugh to himself, because someone like Levi would never want someone like you. A statement as painfully clear as the color of the sky.

You didn’t want to admit that to either of them, though. So, instead, you narrowed your eyes, challenging Levi, perhaps, even, daring him to retract his statement. “Well… can you?”

“Which are you asking?” Levi drummed his fingers against his thigh, pale and slender, his nails clean, neatly trimmed. Distracting, almost. “If I can put on a performance, or if I can be a good partner?”

You shrugged.

Levi’s eyes narrowed further, thoughtful.

“I’ll go with you,” he finally said, after a near minute of silence, in which you weren’t sure what to say. Hange watched beside you, painfully entertained. “I’d like to see how truly awful this boyfriend of yours is.”

“Don’t say boyfriend,” you made a face, “and he’s pretty damn awful.”

The next few days, you’d mapped out something of a plan with Levi — though, there was little between you that you needed to figure out. It wasn’t as if you were strangers. Levi had known vaguely that you’d had a boyfriend up until last Christmas, had known that you were still close with your group of friends from high school.

He knew quite a bit about you, something you only just now realized. Levi often said little, but he was observant, picked things up easily. He seemed to know you better than you thought, and it wouldn’t be difficult to convince everyone of your closeness.

With that knowledge, you calmed, realizing that, maybe, it wouldn’t be so difficult to spin your relationship into a romantic one.

The story followed: Levi had been there for you after Zeke had broken up with you. You’d been friends for a while. He had asked you on a date shortly after. Simple — no outlandish lie.

Still, a part of you contemplated telling Zeke you’d been fucking Levi while you were still together. He probably wouldn’t believe it anyway, but you wanted to see even a hint of frustration on his usually dull expression.

On your way back to your hometown, Levi insisted on driving his car, one that was a few years old, but still had that new smell, every single inch of it outrageously clean, each crack in the cushions vacuumed. There was hardly anything in the vehicle; a pair of sunglasses in the center console, some spare cash next to it.

He’d picked you up with two coffees, which now rested, empty, in the cupholders.

The two of you spent the ride mostly in silence, listening to a Christmas playlist that Levi had awkwardly switched to, as if he’d been embarrassed of whatever he’d been playing before. One hand held the wheel, the other resting against the console, tapping on the leather between you.

You stared, the movement of his fingers distracting. For the second time, you were staring at his slender hands, the veins dark under his skin. How nice they were, like something out of a painting.

God, when did you start noticing that?

“Thank you for the coffee,” you said, realizing your manners all too late, embarrassed you hadn’t said it earlier. “How did you know what I liked?”

Levi glanced over, slowing down as the light turned red. For a moment, he hesitated; contemplated. Pink tongue flicked over his bottom lip as the car idled. “Hange told me.”

“Oh.”

Levi shrugged. “Well, you’re welcome anyway.”

The light turned green. Silence settled between you once again.

You twitched uncomfortably, wondering how much you should say — or shouldn’t say. There weren’t many times you had been together, just the two of you, without Hange somewhere near.

Levi didn’t seem to be in a talkative mood, but then again, he could’ve just been focused on driving. He was gracious enough to take on that responsibility, and you didn’t want to be distracting, even if the near silence was driving you mad. On the other hand, there wasn’t much you wanted to say. Every time you thought of something, a conversation to strike up, it died just as quickly on your lips.

Eventually, Levi seemed to grow tired of the awkwardness between you, how stiff you appeared to be. His eyes darted towards you once again, studying you from the corner of his eye. “If you want people to believe that we’re dating, you’re going to have to stop acting like that.”

You blinked at him, shifting in your seat. “Like what?”

“Like…” Levi shrugged. “Like I’m holding you at gunpoint.”

A laugh bubbled out of you. “What does that mean?”

He gave you a blank expression, certainly calling you an idiot with nothing more than a gaze. “It means you make it blatantly obvious you don’t want to be around me. I know you dislike me, but maybe…” Levi shook his head, dark hair falling into his eyes. “At least try to pretend otherwise.”

Your stomach twisted up as Levi worked his jaw, frustrated, undeniably. For some unknown reason, it made you feel ashamed, even more shy around him than you’d been before. Levi was probably used to women who knew what they wanted. Who could meet his eyes without feeling a sense of shyness creep up their spine. Who could do a lot of things that you couldn’t, and could match his wit and sarcasm without feeling the rush of dread that you’d offended him.

“I don’t dislike you, Levi,” you said, huffing. “I just — don’t think we get along well.”

“That’s news to me,” he said, tapping the gearshift. The music turned down two notches from where he punched the button on the wheel. “Hange says we’re quite compatible.”

“What?” you laughed loudly, ignoring the race of your heart, the furl of anxiety in your chest. “Don’t listen to anything they say — Hange wants to set me up with everyone. You’re hardly the best option.”

Levi, for once, quirked his lips in something near a smile. “Funny. I thought the same thing.”

You scoffed, warm again, crossing your arms over your chest. It was infuriating, really, how you felt around him. Surely you weren’t the only one — Levi radiated confidence and authority, entirely. You’d never seen him interact with many others, but surely they averted their gazes, cheeks warm, stumbling over words. Surely, you couldn’t be the only one who seemed to feel so small under the breadth of his presence.

Another song played before he spoke again, tapping his fingers against the wheel. Familiarity sprung up around you as the landscape began to change, the scenery transforming into one you’d grown up in.

“Why did you date Zeke, anyway?” Levi asked, this time, not bothering to look at you. He stared straight ahead, passing a slower car, the blinker tapping wildly against the dashboard.

You shrugged, scratching your wrist as you looked out the window. How you loathed this topic of conversation. It didn’t matter why you’d dated that man — only that you had, and you regretted it.

You found yourself telling Levi anyway. “He was funny,” you said, quietly, watching the clouds pass above in the sky, dark and gloomy. “He was charming. He liked to read and so did I.”

Levi hummed, but it was dismissive, an acknowledgement of pity and nothing more. Deep down, he was probably laughing, amused at your idiocy. “That’s it?”

“I know it’s stupid… I was stupid,” you said, defensive, curling your hands into fists. “He was my first boyfriend, and I was naive. I wanted to be loved, and Zeke told me he loved me.” You felt the wash of angry tears come back upon you, and you flushed them away, sniffing. “I just didn’t know he’d told two other women the same thing at the same time.”

Levi’s eyes flashed, surprised, as they darted back towards you. “Jesus,” he muttered, fist turning white as it clutched the wheel. “You were right. What a fucking asshole.”

You smiled a bit, shaking your head. For all accounts, Levi could be an asshole in his own way; a comment you decided to keep to yourself.

“Yeah, well, what’s done is done. I don’t give a shit about Zeke Jaeger. He can rot in hell for all I care.” You wiped your face, yawning as the sun began it’s descent in the sky. “I’ve given up on finding love anyway. I just don’t want Zeke to have the satisfaction of knowing it was his fault.” A sigh left you. “Besides, that was probably the point. Our relationship was likely just a way to test some philosophy he’d come up with — nothing matters, least of all love.” You rolled your eyes. “He’s like that.”

Levi didn’t say anything, but you could see him thinking, his eyebrows tied closely together. “But, you know that’s not true, don’t you?” he said, his tone flat, as usual. “You can’t possibly think that you don’t deserve to be loved.”

You smiled. “Of course,” you said, nodding. “I’m just better off without it.”

Levi took a breath, looked over once more, and then let the conversation die.

You hoped it sounded much more convincing to Levi’s ears than your own.

While you were visiting, over the next couple of days, you were staying at Pieck’s apartment. She was two years older, but had been in some of your university courses, and you’d met back in college. You’d found out you were from the same city, and had bonded instantly, having lived such a similar life, in the same place, without even realizing it.

The three of you had grabbed a quick dinner, and when you got back late, Pieck gave you a little tour of her small apartment, showing Levi more than anything, since you’d visited her twice before.

“Here’s the other bedroom,” Pieck said, flipping the switch on. It was a room filled with soft pink decor, the comforter lacy and white. “My roommate is visiting family, so you’re welcome to sleep in here; she doesn’t mind. I’ve cleaned the sheets and everything.”

Levi thanked her, and Pieck smiled sleepily, walking back to her own bedroom with a wave.

You watched as Levi set his bag down, tugged off his thick jacket. He hung it, gently, on the back of the desk chair, unhooking his watch to set it down beside the coat. His wrist looked so bare that way. Nothing to cover it up, exposing the even softer skin where the accessory usually rested.

You looked away. “Is everything okay?” you asked, by way of making your exit, eyes flicking around the room.

Levi glanced up, unfolding a pair of clean clothes from his bag, almost like he’d forgotten you were standing there. “Should something be wrong?” he asked in return, placing a pair of flannel pajama pants next to the gray t-shirt.

For some reason, the image caused your heart to swell, the sight of something so normal within Levi’s grasp. The organ that continuously betrayed you sped up, beating harder.

It was endearing, really, to see such a mundane side of Levi. He always lived in that enigmatic shroud, some sort of ever-present being that you couldn’t quite understand.

You smiled softly. “No. Just wanted to make sure. Goodnight, Levi.”

He said something back, but you were already halfway down the hall, slinging your own bag to Pieck’s room. She was on her side, scrolling through her phone, dark hair splayed across the pillow like a halo. Though, the moment you entered, her attention doubled, eyes crinkling as she grinned.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you said, frowning, as you followed the same routine as Levi, slinging your bag down to pick out a fresh pair of pajamas.

“You didn’t tell me he looked like that,” Pieck muttered, the sound of her voice always tired, no matter how much sleep she got. “Zeke is going to hate him.”

That, at least, had a sense of relief pooling inside you, a laugh spilling out. “I sure hope so.”

She set her phone on the nightstand, laying flat on her back as you continued through your routine. Her introduction to Levi had been brief, but already, she seemed to like him well enough.

Maybe they’d end up together, you thought dimly. Pieck had been single for a while, and you’d always thought she was much more charming than you, much prettier. Perhaps Levi would like her.

The idea put a sour taste in your mouth.

When you returned, face scrubbed, teeth clean, Pieck was nearly asleep, the lamp on her side of the bed the only source of light in the room. She glanced up at you sleepily, batting her eyes before you climbed next to her.

“I can’t believe you,” she said softly, already half-asleep. “How can you stand it?”

“What did I do?”

For a moment, Pieck stared at you like she didn’t know who you were. A yawn left you, even as you tried to hide it.

“Is there something wrong with him? Is that the reason?”

You crinkled your eyebrows together. “Levi?” A million different things ran through your head, but Pieck seemed to want an honest one. “I mean…” Was there, really? Were your speculations and assumptions enough to pass judgement on Levi Ackerman? Or were you just too intimidated by him to admit that he was much nicer than you thought. “Well, you met him, didn’t you?”

She blinked, then laughed, slapping you with the pillow. “You’re so ridiculous. Why aren’t you together then? I mean, actually together?” Pieck hummed, tapping her hand against the pillow, before she tucked it back under her head. “You’ve got hearts in your eyes when you stare at him.”

“What?” you said, bursting into a fit of giggles. You’d thought it was a joke, but Pieck didn’t smile, didn’t even force a laugh alongside you. “I don’t — I’m not.”

“I mean, he clearly likes you quite a bit,” she continued, smiling, “if he came all this way. He listens to you, practically hangs off your every word.” A pause. “Wish someone would look at me like that,” Pieck sighed.

You rolled your eyes. “Levi’s just like that. He’s a good listener.” Although, when it left your lips, the last few words came out slower, more uncertainly. Was he really like that? You could think of plenty of times where he’d blatantly ignored people he didn’t like, left a conversation with a snide comment if he didn’t agree with the subject.

Pieck didn’t seem to believe you, a smile tugging on her lips. “Right. A good listener like you, huh? Listening until you don’t care anymore.” She didn’t give you a chance to respond, your indignant protests enough. “It’s funny. You get so flustered you get when he teases you. I just,” she hesitated, tucking a hand under her cheek. “Well, I just didn’t expect that from you — you weren’t like that with Zeke.”

Again, your cheeks grew hot, your entire body warm. Already, you wanted to kick the covers off, sweat pooling at the backs of your knees. “I’m — No. It’s not. . . Pieck, it’s not.” You buried your face in the pillow, frustrated, hating the grin that curled onto her lips. “Look, I know what you’re thinking, and it’s not like that. He’s just — ” You shook your head, words evading you. “I mean, you’ve seen him.”

Pieck laughed, the sound soft, raspy from exhaustion. “I’m only teasing you,” she whispered, her smile almost wistful. “I know what you mean. He’s older, he’s handsome. He probably knows what he wants.” Then her face grew serious, eyebrows drawing together. “But, I also think you’re not letting yourself admit that you’re attracted to him.”

“Pieck,” you huffed, feeling that itch at the back of your skull, under your skin, that you couldn’t quite scratch. “I’m not. Half of the time, I’m not even sure if I enjoy his company.”

She stared at you for a moment longer, unamused, before rolling back onto her side, facing away from you. “Whatever,” she mumbled, a dismissal, like she truly thought every word that left your lips was a denial. “I think you’re just scared after what happened with Zeke. I think you know Levi is exactly what you’ve always wanted, and you don’t think he could possibly like you.”

You started to protest, maneuvering onto your elbows, but Pieck hushed you, flicked the lamp out.

“Night,” she said, signifying the end of the conversation. “Just… think on it.”

An indignant groan escaped you, as Pieck shut her eyes, her breathing evening out not a moment later. You’d always been jealous of how easily she could fall asleep, while you continued to lie awake in bed, left with nothing but your own thoughts.

Which were certainly not, and would never be, plagued by Levi Ackerman.

Unsurprisingly, Levi had been the first one awake, sitting in the kitchen as he scrolled through his phone, a pair of wired-rimmed reading glasses perched at the edge of his nose. He was already dressed, looking unsurprisingly perfect, while your hair was disheveled, pajamas still on, eyes sleepy.

You’d stared at him awkwardly, embarrassed by your appearance, and ignored his brief greeting before you slinked back into Pieck’s room, putting yourself together rapidly. You refused to speak to him until you were ready to leave.

Pieck was spending the rest of the weekend with her father, so you and Levi were left to your own devices for the day. You decided to take him around the town, showing him all the places you used to frequent. It was nostalgic, showcasing your city to a man who’d never been here, wouldn’t know the depth of your memories, those that were tied to a smell, a scene, a sound.

Levi was, to your surprise, quite interested in the places that you’d been around as a child. As usual, he asked many questions, digging into your past without offering anything in return. And, as usual, you let him, all too excited to reminisce about the grade school where you’d met Eren Jaeger, the restaurant you’d always gone to with Sasha.

It warmed you, how caring he could be — something you’d always known, but perhaps, hadn’t really paid attention to until Pieck pointed it out. Levi did seem to take everything you said to heart, store it in some memory bank with your name labeled right on it. He remembered things you hadn’t even known you’d told him, but must have, at some point.

When it neared noon, you took him to a coffee shop that you used to study at, right around the corner from your old school. It was still the same as it had been back then, like nothing had changed at all.

“It’s nice that you have such fond memories,” he said, and there was a small smile on his lips as the two of you entered the cafe, the smell overtaking you almost immediately.

You laughed, shrugging. “It’s better in hindsight.” There’d been times when all you wanted to do was leave. Now, you couldn’t help but miss it.

Levi ordered your coffees, and though you’d protested, trying to push your card in his direction, he paid for the both of them, and waited at the end of the bar while you saved a table. Once again, he’d gotten your coffee order correct, but now that you were able to read the side of his cup, you noticed it wasn’t coffee at all, but actually tea — Earl Grey, steaming, far to hot to drink when he took the lid off.

“Are you not a coffee drinker?” you asked, and for some reason, Levi seemed surprised by the question, his eyes flashing.

“Not really,” he admitted, his hands folded around the paper cup. “Sometimes, if I don’t get much sleep the night before, but—” Levi shrugged. “It makes my hands shake, which does nothing but irritate me.”

You smiled, letting the words sink in. Levi didn’t seem like the type of person to dislike coffee, but he sipped at his tea slowly, huffing as you blinked back at him.

“What’s the matter?” he asked. “It’s not a crime to dislike something, is it?”

“No,” you said, looking back down at your drink, antsy. His mouth was drawn flat, unamused as always… This time, though, you couldn’t help but admire the curve of his cupid’s bow, the plushness of his lower lip, which was such a contrast to the color of his pale cheeks. “It just surprised me, is all. You never tell me anything about yourself.”

Levi’s eyebrows rose to his hairline. “Well, you’ve didn’t ask. You never do.”

You opened your mouth, then shut it, thinking through all the conversations you’ve had, all the questions you’ve answered, but never returned. “Usually a conversation is two-sided,” you supplied, leaning forward, accusatory. “I share things about myself, and the other person does so in return.”

Levi’s lips lifted up, nearly a smile. “I’m not really the type of person to spill my heart out unprovoked.” He took a long sip of the tea, glancing out the window at the snowy sidewalk. “If you really cared, you would ask. I won’t bother anyone with useless anecdotes about my life.”

You watched the movement of his hands as he set the cup down, fiddled with the lid beside it. “So that’s all?” you asked, unamused. “All this time, I’ve thought you were some great mystery, and you were just waiting for me to return your questions?”

Levi snorted, though there was a hint of humor in his gaze, flashing from the Christmas lights that were strung around the shop. “Don’t blame me — I’ve always been honest with you,” he supplied, matching your posture. “Maybe you’re just a poor conversationalist, and you’ve made assumptions about me that aren’t true.” Though his tone was clipped, there was still a sense of disappointment in his words.

You let his words sink in, opening your mouth, then shutting it, silencing your protests.

Levi sighed, spinning the conversation towards your evening, rehashing the plan for any questions that might arise. Though you nodded, engaged, your mind was still on his confession, the words gnawing at you.

It was true, you realized with disappointment. Levi had never avoided any questions you’d asked him outright, had always given you a small smile, before carefully answering. You had, really, been avoiding him — perhaps, for no reason at all.

That evening, you arrived at the party just a few minutes after six, when Eren had told you to arrive. Many of your friends were already there, the street lined with cars that you didn’t recognize.

Unsurprisingly, Eren was the one to answer the door, throwing it open and pulling you into a hug before you even had time to react. Your name left his lips in an excited exclamation, and you breathed in the familiarity of him, a deep-rooted nostalgia at the sight of someone you’d known for so long.

“It’s so good to see you,” Eren said, even though it had only been a few months since you’d last gotten together, not years, like it might have felt.

His hair was longer than when it had been when you last saw him, and he’d bulked up a bit, but otherwise, hadn’t changed. That was a comfort in itself, just like the smell of Carla and Grisha Jaeger’s house, the furniture that had been the same since you were an adolescent.

Eren guided you through the door before glancing over your shoulder, noticing Levi for the first time. His eyes widened, green eyes electric as your name left his lips, aghast.

“You didn’t tell me you were bringing someone!” Eren’s posture straightened, and suddenly, he was on his best behavior, trying hard to impress the man that you’d brought with you.

Levi gave him a once-over, glanced over to you, and then stuck out his hand politely. “Levi Ackerman,” he said, shaking it. “You must be Eren—”

But Eren’s attention was already caught by another part of the conversation. He shook his Levi’s quickly, not bothering to answer the greeting, before saying, “Ackerman? Maybe a long-shot, but do you know my girlfriend, Mikasa?”

Surprise flashed in Levi’s irises as he followed Eren inside, nodding. “Actually, she’s my cousin.”

At the same time, across the room, a familiar voice shouted Levi’s name, running over to throw her arms around him. Mikasa’s body rammed against Levi’s shorter frame, and despite his strength, he let out a small puff of air, shocked, as she crashed into him.

“Levi, what are you doing here?” Mikasa said, smiling softly, before releasing him, returning to her normal, calm self. “I had no idea you knew—” A pause, as she flicked her eyes between you, puzzling the pieces together. Her palms covered her mouth, but a sharp squeak emitted from her throat, excitement. “You two are together?”

You hadn’t even gotten the chance to greet her, but Mikasa held you close, her perfume so familiar, hair soft against your cheek.

“What a crazy coincidence — I had no idea… Well, of course, it makes sense. You’re so perfect for each other. I can’t believe I didn’t think of introducing you earlier.” Mikasa rambled on, uncharacteristically, and even Eren seemed surprised as he darted his gaze between you. “How did you meet?” she said.

Levi sighed, perpetually put-out, and followed Mikasa to one of the couches.

You sat with him, but stayed silent for the most part, enjoying watching them interact, smiling at the sight of him so comfortable. Levi spun the story of how you’d “ended up together,” and you offered a few nods here and there, too distracted by the revelation of their relation.

Ackerman was a common enough name that you hadn’t even thought about it, but the more you looked at them together, the more you could see their similarities. Their quiet, but confident demeanors, intellect, and grey eyes. Even the way they spoke was a bit similar. You felt like such an idiot, and when there was a break in the conversation, you said as much.

For once, though, Levi didn’t take it as an opportunity to tease you for your foolishness. “Truthfully,” he said, squeezing your hand gently, “I should’ve realized. I knew Mikasa had moved here recently, but I hadn’t been to see her, and I hadn’t met her boyfriend.”

Only later did you remember how nice his hand felt in your own — those cool, pale fingers wrapped around your hand, as if he hadn’t even had to think about it. How you’d accepted them so easily, feeling warm, calm, his fingertips against your knuckles so natural.

Mikasa and Levi seemed happy to catch up, so for the next couple of hours, you made the rounds, visiting with your old friends and the people they were now seeing. Historia and Ymir, the only high school sweethearts left in your group, had even managed to show up, even though they lived the greatest distance away from home. It had been a surprise, and you’d nearly cried when you saw them, leaping away from the table, interrupting your conversation with Jean, to get to them.

Later, you found Levi in the kitchen, a drink in his hands, as he took in the silence away from everyone.

“Everything okay?” you asked, smiling, your entire face bright as you shuffled through the cooler for your own drink. “I didn’t mean to leave you alone, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he said, tipping the bottle back to his lips before setting it on the counter. “I managed to meet almost everyone anyway. They seemed pretty pleased you have a boyfriend now.” His expression was completely serious, and though his face always was, it sent another round of laughter through you, the beer you’d already drank settling in.

“I hope you gave them a good impression.” You took the spot at the counter beside him, ignoring the softness of his eyes, the way they melted as he stared at you.

Had that always happened, or were you just imagining it…

No, it was definitely the beer.

“Maybe a bad impression would be best,” Levi disagreed, running his fingers across the counter, beside the spot where you rested your hip. “That would make it easier for them to accept our break-up later on.”

“Of course,” you teased, though the mention of the “breakup” that wouldn’t take place at all made disappointment seep into your core. Perhaps, over the course of just a few days, you’d come to enjoy Levi’s company.

Or, maybe, you just decided to accept that you’d always enjoyed it.

“I won’t do that, though,” he concluded. “Not when you look so happy.”

You didn’t get the chance to contemplate that before Mikasa stuck her head through the kitchen door, calling out to get your attention. “Hey.” There was a frown on her face, and she nodded back towards the front door, pointing behind herself. “Zeke’s here. Just so you know.”

You sucked in a breath, nodding, and Mikasa smiled sympathetically before going back to Eren.

For some reason, you were even less prepared to face Zeke than you thought you’d be.

“Okay?” Levi asked quietly. HIs eyebrows tugged up, towards one another, concerned.

You forced a smile, and stepped away from his embrace. “I’m fine,” you said, nodding, but you weren’t able to meet Levi’s eyes, too enraptured by the panic that had begun to claw at you. “Let’s go, better to just rip the band-aid off.”

“I’ll be out in a second.”

Although you didn’t want to walk out alone, you left Levi, heading back to the living room, where at least you’d have the protection of your vast group of friends. You considered grabbing another beer — you needed more than just one to get through the evening, but before you could protest, Sasha had whisked you away, pulling you into some ridiculous, made-up game with Jean and Connie.

For a while, you were able to avoid Zeke, until he’d caught you in pursuit of another drink, your laughter dying the moment your voice was called out in a tone you had never wanted to hear again.

“I didn’t think you’d actually show up.”

You shifted, spinning around, nails digging into your palm, your jaw clenched. The sight of Zeke standing there sent a wave of nausea over you, doubly so, when you saw the woman standing next to him.

She wasn’t the same one that you remembered with him before, the reason he’d split up with you an entire year ago. No, this one was much taller, her hair smooth and dark as it cascaded down her back. She was wearing a pair of brown, round glasses, and she was beautiful.

“I came to see Eren,” you said, eyes flitting between Zeke and his new girlfriend. She seemed just his type. Pretty, intelligent, a sense of style to match. Anything and everything he’d claimed that you were not. “I was certainly hoping to avoid you.”

“Yet, here we are,” Zeke smiled. He looked the same, exactly the same, as if time has done nothing but turn him into a worse version of himself. His eyes were a little more dull, another wrinkle around the corners, but that was the extent of it all. “This is my girlfriend, Cassandra.”

Cassandra greeted you politely, spoke in a way that was much more smooth than your own voice, her back straight. Instantly, you wondered how anyone like her could fall for someone like Zeke. Yet, you supposed you had done just that, which only proved your stupidity.

Zeke attempted to make small talk, and you smiled, awkwardly, uncomfortably, as your hands began to shake at your sides. It must have been obvious, what you were to Zeke, and you felt horrible for making Cassandra endure the formalities.

“How have you been?” Zeke asked, placing an arm around Cassandra’s shoulder to tuck her into his side. You watched the movement with disgust. “Seems like much hasn’t changed about you, has it?”

It was low, in a way that only you and Zeke could understand — and your face was burning, hot, as you looked around the room for anyone to free you from the conversation. “I’m fine,” you said, wrapping your arms around yourself, close to telling Zeke to kindly fuck off for the rest of the evening. “Actually-”

“There you are,” an arm wrapped around your own waist, a hand on your side. Calm, instantly raining down upon you. “I was wondering where you’d gone.”

Levi kissed you on the temple, and for a moment, your brain short-circuited, questions rising up as you glanced over at him, mouth parted in surprise. But Levi wasn’t looking at you, too busy fixing Zeke with a bored expression, eyes flitting over him in judgement.

“You must be Zeke,” he said, and perhaps it was just your imagination, but you felt him squeeze your hip once, as if comforting you. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Zeke cracked a smile. “Good things, I hope.”

“Terrible, actually.”

That only seemed to heighten Zeke’s amusement, and he laughed, loudly. “You must be the new boyfriend.”

Levi glanced down at Zeke’s outstretched palm. “I am,” he said, but made no move to shake Zeke’s hand, ignoring the formalities. Instead, he guided you away from the couple.

For a moment, you blinked, staring out at the space where your friends were congregating, unbeknownst to the interaction in the kitchen. Then, you were relaxing into Levi’s side, the smell of his cologne lingering on his sweater, soothing you.

“I’m sorry, Levi,” you mumbled, shaking your head. “I could’ve avoided him. You didn’t have to kiss me.”

Levi rolled his eyes. “That? That was nothing.” He came around to face you, eyes scanning you for any sign of sadness. “Are you okay?”

His consideration shot warmth through every vein of your body, igniting your skin. A smile spread across your lips, and you felt dizzy with it, hating it all at the same time. “I’m okay,” you said, leaning closer, if only to remain within the space of Levi Ackerman. “I just can’t believe him. Showing up like that, and—”

“Don’t give him the fucking time of day.” Levi shook his head, for once, his seriousness not bleeding into sarcasm. “Just enjoy your time with your friends.”

You locked eyes with him, watched as his features turned tender, the cool blue of his irises lightening under his thick lashes. Swallowing, you nodded, looking away, and resumed your place close to Levi, remembering you were supposed to be selling the relationship, not making people question it.

Levi squeezed your shoulder, and you went back to talking with Mikasa and Eren, even though you were distracted by the other pair of eyes that watched you from across the room.

Zeke’s gaze was all that you could feel, even though all of your friends did their best to maintain your attention, remind you that Zeke might have been there, but it didn’t matter — not when there were so many others that cared about you.

It didn’t do much to soothe you, but your tried your best to relax, studying Levi as he spoke, the movement of his sharp jaw, the soft hair that rested over his forehead. He was wearing a soft, burgundy button-up, the sleeves tighter around his wrists, one that complemented his complexion nicely. It nearly matched your own red dress, this one a brighter shade, but still, close enough to seem as if you had planned it.

As the evening went on, the tension drained out of you, and you began to feel more comfortable under Levi’s arm.

Fleetingly, you wondered if this was what Levi was really like in a relationship. Attentive, caring, sweet. Softer towards you only, a secret smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, even if he didn’t let it show.

The thought sent a spiral of longing through you that you ignored, and you sighed, hating that you were constantly on edge. If not from Zeke, than from the way Levi was holding you close, his fingers grazing, caressing your sides.

“By the way, Levi, happy birthday,” Mikasa said, a giggly mess after a few beers. “I almost forgot!”

You made a face at Levi, your expression tied up together. “Birthday?” you asked, frowning.

He waved you off, mumbling a thanks to Mikasa, before she walked off to find another drink, one Eren insisted she didn’t need.

“Levi?” you said again, grabbing his pale wrist, your hand gripping the watch tightly. “It’s your birthday?”

“Tomorrow.” Levi cringed, looking over your shoulder, like that was the last thing he wanted to discuss.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

A horrible emotion washed over you, one that was both guilt and melancholy. Levi knew your birthday. Hange had invited him when they’d made you a birthday dinner, and Levi had brought you some flowers, a gift card to your favorite store.

You’d never even bothered to ask when his birthday was. Hadn’t even thought about it.

“I don’t really celebrate,” he shrugged, running his tongue over his cheek.

“I’m sorry — I should’ve —”

“Don’t.” Levi brushed your hair out of your face, shaking his head. The touch soothed you, his fingers so gentle on your temple. “It’s really okay. People are usually too busy with Christmas, and I don’t care much about it anyway.”

You opened your mouth to protest, Levi shook his head again, smiling. “Don’t apologize. Mikasa is the only one who knows, really. Hange knows it’s in December, but I don’t like making a big deal of it.” He sighed, pinching his temple, before looking back at you. "I promise. It doesn't matter."

Still, you couldn't help but feel horrible for not realizing, for dragging him out of town for you, when it was his birthday. “I’m sorry,” you said again, heart clenching.

Levi rolled his eyes, defensive, and moved along, tugging you forward, clearly not wanting to discuss the matter any further.

It ate at you for the rest of the evening, though, nearly distracting you from the fact that your ex-boyfriend was there at all.

You stuck with Levi for the rest of the night, but eventually, needed to use the bathroom, hoping to get back downstairs as soon as possible. Though, your plan was undermined when you opened the door, the other side revealing Zeke, leaning against the wall. His eyes raked over your body, a mix of anger and hunger as you left the bathroom, waving your hands to dry them completely.

“Zeke,” you said, ignoring the hammering in your heart, the way that your panic had spiked the moment you saw him. “What the fuck do you want?”

He laughed, though it was without humor, as he pushed away from the wall, coming towards you. You felt small under his dark gaze, the way he pinned you, so much more cruelly than Levi did. “I can’t tell if you’re actually serious, or if you’re fucking with me,” Zeke said, and it took you a moment to figure out what he was referring to, his eyes hard and narrowed under the thick lenses of his glasses. “Do you really think I believe you? Believe this act that you have going on with your boyfriend?”

You blinked back at him, momentarily at a loss for words, before you forced a laugh from your chest, spitting at him cruelly. “God, Zeke,” you said, shaking your head. “Are you so paranoid that you think I would go to that extent? I stopped caring about you a long time ago, and I’ve moved on.” You tried to push past him, blood rushing through your body; all you could think about was getting back downstairs to Levi.

“Right,” Zeke didn’t let you get far, grabbing your wrist and jerking hard. He forced you back into the wall, your shoulder hitting it with a thump. “I know you’re still not over me. You haven’t been, and we’d both be better off if you could admit that to yourself.”

You glared, prying his grip off, even if he wouldn’t let go. “Leave me alone, Zeke. I’ve never regretted anything as much as I regret you.”

“Please,” he scoffed, rolling his eyes, grazing them all over your face. Zeke had never been a good listener, had never seen eye to to eye with you, but he sure pretended to. “You wanted me for years. You loved me.”

“Maybe at some point. Not anymore.” you said through gritted teeth, tugging again, desperate almost. But Zeke didn’t let you free, his grip harder, bruising your skin. “Zeke. Get off of me. I don’t want to talk to you.”

That subtle remark served to do nothing but make him angrier. His features contorted, shoving you backwards so you were pressed against him, his knees brushing your thighs.

A flash of fear went through you, and though you didn’t want to seem like a coward, didn’t want to scream for anyone in the house to help you, you considered it. Zeke towered over you, his breath fanning over your cheeks, thumbs grazing your jaw. “I’m not an idiot,” he said, smiling, that same saccharine grin he’d given you when you were together. “I know that man downstairs isn’t really in love with you.”

“What makes your so sure that you’re right about that?”

That seemed the question he had been dying to answer all evening.

“Oh, it’s easy to spot, really. Just look at you,” Zeke said. “You were nothing without me, and you’re nothing still.” He laughed, loud and cruel, finally stepping away, giving you an escape route. “No one wanted you before, and no one wants you now… Especially not now that I’ve ruined you.” He shrugged, tucking his hands into his pockets, a dismissal. “And it was so easy to do.”

Tears sprang to your eyes; breaths left you, stuttered exhales that were more than forced. “I hate you.”

“Why?” Zeke asked, curious. “I did you a favor.”

You stared at him, wondering how he could possibly believe himself to be so benevolent, to have saved you from some existence that would have been miserable, without the divine lesson he’d bestowed upon you. Though, it wasn’t long before you realized that he was taunting you, trying his best to make an embarrassment of you, laughing at the way the tears had flooded your eyes so easily.

You rushed down the stairs, holding back your sobs.

As your feet touched the bottom step, you collided with another body, turning the corner, too off-kilter to recognize who it was. “Sorry,” you said, the word coming out soft, weak. “I’m sorry, I have to—”

“Hey.” Levi’s soothing voice washed over you, his hands on your shoulders snapping you out of your distress. At first, he hadn’t realized that you were crying, the tears hidden by the palms that covered your eyes. Gently, Levi pried them away, taking your wrists in his hands, staring at you with a severe expression. “Hey, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

“I’m fine. I’m fine,” you said, wiping at your face furiously; Levi was unconvinced. “I just… ran into Zeke upstairs, that's all.”

That soured his mood immediately, expression turning cold, a glare overtaking it as he understood. “Fucking asshole,” Levi ground out, teeth clenching together. “What did he say to you?”

“Levi, I said I’m fine.” But your glossy eyes revealed the opposite, the tears leaking from the corners of them only exacerbating the fact that Zeke had said something cruel. “Leave it alone.”

“Did he hurt you?” Navy eyes flicked all over your face, narrowing in concern. “What did he say, love?” It slipped from his lips, without thinking.

You stared back at him, frozen, hesitant. That sort of softness was one you’d never heard from Levi before, had never seen him so furious, yet so worried. It seemed every emotion that he had tucked away was bleeding onto his face, and you leaned into his touch, let him examine your wrists. A red ring was around it from Zeke’s heavy hand.

“I’m okay,” you promised, barely a whisper, taking your wrists back to hide them by your sides. Your lip quivered, and you looked away from Levi's concern as new wave of tears rushed over you, warming your body with despair. “He just doesn’t believe that we’re together. Said that you’d never love someone like me, anyway. That Zeke ruined me.” You shrugged, rubbing your elbows. “The usual.”

Levi clenched his fists, pushing past you. “Fuck.”

You could see the anger spelled out all over his expression, as he began his ascent up the stairs, feet heavy, infuriated.

You clutched at his sleeve. “Levi, stop. Just let it go.”

“I’m not going to let him fucking talk to you like that!” he said, and it was, nearly, the most emotion you’d ever seen out of Levi, his hands practically shaking at his sides. “He can’t just — ”

Levi grit his teeth, then shook you off, taking long strides to get to Zeke, who was leaving the bathroom just as you arrived. Although the smarter part of your brain nudged at you to stop Levi, you couldn’t help but let him play out his anger, wanting to see the look on Zeke’s face when he approached him.

The loud steps against the stairs gathered your ex-boyfriend's attention, and Zeke smiled, looking down at Levi from under his glasses, amused. Though, he didn’t get a chance to say a word before Levi had tugged him by the shirt, forced him against the wall, his gaze hard, almost scary.

Levi’s strength was almost surprising, had you not already known, but Zeke hadn’t. He glanced at Levi, then you, wide-eyed, before recovering smoothly. “Sent your guard dog after me, did you?” he asked you, a dull expression on his face.

“Don’t talk to her.” Levi snapped Zeke’s head back against the wall, forcing the taller man to look at him. “You may think you’re better than you are, but I don’t. You’re a piece of shit, and you never deserved her.” Levi said, eyes pinched, the words calm, even more serious than if he’d been shouting them. "Just stay the hell away."

“Really?” Zeke said, a smile curving onto his lips. “Or what?”

Levi stared for a minute longer, contemplative, and you sucked in a breath, wiping your eyes. You hardly registered the movement of Mikasa, who had rushed up the stairs, wrapping you up in her arms, whispering something to you that you didn't comprehend.

Before either of you could react, Levi had swung, hit Zeke square in the nose, blood trickling down not a moment later. When the blond man tried to react, swinging aimlessly, Levi ducked, and grabbed at Zeke's arm, forcing a knee into his stomach.

Zeke coughed and keeled, muttering a silent, “shit,” and a few other expletives, but not making any moves to swing again.

After he released him, Levi flexed his hand, looking over his shoulder to see you staring at him, Mikasa holding you tightly. He exhaled, sniffed back his anger, and turned.

“Levi—” you started, but he said nothing, pushing past you, his fingers running through his hair as he made his way down the stairs.

Mikasa whispered something else to you, but you wiggled out of her arms, ignoring her, as you followed after Levi. Your tears had dried, but they had, nonetheless, been obvious to everyone, who seemed to know exactly what had been going on when you walked downstairs.

Still, you didn’t meet any of their eyes, frowning, as you pushed open the door. You ignored the fact that it was below freezing outside, and you were in nothing but a jacket, when you found Levi, drawn to him light a magnet.

Flurries of snow rained down, dusting the top of Levi’s head, like little crystals against his dark hair. It was much quieter, away from the chatter, and the music, the night calm and serene, wrapping you in a blanket of comfort.

“Levi?” you said, approaching him quietly, shivering in the brisk air. It had snowed much more than you'd thought in the past few hours, coating the ground, painting a scene so perfect for Christmas Eve. Crystals of ice hung off the edge of the railing, the wind whipping the flurries around in a swirl.

Levi glanced over his shoulder, but said nothing for a moment, his breath coming out in a cold puff of air. Slowly, you came up beside him, watched as his cheeks began to tinge red from the wintery air, his hair brushing across his forehead from the wind.

“I’m sorry,” he said, blinking at the scene in front of him, as he leaned against the icy railing of the balcony. “That was a stupid thing to do. I embarrassed you in front of all of your friends.”

You paused, before a small laugh erupted from you. “Embarrassed?” you smiled, pulling on his forearm to guide his attention back to you. “Levi, no one cares. Truthfully, I’m grateful,” you admitted, retracting your hand, swallowing. “I never would’ve had the courage to do it myself.”

Levi’s eyes flashed, and he glanced over at you, conflicted. Christmas lights shimmered against the snow, dulled only by the darkness that lingered above you.

“Regardless,” he muttered, fixated on the wave of red and green. His lashes were coated in droplets of white, and your voice caught in your throat. He’d never looked so beautiful. “That was immature. I’m not — We’re not even really together.”

You laughed, the sound light and airy. “Well, surely Zeke believes us now. I think you’ve done enough to sell it, haven’t you?”

Levi sighed, dropping his gaze to the railing, his shoulders falling. “I suppose.”

Still, there was tension between you, and your stiff joke did little to diffuse it. You ran your hands up and down your own arms, feeling the goosebumps beneath them, trying to force your attention away from how cold you were.

“Zeke deserved it,” you said, quietly, shaking your head, eyebrows knit together. "You shouldn't feel bad."

“I know,” whispered back, just another exhaled of the wind. Levi didn’t move, didn’t bother to look at you, despite the fact that you were desperate to read any twitch of his expression, to get him to reveal what he was thinking.

Finally, after far too long, he glanced over, raked his eyes across your figure, the frozen posture that your body had turned to, the confusion all over your face. He frowned, dismissive. “We should go inside. You’re freezing.”

“I’m okay.”

“No—”

“Levi,” you said once more, halting him, a frowning permeating your lips. “Why did you do it?”

His face twitched. “Zeke? I told you, he has no right to—”

“No, no. Not that,” you waved him off, crossing your arms to hold them tightly to his chest. “I mean... Well, I suppose that too, but why did you come? Why would you choose to spend your birthday here, with me, of all places? Why do you even pretend to like me at all?”

Levi stared back, slowly blinking, his eyes wide, startled. Then, he started laughing, and for the first time, it was genuine. The sound left him deeply, amused, by your question.

And though, you didn’t understand, had no idea what was so funny about the sentiment, you couldn’t help but feel the warmth of his humor all the way down to your toes, the sound a battle against the brisk cold that slapped against you.

“You think I don’t like you?” Levi asked, shaking his head, laughs subsiding to a small smile.

“Well,” you said, defensive, sniffing. “Yeah. I’ve always thought that.”

“And? What do you think now?”

You remembered the small smiles you had shared, secrets almost. The way he talked with all of your friends, made an effort to see the beauty in the home you’d grown up in. The way he listened to you, took in your words and remembered them for later.

You shrugged, though it was half-hearted. “I don’t know.”

Silence fell between you, before Levi had cupped your jaw, tracing the softness of your cheeks, the hollow beneath the bone. His eyes held a sadness you didn’t understand, before he had looked past you, to the house next door, the one beyond that, and the one beyond that.

“Hange said you had no idea. I thought I’d been fairly obvious about it, all this time, but maybe I’m oblivious myself.”

“Levi,” you began, frustrated, confused by the way he touched you so gently, the way his sarcasm had subsided, and nothing remained but the gentleness between you. “I don’t—”

“I’m in love with you.”

A pause.

Another.

Slowly, your jaw fell slack. Your eyes grew wide, and you swallowed, as the sentence repeated over and over in your mind, until you could make sense of it.

Levi stepped away, clenching his jaw as he turned you, only his side profile visible. “I have been for quite a while. Hange was the one who pointed it out, and I realized…” He sighed. “Well, I realized they were right. I love you, and I thought that, maybe, if I pretended to be your boyfriend, you’d see I’m not as bad as you think. I didn’t care about spending my birthday at home because I want to be around you — I want to be around you, as often as I can. Perhaps, I'm a complete fool for that, but...” He trailed off, and though his eyes had hardened, not revealing any of the misery he felt, you could see it.

“Levi…”

“I just hope you know that whatever Zeke has planted in your mind, it isn’t true,” Levi spat, clenching his teeth. “You’re not unloveable. God, you were so easy to fall in love with, and I had no idea, that all this time, you’ve been thinking otherwise.” He sniffed, caught between sorrow and fury. “I would never have told you how I felt, but it doesn’t matter, anyway. As long as you know that what he says isn't true.”

You were still whirling from the confession, but Levi had already begun to walk off, trudging off into the house.

“Levi, wait,” you said, grasping at his arm before he could go back inside, get too far away from you. Your head was spinning, and you couldn’t think, couldn’t hear anything besides the words I’m in love with you.

And though he was frustrated, and a culmination of many other things, Levi did as you said, because he loved you; because he loved you, and he listened to you, and you had a hold over him.

Levi stopped, looking back at you, breathing deeply, waiting.

“I—” you began, but the words died there, because Levi looked so pretty with snowflakes on his lashes, and you thought of all the questions you’d never ask, and the fact that all this time, you’d wanted Levi… even if you’d been to scared to admit it.

You kissed him.

Your lips pressed against his, and though he was caught off-guard, eyes wide, he fell into it instantly, arms coming around your back to hold you close. Levi kissed you with a passion that Zeke never had, grabbing at your body like a lifeline, desperate and adoring.

Levi tasted of peppermint, smelled like tea, and felt like a home you hadn’t known since you’d been back here. Something clicked into place, your mind shifting, and your hands fisted in the back of his coat, holding onto him tight.

“You love me?” you asked in a small voice, eyes glossy from a sort of happiness you hadn’t felt in years.

Levi smiled down at you, his expression bright, the corners of his eyes crinkling. He traced your jaw, kissed your forehead, your nose, your cheeks. “I love you.” Another lingering kiss on your lips. “I’d spend all of my life showing you, if you’d let me; getting rid of all those lies Zeke planted in your head." Levi inhaled, rested his head against your own gently.

“I thought you didn’t like to date," you said, closing your eyes.

He huffed out a laugh. “I don’t.”

“Are there other women?”

“What?” Levi shook his head, amused, when you finally pried your eyes back open. You wondered if you’d ever seen him so happy; if you’d ever seen him happy at all. If, maybe, you could keep him happy forever. “No, I’m — Is that what you’ve thought of me all this time?”

Embarrassed, you dipped your head to his shoulder, warming yourself up in his embrace. He took that as yes for an answer.

“I’m not interested in dating, and I really haven’t been with many people before, contrary to what you believe,” he teased, running his fingers along your spine. “Certainly, not since I met you. Does that answer suffice?”

You ran your hands against his chest, kissing his collarbone, his neck, then along his jaw, letting every ounce of your affection seep into it. “I don’t want you to see anyone else,” you admitted, looking at him from under your lashes, remembering exactly what Zeke had done to you, at exactly the same time that he did.

“I won’t, my love,” Levi swore, kissing you once more, sweet and wonderful in the snowy Christmas Eve.

"And, maybe," you began shyly, playing with the buttons of his deep maroon shirt. "We can start fresh tomorrow. I don't know enough about you, Levi Ackerman," you said, frowning, a wrinkle forming between your eye. "But I'd like to."

Levi relaxed, shifting into a version of himself that so few would ever get to see, sweet and caring, with eyes so soft. He smiled. "I can't think of a better way to spend my birthday."

જ⁀➴ REBLOGS APPRECIATED !

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sunboki · 9 months

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merry christmas to everyone that celebrates! gonna drop this off…

what about dad! minho baking cinnamon rolls with his little girl. PLEASE.

it’d be a lazy morning, a day he finally got to take work off and spend time with the two loves of his lives. of course, his baby wakes up just as early as he does — both of them nearly cracking up while trying to carefully tip toe out of your room without waking you up.

while Minho ties the apron around his waist, he turns around, met with the cutest sight of his daughter surrounded by kitties, Soonie and Doongie purring their delight as the toddler giggles.

he’d scoop her up in his arms, bringing her face up to his own to touch noses and hear that adorable laugh — just like yours.

her grabby hands too tempting to resist, he fastens the curious girl on his shoulders, humming the sweetest “Want Daddy to cook something?” to which she replies an eager “Cinammon rolls!”

And who is Minho to deny her of her precious cinnamon rolls?

So, the chef and his mini chef get to work, her fingers gently holding onto his hair as he maneuvers through the kitchen, hands periodically tapping her legs to ensure she’s safe (a habit).

Nevertheless, your heart utterly melts upon witnessing your husband gently teach her the ropes of making her favorite breakfast, answering all of her eager questions and reaching up here and there to pop a bit of the sugary goodness into her mouth.

Sure, there was doubt upon first starting a family, but as you watch, whether it’s how you can sense that newfound protectiveness he’s developed or the way he’s always interested in whatever she loves to do, there’s no other person who fit the role better.

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atomicami · 9 months

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charity work

contractor!abby anderson x joel’s daughter!reader

- summary: it’s the day of the holiday bake sale, and abby’s craving something sweeter than the desserts you’re selling. (part 3)

- content: smut MDNI, no outbreak/modern au, contractor/engineer!abby, texas living, no sarah, joel and jerry are both alive, jerry is not a doctor, reader has a business degree, family & work drama, semi-public sex, pet names instead of y/n, kinda roughdom!abby??, oral & fingering (r!receiving), cockblocking, strap usage (r!receiving), abby hits it from the back 🕺, edging, some mirror play, some degrading, abby referring to the strap as her cock, and i think that’s it but lmk if i missed anything else

- author’s note: merry christmas everyone! what better way to celebrate it than with a contractor abby fic am i right? i hope y’all enjoy this one 🤍

previous parts: quick fix, surprise visit

Seven in the morning, it's only the crack of dawn, and you’re spending the early hours of the day at the farmers market, setting up for the annual holiday bake sale.

Your hands were full of all the pastries and desserts you’d spent baking yesterday while Joel was carrying the chairs and tables to set up with. You tried to walk as carefully as you could to keep yourself from tripping on your knee-high boots or spilling anything on the red sweater dress you had on. When you arrived at your spot, your dad already had everything set up for you.

“Jeez kiddo, thought you’d never make it here in time with them boot heels ya got on,” your dad joked, opening the second folding chair he had in his hand and placing it behind the table.

“Well Dad, I figured I’d make myself presentable for the bake sale, don’t you think?” you replied, carefully setting down the load of sweets on the table.

Well, if we’re being honest here, there’s only one person in particular you’re planning to make an impression on today, and she still hasn’t arrived.

For a moment, you look over to the empty spot where Abby & Jerry are settled before you begin to unpack and arrange your pastries. It’s no surprise to you that Abby still hasn’t arrived yet. After that last-minute encounter you had with her at her place, you figured that she’d be knocked out for at least another hour.

And you were definitely right. About an hour later, Abby and Jerry finally arrived, right before the bake sale officially began.

Joel leans close to you as the two of you watch them quickly rush to set their stand up. “Look at ‘em, I wonder what made Jerry n’ his kid so late to the sale…”

You honestly couldn’t help but laugh to yourself about it too. The fact that Abby and Jerry were now just setting their things up while everyone else was ready was just too funny to you. It seemed like karma got back to her after her need to call you at 1 in the morning that night.

Once the two had their table set up, the bake sale finally started.

You looked over at the table that stood in front of you. A variety of desserts that you’ve made was all spread out on top of it. You’ve spent the past day making every single dessert you could think of: brownies, cinnamon rolls, muffins, even a whole plate of peach pie, because it truly can’t be a Southern bake sale if someone’s table doesn’t have a peach pie.

And lastly, there was the round tray of flan that you made. Out of all the desserts you’ve made, the flan made you the most nervous to sell. Given that this dessert came from your mother’s side of the family, you’ve decided to make it exclusively for family events or traditions out of the fear that others wouldn’t like it.

Nonetheless, your dad practically begged you to make it for the bake sale, and you couldn’t help but oblige.

A couple hours of the bake sale pass by and it feels like years to you. Almost half of your sweets have been sold, which was good, but you can’t help but wish that this community event could be a little more…interesting to you.

And luckily, Abby was about to make her appearance to change that.

While you were distracted with the customers, Abby was watching you from across the room, patiently waiting for Joel to leave the stand to get you by yourself. She had her own plan to be able to get even with you after the stunt you pulled onto her in her office.

Because if there’s anything sweeter than a Texas holiday bake sale, it’s a fresh slice of payback.

Once she noticed that you were by yourself at the table, she excused herself to her now distracted father to walk over to your stand.

You felt a tap on your shoulder from your side and turned around to see Abby standing next to you. “Got some pretty sweet looking pastries here princess, mind if I have a taste?”

“Abby…” you tell her sternly. “You know you’re not supposed to be this close to me right now, especially with both of our dads around.”

Abby simply ignores your warning as she walks around your table, admiring all of the pastries you had set up for sale. “I know that, but I’m just kinda craving something sweet,” she says as she slightly dips the tip of her finger into the white frosting of the cinnamon roll pan before lifting it up to her mouth and sucking it clean.

You roll your eyes at her, grabbing the tray and pulling it away from her. “Well, unless you’re going to buy something, then you shouldn’t be here,” you warn her again.

“Actually…I was craving something a little sweeter than these…” she replies with a smirk, slowing down her pace as she walks around your table.

It took you a while to get her intentions, but the way her eyes were flickering between you and the table, you instantly got the message.

Your eyes widened in shock and you began to shake your head. “No, Abby, don’t you fucking dare—“

But it was too late. Within a matter of seconds, Abby dropped down to her knees and lifted the red tablecloth before crawling under the table.

You tried to kick her away so she could get out, but there wasn’t enough time to do so, because Joel was already coming your way with one of his friends next to him.

“Hey, sweetheart, you remember Martin, right? Used to work f’me when I was startin’ up the company,” he tells you as he points at him.

“Yes, hi Martin, it’s good to see you again.” you tell him with a smile.

You’re trying your best to keep your cool right now, but it’s practically impossible for you to do so now that Abby’s lifting up your sweater dress and spreading your legs open underneath the tablecloth.

Your dad looks over to Martin while gesturing him to all of your pastries arranged on the table. “My kid right here baked up all these sweets for the sale today. But this…” he pauses for a moment, pointing at the pan of flan that stood neatly at the front. “This custard thing right here’s the best thing she could ever make, I’ll tell ya that.”

“That so?” his friend asked, serving himself up a slice. “Whatcha got here, kid?”

“It’s flan, sir. I-It’s my mother’s recipe.” you reply to him, trying not to strain your voice as Abby shifts your underwear to the side from underneath.

You watch the man in front of you take a bite of the dessert, smiling after he’s fully eaten it. “Well I must say, this is one of the best desserts I’ve had in this here bake sale so far.” he said before pulling out a five-dollar bill from his wallet and handing it to you.

At that moment, when you were about to lean forward to grab the money, was when Abby’s hands grabbed ahold of your hips and pushed you back down onto the chair, causing the rest of the table to shake.

You gasp at the sudden impact, and your jaw practically fucking drops once she inserts two fingers into your pussy.

It could have been any other time when she could’ve done that move, but no. She just had to fucking do it right in front of your father, out of all people.

Regardless, you try your best to compose yourself and attempt to cover it up. “S-Sorry about that, I was trying to get up but, my leg kind of fell asleep…must be from sitting down all day.” you said to the other man, extending out your hand to take the bill from him before inserting it in the black cash box that was in front of you.

“S’ no worries ma’am,” the man simply says before waving you goodbye, and looking over to your dad to shake his hand. “Good seeing you as always Joel.” he says to him before walking off.

Your dad shakes his hand back before turning to face you. “You alright sweetheart? Seemed like you were actin’ a bit off just now.” he asked you with a concerned expression on his face.

You simply nod at him, genuinely trying to appear normal, and ignore the fact that Abby’s thick fingers were slowly pumping in and out of your cunt right now. If it weren’t for the loud atmosphere of the event, you’re almost certain that anyone could easily hear the squelching noises it made every time her fingers moved.

“Y-yeah, Dad, sorry…s’just a lot of people here this time.” you tell him nervously.

“Well, if ya need a break, I can try to cover for a bit if—“

“No!” you exclaimed, placing your hands in front of him to keep him from getting closer to you. “N-no, it’s okay, Dad,” you said to him in a quieter tone. “I’ll be alright, promise.”

Your dad opens his mouth to respond but is cut off by a barking sound, which progressively gets louder by the second. The two of you looked around to see what it was, and you seriously couldn’t believe it.

It was Alice, Abby’s dog, and by the looks of it, she was approaching your table.

You slightly flinch a bit once Alice jumps up at your table, barking up at the two of you before quickly getting down and sniffing under the tablecloth.

Joel walks over to the front of the table where the dog is in an attempt to shoo her away. “What the hell are ya doing here?! Get on out of here! Go on, get!”

You’d expect Abby to at least try to help you get her dog out, given the vulnerable position you were in right now, but she doesn’t budge about it. Instead, she only quickens the pace of her fingers inside you and moves closer to you to latch her mouth onto your throbbing clit. You want to help your dad out, you really do, but all you could focus on was trying to be quiet and not let a single moan or whimper leave your lips.

As much as Joel was trying to get the dog away from the table, she still wouldn’t move, she knew that Abby was under there, as if she could have smelled her from miles away.

“Why the hell aren’t ya leavin’?” he says to himself as he continues to move her away. “What are you tryin’ to find there?”

Your dad starts to get closer to the table now, and you can just feel your heart racing. The closer he got to it the faster your heart kept beating. This could be it. Once your dad was about to see what was under the table, it was over for the both of you.

But to your luck, as Joel was about to lift up the tablecloth, Jerry was already making his way there to get ahold of his dog. Talk about perfect timing, right?

“There you are, Alice, I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” he says, leaning forward to pick up her leash from the ground.

Your dad scoffs at him and crosses his arms in disbelief. “Try to get a hold of your mutt, Jerry. Damn dog near knocked down my daughter’s table.”

“Tough talk for someone who just lost two of his clients last week to my company,” Jerry replies, clutching Alice’s leash in his hand. “I’d spend less time worrying about me and more time trying to keep your clientele if I were you, Joel.”

As blissed out as you were feeling from Abby’s mouth and fingers right now, you could still visibly see the anger rushing through your father’s veins right now.

“Don’t act so innocent, Jerry, you know damn well that you offered my clients a better deal for them.” your dad replied before pausing for a moment. “You know, you shouldn’t have gone after them, because I just got a deal to work with the Mitchell family next week. Haven’t you been eyeing them for months now?”

The two of them bicker for what feels like ages. At this point, your brain is just tuning them out, still completely blissed on the movements of Abby’s tongue rolling up and down on your clit, her fingers sliding in and out of your cunt so smoothly while her other hand grips your inner thigh to keep them open. The pleasure she was giving you under that table right now is so intense that you could seriously care less about your surroundings right now. All you wanted at that moment more than anything was to cum undone into her mouth.

“You know what, Joel? I don’t have time for this right now,” he tells him before pausing to hesitate for a moment. “I’m trying to find my daughter, have either of you seen her around?”

Oh, you knew damn well where she was.

Your dad laughs and shakes his head. “Jesus, Jerry. Can’t find your kid either? Seems like you’ve got to put her on a leash too, don’t you think?”

However, the pleasure that Abby was giving you was so intense that you didn’t realize that her name had now slipped out of your mouth.

“Oh, my god, Abby…” you say to yourself before quickly gasping and covering your mouth. You’re finally snapped back into reality as you look up to see Joel and Jerry staring back at you.

“Do you know where she is?” Jerry asked, raising an eyebrow with concern.

“O-Oh um, yeah, I-I think I saw her a few rows down, I-If you can find her there…” you tell him, trying to compose yourself once again.

Jerry simply thanks you in response before walking off with Alice alongside him.

“About damn time he left,” your dad says, watching him walk off. “Can’t stand that man for the life of me.”

Joel’s phone starts to ring moments later, leading him to pull it out of his pocket to check who it is. “Shit, s’ one of my clients…” he says with a sigh before looking up at you. “You sure you’ll be alright by yourself, sweetheart?”

You open your mouth to say yes at first, but then take a moment to reconsider. “A-Actually, do you think you could watch the stand for a bit? I could use a break.”

Abby immediately pauses her movements upon hearing that, removing her mouth and fingers out of you. You try not to whine at the loss.

Your dad nods in response. “ ‘Course I can, just let me take this call real quick, yeah? I’ll be there in just a second.” he says before briefly walking off to take the phone call.

You wait until your dad is out of sight to lift up the tablecloth, seeing the blonde below you with a confused expression on her face. “Why the hell did you tell him that you were leaving?” she whispers to you.

“Because I’m not gonna be fucking sitting here being teased by your mouth all day.” you whisper back to her, trying to keep your voice down. “If you’re going to fuck me here, then you’re gonna do it right.” you pause for a moment to check if the coast was clear. “My dad’s still gone, hurry up and go to the bathroom before he sees you. I’ll be there in five minutes.”

You watch the blonde roll her eyes before pulling the tablecloth down, quickly crawling out of the table and getting back up on her feet. She also checks to see if Joel is still gone before leaving your side and rushing off to the bathroom.

You take a quick moment to adjust your underwear and your dress underneath the table before slowly getting back up to your feet as well. Within minutes, Joel returns to your table and takes a seat down in the chair next to yours.

“Alright so, everything is set up and served for the customers, all you have to do is take the money they give you and put it in the cash box.” you tell him before turning around to leave, only to pause for a moment and looking back at him. “And don’t eat any of the pastries, alright?”

Your dad puts your hands up in defense. “Can’t make a promise ‘bout that, kiddo.”

You simply roll your eyes and playfully punch at his arm before pushing your chair in and leaving the table. Once your dad was out of sight, you began to walk a little faster, now rushing to get to the bathroom with Abby.

After roaming around the market for a bit, you successfully find the bathroom. You lean into the door for a moment and knock twice, hoping that you found the right one.

“It’s open,” Abby calls out from inside.

You twist the knob and open the door, just enough for you to squeeze yourself inside before closing it and turning the lock. You turn around to see Abby leaning against the vanity near the sink, arms crossed with that same stupid smirk on her face. “How’d you know it was me?” you ask her.

“Are you kidding me?” she says, taking her weight off of the vanity. “I can hear those boots of yours from miles away.”

You roll your eyes at her in response “You’re so unbelievable, you know that?” you tell her. “If my dad had lifted up that tablecloth, we would’ve been done for.”

The smirk on her face grows a little wider, and you can just visibly see it happening. “I was just trying to get a taste of something sweet, princess. That’s all I wanted.”

Her cockiness was seriously driving you over the edge right now. However, you still can’t help but get turned on by her when she acts like this.

Feeling that same sense of boldness come through you again, you take a step forward and grab her by the collar of her jacket, pulling her close to you. “Then how about you finish what you started?” you whisper out to her.

She leans in closer to you, both of your lips being just mere inches away from touching.

“Don’t mind if I do.” she whispers back to you.

You lean in to seal the gap, connecting your lips with hers in an intense kiss. Your hands remain tightly gripped on her jacket, while Abby’s hands run down your body, stopping at your hips. She then turns you around to where your back is now pressed against the marble counter.

Her lips pull away from yours for a moment to flip you around, now with your back facing her chest.

“What—What are you doing?” you ask her, trying to turn around to get a look at her.

“You said you wanted me to fuck you right, didn’t you?” she says, taking off her jacket and rolling up the long sleeves of the dark green shirt she had on. “Well, that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

Abby grabs your hips and bends you over on the counter before lifting your dress up and pushing your panties to the side again, revealing your wet pussy to her. “Jesus, she looks even wetter than before.” she mutters to herself as she gently rubs her thumb on your slit, eliciting a whine from you in response.

Abby moves her hand to herself to unbuckle her tool belt, letting it fall to the ground. She then unzips her cargo pants, pulling out the thick strap she had tucked underneath her boxers before teasing the tip of it in between your puffy folds.

“Oh fuck,” you gasp out, your pussy already starting to clench around nothing. “You brought it, didn’t you?”

Abby lets out a scoff, looking back at you through the mirror. “Of course I did. Been dying to fill this sweet pussy up ever since I first came over to your place.”

You then feel her grab ahold of the strap with one hand and position it against your entrance before slowly pushing the tip in, quietly moaning to herself as she watches your pussy engulf the tip.

A whimper escapes from your mouth as she pushes a few more inches of her cock in you, now reaching halfway. “Oh god, Abby…I-I think it's too big—“

Her other hand grabs a hold of your neck, pulling you up towards her. “I’m sorry, what did you say?” she says into your ear. “Is my cock too big for you? Can you not take it like a big girl?”

“N-No— I mean yes, fuck! I-I can take it, Abs…”

“That’s what I thought.” she mutters back to you, setting you back down on the marble counter as she pushes the rest of her cock inside you without warning.

She keeps her strap nestled inside you for what feels like ages, waiting for your pussy to accommodate itself to the girth of her cock. She tries to move back a bit, but your cunt keeps resisting the toy, sucking it back in.

Abby grunts in frustration and slaps your ass, the sudden sting causing you to flinch a bit. “Quit doing that. I’m not gonna be able to fuck you right if you don’t relax that cunt already.”

“F-Fuck, Abby, m’trying to, please—“

“Jesus, must I do everything myself?” she replies, reaching around your waist to rub your throbbing clit, causing you to moan in pleasure at the stimulation. Abby leans back a bit as she continues rubbing your clit, watching as your pussy visibly relaxes around her cock, now giving her the freedom to move it in and out slowly.

“There we go, just like that now, atta girl…”

Abby begins to fuck you at a painfully slow pace at first, slow to the point where you were now pushing your hips back against her as an indication for her to go faster.

“Whoa there…desperate for more now, aren’t we princess?” she says, instantly speeding up her pace. “If you wanted me to go faster, you could have just asked.”

“I-I know b-but…f-feels too good…” you slur out to her, face pressed against the cold marble as the rest of your body moves up and down with her thrusts.

“Oh, who am I kidding? You’re so drunk on my cock that you can’t even form a coherent sentence right now. Fucking slut…”

Moments later, Abby was now fucking you relentlessly fast to the point where you had to grip the counter to steady yourself. You seriously felt like you could fall off, but honestly, you could also care less about it. You were so close to reaching your peak now, and as long as Abby didn’t stop, you’d be perfectly fine.

That is until…a knock on the door interrupts the both of you.

“Occupied!” Abby calls out from inside, not stopping her pace.

“Abby? Are you in there?”

“Dad?!”

You gasp at the sound of Jerry’s voice, and Abby shushes you and quickly covers your mouth, now slowing down her pace. You whine at the sudden lack of movement, now feeling your orgasm fade away.

“Abby, what’s going on? Someone told me they saw you walk in here. Are you okay?” her dad asks with some concern.

“Y-Yeah Dad, I’m fine, I just—“ Abby stammers out for a moment as she then turns on the sink with her other hand, trying to come up with an excuse on the spot. “S-Someone dropped a cupcake on me. I-I'm trying to wash it out.”

You giggle quietly behind Abby’s hand, only for her to shush you and grab your ass harshly with the other, causing you to wince at the slight pain.

“Alright honey, just come back when you’re done, okay?”

“Yeah, Dad, I’ll be out in a bit!”

Once the sound of Jerry’s footsteps is gone, Abby lets out a sigh of relief, turning off the sink before removing her hand from your mouth.

“Almost got me caught there, princess.” she says to you, now speeding up her thrusts again. “If you pull that again, I might not let you cum at all.”

“No, fuck—please Abby, I-I’m getting close…I need you to let me cum.” you whine out to her, tightening your grip on the marble counter.

“Oh yeah? Are you getting close there, baby?” she asks, to which you nod in response.

Without stopping her thrusts, Abby grabs you by the neck with one hand, lifting your upper body up in front of the mirror so you can see her as well as yourself. “Then I want you to watch yourself cum. Watch yourself cum on my cock like the needy slut you are.”

You try your best to move or look away, but Abby simply moves your face back to the mirror with her hand. “Don’t fucking do that again. Look away one more time and I’ll pull out.”

All you could do was whine and nod in response, keeping your gaze on the mirror. Your eyes then trail down to the bottom where Abby was fucking you. You could just see her cock sliding in and out of your pussy so easily, and just the sight of it alone is making you want to cum even more.

“Oh fuck, Abby—m-gonna…m’gonna cum!” you exclaim out to her, eyes rolling to the back of your head as the tip of her strap keeps touching your g spot.

“G-go ahead, princess, cum on my cock like a good girl.” she grunts out, moving her hand to now cover your mouth.

Within seconds you cum undone onto the strap with a muffled moan, eyes fluttering shut in pleasure as your cunt clenches and creams all over it. Your body quickly goes limp and static fills your brain as you try to catch your breath.

Abby then gently sets you back down on the counter before moving both of her hands down to your hips. She then slowly pulls her cock out of your pussy, causing you to whine at the loss of it.

Despite that your legs are trembling, you try to get up, but Abby keeps you down. “Wait, just give me a second…I still have one more thing left to do.” she tells you, and all you do is just nod in response, still feeling insanely drunk from your orgasm.

Abby quickly drops down to her knees and spreads your ass open, groaning at the sight of your fucked out pussy. Without hesitation, she dives into your pussy to lick you clean, taking in every single bit of your thick release into her mouth. Once she was finished, she got back up on her feet. “Sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted.” she murmurs to herself, wiping her mouth with her thumb before sucking it clean, making sure she’s got every bit of you on her tongue.

Once you’ve recovered from your orgasm, Abby helps you off of the counter, fixing up your underwear and dress before turning you back around to face her. “Do you think you could uh, clean me up there?” she says before looking down and back up at you, indicating for you to clean up her strap.

“Don’t mind if I do,” you tell her with a smirk, getting down on your knees to suck onto her strap, tasting yourself in the process.

Abby lets out a groan as she watches you suck her strap clean. “Fuck, you look so good like this…” she mutters out to you, running a hand through your hair. “I should make you do that more often.”

You remove your mouth from her strap with a ‘pop’ sound and wipe your mouth with the back of your hand before standing up to face her. “I wouldn’t mind doing that for you.” you reply to her, leaning in to give her a quick kiss as she tucks her strap back into her pants.

“So um, should you leave first or—“

“You should go first,” you tell her, cutting off her sentence. “You’ve been gone longer. Don’t wanna keep your dad waiting anymore now.”

Abby nods in agreement, reaching down to grab her tool belt and jacket before getting back up to kiss you goodbye. “I’ll see you around, sweet girl.” she tells you before unlocking the knob and opening the door to let herself out of the bathroom, now leaving you on your own.

You wait inside for a few minutes before shutting off the lights and leaving, quickly making your way back to your table. To your surprise, you return to see your dad standing with a slice of flan in his hands. “Dad…I told you not to eat any of the pastries!”

Your dad sets the plate down and holds up his in defense. “Alright, sweetheart, you got me there.” he says in defeat before reaching out his front pocket and pulling out a five-dollar bill. “Here’s my contribution then.” he says as he hands you the five-dollar bill.

“Okay okay,” you tell him as you grab the bill from his hands. “I’ve got it from here now, Dad, thanks.”

Once you settle back into your seat, you notice your phone buzzing on the table with a text. You pick up your phone and see that the message is from Abby.

“Abby: Wild Randy’s next Saturday?”

You smile to yourself upon reading the text before looking up at her from across the room, seeing her with that same smirk on her face once again. You look back down at your phone and type out your response.

“You: I’ll be there.”

Looks like you’ve got some plans next weekend after all.

- a/n: oh lord this one killed me to write omg. i hope y’all liked it though! let me know if i should do a part 4 (i might tbh)

merry christmas again everyone! wishing you all the best 🤍🎄

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