#pieck angst | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

uchihaclansslutt · 3 months

Text

fav. trope. ever. had to do this with someone from the warriors and miss pieck won 🏃🏻‍♀️

traitor; pieck finger

things to know: one-shot, fem!reader, angst, lowercase intended, suggestive language, aot verse, mcd, tw: stabbing, a ball dance in enemy's territory.

it has been months since a handful of paradis eldians infiltrated marley. the levi squad, you, and hange were selected for this special operation.

after learning what was truly outside the walls, the survey corps needed to further investigate why eldians were so oppressed. the entire trip felt like an outing and no one knew exactly what was going on besides eren.

deep down though, you all knew something was off when you were told to keep an eye out for the warriors unit.

after keeping an eye on reiner for some time, you learned about the other warriors. there was zeke jaeger, eren's older brother. you were caught off guard after being introduced to him. everything you learned about him was against your will and did not like him. one, he was related to eren and two, he was the beast titan. you quite literally gagged when eren introduced you to him.

you knew about porco galliard soon as well but from the shadows. after you learned he was the jaw titan, you despised him the most. you saw him as the person who took ymir from you.

finally, there was the cart titan. she was a short woman with black hair and grey eyes. her name was pieck finger. she caught your eye the most. you were told her titan was horrendous but you couldn't fathom her being ugly in any form. her human form contradicted her titan's monstrosity.

or so you thought.

eren was going to execute his plan tonight and the survey corps were going to help him. there was a ball tonight and you all decided to attend it to get closer to willy tybur and his sister, lara tybur.

you all put on your most classy outfits. the men and hange wore tuxedos or suits where as the girls wore beautiful ballgowns. mikasa was in an all black satin dress. she wore a black masquerade mask with it. sasha wore a tight dull blue dress. her sleeves were puffy. she wore a white masquerade mask.

you wore a maroon dress. the brown crimson gown was fitted from the top, as it was a bustier. the dress slightly became flowier below your waist but still hugged onto your body. there was a slit as well. you kept your dagger underneath a black garter, your masquerade mask was red and black.

everyone blended in just fine. they were all mingling with the other marleyans. you found yourself conversing with pieck.

you two have talked a lot before this ball and got along really well. for the last few months you were scouting the area, you always found your head below heels for pieck. you cherished the ground she walked on. you liked her and she would drop hints every now and then that she felt the same way about you.

one night, the two of you sat near the waterfront and confessed your admiration for each other. she initiated it and you reciprocated those feelings as well. if not, more. no matter what happened on this mission, you wanted to make sure pieck was safe.

you figured you would stick around her for the sake of eren's plan. you didn't want her out of your sight and causing havoc by any chance. you knew what she was capable of. it was also your guilty mind projecting onto your interaction with her.

although the declaration of war was on your mind, you couldn't help but be absolutely star struck in front of pieck. she was gorgeous, it left you speechless. she picked up on it very quickly though.

"hey?" she snapped you out of your thoughts. "are you listening?"

you nodded. "yes! i am listening. i'm sorry pieck, you're just so beautiful."

"coming from you? i'm flattered," pieck giggled. she partially bowed before you. "may i have this dance, y/n?"

you nodded and joined the other couples dancing together already. you dropped her hand and hesitated.

"what's wrong?"

"are you sure we won't get lynched for this?" you asked quietly.

pieck laughed and grabbed your hand again. "they don't have to know we're together. if anything, we're just friends," she winked.

you let her pull you onto the dance floor. you held her hand and waist while she caressed your nape. the two of you swayed away, only caring about each other's presence. you felt as though nothing in the world could come in the way of you and pieck.

"i still can't believe i've never seen you around," pieck said as she twirled.

guilt is all you could feel. "i would stay inside a lot. my parents wouldn't really let me out."

"but still," she pushed. "even if i had seen you once, i would have remembered you. where did you say you were from again?"

"oh, liberio," you lied. you barely knew your way around marley despite all the planning. you were directionally challenged and kinda only remembered your way around eldia. you were only able to answer her question because you remember annie being from liberio.

"see, that's crazy," she exclaimed. "we were always in such close proximity to each other and still never crossed paths. the world isn't so small after all, huh?"

you nodded. pieck's words felt like a personal attack on you. it was so hard to keep so many secrets from her. you truly liked her and just wanted to live a life with her.

your heart was being played with. you cursed yourself for falling for pieck. all the outside world has ever done to eldians was seclude, torture, and kill. they wanted eldia gone and here you were... at an absolute loss.

you're from eldia. pieck's from marley. she is the enemy and you had fallen for her.

"say, shall we go somewhere else?" pieck suggested. "i'm getting a little tired.

you followed her like a lost puppy. she lead you to a balcony. she rested her arms on the stone and looked up at the sky. the stars were shining alongside the full moon tonight.

while pieck was staring at the night sky, thinking it was the most beautiful thing in the world, you watched her, thinking the same thing.

you stood beside her and your skin grazed her's. "pieck i-" you cut yourself off.

"what is it?"

you hated this. you hated how your mind and heart were at a war. your mind knew she was the enemy but your heart wanted her.

you didn't know what to say to her so you leaned in and kissed her. it lasted for maybe a few seconds but you could've sworn time stopped.

you realized what you had done and pulled out of the kiss. "i'm sorry."

pieck moved your hair out of your face. "no! don't be sorry," she reassured before crashing her lips onto yours again.

you grabbed her face, feeding into the kiss while her hands were over your hips, pulling your body closer. the two of you displayed nothing but shameless lust for one another. pieck's lips were soft and soothing and you couldn't get enough of her.

the thought of pieck had clouded your mind completely. she had you wrapped around her little finger and was fully aware of it. you slid your tongue into her mouth and her's danced along with it.

this moment was beautiful. you would remember it for the rest of your life. if anyone had caught the two of you, you'd be shamed for eternity but you couldn't care. this is all that mattered to you.

everything was just so magical. the night sky couldn't be more beautiful, the air was so cold yet you felt so warm in her arms. pieck was all you've ever wanted ever since the day you locked eyes with her's. you were her's and she was your's.

your lips were still on her's when you felt a sharp pain in your lower abdomen. whatever it was twist and turned in your stomach. your eyes shot open just to see pieck's already wide open.

you pushed her away and looked down. you were bleeding. you looked over to pieck and she was holding a bloody knife.

"pieck?" your vision was getting blurry. "what's happening?"

"you know what's going on." she said with no emotion before raising her voice. "you've been fooling me this entire time!"

you looked at her in defeat. "i didn't mean to-"

"but you did!"

your arm went to grab for pieck but she dodged your attempt. "please let me talk to you. i didn't want any of this to happen," you gasped for air. "i didn't want to fall in love with the enemy!"

"the enemy? you're the enemy! you could've left those devils to be with me."

"you could've done the same," you cried. "i couldn't betray my people."

pieck looked at you with annoyance. "i couldn't either-"

"you could have! do you remember why you became a warrior in the first place?" you yelled. "marley has never been anything but unfair towards you! your country couldn't care less about whether you lived or died. i couldn't betray my country!"

"so you betrayed me?" she also cried. "you're a traitor, y/n."

your words were like venom. you took her deepest traumas and threw them in her face. pieck knew you were right but couldn't stand your execution.

the two of you could've talked this through. pieck's head ached knowing you could've talked this through.

"you shouldn't have done this." you stammered, holding onto your lower abdomen. "they're going to declare war for sure if they find me."

"we're already living in a war y/n," she walked towards you and held you for the last time.

"you won't win pieck."

pieck smiled sadly and let you down slowly. you were slowly becoming unresponsive and she had to fight back against your people. she shut your eyes and quietly sobbed.

"i'll find you again in another life. i love you."

#pieck finger #pieck aot #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan #attack on titan angst #aot drabbles

4 notes · View notes

lemonbeemon · 1 year

Text

Thinking about the inevitability of death in AOT.

That no matter how hard any of them try it will never be enough. That their fates are set in stone before they are even born. Eren, even Eren, is enslaved by what's written in the sand. How can we say his plan was his and not another shifter, born hundreds and hundreds of years before? How can we be certain it was Ymir who sent for her savior and not one of her children? Or her children's children? Or the boy from the future, who wanders too close and too carelessly towards Eren's tree?

Is their sacrifice worth it? Was it all just endless suicide for the sake of death? Brother's betraying their own kin. Friends smiling, training, loving, their victims until the very end. Bertholdt being glad to see them in his last moments. Hoping, believing, desperately that they would save him from the friend he forced away in anger and fire. Only to scream for the people he grew to love through circumstance in his final moments. Only for him to cry when Armin sees him in his post-succession nightmare. Armin, who couldn't stomach the blood on his hands, now forced to bathe in it for the sake of his home, his family, and the war he was pulled into.

And when the war is gone, so are the others. Those who lived are not close, save for a few, but even when they call each other friends they know they are all longing for the one's they loved more. Its not enough to be together, not anymore, they know each other too well now. True happiness died with their innocence inside the walls and behind an onslaught of military propaganda.

Extremists on both sides want them dead, so they die. And years and years later, their homes are eradicated from the world, replaced with the uneasy memory of history. And when their names are gone, their children still suffer. A little boy and his dog wandering to seek refuge, to see freedom, under that cursed tree. And when he falls, like that little girl so long ago, will he too be alone? Or will they be there, Ymir and her liberator? Locked once more inside their endless afterlife, where all of their loved ones have long since been banished.

#angst #aot #snk #attack on titan #death is inevitable #therefore I must mourn aot once more #eren jaeger #mikasa ackerman #armin alert #annie leonhart #reiner braun #connie springer #jean kirschtien #pieck finger #levi ackerman #survey corps #aot warriors #its sad bitch hours #sorry not sorry

13 notes · View notes

sonofthesaiyans · 2 years

Text

Seriously, the Warriors...

You know, the guys who smashed the Walls and caused the deaths of hundreds of thousands with the explicit instruction and intent to kill a million more?

And the brats who were to follow, and were happy to play along?

Be honest with yourselves! Did ANY of these bastards deserve to live in the end? Any any of them truly sympathetic for what they did and all those they killed? Does that bullshit alliance actually absolve any of them?

Once again, SHUT UP GABI FANS, because of the poison you spread through that bitch, you aren’t welcome to offer a defense for her in particular. There is no Attack on Titan with Gabi Braun.

Doesn’t matter what anybody’s feelings on them are. I can sort of understand a case for Falco, and maybe Udo and Zofia but if you think their actions in the last act of this somehow pardons them for their part in the war that led to Eren’s genocidal rampage........No. I don’t see why they’re entitled to anything after what they stole from thousands. And Hajime Isayama is a delusional little fuck if he thinks that sort of thing is rationally forgivable. “One act of contrition doesn’t make up for years of atrocities.”

So be honest. What are they owed? They were all Eren before Eren revealed himself to be a monster himself all along.

Oh yeah, no Marcel Galliard here. Why not? Because who cares!

33 notes · View notes

marleysfinest · 1 year

Text

GOOD MORNING SLUTS SHIGANSHINA PT 2 IS LIVE

Shiganshina - Part 2

Realising that I had fallen onto a street on the outskirts of the city, the fact that I was still alive told me I was far enough away from the combat that I was at least under cover for the time being, and I decided to take a few seconds to try and assemble my thoughts. The last thing I could remember was watching Bertholdt launch himself high into the air, and scrambling for cover after Hange’s realisation that he was about to transform. What followed was an all-encompassing wave of fire and bag of bricks to the head, the impact of both his transformation and the explosion amalgamating into one excruciating split-second memory. How the hell was I still alive?

5 notes · View notes

bunboxtoyou · 2 years

Text

a comforting teashop

had this idea in my head for a while but the writing inspo barely hit me now, sorry for typos, haven’t proofread cuz i want to sleep, will check when i wake, also sorry if it sounds like a ramble i was in a mood, thx for reading

tags: angst, comfort, minor spoilers, major? spoilers, idk it takes place after the war stuff, so i guess spoilers after ch. 139, alluding to pieck/porco and levi/erwin but its up to you its not fully stated, NOT levi/pieck but if you want it could be too, very much up to interpretation

the familiar atmosphere of freshly brewed tea alongside the smell of baked good has become a comforting source for our two veterans. they’ve become accustomed to working together after the war had ended. although they did fight alongside each other, they were not close. it wasn’t until years had gone by, where they were both trying to find what to do with themselves. after all, it was by a miracle that they even got to live longer than expected.

while they were recovering so was everyone else, some going back to the island and some choosing to stay. of course going back to ruins wasn’t easy but they all did what they could. staying back due to his injury and also needing some help to move around, levi found himself living among who once was the enemy. he also found himself in their care, often being led around by gabby and falco as they try to rebuild their lives together.

for pieck on the other hand, she was unsure where she would reside. in some ways she felt that she betrayed the goal, but also knew that they did the best they could in the end. it doesn’t mean the thoughts don’t eat her up at night, along with the images of her fallen comrade. just the one comrade in particular, the image of his face all bloodied as he gave himself up.

it haunts her, but she is not the only one with these nightmares. the stoic captain himself has seemingly grown used to seeing fallen soldiers, but all that is a façade he has forced himself to show outside. in truth, he is still haunted by the images of his family torn apart and his squad being thrown around. worst of all he is haunted by the moments of his commander taking his last breath. he knows he could have saved him, but did he really want his to suffer more than he already did. this was his way out, why would levi rob him of the freedom he finally had. the only freedom any soldier had.

as these two are plagued with these horrifying thoughts, there is also a small silver lining. a small shop that was run down in marley, had been restored as a gift to the ex-captain himself. a gift from his fellow comrades as their final goodbye, as they depart for new ventures back home. the home levi no longer calls home, it now seems so desolate after losing everything he had. having to start anew in the place he once fought against, but it feels awfully comforting in a way. it became his distraction, of course he had to have the occasional help of gabby and falco but he did not mind it at all. it was only when their parents intervened to also help out, it made him feel useless. even though it was for the better, they insisted he couldn’t handle running the whole shop himself so he needed to accept some sort of help. of course he could not hire a stranger, especially with the guilt he held so it seemed he wouldn’t be able to run this business fully.

that was until pieck had volunteered herself to help work around the shop. it was a shock for them all, mostly from the surprise of seeing she had stayed back in marley instead of leaving with the ex-scouts back to the island. of course she had thought about escaping her old home to join the island devils once more, but she decided to stay and work through her guilt towards her home.

at first levi was reluctant to let her join, but he felt he owed it to her. especially for having to lug him around so much during the war, but also for trusting hange and not killing them immediately. so with that, he no longer had to worry about the parents watching over him and no longer had to keep the kids away from living their own lives. it gave him a complete clear conscious, something he rarely felt.

at the start of their working together levi made it very clear on what he would handle on his own. pieck had no qualms about his choices, she agreed she would help only when needed as long as she got to do her own thing. while levi had his teas it came to a surprise that pieck had her baked goods, particularly scones and biscuits. it was the perfect mix of their hobbies that made their business become a nice little comfortable spot for the community, and at the same time they were finding the comfort they needed as well.

while it is true their nights are sometimes haunted with those traumatic incidents, it seems that they have gone down just a bit. only for a bit though, because sometimes the smell of a fresh brew reminds levi of those late night meetings he’d have with erwin. especially those nights before expeditions when they both thought it could be their last. sometimes pieck spills her mix because she sees porco asking when the scones will be done, she even swears she can her his voice calling out that her baking is burning right before the timer goes off.

all these memories play in their heads, but they’ve become bittersweet. when the day finally ends they take what’s left over and enjoy it themselves in silence. no words are needed, not even when they notice the other’s shaky hands or the single tear that falls down a tired face. they don’t need to be discussed because the feeling is mutual. the guilt they share will remain but the scones can make it taste a little sweeter and the tea can help wash away some of the fears they once had. this is their new way of living, this is their way of coping. this is what their peace looks like, for however long they manage. the small teashop in marley, a new home.

#aot #levi ackerman #fanfiction #aot fanfiction #pieck aot #levi aot #porco galliard #aot erwin #erwin smith #levi angst #aot angst #pieck x porco #levi x erwin #pieck finger #aot porco #angst #fanfic #attack on titan #shingeki no kyoujin fanfiction

10 notes · View notes

leonhardt-simp · 1 year

Note

Well either way ,no matter who did it, shits about to go down and I will be here for it all 😉 The drama,angst, and probably a bunch of unhelpful side comments from a certain fanged girl

(cough* Hitch *cough*) who said that? Not me

Thinking more about it though,it makes me wonder how both parties will react (The wolves and the vamps I mean)…again, ✨drama✨ Is what I’m here for

Angst anon 💔

I can see a big distrust happening that’s even worse than before 😭 Imagine one of them having to skip town 💀 Hitch wouldn’t mind leaving I feel.

God the fights, could you imagine it getting so bad people start suspecting something.

#anon: angst 💔#werewolf au #vampire au #Pieck and Hisu gonna be at the negotiating table and just constantly disagreeing

5 notes · View notes

elmundodeflor · 2 years

Text

Everything Has Changed - A Jeanpiku Oneshot

“If there was one thing Jean Kirschtein had learnt from his years spent on the Scouts, was when to resign an already lost battle. As stubborn as he was.

And so that morning, when he woke up next to Pieck Finger, he was sure:

Everything had changed.

Nothing would ever be the same.

Or, being back in Paradis resurfaces the pain from long lost memories and, in the midst of the night, all Jean can do is seek for his once mortal enemy.”

You can read the full thing here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/40508913

Kudos and comments and any type of support is always more than appreciated!

Thank you to everyone who decides to drop by and read! <3 <3

10 notes · View notes

nightfall-kachiniko · 2 years

Text

AOT girls (+hange) with s/o who has an ED

tw: ed talk of eating disorders, anorexic reader, body dysmorphia, various eating disorders, vomit, blood, descriptive mentions of suffering with an ed.

cw: mikasa, annie, pieck, hange, hitch, sasha, ymir, historia, gn!anorexic!reader

a/n: writing this bc of relapse, thought if I needed it someone else out there needed some comfort too. Youre not alone.

𓏲·˚ ͙ mikasa

- the worst part of your day was always looking at yourself in the mirror, you’re eyes never failing to be filled with glimpse of hatred and disappointment. Its all you could ever do. No matter how fast you walked past your mirror, or how quickly your eyes glanced over at the little scale beneath your sink, you always had to give in. Food became numbers and no longer names. An apple renamed as ‘90’or 15 grapes being referred to as ‘50’. That voice ringing in the back of your head as you picked at your skin in your reflection. Little words beginning to spill out from the back of your mind and to your subconscious. It was never enough. No matter how far the numbers went down on the scale, all you could see was a blur in your mirror. That’s all you ever were.

- “you look beautiful,” a voice behind you softly said as you jumped, looking at your girlfriends reflection in the mirror, startling you. “Ah.. shit..” you muttered, “you scared me,” you chuckled out. She unfolded her arms as she came up behind you. Her hands wrapped comfortingly around your waist, as she buried her head into the back crook of your neck, placing a small kiss on your skin. “I wish you could see yourself the way I see you,” she spoke gently. The embarrassing feeling washed over you as you let out a small scoff, you’re eyes avoiding hers in the mirror. “You tear yourself to pieces, baby..just because you don’t like one little thing about you.” You could feel her orbs looking at yours as you looked to the opposite side. “You are so perfect y/n.” She said. “I just.. I don’t feel it..” you whispered, your eyes looking back at your body in the mirror. Disgust and disappointment in them. Mikasa softly kissed your skin, her arms tightening around you. “I have loved you since the day I met you.” She confessed. “All of you.” A soft smile appeared on your face, as you finally met her eyes. “I see the way you look at yourself.” You felt your girlfriends soft breath on your neck. “Your face filled with total disappointment and hatred.” She placed another kiss on your skin. “But to me, you’re perfect.” You sighed, looking down at the sink, inhaling and exhaling a deep, shaky breath. “You are the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.” That feeling washed over you again. The one that is so indescribable it doesn’t have a word for it. “I wish you could see that.” Mikasa brought her hand up to your face, cupping it gently as you made you face her. You turned your body away from the mirror and to her eyes, inches away from her lips. “I love you, more than anything I can describe.” She kissed your cheek, “and no matter what you think of yourself, the way I have always seen you is so different from what you think.”

“You’re loved, y/n.”

𓏲·˚ ͙ annie

- your girlfriend placed a plate in front of you as you looked up at her, your face confused. “You’re eating.” The woman spoke, “that’s final.” You felt your chest drop as the words escaped her mouth. A feeling of anxiety coming over you as you looked back at the plate in front of you. “I..” you managed to get out, “I’m not-”

“Hungry?” Annie asked, “yes you are.” There was a pit in your stomach, but not the one from not eating. The one filled with fear, guilt. “I’ve heard that lame ass excuses too many damn times to count.” She said, “and if I have to sit here and spoon feed you like a child then I will,” Your leg shook as you fidgeted in anxiety. A shaky breath exhaled from your lips. “Im not gonna sit here and let you do this to yourself.” Annie’s words softened up from what she previously spoke. You locked eyes with her, the voice in the back of your head ringing like a fly next to your ear. ‘Is it really worth it?’ It said. “Annie, I can’t.” You spilled out. “Yes you can and you are,” your girlfriend said more sternly. “All it is is just more calories to burn,” you tried to explain. “Calories?” She scoffed, “you’re so fixated on calories that that’s the first thing that comes to your mind when you look at this.” You sighed. “Not even that its youre favorite food? Or that it’s what you had on our first date?” You looked back at the plate as you realized that what Annie said was true. Your mind just went straight to calories, nothing more than just calories. “Anne.. I’m sorry I didn’t even realize..” you said, guilt in your voice. “This whole ‘fitness’ thing,” she shook her head, “isn’t even fitness if all you’re doing is hurting yourself.” Her eyes laid on you like stone. “You..” she inhaled, trying to hold herself back. “You are gonna keep doing this until you finally kill yourself.” Those words. They couldn’t be true, no no this helps you this doesn’t hurt you. What’s with a little bit of hunger for something you’ve wanted to years? “I am not going to kill myself!” You pushed your chair back from the table as you stood up, exclaiming. “I am finally losing weight! This is helping me!” The woman stood up too, “This is killing you y/n how do you not realize it!” She yelled back. “I don’t know if you care or not but there are people that love and care about you.” Annie’s breath shook as her emotion changed from anger to a sadness. “I love you, and I can’t stand to see you do this to yourself.” She explained, as tears piled up in her eyes. “I don’t want you to die.” Her words echoed through your head as you felt a glimpse of guilt. “Annie. Im not going to die.” You whispered. She hugged you as you felt her body slightly shake. “Please y/n.. I can’t lose you.”

𓏲·˚ ͙ peick

- “honey? Are you going to eat?” Your eyes glanced up from your plate to your wife, seeing concern in her eyes. Your heart pounded with a gutting feeling as you replied with a “I’m just not hungry..” you said, starring back at the plate in front of you. You felt a hand touch yours as pieck held your hand from across the table. “Baby is there something you wanna tell me?” She asked, gently. You sat there and just sighed, wanting to sink deep into your seat and hopefully into a hole in the floor. “No I’m fine pieck.” You stated a bit more firmly as you sipped your water.

- Your wife admired your face as she studied all of its details. From your sunken in eyes to your cracked lips, your pale clammy face to the slight tremble you shook. She had just recently picked up on your habits and started to study you closely-watching from afar. But pieck couldn’t take it, she couldn’t bear to continue to watch you do this to yourself. “I know there’s something going on y/n..” she gently said, breaking the silence in the air. “and i wanna help you..” Your eyes avoided pieck’s as you looked to your plate. “I know you’re hurting yourself.. and I can’t stand here and let you hurt like this..” she said. “Y/n look at me..” you felt guilt pile up like a weight on ur back, the heavy hurt you wanted to tell, the silent words that screamed in your mind yet never came out. You finally lifted your eyes to meet hers, seeing the hesitance and plead in her orbs “I’m here, I’m right here.” She stated, giving out a small smile. And you knew she was.

𓏲·˚ ͙ hange

- The fullness. All you craved. All you ate. Its all you felt. All you regret. And now staring down into the pool of vomit in the toilet that laid in front of you, your body shaking as you tell yourself ‘one more time, just throw up one more time’ as the world became blurry in your vision. You told yourself last time was the last time you’d ever binge, yet here you are again, telling yourself the same lie. You couldn’t tell if the reason why tears streamed down your cheeks was because of the pounding fist you forced to the back of your throat, or the crippling sadness you felt lying inside your chest. It was like poking a sleeping bear, food was. Telling yourself that today would be the day you finally get back on track, where you actually stop the cycle of sleep, starve, binge. Though the second your mind wondered a bit too far, or your tongue missed the flavour of that longing food you resisted yourself from having all week , it was like yelling at the bear to wake up and devour you. And yes, the bear did. The impulsive second as you would grab whatever you could, whatever you wanted, whatever you deprived yourself of having, and eating it like it was your last meal on earth. Not caring if you hadn’t lost ten pounds, not caring if you had gained five. And in those seconds, in those moments where it all poured down your throat, you felt nothing. Not a single thing, just a relief. Thats until you walked past your reflection, or felt your stomach bulge in fullness. Feeling like a glutton, starring at empty wrappers and dirty dishes. Wondering to yourself, why did i do that, why did i do it again. No one got it. No one understood what your night time snacking really was. Your partner, Hange, glad that at least you did eat something today. But its not what you wanted. The feeling of fullness, a sin to you. So no one would notice when you turned the sink on to use the bathroom after eating. Why you’d barricade yourself inside those four walls, shoving your hand down your throat in an attempt to get rid of the mess you made. And even as your teeth start to brittle, or your knuckles start to break, all you wanted was to escape.

-And finally throwing up that last chunk of whatever you let yourself consume, you threw yourself back at wall, gasping for air as blood mixed with stomach acid and spit ran down both your fist and your mouth. “Y/n..” a soft knock was heard at the door as your eyes widened and body tensed, throwing yourself at the puke filled toilet to flush it. The door opened as your eyes laid in shock and fear, your partners eyes laying on you sitting on the floor, arm flushing the toilet. You quickly wiped your mouth, just to realize all you did was spread the vomited blood and spit more. Hange’s eyes filled with shock and terror as hers matched your own. You braced yourself with fear hidden deep within you, only to be met by a strong firm hug. Hange pressed you, covered in blood, spit, and vomit up close to her. Her hand stroked your hair as your eyes glistened with tears of sadness and relief. You were finally seen. You felt tears of her own stream down and drip onto you. “I’m.. im so sorry..” Your voice shook as well as your trembling body. “shh..” the brunette softly shushed you, giving you a kiss on the side of your head. “You don’t have to speak honey, I see you..”

𓏲·˚ ͙ hitch

- “Wow y/n! Going back for another run?” Your girlfriend looked at you as you headed out the door, your gym clothes on. “yep!” You said, “I still have 5,000 steps ‘till i reach my goal!” Hitch scoffed before saying, “Thats a bit intense, don’t you think?” She looked at you with one of her ‘hitch’ looks, a look where you just know what shes saying with her expression. “I mean.. three hour long runs in the same day..? Are you alright y/n?” You shrugged off her remark before saying “Yeah, just gotta burn off desert from yesterday, you know I had too much cake.” Hitch blew her hair out of her face with a sigh, “alright..” she rung out, “just dont over do it.” You smiled softly before heading out the door.

-“Is that all you’re having?” Marlo asked you, starring at the protein shake in your hand. “Yeah?” You questioned, “Why?” The conversation got Hitch’s attention, looking at you from the glasses she was pouring . “No way Y/n, go get some of the dinner I made.” You hesitated, quickly coming up with an excuse. “I’m on a liquid diet.” You said in response. Hitch’s eyes flicked over at you, concern in her eyes. Everyone continued talking, sharing stories from when you were all in the survey corps in you and hitch’s living room. The small get together was suppose to be a nice catch up event before your girlfriend somehow made it into a drinking party. The woman put down the champagne bottle and starred at you, quickly looking around the room before walking past you, nudging you to follow her. You did so, following her into your guy’s bedroom. She closed the door after you, motioning for you to sit down on te bed. “Y/n, whats been going on with you?” She said worried. “What?” You quickly shook off her concern before saying, “I’m fine-“ “No,” Your girlfriend resisted, “You’re not.” She sat down next to you, her hand placing over yours. “This whole.. fitness.. thing…this is more than just wanting to be healthy babe.” She explained, hitch careful with her words. You felt your heart sink, had it really been that obvious? You questioned yourself. “I- uh- i just want to better myself.” You stuttered until you came up with the right excuse. “Is this about losing weight?” She asked, her face more soft and monotoned. “No hitch its not.” You quickly brushed her off, standing up. “I’m fine, you’re over reacting-“ She scoffed hearing you dismissing her. “No I’m not Y/n, if anything this is seriously affecting you,” you felt irritated as you couldn’t stand hearing anymore of her worrying. “See! You get so easily mad at me because you’re not eating!” You honestly just wanted this conversation to be over. “So what if i want to lose a few pounds, thats my business not yours!” She shook her head in disbelief, “see, i told you its about losing weight! And all your doing by over exercising and not eating is damaging your body.” Hitch said, “I don’t want to see you like this, going through this.” Your girlfriend sighed, “I don’t want you thinking that you’re alone.” Your girlfriend placed her palm on the side of your face, “because y/n, you’re not.. i understand what you’re going through.. okay?” You practically melted into her touch, a feeling of relief coming over you as you did so. “I just don’t want you to think you’re alone baby.. because your not..” You saw the concern and love deepen in her eyes, as you realized all she cared about in that moment was being by your side. “I get it babe, I’ve been through it, it takes one to know one.” She scoffed a small laugh. “Hitch..” you softly whispered. “I love you okay? You’re my partner. I’ll always be by your side..” She said as she pecked a small kiss on the side of your cheek.

229 notes · View notes

phantommaws · 5 months

Text

My first art of 2024!

PikuHan angst of a scene from my planned fic “Pale Reflections”

Without giving too much of the plot away, this is from a section of the fic where Hange visits Pieck in a dream to reassure their grief-stricken lover.

TikTok:

Reference by mellonsoup:

#attack on titan #hange zoe #aot #hanji zoe #hange zöe #hangezoe #pieck finger #hange x pieck #pieck x hange #aot pieck #snk pieck #attack on titan pieck #attack on titan hanji #attack on titan fanart #aot fanart #aot angst #i love these two #PikuHan my beloved #fanfic art

17 notes · View notes

bloompompom · 6 months

Text

A Little Joy

✽ summary: your pregnancy comes as a surprise, but the even bigger surprise comes when you tell your husband on christmas, twelve days later. ✽ content: ~6.4k word count. husband!eren jaeger x fem!reader. modern au, established relationship, reader celebrates christmas, mentions of jean x pieck, light angst, some fertility struggles, pregnancy, morning sickness/emetophobia warning, super soft domestic fluff, smut with big feelings, showering together, slight overstimulation, alcohol, explicit language, explicit sexual content. reader discretion advised. 18+

You found out you were pregnant on a Friday afternoon. You were home alone after finally drumming up the courage to drive to the convenience store. You grabbed a bottle of ginger ale, some crackers, then paced down the personal care aisle at least four times, as any normal, rational person would.

You weren’t exactly trying to get pregnant, but you certainly weren’t preventing it either. Or if you were, you and Eren were doing a shit job at it, if it wasn’t obvious enough already. It was an unspoken agreement between you—‘if it happens, it happens.’ And if it didn’t happen, well, it didn’t matter because you weren’t really trying; no reason to get your hopes up.

When you woke up before sunrise on Thursday morning, it wasn’t because you felt particularly bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. You were whatever the opposite was—bleary-eyed and droopy-tailed, like one of those dogs in those terribly sad commercials. You lay in bed on your back, hands folded over your stomach, right under your ribs, and told yourself that you didn’t have to vomit. You don’t have to throw up, you definitely don’t have to—

Then you launched out of bed, skittered to the bathroom, and did exactly that. You flushed the toilet, brushed your teeth, and wrote it off as nothing more than a fluke.

When Friday morning rolled around and the process repeated itself, it was no longer a mere fluke. Only then did the thought cross your mind, right as you finished dry heaving into the toilet bowl: it’s happened. Finally.

You stayed quiet about it, slipping back into bed like you had never left. Not getting your hopes up, remember?

You chugged the ginger ale on the drive home, which didn’t help your nausea but ensured you had to pee. You tore open the cardboard box, skimmed over the instructions—you knew the drill, you’ve had scares before—and you followed every step. When the first test came back positive, you had more water, waited it out, then took another. Again, two pink lines, bold pink lines stared back at you. Then you grabbed the second box you purchased, a digital test, and prepared to take that one, too. The conclusion was the same; the third time was the charm for you to finally believe you were pregnant.

You did some quick mental math. If it was Friday, then Christmas Day was twelve days away. Eleven sleeps ‘til Christmas, you thought, like a kid giddily awaiting Santa’s arrival. Could you hold out until Christmas morning? Could you keep quite possibly the biggest secret of all time from your husband for twelve whole days?

It’d be the best present, wouldn’t it? Better than anything money could buy—better than anything you had already bought and wrapped for him. Yes, it was true you weren’t trying to get pregnant, but maybe you had been asking yourself, ‘Is this the month my period would come late?’ only for it to arrive perfectly on time. Again. Maybe you were gushing over cute babies more often and staring at little families at the grocery store for too long—or too longingly. You’d stopped worrying about birth control around a year ago, and he’d stopped bothering to pull out not long after that. So maybe there was a part of you—of both of you, because you could see it on Eren’s face, too—that wondered when, if ever, it would be your turn.

That was why you ultimately decided to keep it a secret. You had to. You wanted to gift him the reason to lose that wistful face he got whenever you’d point out another teensy pair of stupidly adorable baby shoes. The face you would catch every now and again, like that time you helped clean out his parents’ attic.

It was warm at first, nothing but smiles and feel-good memories as the two of you rifled through box after box, deciding what you should take home and what should get donated. Old family photos, forgotten action figures. All the picture books his five-year-old self cherished.

Eren took a few of his favorites home with him, tucked under his arm as you said goodbye to his mother. She was quick to point them out, smiling as she made sure he had Corduroy with him, leaning into you to explain that it used to be his favorite. He said he couldn’t find it, that book you didn’t even know he was searching for.

No, it wasn’t the missing book that had him bothered. You had almost made it out of the house with your fuzzy feelings still alive and intact, his hand almost on the doorknob when she made the comment every parent seemed to love:

‘Does this mean I can expect my first grandchild soon?’

‘We’ll see.’ ‘Who knows?’ ‘Not yet.’ You couldn’t remember what Eren told her, but what you did remember was the look on his face. On that car ride home, you still didn’t talk about it. You didn’t talk about it because you weren’t trying to get pregnant. And if you weren’t trying, then you had no hope to lose in the first place.

Now, you could only imagine the new look on his face—probably an ear-to-ear smile in excitement for your future, your family, and for the longest nine months of your lives as you waited to meet your little one.

He would be so surprised, too. He would never expect you to be able to keep a secret with your big mouth, as he liked to say. It was perfect.

The only thing left to do now was figure out how to present it to him, because twelve-day-old pee sticks sitting lonely in a box would be a pretty sorry sight.

Christmas was ten days away when you realized this was harder than you thought it would be. Not only the secret keeping but finding a creative way to surprise Eren. You had scrolled through countless forums, scoured through every cheesy dad-to-be gift that existed, but nothing felt right.

You had never considered how you would give the announcement before, and never did you think to make a big show of it. You always thought it would be as simple as outrightly saying the words—or even less than that, just running out of the bathroom with the positive test in hand. And you certainly never imagined you would keep it to yourself for longer than a few hours, let alone twelve days.

You decided to call your best friend for ideas. You debated if it was fair to tell her before the father of your child, but you wouldn’t do it without good reason, and this was as good a reason as ever. And technically speaking, you had known her longer, since high school. You were sure that buried somewhere in your friendship pacts was a promise to tell each other first. That was your justification.

You tried to sneak beneath her best friend radar with a coy, “If you were going to reveal a huge secret to Jean on Christmas, how would you go about it?” But who were you kidding? She immediately saw through you.

“Oh my god. You’re pregnant, aren’t you?”

You fell to your bed with a flop. Not in defeat but in that dreamy, cloud-nine way. Finally, someone knew. You could hear your smile spilling into your voice even as you warned her, “Please don’t tell Jean.”

Jean was her husband. More than that, he was one of Eren’s good friends. The two of you actually met each other through the happy couple, way back when. Best friends dating (and now married to) best friends. It went without saying that if Jean found out, then you might as well have told Eren yourself.

“I won’t, I won’t,” she assured. But she didn’t offer any more than her word because she, too, was clueless on pregnancy announcements.

Eight days until Christmas. You didn’t want to jinx it, but so far, your only symptom had been waves of nausea. You supposed you felt a bit sleepier than normal, only if you really thought about it.

You believed you had done a good job at pretending nothing was off, but your husband must know you better than that. Either that, or you were just that horrible of an actor.

That morning, you met Eren in the kitchen, greeting him with a big yawn—yeah, definitely more tired than usual. Pot in hand, he offered you some coffee, but the fresh-brewed scent you once loved now made your stomach churn.

You swallowed hard, said a short, “No, thank you,” and opted for toast, just toast, instead.

He gave you this skeptical look. Something must be wrong if you weren’t in the mood for coffee. You were half-tempted to drink it anyway, but then he approached you, slipping his hand around the nape of your neck. He drew you into him, placing a prolonged peck on your forehead like he always did when you were sick—his preferred way to check your temperature. You imagined he’d do the same with your child, too.

You didn’t feel feverish to him. He tossed you one of his usual quips—“Who are you, and what have you done with my wife?”—but after you stammered something about dinner not sitting well, he brushed it off just as thoughtlessly as you had at first.

Crisis averted, for now.

Three days out, and you had started to think you might burst. The excitement that stirred in you had only intensified, your nausea now a fifty-fifty split of morning sickness and anticipation. It was to an embarrassing degree, too, like a child let in on a secret, walking around with puffed cheeks as if they’d erupt at any moment.

Not really, but that was what it felt like, only because you had finally thought up the perfect way to tell him.

Since that afternoon spent cleaning the attic was fresh on your mind, you thought to find those childhood books of his. You went searching in a few closets but discovered them sitting lonely in the corner of your spare room—storage room. It was a glorified closet by now, its only purpose was to hide forgotten items and eye sores. Everything, the books included, had collected dust. You’d have to get to cleaning and organizing it in the coming months.

You picked up one of the books, blew the dust off, smearing away the rest with your hand, and flipped through the pages. It was a walk down memory lane as you poked through a couple more books, the ones you remembered from your childhood. Then you thought of Eren—little Eren. Of footie pajamas and cheeks smushed in his hands, leaned into his mother with interest. Not exactly curled up in bed; it was more likely he was rolling around like the fussy thing he supposedly was.

You thought of him, years from now, sat on the edge of the bed—you could already imagine where you’d have it. Your toddler curled up beneath the blankets as Eren read to them. Or, if they would turn out anything like him, they’d be crawling atop him as he could only try to read. You couldn’t wait to learn which they’d be, who they’d be, and all the little joys of parenthood. It’ll look good on him.

That was when it came to you, your light bulb moment. The missing book: Corduroy. It was something special enough, specific enough, that only he’d know the meaning, because he was a sap like that. That was how you’d tell him. Why hadn’t you thought of it sooner?

Considering it was a long-time beloved book, it would be as easy as waltzing to the children’s section of any old bookstore. It would probably be front and center, too.

So that was what you did, and it only took thirty minutes roundtrip. You wrapped it with what leftover paper you could spare, stuck a pretty gold bow on top, and placed it underneath the Christmas tree with the other gifts you’d bought him, now paling in comparison.

Eren was packing the last of the gifts into the car when you snatched one, the important one, from what remained of the pile. You thought you were sly enough, that you had waited until his back was turned, but he caught you as you went to hoard it away.

He stopped, arms full of tinselly boxes, stacked high enough that he kept them steady with his chin rested atop, and curiously asked, “Not bringing that one?”

Over the years, it became a tradition to spend the day at his parents’ house, and somewhere between your late breakfast and four o’clock dinner, you’d open presents together, save the few and not-so-far-between indecent ones his extended family didn’t need to see. Which would explain the knowing eyes he was giving you now; why he didn’t question your quick, ‘It’s for later,’ before you left to hide it in your bedroom closet.

The morning was dipped in molasses. Every hour dribbled on by, every minute tacky and stuck to the next, until you were wading around in the liminal afternoon hours. You weren’t alone in the feeling, though. For as much as you suppressed your restlessness—laughing on cue though your mind might as well have been on another planet, declining a mimosa for the third time and still sounding just as polite as the first—Eren wore his plainly; sat on the edge of his seat but not in the I can’t wait to get the hell away from my family sort of way you would expect.

The impatience was there, yes, but not in the dreadful sense of the word; it was more sanguine than that. An anticipation to return home and settle in for the night, or for the gift awaiting him.

Or, more simply put, an impatience for you. Just you. Perceptible in his touch alone, beneath his touch, when he’d sneak up from behind and pull you into a hug. His hold was desirous—not sensual and needy but innocent, like some innate urge to keep you close. Every kiss pressed into your temple was tinged with benevolence. His palms, weighty with warm devotion, melted you as they curved over your hips and around your stomach.

You could blame it on the holiday spirit, how it tended to coax out such gooey, lovesome feelings. Mix that with the glass of wine he had and it would make perfect sense as to why your love language is physical touch husband was lovey dovey with you. But he had that glass well over an hour ago, and you couldn’t help but wonder if somewhere deep inside, like in his subconscious or id or whatever it was, he knew. Whether he was aware of it or not, some part of him had to know. It radiated from his hands, secure and protective as they always found their way back to you, resting on your thigh beneath the dining table or against the dip in your back as he slid past you in the kitchen. He couldn’t get enough—couldn’t have you close enough.

You assumed that to be the reason you left shortly after dinner, ‘regretfully’ having to skip out on board games tonight, as Eren put it, his hand snuggly at your back with his thumb making small circles you felt through your sweater.

It was dark when you stepped outside, enough that you would have thought it was midnight if you didn’t know better. It had started snowing, with chunky flakes that pitter-pattered against the ground instead of swirling through the air. It stuck, though, and by the time you arrived home, there was a powdered sugar coating across the lawn, shimmering in the streetlight.

You rambled on about your forgotten leftovers as you slipped from your boots. Eren’s hands came to your shoulders, helping you out of your coat sleeves. He hung it in the closet, listening to you recall the pan you had left behind, too. And while you ruffled his hair, picking the fat snowflakes off the top of his head, he assured you he’d grab the pan the next time he visited.

He held you in his arms, your rightful spot for the day, and felt you shiver between his hands.

“Cold?” Eren asked.

You nodded but immediately wished you could retract it. A grin spanned his face as he took it as the go-ahead to slip his hands beneath your sweater, his fingers like icicles against your back. You only responded with a sharp yelp, snatching his wrists and breaking free from his grasp.

After he stopped laughing, Eren made it up to you by running a hot shower, one you could share together. With your clothes reduced to a puddle on the bathroom tile, your December-frozen skin tingled beneath the stream of water. Your neck curled at the sensation, how it traveled to your toes the same way the steaming water trickled down the curve in your back. You rolled your shoulders and unwound from the day, watching as it washed down the drain.

All day, you only focused on what was to come, your mind racing and reeling until the moment you could be alone together—this moment. About as private as it gets. As ephemeral as it would take for the water to run cold. Short-lived and spurred by a collective sigh.

You always enjoyed showering together. Not shower sex, just showering. Not its most benign definition, but more innocent than the innuendo it carried. Though you would argue it was just as intimate, perhaps more. For what was more visceral than confessing you couldn’t stand to be apart, even for the minutes the mundane task would take, so why not do it together?

After all, it was easier that way, wasn’t it? More efficient? Not so much. But you didn’t crave efficiency, you craved him, his embrace, the feeling of skin on slippery skin.

The same hands that smeared away droplets from your face traversed down the expanse of Eren’s back, every divot and every groove of it. You slid them around his torso, his arms raised as he lathered shampoo into his hair. You flattened your palms to his chest, held him close enough that your cheek was smushed against his back.

Your eyes crinkled shut before soap dared to drip into your eye. You spat the acrid taste of it from your mouth, only for a chorus of laughter to follow, his inciting your own. Your dilemma worsened. Enough for him to help you rinse off—for you to be sure he tasted it on your tongue as you swapped kisses back and forth, stolen between splatters.

You’d been clean for some time now, the water was lukewarm, but you remained, content with his hands rubbing your shoulders, his lips intermittently seeking yours, as dutiful as they were doting, leaving you moaning ever so frailly into his mouth; little whiffs of respite as he kneaded out the tight muscles. Your head tipped to the side with this sleepy bend just for him to catch your chin and bring you back to him, your head foggier than the humid bathroom.

You were only towel-dried when Eren reminded you of the gift, probably thinking you’d forgotten about it.

Of course, you hadn’t.

You found him in the bedroom, him wearing only a pair of plaid pajama pants, his chest slightly sheened from the shower, and you in just a fluffy towel, pinned beneath your arm. You asked him to wait while you put on a set of pajamas and fetched the gift. But before that, you lit the candle at your bedside, just to really set the mood.

“No peeking!” you called out before disappearing into the closet.

You were giddy to know that, like you, this had been on his mind all day—for different reasons, but that only made the surprise better.

You returned to find him sitting on your bed with his eyes on you, undeniably stealing a peek.

“I said no peeking!” You hid the present behind your back.

“It’s wrapped!” He didn’t take your scold seriously until you pulled a face. Then he closed his eyes. “I already saw it earlier, remember?”

You ignored it, pleasedly telling him, “Hold out your hands.”

He did, and you set the gift into them, prompting him to take a look.

Eren inspected it briefly, then ripped the gilded paper at the corner. The cover poked through, not enough for him to recognize it but enough to fit a finger beneath and widen the tear.

Once the paper was crumpled on the floor, he chuckled lightly. He angled it around in his hand, looking over the cover that was glossier, newer, than the one he remembered.

It was a sweet gift. He appreciated the thought that went into it. How you learned it was missing and clung onto that tiny detail for months for this moment—a trait he loved about you.

“It’s perfect,” he started to say. “It’ll complete the collection for—”

Like it was recorded in slow motion, you watched very second the realization took him by the shoulders and shook him. There was a drop in his expression as he cautiously asked, “Wait. Does this mean…”

Where he left off, you picked up, nodding eagerly as you said, “I’m pregnant. We’re having a baby.”

You didn’t know what happened first, whether you had ended your sentence or if your squeal had cut it short as Eren scooped you into his arms. Your feet left the ground as he spun you around in the biggest bear hug you could imagine, this effervescent feeling bubbling from your stomach and escaping you in a fit of giggles.

He plopped back onto the bed and took you down with him, the mattress bobbing beneath your shared weight. You were still in his arms, legs draped over his lap, as he scattered kisses across your face, wherever he could. Even missing a few, with some at your neck and ear.

You took his face between your hands and kissed him straight on the lips, quick. His smile smushed his cheeks in your hands as he asked, “This is for real?” You nodded again, kissed him again. “This is happening?”

“We’re gonna be parents,” you affirmed, letting the reality of it finally sink in.

You traded kisses. Ones that had your fingers knotting in his shirt and his hand venturing to back of your head, keeping each kiss longer than the last until you were making out. You didn’t know when that happened. Somewhere along the way, between roaming hands and sweeping tongues, your touches turned fervorous. You were both so happy and kissing and oblivious to everything but how deeply you needed each other, like it might actually ache if you were to separate.

And while he couldn’t go another second without having you, evident in the way his lips sought out your weak spot on your neck, he laid you on the bed more thoughtfully than he ever had before. The old mattress didn’t trill beneath you; you weren’t splayed against the bed, toppled over, and taken right then but coddled and caressed. You found it endearing, how careful he was, as if right before his eyes, you had suddenly become something that he could easily break. So endearing that you couldn’t help but let out a soft giggle as your head sank back into the pillows.

Eren propped himself above you, face-to-face, both of you smiley. You were enveloped by him wholly, with his palms planted at either of your sides. You tucked his hair behind his ears to get a better look at his face, still a bit giggly.

“You know how this works, right?” you chaffed, not above some good-natured teasing. “I’m already pregnant.”

He shushed you, closing the gap between you until his grin was pressed against your own. Until you not only heard his laughter but felt it reverberate against yours and tasted their unity on your tongue.

His lips veered to the corner of your mouth. He kissed you there, trailing more down the side of your face. His nose nestled behind your ear, tickling you as he kissed beneath your jawbone, right where you felt the thud-thudding of your pulse against his lips.

His hand caressed the length of your body, smoothing down your hip and grasping the fat of it before sneaking beneath your tank top on his way back up. It tore a faint groan from you, from the very back of your throat.

Those light, airy kisses began to linger. Not lips merely pressed to your skin like a stamp but soft slips of his mouth, his tongue, until he reached the notch between your collarbones.

He tugged the neckline of your top down, exposing your tits and taking the peak of one into his mouth, all in a single, easy motion. He didn’t neglect the other; his hand was gentle as he massaged and explored the swell of your breast, pinching your nipple between his middle and index fingers and rolling until it was perked for him. His tongue, stroking and flicking and licking, had your other in the same state.

It left you breathless, your mouth dumbly agape, parted by gasps. Your vision had gone glossy to everything but Eren, your senses dulled to anything that wasn’t his mouth ravening your tits, his tongue licking the valley separating them, his lips pursed and sucking your nipples until they glistened with his spit.

You perched high on your elbows. Your tanktop pooled at your midriff, its loose straps dangling around your biceps, pathetic and practically begging Eren to strip you of it. And when he did, it looked just as useless on the other side of the bed as it did on you.

You slumped back into the mattress only for your hips to go next, elevated and encouraging his fingers, hooked around both your silken sleep shorts and underwear, to take them off, too. You delighted in it, how your bare body melded with the blanket. You brushed a hand along it, felt your skin glide against it. It was downy and fluffy and tickling you, everywhere.

He wrestled out of the pajamas he’d just put on and sat back on his calves. The sinewy muscles of his chest went taut, his arms raised as he fingered through his hair. He collected it in his fist, then tied it off at the back of his head, getting it out of his way. It was messy; he was unfocused, more attuned to you, his wife, happy and giggly and naked below him. His eyes trailed from the crown of your head to between the legs he split and wedged himself between.

“Beautiful,” he said, not with a lilt but spoken like fact—not to you or him, but like he wanted the cosmos to know it. “You’re fucking beautiful.”

He snaked a hand under your back, lifting you as he leaned in to meet you halfway. You felt him stiffly pressed against your leg first, then his mouth at your chest. He peppered your sternum with kisses. Between them, he told you, “You’re gonna be the hottest mom.”

He laughed first, anticipating your reaction—more once it actually happened, the cute gasp you gave with his name on your inhale. His breath tickled over your delicate skin, and you playfully tried to pry yourself from him. He only held you closer, pulling more giggles from you as he kissed and kissed his way down until his lighthearted lips were laden with hunger, his tongue laving down to your navel in reverence. Then lower on your stomach. He left a few extra kisses there.

Before Eren went any lower, he freed himself from his boxers.

His hands took hold of your inner thighs, sculpted the plush of them around his fingers. He pushed back on them and settled in the space he made between. He brought his thumb to you, pressed it against your clit, and that was all it took. No flicking, no rubbing, it was that alone that had your lower back tightening, the arch of it lifting from the bed.

He hummed a short laugh, satisfied with his work. He was closer to you now. So close that you felt his lips graze your entrance, his hot breath surging through your body as if it could quell every one of your chills, as if he wasn’t the cause of them.

Your hand flung to the pillow, twisting the pillowcase between your fingers in frissons of anticipation, gripping harder when you felt the smooth lick he gave the crease where your leg met your body. He kissed you there, too. He kissed you everywhere he could manage, again and again, except for the spot you wanted—needed him most.

All the while, you could only stare down at him, big-eyed, with kiss-swollen lips sucked between your teeth. You tried to stay still for him, but your hips were unruly. They helplessly wiggled, enjoying his attention but desperate for more of it.

His mouth finally closed over your heat, making your knees buckle and collapse to the bed. Your inhale was sibilant, shaky but the sweetest sound, like a choppy thank you until your voice cut out.

Eren had you languidly, with his face lying comfortably against your thigh. He licked you like he found just as much indulgence in it as you. He lazily spread you with two fingers, even taking a full second to admire you, pretty and puffy and pleading with him—only a second though. That was all he could last before his mouth practically watered for you, raring to taste you again.

Exposed, like this, every swipe of his tongue was like he was licking electricity up your spine, every bolt stronger than the last. Your body flexed as you teetered the line between too much and don’t you dare stop. Somewhere between shying away in reflex and hoping he’d yank you back down to his mouth.

And he would. With arms locked around your thighs, he lifted his head and angled it perfectly, granting him the opportunity to dart his tongue inside you, fucking you with it when he wasn’t encircling your clit.

There was a ravenous side to his tenderness; adoration hidden behind the hunger. The two contrasted only to come together, meeting in the center and knotting themselves tight, tighter. Until it—until you—snapped. You came with a stretch of your back, with white-hot stars flashing behind your eyelids.

Eren’s thumb drew little circles against your thigh soothingly, yet his mouth didn’t leave you, his tongue still slotted inside your heat. He groaned, besotted by the taste of you coming on his tongue, how he could feel every flutter of your pussy on your comedown. He greedily wanted more of you, all of you, and all to himself.

You didn’t know how long you’d been there, just like that. It was easy to lose your sense of time, if you even had it in the first place, what with the way the bedroom hadn’t stopped swimming around you. The bedroom curtains were drawn over the windows, thick enough to keep out the streetlights. The only source of light came from the quick flicker of the candle, its glow rippling across the wall.

Your legs hung limply over his shoulders now. One of your hands had buried itself in his hair while he held the other, your fingers intertwined. His tongue swirled around your clit, as ardent now as it was for your first orgasm.

Eren knew your body by now. He knew it well enough to understand what a squeeze of your hand meant, how you’d pet through his hair reassuringly—a silent ‘keep doing that’ when you didn’t have the breath to speak it aloud. And he’d keep doing that until he knew you had finished.

He’d brought you to three moony orgasms—the drawn-out kind, like you had wandered into a dream—and he was actively working on your fourth.

It was comparable to the slow build of a roller coaster: that foreboding tick tick tick pace, the gentle pressure of his flattened tongue, licking you with broad stripes until you were at your peak. You’d hang there for a second, abloom and upcaught in the delicious current that was just shy of becoming entirely undone. You’d careen the tippy top and wonder when you’d finally plummet.

You would only come once he decided, and after deciding you had been patiently buzzing long enough, he started to lick you faster.

You could barely tell him you were coming because it ripped through you then, sparking low in your pelvis. Your tiny chants of ‘fuck’ melted into one long, sheet-gripping moan as the feeling shot higher, like it was caught in your throat.

Right then, as you were blissfully crashing for him, Eren pushed himself to his hands and took his rightful place on top of you. He replaced his tongue with his cock, pushing inside you to the hilt with an effortless thrust.

Your bodies came together and stayed just like that as the feeling racked through you, both of you, like you shared an electrical current. It lasted a century but only existed for a wink, a whole-body tremble as you suddenly, finally, felt full. Every throb of your orgasm was a tantalizing threat, forcing him to hesitate lest he risked finishing before he’d even started. You wore his expression, and his yours: a subtle drop of the jaw in relief, the very corners of the mouth curled in ecstasy.

Then he began to steadily move his hips, firmly but not fiercely fucking you through your orgasm.

You were sensitive. Every fiber of you was frayed at the edge and rekindled. The luxurious flame erupted higher in your stomach, burning from the crests of your cheeks to your toes, then back up again. The snapping of his hips was punctuated by you bouncing against him, another gasping moan tumbling past your lips. You smothered them, with arms tossed around his neck and your lips devouring his. They became nothing but wet whimpering sounds for him to swallow.

Against your mouth, he mumbled, “You make the prettiest sounds when you come,” and you tasted every syllable.

You felt everything. You flipped through emotions like one flipped through a book or shuffled a deck of cards, one right after the other.

You felt fizzy, the same lightness that comes with a huff of helium, like you could drift away. You felt his leg against yours, how it made every hair on your body stand on end.

You felt safe, bound and anchored by his weight pinning you into the mattress; your nose bumping against his, your fingers tangled in his hair.

You had plunged into one another. Found the deepest parts of each other and weaved yourselves into one, belonging together irrevocably. You felt wanted, and you found yourself wanting. You wanted him so close that it’d be impossible to discern where you ended and he began, as if you weren’t already fit together perfectly with him inside you.

The wanting was mutual. Right now, Eren wanted to offer you everything, to give with a generosity he couldn’t explain. His mind, his body, his heart—even deeper, his soul, if souls even existed; he wasn’t here to argue that. Every gentle caress and every harsh kiss was like the push and pull of the tides, to and fro until they crashed down in a rapturous wave. And like the moon, he could look down and know he was the one to coax it out of you.

That was all he wanted right then. That, and his wanting for your future just past the horizon, spent together with a family of your own.

Flushed from fucking, with sweat rolling down between his shoulders, he cradled the back of your head, tilting it to nip at the lobe of your ear.

“You. This.” His cadence was tense and brilliant, calm while you were in a tempestuous storm. “This is everything I’ve always wanted.”

The words swathed you like a wool blanket, squeezing your chest until you thought it might explode. You were already too full for such feelings—your heart brimmed with them, your own proclamations thick in your throat, his cock still buried inside you.

The world was dreamlike as Eren tipped your chin again to look at him. His pupils were blown, irises darkened sans a thin ring of green. You didn’t speak but what you told him was loud.

I love you, I love you, I love you.

It emanated from your eyes; words unspoken were signed and sealed with kisses along his shoulders and up the column of his throat.

He came then with a shudder, with a gruff groan that was warm on the ears and his hips slammed into yours one last time.

He collapsed to his forearms with his heart thumping hard and his chest heaving against yours. You noticed the faint quiver in his biceps, counted his breaths. After the fourth he pulled out of you, his fifth breath sharp through his nose. You felt the wet heat of his cock against your stomach, felt the aftermath—the lewd combination of the two of you—drip from you. He rolled to your side, and you laid there, sticky sheets and all, like lovers do, not parting immediately but bathing in the afterglow.

You were still basking in it, practically sweltering now, when Eren opened his arms for you, ticking his head for you to come his way with a murmur of, “Come here, love.” An invitation you wouldn’t dare deny.

Cloaked beneath his arm, you felt his hand take your chin. He guided your faces together and kissed your forehead.

Just to have you there with him, his cheek rested upon your head, your breath warming his chest; to have you to fall asleep next to, every night, your body puzzle-pieced with his—all of that was enough for him.

And as Eren slipped his arm around your waist, just before he drifted to sleep with his hand over your belly, he couldn’t help but smile. You were so clueless as to how much you meant to him, how much you’d given him. The greatest of all was yet to come, and they would be with you this time next year.

thank you for reading ♡

#eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren smut #eren fluff #dividers by @/saradika

842 notes · View notes

mossgh0st · 2 months

Text

As If It’s Heaven’s Gate (Levi Ackerman x Reader)

Summary | Levi is caught in a dark place following the battle of heaven and earth. Believing he’s undeserving of life’s sweetness, he deprives himself until you show up on his doorstep. Inspired by and based on Too Sweet by Hozier.

Content | Angst, Fluff. Sort of slow burn? No use of y/n. Levi is a grump, reader is shorter than him. Brief mentions of off-screen sex. Italics are song lyrics that each section is inspired by.

Pairings | Levi/Reader. Mentions of Jean/Pieck.

Notes | As soon as I heard Too Sweet, I knew I needed to write about Levi. Header is from ‘kii on Pinterest. Hope you enjoy!

——————————————————————————

It can’t be said I’m an early bird, it’s 10 o’clock before I say a word. Baby, I can never tell, how do you sleep so well?

After the war, Levi becomes a creature of the night. His meticulous bedtime routine and eves of deep, restful slumber have become wrought with nightmares, teeming with the faces of everyone he’s ever loved having succumbed to their bitter ends. He’s forgone the tea, a relic of a previous era; he now prefers an amber liquid that stings on the way down. A balm that numbs, heavy bottomed glass filled only a quarter of the way. When he ventures beyond the confines of his home, he asks for the tippy top of the top shelf - Levi always takes his whiskey neat.

You know you don’t gotta pretend. Baby, now and then, don’t you just wanna wake up, dark as a lake, smelling like a bonfire, lost in a haze?

Some days, he’s lucky if he retires before the sunrise peeks over the hills and pulls itself up to the high point of the sky. Letters go unanswered, bookshelves less sparse as he fills the majority of his time with thick, leather-bound tomes. The newspaper has becomes the perfect kindling, headlines boasting peace negotiations melt and turn runny with the heat of the blaze. When Levi wakes each hazy afternoon, it’s with the lingering scent of bonfire strung about the atmosphere. His once grey eyes have turned deep, a color so sharpened it resembles the water on a lake just before the claps of thunder rumble and bring down swells of rain.

But while in this world, I think I’ll take my whiskey neat. My coffee black and my bed at three.

He knows he won’t live forever. He’s not at all interested. At this point, he’s pleading for the same sweet release from the world he afforded Erwin. Levi has spent so much time dwelling in the night, the darkness is threatening to become him. Then, you show up, one damp afternoon. Modest sundress, two small bags, a green ribbon tying back your hair. The glow you emanate is too much for him. He wants to be angry, filled with a rage so intense it convinces you to leave running in the midst of the spring storm, ribbon flying behind you. The pit in his stomach solidifies when he can’t bring himself to be irate, softened by the cold flush of your cheeks and the sheepishness of your smile as you stand, delicate in his doorway.

You’re too sweet for me, you’re too sweet for me.

At first, your presence does nothing to alter his routine. You rise with the sun, the first blinks of morning are spent brewing a sweet coffee in his kitchen, silent save the chattering of the birds. The dregs of his previous evening’s fire catching in the wind and mingling with the scent of bitter coffee grounds. Levi rises long after the sun has hit it’s peak, emerging in loose slacks and a half undone shirt, the sleeves rolled. You cross paths only briefly, while he pours his glass of amber whiskey and you prepare your cup of evening tea. A silent understanding has occurred - you can stay, if you don’t intervene. So you read in the overgrown garden, take your coffee with milk and two sugars, visit the bookstore, the seamstress down the block from the town’s main square, and worry about him only when you are tipping over the ledge into sleep.

But who wants to live forever, babe? You treat your mouth as if it's Heaven's gate.

The first change is subtle: tea leaves are disappearing faster than you’re brewing them; you know he’s dipping into the store after you retire each evening. Then, when the usual night terrors creep up again, plaguing your mind and leaving your lungs in a vice grip, the second change occurs. Levi waking and comforting you after a string of particularly violent dreams, a different sort of understanding passes when he murmurs, “I still see them, too.” You find him in your bed then, most mornings. Your routines still separate, bodies occupying different halves of the day for weeks. Coffee, bookstore, seamstress, reading, garden. It continues on, life in your solitary bubbles, except the brief overlapping in the early morning when your breaths mingle in the same space between your sleeping forms.

I wish that I could go along, babe, don't get me wrong.

The paradigm shifts once more when he begins to rouse the same time as you. A brief wave of shame washes over you as you realize he’s already awake, you cannot observe his closed eyes and smoothed forehead, the lines of his face set in peace, the soft parting of his lips, or the slow rise of his chest beneath the thin blankets. That morning, you show him how to make the coffee, and he grumbles after burning the first pot, squinting in the bright light. He notices you smiling out of the corner of his eye and something rattles around in his chest. You add three sugars to your cup. He accompanies you to both the bookstore and the seamstress, his silent presence a new comfort. Levi wants to ask why you chose him, chose his home, when there are happier and more accommodating friends, current or former members of the 104th. There’s no doubt in his mind that you’d be better off with someone like Mikasa, in her quiet cottage by the sea. Even Jean and Pieck, or hell, Reiner and his family.

You're bright as the morning, as soft as the rain.

Within a few months, Levi’s world has changed. It’s brighter, fuzzy around the edges. There’s a few sundresses in the closet of his room, a growing stack of books on his dresser. A knit shawl is draped over the chair in the living room; and the guest bed hasn’t been used in several weeks. He lets her brew the coffee in the morning, his palate now well suited for the taste, and takes chrysanthemum tea in the evenings. The garden has a bench now, front row to the beds of geranium, lavender, and snapdragon. When you smile at him through the kitchen window, an understanding dawns on him, an awakening blooms inside of him. He’s seen this look before, many times; over a shared water jug during an expedition, sleepy and exhausted over a fire surrounded by their comrades, during meetings with military leadership, after the battle of heaven and earth, and on the day you were assigned to his squad. You would never go to Mikasa’s, or to Jean and Pieck, even Reiner, or anyone else. He would never let you.

Pretty as a vine, as sweet as a grape.

The first touch of morning is chill, a breeze dancing its way through the open window, sheet gathered at his waist as Levi rouses from sleep. He hears your hums from the kitchen and swings his feet over the bed. He’s drawn to you like bees are to flowers, cloying aroma and sunlight and all things good. Forgoing the tie of his robe, he begins purposeful strides down the hall. Then, you’re there, back turned and hair down. The hem of your pale nightgown sways as you wait for the pour of coffee, glowing in the sunrise, hands over your upper arms to stave off the late summer air. You’re lost in a daydream. Levi comes to stand behind you, listening to the melody you hum quietly. The deprecating, nagging voice he contends with daily in his mind is quieted - it’s just you now; always you.

If you could sit in a barrel, maybe I’d wait.

It’s quiet when he slides an arm around your waist, body warm and flushed. It’s quiet when you turn in his hold, meeting his grey gaze with lingering surprise and pink cheeks. It’s quiet as he pulls you in closer still, hands coming up to rest on his chest. Quiet, as Levi brushes his forehead against yours, eyes closed, fingers flexing in their hold of you. Completely silent, as he tilts your chin up, up, up, and brushes his lips with yours. The taste of you nothing like he had ever dreamed, and oh, had he dreamed. When you push up onto your toes to deepen the pressure, sigh into his mouth, his black bitter heart nearly bursts through his chest.

Until that day…

And when he takes you shortly after, coffee long forgotten, limbs so tangled it’s near impossible to discern where you end and Levi begins, lips parted and dewy with sweat and each other; he can only think of the sweetness this life has afforded him in you, how the bitterness of his past has made way for this belonging.. well. There’s truly no such thing as too sweet, is there?

#levi aot #captain levi #levi heichou #levi x reader #levi attack on titan #levi x you #levi ackerman #levi x y/n #levi fanfiction #levi blurb #levi oneshot #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi Ackerman oneshot #aot oneshots #attack on titan oneshot #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x y/n #user!moss writes

193 notes · View notes