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peachybella444 · 1 day

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Birthday girl

18+

“Wassup mami.” Connie greeted, eyes trailing over your body, your curves on full display in your outfit. “You look good.” He licked his lips, eyes looking you up and down once more before enveloping you in a hug.

“Thank you, Connie.” You cheesed. His usual scent of weed, lavender, and sage fueling your senses.

“I didn't know you were gonna be here.” He leaned in close to speak over the loud music playing throughout the house.

“What do you mean? This is my celebration.” You giggled.

“Whatchu mean ‘your celebration’? Did I miss something?” He furrowed his eyebrows.

“It is my birthday Con.”

“Oh shit. Happy Birthday, mami” He hugged you again. “Why you ain't tell me? I woulda got you something.” He scolded.

“I figured you knew already because of Sasha. Plus you don’t need to get me anything. Especially since you never let me pay for my shit.” You rolled your eyes, though you were extremely grateful.

“Whatever. Ima get you something regardless.'' He kissed his teeth. “Is this your house?” He motioned to the large modern house, its lights dim and filled with your closest friends, loud music, liquor, and weed.

“It's my family's vacay home. Wanna tour?”

“Yeah, for sho.” Next thing he knew your hands were entwined as you showed him around the house. As the tour continued upstairs, Connie could feel the blood rushing to his dick. The sight of your ass peeking from your skirt as you walked up the stairs had him ready to get on his knees, and truth be told he didn't know whether it was to bury his face in between your thighs or ask to marry you.

“And then this is my room.” Your words brought him out of his trance.

“It's very you.” He walked around the room analyzing everything, from the pictures on your wall to the strawberry vanilla candle that was recently burned.

“In a good way?”

“Of course mami, everything about you is good.” He stood behind you as you took pictures in front of your large full-length mirror, arms wrapping around your shoulders as he posed with you.

“These are cute, Con” You gushed, as you swiped through the pictures.

“We look good together.” He mumbled.

“We do.” Your eyes locked. The energy shift was so quick you felt like the wind had been knocked out of you. “Connie?…”

Connie had wanted you craved you since that night you asked him if he sold pre-rolls. He didn't, but you were just too pretty to say no to. Since then, he longed for something more than what you already had.

He had planned on asking you to be his numerous times. From the first time you sat in his passenger seat where you gushed about how much you loved his car to just two weeks ago on your usual late-night drives when neither of you could tell if the sexual tension was due to the sativa or the breaking point of all the intense eye contact and not so subtle touches you shared the past month. Neither of you acted on it but it no longer mattered anymore, he had the opportunity right now and he was going to take it.

“Lemme make you feel good.” He broke the silence. Large hands grabbing your hips to pull you closer.

“What?” You instinctively leaned into him, thoughts going fuzzy.

“I know you heard me.” He muttered into your neck, light pink lips littering kisses onto your neck.

“C-Con, what are you doing?” You bit back a moan as he sucked harshly on the spot that had your knees weak and panties soaked.

“Be truthful, ma. You thought about this before or nah?” He pulled away from his assault on your neck, admiring the faint mark forming on your brown skin before looking into your eyes.

“What about-”

“Just a yes or no mami.”

“...Yes”

“Do you want to do this?” His hands traveled to grip the soft flesh of your ass through your skirt

“Please.”

“Then let me take care of you. You're the birthday girl after all.” He whispered before his lips were on yours.

The kiss started slow and passionate, before his hands gripped the back of your thighs, lifting you off the ground like it was nothing. The kiss became needy and sloppy. Saliva mixing as his hands roamed the area of your ass before gently placing you on the edge of your bed.

“Connie” You panted.

“You're so beautiful” He groaned, kissing down your body, his tongue running over your exposed cleavage before he unbuttoned your top.

Immediately his mouth was back on the soft flesh sucking gently on your nipple while he pinched and rolled the other.

“Fuck, Con” You whined, looking down into his hazel eyes that were staring you down. Releasing your nipple with a pop he gave attention to the other, his tongue rapidly flicking over the nub.

When he was finally satisfied with your whimpers and whines he let up his assault on your breast, peppering a trail of kisses down your pudgy belly before completely undressing you.

“You're so damn pretty. You know that?” He kneeled in front of you before separating your thighs. “Fuck”

Connie swore he could feel himself get lightheaded by how fast the blood rushed to his dick. The sight of your pretty pussy having him on the verge of cumming in his pants. Your pretty brown lips glistened with your arousal, the prettiest pink he'd ever seen peeking out between your folds the wider he opened your legs.

“Con.” You whined, cool air breezing against your clit.

“I got you, ma.” He gently kissed your clit. It wasn't long before he needed more, fingers digging into your thighs as his tongue traced the outline of your clit before dipping inside your folds, lips wrapping around your clit as he sucked on the bud.

“C-Connie shit.” Your hands traveled to his head, long acrylic nails running over his buzzcut to hold his head in place.

Letting one leg fall he replaced his lips with his thumb, rubbing tight circles on your clit, as his tongue teased your hole before diving deeper. Your walls immediately clenching onto his tongue.

“Fuck pa, oh my god.” You whined, hips bucking as you tried to push his head away though it was no use. He was pussy drunk, his tongue relentless as it slurped up your arousal before diving back into your spasming hole. “Fuck, Connie m’cumming.” Moans spilled from your lips at your release.

Despite your shaky legs and attempts to push his head away, Connie continued to lap at your pussy, slurping every last drop of cum before lifting his head.

“You taste like fucking heaven.” He groaned, kissing your inner thighs before standing. Not bothering to wipe his chin of your cum before taking his shirt off. His flexing muscles and ink-littered torso had you feening for more. “Fuck, turn around, ma.” He pressed a sloppy kiss to your lips before flipping you around.

Your back arched, head resting on your arms. Connie couldn't resist the way your ass looked, kneading the soft flesh before landing a slap to your right cheek, eliciting a moan from your lips.

“What's your safe word mama?”

“Red.” You looked back, the sight of him spreading his pre-cum that leaked from his angry pink tip making your mouth water. He was big, at least 8 inches, thick, and fuck, it looked so heavy.

“Shit, m’gonna fill you up mami.” He slid his tip in between your folds, gathering your slick before lining up with your entrance.

“S-shit.” Connie let out a shaky breath as he sunk into your tight walls. “Fuck, relax, ma.” He could barely get his tip in without you squeezing him tight. “Breathe mami. I got you.” He gripped your hips sliding deeper into your soaked pussy, tip kissing your cervix once he fully rested inside you.

“Con.” You moaned, nails gripping the sheets tightly.

“I know mama.” He rubbed slow circles into your hips as he started to feed you slow deep strokes “Doing so good for me, look.” He tilted your head to the mirror. Your ass ricocheting off his hips with each thrust he delivered, his pace increasing.

“Fuck, Connie, please.” You moaned over the loud sounds of your pussy sucking him in and the claps of your ass.

Your words encouraged him to go faster. His hand wrapped around your throat, the pressure he applied mirroring the way your walls tightened around him.

“Ugh- fuck keep doing that nd imma put a baby in you.” He groaned. He was so deep, stretching you to full capacity. The repeated kissing of your cervix, having you see stars.

“Con I'm so- mhmmp I'm so close.” Connie could feel his balls tighten at your words. You were so addicting.

“Yeah? Gon head nd nut, mami. Let it go.” His eyes focused on where your bodies connected, a white sticky ring forming around the base of his dick.

“Shiiit” You moaned into the mattress, your walls spasming around his dick as you came, your cum dripping onto the mattress.

“Fuck” He groaned, his release following right after yours. Thick ropes of cum being shot deep inside you. He continued to give you slow strokes to ride out your orgasms before pulling out. After taking the time to clean you up he got you settled in bed, the party long forgotten as he rubbed soothing shapes onto your hip, giving you soft sloppy kisses as you drifted off to sleep.

“Happy Birthday mami.”

had to do something for my baby connie also ik fuck was used a lot im sorry lol buuuuttt i like to think I'm getting better at this but idk y'all tell me.

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leviismybby · 10 hours

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The sexual tension between you and Levi when you're mad at each other is over the roof. Both of you are too stubborn to apologise so the whole day is full of sarcastic remarks and banter. Levi noticed you struggling with your gear straps, you always hated adjusting them, he walks over to you and sits down on a crate, his grey eyes looking at your leg. "You still don't know how to tie gear properly?" His scoff makes you roll your eyes, you hate how good that gray shirt looks on him, you just want to rip it off- but he will never let you forget it if you tell him that.

He taps his thigh. "Come here." You groan angrily but do as he says and sit on his lap. Without turning around, you already know that he is smug about it, his hands reach for your straps and his fingers work quickly to tie them, he adjusted them properly and made sure that they are on tighty. You huff and then get off his lap however his hands land on your hips and he keeps you in his lap. "Try again." Shivering you sigh. "Levi this is ridiculous-" Squeezing your hips, he bounces his leg a little and it everything in you not to turn around and kiss him but you manage. "Thank you for tying my gear, Captain." He loosens his grip on your body, he knows what youre doing with calling him that. "Good girl." That makes you groan, he is teasing you back. "You're so annoying." Getting off his lap, you glare at him and Levi just smirks slightly, he knows you'll melt right into him later.

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ackermanbloodline · 1 day

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Five things Levi would do if he was your boyfriend (part 1?):

1. Hold the door open for you

It’s no secret that Levi is a gentleman when it comes to the woman he loves. Whether a regular entry door or a car door, he always would make an active effort to hold it open for you first. He jogs over to it, pulling it open like it weighs nothing.

“Ladies first.” He would mutter with a slight smile. You always thank him.

If it were a car door, he would lean over to fasten the seatbelt over your lap. You watch his strong hands glide over your thighs and swiftly force the buckle into the clasp. The subtle smell of his cologne fills your nose. After tugging it taut, which makes you lose your breath, he would lean in and kiss your cheek.

“Safety first.” His lips brush up against the shell of your ear.

2. Bring you fresh flowers often

While Levi's presence outside the walls certainly brings you more anxiety than you can sometimes bear, it doesn't mean it lacks glints of light. After almost every mission, a beautiful vase of wildflowers of every color sits on the kitchen table the following day. Even if he spends the night at the Scouts Headquarters. You don’t know how he manages to get those home without being crushed or wilted, but you don’t question it.

“Levi, these are beautiful,” you’d muse, walking over to the table. You’d lower your nose into the petals and take a deep inhale. They smelled like hope.

“I thought so. Almost as beautiful as you.”

“Ha,” you nearly snort. “Thank you.”

3. Answer your door if it was someone you didn’t know

If an unexpected visitor showed up at your residence and Levi was there, and you didn’t know them, without question or prompt, he would go to the door to answer it. He would handle the business himself, too, if possible. A neighbor bringing over a casserole? Levi would take it and thank them. The evening newspaper being delivered to the door? He would fetch it for you. A salesperson trying to make a pitch to you on their latest product? He would tell them to remove your address from their books.

“Who was it?” you’d ask.

“Just another salesman trying to get you to buy something.”

“Ugh… Were you nice?”

“Nicer than I should’ve been.”

4. Squeeze your hand or put a hand on your back when he sees someone staring

When you mutually decide to reveal your relationship to the public, he does so by taking you out to some sort of dinner ball at the Scouts HQ. He’s wearing a dashing suit, one that fits him well and brings out the most handsome aspects of his physique: a flattering pair of black pants that hug his muscular thighs and the curve of his ass just right, a white button-up with the top few buttons undone that shows off the rippling muscles of his back and rolled up to the bend of his elbows to reveal his veiny, muscular forearms, a shiny black pair of leather shoes, as well as a suit jacket that he keeps for you but doesn’t bother to wear once he’s seated. He even wears the petite silver chain around his neck that you got him for his birthday one year.

When you first walk into the massive ballroom, the number of stares you notice and the quiet gasps you hear when people look your way make your cheeks heat. The whispers that follow echo in your ears. Levi tightens his grip on your waist and pulls you gently closer to him as a nonverbal cue of reassurance. You look up at him, and he nods.

We got this, his eyes say.

5. Do little things for you

Levi was the king of little gestures. To name a few, he constantly filled your water bottle when it was low or empty, made your bed if it was unmade, left handwritten notes for you to find, or came by with tea or coffee. And if he apologized, it wasn't verbally.

Recently, you two got into a fight. While it wasn’t bad, it left you two at odds. Almost a whole day had passed, and he hadn’t stopped by your house to see you. You knew he wasn’t on a mission since he mentioned he had some paperwork to catch up on over the next few days. One morning, while making your coffee, you noticed a strange sound outside your kitchen windowsill. An unfamiliar sound.

Once you got on a light coat and shoes, you wandered outside to investigate. A familiar figure was hunched over in your flower bed. He was unrooting all the overgrown weeds and throwing them to the side.

In a suit.

“Levi?” you call as you cross your arms over your chest. “What’re you doing?”

“Well, I… I know you’ve wanted to get this done for a long time and things have been busy lately, so…” he trails off, not breaking his concentration from the weeds. The flesh of his palms are nearly black. “I just figured I’d take the day and do this for you.”

“You’re… in a suit, though. To weed.”

“Yeah, I just came out from a meeting with the higher-ups. I worked all night so they forced me to go home.”

“And you didn’t bother to go home to change?”

“No, don’t need to.”

You scoff. You look around to see if anyone else sees the same spectacle you were. You take a deep breath before you walk over to him. You stand over him and eventually, he stops and looks up at you. The circles under his eyes are darker than usual. Has he slept?

“This apology is truly absurd,” you fight back a small laugh as you run a hand through his undercut. “Come on.”

“Where?”

“Inside.”

“No, I—”

“We can finish that later,” you interrupt with a slightly authoritative tone. “Right now, you need rest. And I forgive you.”

After a moment of thinking, Levi nods his head. His entire body language relaxes like he’s been holding tension inside his body for a long time, and exhaustion hits him like a freight train.

“Okay.”

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prettygiri222 · 3 days

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Summary: Onyankopon’s tired of hearing you complain

Onyankopon x Black Fem Reader SMUT

just a little smth so yall know i’m alive

“O-onya,” you cried out. he had you perched on the bathroom sink with nothing to hold on to but his arms. your quivering legs struggled to wrap around his waist as he kept you stable with a strong grip on your ass. you were completely at his mercy, “too much!”

Onyankopon frowned looking down as you furrowed your eyebrows. he had just started and you were already a beautiful mess. it took him only a few neck kisses while you were brushing your teeth before your thong became a soaking wet mess he was more than happy to help you with. he had you stripped bare in seconds, just barely lifting his wife beater and shorts when he sunk into your needy pussy.

“is that better?” he asked. Onya hated seeing you in pain so he slowed his pace. but he couldn’t lie, something about seeing the way you cling to him like a lifeline when he went just a little too deep or too fast made his dick jump.

“yea, sogood sogood” you babbled out.

the bathroom was filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin, the squelching sounds of his dick going in and out of you alongside your high-pitched moans and Onya’s deep groans. he had found a pace that both of you enjoyed. you held your head up to keep eye contact with your boyfriend but sometimes your gaze drifted to where you two were connected. you loved seeing how your tiny hole accommodated Onya’s massive length and girth.

only the upper half of his dick coated by your wetness. the lower part of his shaft was neglected due to your complaints about his size. luckily, Onya’s tip was the most sensitive part of his dick. he loved feeling your tight walls squeeze around it, “shit.”

“oh my gosh,” you moaned. you knew you were close to your orgasm when everything suddenly felt like it was too much. you tried to keep it together you didn’t want to ruin the impending feeling but it was driving you crazy. you could feel the way Onya’s mushroom tip scraped against your walls paving way for his even thicker shaft. it felt so good that it was starting to hurt.

you bit your bottom lip to try and distract yourself but all it did was muffle your moans as they turned into cries. your toes clenched around his back and your nails were starting to dig into his arm. all it took was one look for Onya to know that you were close. he kept the same pace knowing you were close and he wouldn’t be too long after. the feeling of your gummy walls practically suffocating his dick was enough for him to ignore the pain of you digging into his skin.

that was until you started trying to squirm away. wriggling your hips to avoid his strokes hitting your soft spot.

“where do you think you're going?” Onya watched as you furrowed your eyebrows and avoided his eyes. ‘not this again’ he thought to himself. he barely had his dick inside you at this point, there was no way that you were so sensitive.

but you were. “‘s to much Onya!” you cried. you finally looked up at him again, a fresh set of tears visible on your waterline. there was nowhere for you to run, you were stuck between a hard place and a set of rock-hard abs that was pretty much the only thing keeping you up. you could only plead for mercy.

“hm? it’s too much?” Onya mimicked. seeing you so vulnerable made both his heartbreak and turned him on. he would’ve listened to your pleas had you not forcefully tried to stop him, placing a hand on his exposed midriff hoping to slow his harsh pace.

“uh huh”

“yea? well now I’m gonna make it hurt.”

#anime smut #x black reader #aot smut #aot x black reader #black reader smut #aot x reader #onyankopon snk #onyankopon x black y/n #attack on titan smut #onyankopon smut #onyankopon x reader

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greedyhoneyz · 2 days

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Welcome to Wonderland

.ೃ࿔*:･pairing: eren yeager x pregnant!reader

.ೃ࿔*:･synopsis: soon-to-be-parents embark on a joyous adventure, preparing for the arrival of their little one in a quest to find the perfect stroller.

.ೃ࿔*:･cw: none. fluff. domestic.

.ೃ࿔*:･authors note: inspired by baby mine from @tojigasm. im in a 'baby' mood and wanted to write something other than football. you can probably tell that I haven't watched the show but honestly, I've kind of based eren on his portrayals by other writers on this app and what I feel he would say and act like if he was a modern character. truthfully i just need to watch the show, but I'm honestly not good at keeping up with shows in general.

Onesies. Diapers. Bottles. Pacifiers. Cribs. Toys.

This was the world of babies.

Eren had never felt so intimidated— standing by the store doors, a trolley glued to his front as he gawked at the avalanche of ‘everything baby’ in front of him. The signs above the aisles, all printed with words that seemed important, taunted him with ridiculing laughter and bizarre speeches filled with phoney concern.

Hesitantly, Eren veered around and then glanced at (name). He swallowed deeply before speaking between shallow breaths. “Where do we start?”

(name) was quiet for a few moments as her eyes aimlessly scanned the store floor. She let out a breath and then paused, blinking, before glancing down at her phone. “Uh,”

She padded her thumbs across her screen and scrolled through her baby registry.

“Strollers,” (name) managed to breathe out. She nodded to herself, assured by her choice and peered up at Eren, nodding once again. “Yeah, I think we should look at strollers first.”

“Strollers…” Eren muttered back slowly, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “…that's good.”

The metallic clatter and squeak of the trolley and its battered wheels followed Eren and (name) as they pushed the cart towards the “strollers & travel systems” section.

The trolley squeaked to a halt when (name) stopped. She blinked, rubbing her lips together and slowly stepped away from Eren.

“This is nice.” She spoke softly. She raised her hands, her curious fingers wriggling in the air, and fiddled with the straps and handle of the matte black stroller. From the platform where it was perched, she pushed it back and forth, whirling the stroller from side to side. “It moves nicely too.”

“This one looks good too.” Pivoting on the heels of her feet, (name) carefully stroked the handle of another. It was grey, except for its black frame, and carried a sizable basket beneath it unlike the other.

Eren hummed in response to (name) and shifted away from the trolley. He inclined forward and fiddled with the hood of the stroller, pushing it back and dragging it forward. He smoothed his hands across its aluminium frame and picked at the price tag, strapped at the handle. “Not bad, you like it?”

(name) shrugged. “It’s nice, but I think we should look around first before we decide on anything first.”

The trolley’s shaky rattle continued as (name) and Eren strolled through rows and rows of strollers in various colours, sizes and shapes.

The traditional strollers, with large wheels and adjustable handles, had quickly gained (name’s) favour, whilst the lightweight umbrella strollers, which were perfect for prompt trips around the town, perked Eren’s eye. The jogging strollers failed to reel both Eren and (name) in, and though their suspension and manoeuvrability brought ease and comfort, the couple could envision themselves going for light jogs across their neighbourhood with their little one in tow. It wasn’t their style.

“Is there anything here you like?” After a while of searching, Eren and (name) had broken off their stroll and huddled themselves into a corner and fueled themselves with the breakfast bars (name) had stashed inside her purse.

"No," Eren shook his head, swallowing, his face twisted.

“Well,” (name) began. “If we can’t decide on anything now, I think we should move onto bassinets–”

“What?” A baffled expression came to (name’s) face as she watched Eren shoot off directly to a larger display of strollers.

With a smile on his lips and sparkling eyes, he bent down to retrieve a car seat from the queue of strollers. He waved, beckoning (name) over and beamed down at the contraption below.

Gripping the metal ledge of the trolley, (name) towed it behind her as she walked.

She stopped, standing a few feet away and with an inquisitive brow, glanced down at Eren.

“Look.” Hanging his figure over the car seat, Eren turned his back to (name). He lowered his arms, positioning his hands on either side of the seat, its front and its back. He gripped the handle with one hand and tucked his other into the safety lock. He pressed the lock, heaving it upwards as its legs, tucked beneath, extended outwards. Setting it down on the floor, Eren carefully eased the handle from above the black hood and towed it above the seat. A quiet snap could be heard as he adjusted the handle to his hip with a single push of a button.

“Wow.” (name) gaped, her eyes wide and slowly circled the stroller.

“Cool, ain't it?” Eren smiled proudly. He pushed the stroller back and forth, wheeling it across the aisle in jagged lines. “‘Been looking at this online.”

“And it's good for travelling,” he boasted. “For when we fly. Oh, and it's light….it moves so nice….”

Resting her hand on the swell of her belly, (name) bent down and moved her hands across the seat, running her fingers against its smooth fabric. “But what happens when the baby gets too big and grows out of this?”

“Then…I…guess we buy two strollers?” Eren blurted out slowly.

“Babe… I don’t know.” Reclining back to height, (name) propped her hand on her hip and furrowed her brows together. She pulled her lips down into a frown and shook her head unhappily.

Eren could feel his heart plunge into the pits of his stomach as (name) scowled. He was convinced that the stroller parked before him was it. And now, as he stared at his wife, he wasn’t too sure she felt the same.

“Listen, baby, it's a great car seat and stroller,” he began. “C’mon, it's convenient and easy to use, we get this and it’ll make our lives so much easier when the baby comes.”

“Trust me, baby, I’ve done my research. I’ve watched videos and read reviews. This is the one.”

(name) thought a moment, gnawing at her bottom lip. After inspecting the stroller-car seat ensemble, she took Eren’s place at the wheel and rolled it across the aisle, and then back to him.

She stopped in front of him, parking the stroller a few inches from his feet and sighed. She blinked and blinked and then blinked again, and sighed, tracing her hand across its hood.

“Alright,” She said. “We’ll get it.”

Eren couldn’t help but cheer, thrusting his fists in the air before launching onto his wife. He wrapped his arms around (name), pulling her into his chest, her swollen belly pressed against his middle, and peppered kisses across her head, his nose bristling against her hair. “Yes!”

“Babe— Eren let go, you’re pulling on my hair.” Wriggling out from Eren’s grasp, (name) huffed, her eyebrows furrowed together and quickly patted away at her hair.

After calling for assistance, Eren, then armed with newfound instructions, made his way down the aisles to the shelf containing another replica of the stroller, with (name) in tow. Below it were two rows of boxes.

Eren reached out, bending his knees, wrapped his arms around the box and lifted it into the air. With careful feet, he hauled the box toward their trolley and plopped it into the basket.

“There.” He huffed. He wiped his hands and stared at the box, a twinkle glinted in his eyes, grinning from ear to ear as (name) looked on from the sidelines.

She approached Eren, a hand to the trolley, the other to her stomach, and studied him. In awe at the way, his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled and his cheeks carried a gentle, rosy tint when he was excited. His joy was palpable, radiating out from him like a comforting blanket.

As she gazed at him, (name) felt a deep sense of gratitude. Most women weren’t as lucky as she was, having a man so involved, so excited it’s damn near infuriating. But she cherished his joy, his nervousness, his wonder. He was new to this world, this world of babies, as was she, and whilst at times it was overwhelming, it was beautiful and intriguing to come to learn and to love the little human cocooned inside her belly.

And as Eren looked up and caught her eye, (name) returned his smile with one of her own. In a silent exchange, they basked in each other’s warmth, arm in arm, sharing each other’s bliss.

#black!reader #eren yeager x black reader #eren x black reader #eren x reader #eren jeager x reader #eren yeager x reader #aot x black reader #aot imagine #aot x reader #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan x black reader #attack on titan imagine

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blondieeu · 1 day

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can you please do some Armin smut because I’m so lonely🥲

i always struggle with armin😣

pilot. armin a.

armin whos youre husband.

hes not home too often due to his career as a pilot, but when he is home he makes sure to give you the attention you need.

as soon as he kicks the door closed and pulls off his work hat off hes already got you laid back on your shared bed, peeling off your skimpy pajamas that you'd tend to wear during the summer.

"welcome- mmph...home baby.."

he wont even let you get a word out while he kissed you, passion lacing his actions. hes pushing your satin button up further and further up your chest till his hand is cupped around your boob.

and before you know it hes got your legs wrapped around his waist. his work shirt unbuttoned, tie loose and hair messy. armin even had his pants still on, fly unzipped and belt unbuckled with his cock pushed through it cus' he was too impatient to really get it off.

"missed you bad.."

blondieeu xx

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satorkive · 1 day

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LOVER OF MINE ୨୧ EREN

lover!eren who falls first and falls harder in the relationship.

lover!eren who turns red when you’re around. he can’t seem to function well in your presence.

lover!eren whose love languages are acts of service and physical touch.

lover!eren who loves having his hands always on you. arms wrapped around your shoulders; kissing your forehead; and cuddling you to death.

lover!eren who adores doing things for you. he opens the door for you; he fixes your odm straps; he peels fruits for you; he brings your things so you won’t have a hard time carrying it.

lover!eren who stares at your beauty because he can’t believe he gets to have someone like you.

lover!eren who is willing to put you as first priority.

lover!eren who is willing to endure the darkness that comes after if it means being in love with you.

#🫧 — riri’s love letters!#i love ‘ren #aot #attack on titan #aot x reader #eren jaeger #eren x reader #eren fluff

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siythn · 2 days

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Aftercare

LEVIXREADER! Coming back to headquarters after a challenging expedition pained you. After all; the grime combined with the tightness of your muscles wasn’t a good pair. But, Levi's hands in your hair, with a cozy hot bath running, was a perfect one. _________ ♫ it's nice to have a friend - taylor swift ❝ʏᴏᴜ'ᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴇɴ ꜱᴛʀᴇꜱꜱᴇᴅ ᴏᴜᴛ ʟᴀᴛᴇʟʏ, ʏᴇᴀʜ, ᴍᴇ ᴛᴏᴏ. ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ɢᴀᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛʜᴇ ɴᴇʀᴠᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴛᴏᴜᴄʜ ᴍʏ ʜᴀɴᴅ. ɪᴛ'ꜱ ɴɪᴄᴇ ᴛᴏ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ❞

The walls of Trost loomed overhead, but the weight on your shoulders felt heavier as you walked through the gate. The journey you'd just completed had been long and brutal, soldiers' bodies and souls pushed to their limits.

After yet another grueling mission with the Survey Corps, your body ached in ways you didn't know were possible. Every bone felt heavy, every muscle screamed for rest, and all you wanted was a moment of peace.

As soon as your feet hit the headquarters’ courtyard, every step grew heavier, every breath more labored. Putting your horse away to rest at the stables made you weary. All you craved was a sanctuary, a moment of peace far from the chaos and the carnage that surrounded your body and mind.

Your body ached at joints you hadn’t noticed before. Arms tight by your side, legs begging to give out while dragging yourself. You bypassed the bustle of the other soldiers returning and made your way directly to a place you knew would be quiet, secluded, and safe— Levi’s quarters.

You can’t recall when going to Levi’s room was a place for comfort after a mission. It just had been a silent agreement between the both of you. Maybe it was his unwavering strength or the craving to have someone there to lean on, but his space always seemed to offer the tranquility you so desperately needed.

Which is why you found yourself walking in a familiar path.

Levi’s quarters were quiet and meticulously organized, nothing different from his nonchalant personality. You didn’t bother knocking, knowing he wouldn’t mind your intrusion.

The door creaked softly as you pushed it open, and you peered inside to find Levi at his desk, paperwork scattered in front of him, yet he looked up the moment you entered. It always amazed you how he looked so put together after such a reckless expedition. But this was the Levi Ackerman, nothing was expected less.

He must’ve arrived a few moments before you have; and is already shoving himself into paperwork. You’ve tried countless times to try and pull him away from his (what you like to call it) workaholic behavior, but he never budges.

“What are you doing here?” Levi’s voice was stern, but his eyes softened when you saw the state you were in. You must have looked as bad as you felt, worn out and on your last threat. But you couldn’t find it in yourself to care about your dirty state in the front of a higher-up.

“I just need somewhere,” you pause, breaking the eye contact you both held to look at the cozy, neatly made bed in the corner. “Peaceful to rest,” you murmured, voice barely above a whisper as you slowly shuffled towards his bed.

Without a word, he stood up, his chair scraping lightly against the floor. With a long stride, he approached you, gaze scrutinizing as he took in the full extent of your fatigue. You picked up the tiniest scrunch of his nose as he did so.

“You look like hell,” he commented, taking in your body one final time as he looked back up to meet your eyes. You knew he didn’t mean anything to come off as rude, his tone carried more concern than insult.

“Thanks,” you managed a weak smile, too tired to come up with a witty response.

Instead of his usual reprimand, for your state, Levi guided you gently by the hand. With being drained you still managed to hold his, following him to wherever he took you.

“Come on, you need a bath before you crash.” Despite your initial protest at first; wanting to sleep the ache of your muscles off, the thought of a warm bath was too comforting to resist.

Guiding you to the bathroom, Levi turned on the faucet, adjusting the temperature until steam rose in gentle curls from the water’s surface. He added a measure of soap that filled the room with a clean, soothing scent. “Get in,” he instructed, stepping out to give you privacy.

As you stripped down, the steam-filled bathroom was a stark contrast to the cold, harsh world outside. You sat in the warm bath, tendrils of steam curling around you, creating an intimate cocoon.

Your muscles relaxed involuntarily, a sigh escaping your lips as you submerged yourself up to your shoulders. Moving your fingers to touch the top layer of soap across the water, you sink into its warmth.

You’ve been in this position more times than you can remember, but you love it more than the last time before. Levi always needs to care for you, even when it’s not reciprocated.

Hearing the door creek open, Levi steps in. With a curt nod of consent given from both of you, he arranges everything needed for washing your hair with his usual quiet efficiency. His movements were precise, a trait that bled into every aspect of his life, but his eyes held a softness reserved just for moments like these.

“Alright, lean back,” Levi instructed, his voice faint in the confines of the small room. He waits patiently as you adjust yourself, finding a comfortable position with your head tilted back to the rest against the rim of the tub.

As he poured a dollop of shampoo into his palm, the familiar scent of lavender filled the air, mixing with the steam and creating a calming atmosphere. He began to work the lather into your hair, his fingers skilled and gentle.

“Tell me if I’m too rough,” he murmured, though you knew he wouldn’t be; he’d never had. Levi’s hands might be capable of deadly precision in battle, but here, they were nothing but tender.

"It's perfect," you sighed, closing your eyes to better savor the sensation of his fingers massaging your scalp. The stress of the mission began to melt away under his careful ministrations. "Where did you learn to do this?"

Levi paused for a fraction of a second, his hands continuing their motion. "Old memories," he replied quietly. "Used to help someone, long ago."

You nodded, understanding the unspoken depth of his words. Silence fell between you again, comfortable and easy. His hands rinsed your hair with water warmed to just the right temperature, washing away the suds along with the remnants of the day’s grime and worries.

"How does that feel?" Levi asked after a moment, tuning out the quietness that enveloped the both of you.

"Like I could fall asleep right here," you responded with a laugh. You were half-joking, but you were truly relaxed under his touch, ready to drift to sleep.

"You wouldn't be the first," he admitted with a rare, small chuckle. "But try to stay awake for just a little longer. I'm not done pampering you yet."

The word 'pampering' coming from Levi might have felt odd to anyone else, but between the two of you, it felt right—special even. His hands worked through your hair once more, giving you the second round of shampoo.

"Keeping my hair in good shape for the next mission?" you teased, eyes still closed as you enjoyed the sensation.

"Something like that," Levi agreed, dismissing your banter. "Can't have you going out there with anything less than perfect."

"It's more than just being clean," you commented, tilting your head to the left slightly to give him better access. You reminisce on when he said he was pampering you. "It's like you're—taking care of me."

"That's exactly what I'm doing," Levi confirmed, voice distancing out as if he was grabbing something. "You take care of everyone else. Who takes care of you?"

You smiled, eyes still closed. "You."

Levi's hands stilled once more in your hair, and you opened your eyes to look at him. There was a softness there, rarely shown to others. "I always will, if you let me."

"Then I will," you said, feeling a warmth spread through you that has nothing to do with the bathwater. "Let you."

With a smile, you lean back, exposing your neck and shoulders as he begins to wash your hair. His fingers were more tentative than his usual brisk touch, exploring the texture before massaging your scalp deeply. You couldn’t suppress a hum, relaxing under the surprisingly sensual touch of his strong, careful fingers.

“You should take it easy,” Levi spoke up after a moment, his voice low. “You push yourself too hard.”

You briefly nodded in response, too relaxed to form words. His concern made your heart swell a bit—Levi was not one to coddle, at least not to others, so his attentiveness spoke volumes.

Levi, Humanity’s Strongest, most vulnerable in your presence. It was laughable to others, to you, it was adoration.

“You should take your advice,” you say, peering up to see his face. “No seriously, you work yourself out. Maybe I’ll give you a hair treatment with how stressed you always look.”

His grin was small at your words. Almost imperceptible, but it was there, and it warmed you more than the bath ever could. He grasps onto your shoulder, moving you to be back in place.

He continues to wash your hair without complaint, his touches now filled with an unspoken promise, each stroke and rinse carrying a tenderness that spoke more than words.

As he finished and began to rinse your hair, his actions were deliberate, ensuring not a trace of shampoo was left behind. “But, I’ll always be here whenever.” He muttered as he gently raised your head back to rinse thoroughly.

"Thank you, Levi," you whisper, hearing the water flow as your knees come closer to your chest.

"There's no need to thank me," he replied, rinsing your hair and ensuring no suds remained. "Just promise to take better care of yourself."

"I promise," you said, knowing well that your promise was as much for him as it was for you.

The assurance in his words wrapped around you just as comfortably as the water did.

When he finished, he rinsed the last of the conditioner from your hair, then helped you stand to get out of the tub.

“You can sleep in my room tonight,” he commented as he handed you a towel with an averted gaze, modest despite the many times you’d fought and bled together.

Now wrapped up, you followed him back to his room, too drained to converse. Pulling a shirt from his closet, he hands you a baggy black pullover, then steps out to the bathroom; probably going to tidy up the place.

Back in his room, you felt a thousand times lighter. Levi watched you as you crawled into his bed, his sheets cool and crisp against your clean skin. He didn’t say anything, just watched you with an unreadable expression.

As you drifted towards sleep, you felt the bed dip beside you. Expecting to be alone, you murmured a confused protest, going to rise but it died on your lips and body as Levi settled behind you. His body was a solid line against your back, an arm carefully laid over your waist, not confining but reassuring.

“Rest now,” he whispered, his breath ghosting over your ear. It was the most delicate of invasions, and you found yourself relaxing into his embrace.

As sleep began to pull you deeper, Levi shifted slightly behind you. His movement was careful, calculated not to disturb, but purposeful. You felt him lean over you, his presence enveloping. Then, a gentle pressure—a soft, fleeting kiss—touched your forehead.

It was a simple act, yet it carried the weight of all the unspoken things between you: protection, care, and maybe something even deeper. Levi’s kiss was a silent vow in the stillness, a moment of tenderness offered with the solemnity of a confession.

Comforted by the gesture, you sank further into sleep, a content smile curving your lips. In a world that demanded so much from you both, this small, quiet act spoke volumes of your shared sanctuary.

#ꜱɪʏᴛʜɴ #aot #levi x female reader #levi x reader #leviackerman #levi fluff #aotau #aot x reader #snk levi #captain levi #shingeki no kyojin #snk #levi ackerman #fluffy #armin #eren #jean #levi x fem!reader

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sugarverse · 1 day

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your boyfriend who has no problem picking you up in the pool, forcing your hips against his before forcing your back against the wall of the pool "jokingly".

"My big baby just wanted to be held by me, right?" the warmth of his body made you shiver, feeling him against you as he pulled you and possibly closer.

or when he picks you up bridal style just to prove how strong he is, kissing your neck and threatening to drop you if you didn't squeeze him tight.

or when you get out of the pool for a moment to see him looking up at you with the upmost devotion. Staring at your soft tummy and stretch marks as they branch out.

your boyfriend who makes sure that your sunscreen is rubbed in, spending an extra long time on your back and thighs to stare at how plush they are.

ugh, i miss summer.

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levispersonalslave · 2 days

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Levi x reader, SFW, Fluff, Fem!reader, Househusband!Levi, Second person POV

Been having brainrot about Levi with a little daughter lately, so I wrote this quickly. Named the daughter Valentine but you can name her whatever you'd like ♡

The chocolate chips formed a clattering sound within the glass jar as he poured them into the large bowl, humming a soft tune to himself. His bangs were held back by a pink princess clip that he had borrowed from his generous daughter. He didn't bother keeping quiet, as he knew you were still working, hidden away within your office. Your constant workaholic attitude troubled him. He only wished for what was best for you and your daughter, yet he could see that your unending exertion had been taking its toll on both your physical and mental health. Despite his attempts at pleading with you to take a break, they all proved to be utterly futile. He would have to settle with taking on the task of attending to your beautiful little daughter.

Your ego wouldn't allow you to give in to his pleas just yet, so you'd have to satisfy him by eating the baking he was currently making. Chocolate muffins.

One hand holding the bowl with the other stirring the mix, he glanced at the closed front door. He hummed, wondering when you'll finally decide to come home just to refuse rest. He didn't mind, your attitude amused him greatly.

He felt a little tug at the hem of his shirt. Tilting his head down in search of the source, his gaze met his daughter's big doll eyes and beaming grin. She spoke in an eager manner, “Papa, can I help?”

His eyes softened at her innocent request. The corners of his lips curled upward to form the gentlest of smiles. He tilted his head to the side, gesturing towards a small stool, “Go get something to stand on.”

The little girl, whom he had named Valentine, rushed to retrieve the stool, her chubby legs skittering across the wooden floor. She returned quickly, pushing the small chair up to the counter and struggling to climb atop it.

He chuckled softly, leaning downwards to lift her and assist her up onto the stool. Her tubby fingers gripping the edge of the marble, her curious eyes peered up at the muffins her father was making.

She seemed to be taking a particular interest in the chocolate mixture. Looking down at her with a soft smile, he asked, “Val, do you want to try it?” He raised the spatula coated with chocolate, placing it into her tiny hands.

She hesitated for a moment. She looked up to him, her large eyes beaming with curiosity before sticking her little tongue out and licking off the chocolate. He watched her with a fond gaze as she grinned at him whilst suckling on the tip of the spatula. He opened his mouth to speak, but was quickly silenced by the sound of keys jingling outside the door. He knew you were back from work, and so did little Valentine. She squealed in excitement and plopped the spatula down onto the counter, jumping off the stool and quickly scampering towards you as you came in. You kneeled down, opening your arms to welcome your daughter in a tight embrace. She ran into your arms, “Mama!”

“Hey, baby!” You greeted her with a gentle smile, slowly rocking her back and forth as she excitedly rambled to you about her day, “Papa's making muffins!”

“Is he?” You inquired softly, smiling at your husband, who stood near whilst wiping his hands with a kitchen cloth.

“Uh-huh! Come eat with us, mama!” The little girl exclaimed cheerfully. She shrieked as her father snuck up behind her, quickly scooping her up into his arms.

“Let's let your mama rest for a bit, yeah? She's tired from work,” He explained to her gently, “Why don't you go play for a bit? I'll call you when the muffins are done.”

Valentine nodded enthusiastically. Seeing her response, he smiled softly and gently set her down. She quickly ran off to play her little games in her bedroom. He watched her lovingly, before turning towards you. He snaked his arms around your waist, planting a soft kiss to your cheek and resting his head upon your shoulder, “How was work, darling?”

“Mm, the usual,” You answered in a quiet voice, running your fingers through the dark strands of his hair.

“The usual?”

“Mhm.”

“The usual is usually not very good, is it, darling?” He lifted his head to look at you, concern evident on his face.

“It's good enough,” You replied in an attempt to downplay your exhaustion.

“Yeah, alright,” He agreed, his tone dripping with sarcasm. He leaned down and lifted you up into his arms, carrying you off towards your shared bedroom.

He wasted no time undressing you and gently lowering you into the bath. The warmth of rose-scented water engulfed your senses, easing your tension of the day. He sat by your side, his sleeves folded up to his elbows whilst he ran a sudsy washcloth along your skin, washing away any dirt and grime that had accumulated throughout the day. You lay in the tub, your eyes fluttering closed as he replaced the cloth with his hands. He placed his hand beneath your chin, tilting your head up to meet his gaze, and leaned in, planting a gentle kiss upon your lips, “I love you, angel.”

You peeled your eyes half-open, a small smile gracing your lips, “I love you, too.”

Without another word, he lifted you out of the bath, wrapping a warmed towel around your body and carrying you out of the bathroom. He ignored the mess of water on the floor. He'd clean it up later. For now, you were his priority.

He slowly placed you down on the bed and quickly left to get you the clothes he had prepared just for you. You watched him fondly as he rushed to return to you and get you dressed. He kissed your forehead, helping you slip on a satin nightrobe, “You'll catch a cold like this. Let me dry your hair.”

You gratefully complied, tilting your head back to grant him access to your hair as he grabbed a brush. Whilst he brushed out and dried your hair, your daughter came bursting into your room, “Mama, papa!”

Levi immediately softened further at her sweet voice, giving your shoulders a gentle squeeze before making his way towards her.

“Do you need anything, sunshine?” He asked softly.

“Can I brush mama's hair?”

He looked at you, awaiting your response. With a warm smile, you nodded, granting your permission to her. Following an excited squeal, she skittered towards you, climbing onto your bed and grabbing the brush. Your husband sauntered over to the two of you and sat alongside you, running his fingers along Valentine's hair.

“I'll go take the muffins out of the oven, alright?” He informed quietly, before standing up and leaving the room. Soon enough, your hair was dry and Levi was calling you down to the table. Both you and your daughter quickly went downstairs, Valentine tugging you along with her all the way. You sat at the table. You had offered to help him plate the muffins, yet he refused, insisting you spend the rest of the night without completing any form of work. He soon joined the two of you, setting the plate of a dozen muffins at the center of the table.

You both smiled at your daughter as she immediately reached over with a chubby hand, grabbing a muffin and taking a bite out of it. She beamed up at him, “They're so good, papa!”

“Yeah?” He murmured with a smile, his cheek resting in the palm of his hand.

She nodded eagerly, taking another big bite. He chuckled and wiped the crumbs away from her lips with his thumb. You watched this scene unfold with an affectionate stare, admiring the sight of your husband while taking care of your daughter. He would always put the two of you at the top of his list of priorities. Forever and always.

1,327 words, 7339 characters

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huboi · 2 days

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♡﹒ꜜe﹒⪩⪨﹒BLUSHING MESS

★ : summary! — guys that blush like crazy when you give them the smallest amounts of affection

★ : contents! — pure heart melting fluff, hand holding, lip kisses, cheek kisses, forehead pecks, hugging, blushing stuttering guys, gn! reader

★ : characters! — (attack on titan) eren jeager, armin artert, jean kristien, bertholdt hoover, reiner braun, levi ackerman, porco galliard (jujutsu kaisen) gojo satoru, geto suguru, choso kamo (genshin impact) diluc ragnivnder, xiao, zhongli, thoma, wanderer, lyney, wriotheslay, nuevillette

WHEN YOU HOLD HIS HAND, his palms get all clammy and he looks everywhere but you, praying to himself that you don’t notice the sweat that covers his hand; spoiler alert, you do! you just choose not to say anything as he’s flustered enough as it is and if you teased him any further he’d probably have a heart attack

WHEN YOU COVER HIS FACE WITH KISSES, his cheeks uncontrollably heat up, a pink hue dusting his cheeks whilst he adorably pouts. you notice his habit of avoiding eye contact when flustered, which you find adorable. no, he doesn’t know you know

WHEN YOU SUDDENLY EMBRACE HIM INTO A WARM, PASSIONATE HUG, he becomes a stuttering mess, asking why you’re doing it, what’s the special occasion etc. what he doesn’t realise is 9/10, there is no reason, you just want to show him how much you love him

WHEN YOU GENTLY PECK HIS FOREHEAD WHILST SNUGGLING ON THE COUCH, he can’t help the blush that spreads like wild fire over his face, he just can’t handle how much you love him, he can’t handle it sometimes as he never knew how someone could love him so much, you’re too precious for him <3

NONE OF THE CHARACTERS FEATURED IN THIS FIC BELONG TO ME!

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heliiacus · 10 hours

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of misery and company

tags: armin x reader, reader is scared to sleep, reader has constant nightmares, reader is implied to have ptsd, hurt/comfort, armin comes to the rescue, comforting armin, pre-relationship but can be interpreted however you wish, hyper-independent reader, reliance avoidance, reader is afraid of sleeping in the dark, cuddling, making tea as a love language

warnings: none, but mind the tags

Amidst a growing struggle to sleep because of incessant nightmares, Armin takes up arms to help you, just for this one night, get some much needed sleep. Consequences come abundant - not disastrous, and not terrible, but consequences nonetheless. Or the one in which you learn that, perhaps, just this once, you can trust someone to help you.

word count: 3.7k

Though you do not notice, your hands shake as you hold the phone. It's a delicate shaking, more a tremble than anything else.

It didn't start out like this. At least, you don't think it did. Early morning, as you woke slowly from your sleep, you'd found your screen lit up with his name, and therein was an odd feeling within you as you picked up without a thought; of something tugging, harshly and painfully, at your heart. The two of you had just talked. School this, plans that. He had a question about your project. That was all it was.

And when you do finally notice, knuckles white as you try to keep your phone steady, you are glad Armin is not here to witness it. You are glad he doesn't know. This is private, after all. You don’t mean to burden him, after all.

But he does, you soon find. You do not know how, but he does.

"Are you okay, Y/N?" You hear him ask through the call, voice firm and unwavering, quiet in its warmth. He does that, though you think he does not notice; his voice grows smooth when he is worried, tone evening into a softer cadence, as if he were approaching some animal, spooked and scared.

You open your mouth. Of course, yes, you are. Of course you are. And those words sit still by the edge of your tongue. Just say it, you tell yourself. They’re just words.

But your hands shake. And you can't wrestle yourself out of this feeling: of dread, of a kneeling, horrible viper in your stomach; and beneath it, writhing quietly, a fear of a wretched sort.

"Not really," you admit then truthfully, and you are almost surprised when you hear just how tired, how defeated you sound. And once those two words are out, you feel it: the ache in your bones, the exhaustion, and the tiny, sad urge to reach outwards, to grasp onto something, anything, and then to keep it close. "I’m really tired," you admit then, clasping the phone in a hard grip. “I haven't been sleeping well this week."

"Nightmares?" Armin asks gently, and you have to close your eyes momentarily, holding back the hot tears that his tone threatens to bring out of you. You hum in response, unable to form words. "How bad?"

"Very," you manage, just barely, and you think you hear it now, in what Armin had heard your misery: not the trembling of your hands, but of your voice. "Sorry," you add quickly, and then, even more shaken: “I woke up recently, so I’m still a mess."

“I understand," he tells you immediately, "I’m sorry, Y/N. How long has it been going on?" And his voice turns gentler, somehow. Quieter. With your exhaustion, it could lull you to sleep – if you'd let it.

"Close to two weeks, I think," you tell him weakly, though it's felt like an eternity.

You hear him sigh, the sound light and sad and trembling in a way that makes your chest ache. “I didn't even notice," he says demurely, quietly, and you try to think of an answer, of words that would flatten the guilt out of his tone, but you lay there silently, unable to think of any. It is then that he speaks again, his words treading even more carefully: "Has anything helped?"

“I don't think so," you answer truthfully, and you wish you had the guts to just lie to him. "I've been, uh.. Well you know. Soothing videos, teas, and the like. I think even talking it out in therapy sort of made it worse." You sigh. “I don't know. I’m sure it will go away. I’m just tired, and, well, uh.." You trail off, feeling like you've said too much already. It makes you grow silent, wishing the words back, knowing he will ask now.

"What is it, honey?" And the words that leave him are so gentle, so careful, you have no choice but to tell him; clutching your phone so hard you are sure your knuckles have grown translucent.

"It's stupid,” you begin, “but I’m starting to get this feeling, like I’m afraid to go to sleep. Each night, I mean. I lie down and there's just this anxiety, and I.." You sigh. "I’m sure it will be fine, eventually."

Another silence passes between the two of you, this one shorter, more poignant; you could tell when Armin wordlessly demanded a moment to think. You are glad to grant it, despite the trembling that is slowly returning to you.

"Earlier, um," he begins, his voice so quiet it feels almost sheepish. Discomforted. Sad, you realise belatedly. "You told me that another person's presence calms down the nightmares. Do you think we should try that? Maybe I can help."

You are quiet, words mulling over and over in your head, and immediately you feel shame. How desperately you want to accept his help; how achingly soothing it is that he even offered. That he remembered.

“I don't want to overstep," he tells you hurriedly, taking your silence for discomfort, and you have to fight, ruefully, to hold your tears back again.

“I don't want to burden you," you admit to him, and then you open your mouth again, your words soon eclipsed by his own quick, helpless admission.

“I don't want to leave you by yourself like this," he tells you openly, worry seeping into each word now, unheld and unabashed. "You're always alone through this, it's not right," he continues, and you feel the edges of the phone dig into your palm. "Let me help you, Y/N. Please."

You don't think. You don't hesitate, or you don't allow yourself to. You just open your mouth, and, finally, you say: "Okay."

You don't miss the look he gives you, stepping over the threshold into your home. Like caught in the headlights, or watching roadkill; or both all at once. It is brief and painful, and then you are in his arms, the embrace so warm and soft it almost lulls you to sleep right then and there.

“I brought snacks," he says into your hair.

“I know."

“I truly don't mean to be a nuisance," you begin come evening, and by way of Armin's shoulders tightening into a thin line, you can tell he had anticipated it. You bar yourself from crying at this. You feel unsteady, weighed by a force you can't seem to shake off your frame, and even now you are unsure if you're saying the right thing. “I just, I feel bad. You.." You trail off, pointedly distracted by the look in his eyes as they rise to meet yours. There is an odd quality to them now, something almost sharp, almost desperate.

You regret having said a thing, and though the feeling is horrid, heavy, and true, it is short-lived; killed off by his hand brushing at your hair, then folding, ever so gently, a strand behind your ear. The strand relents, but only for a moment, falling right back into its place a moment after.

"That's enough, Y/N." he says finitely, a gentleness seeping through him to you. "You're tired. I’m just here to help. Okay?"

It is hard to agree, but you do, swallowing your words; nodding wordlessly. He does not seem convinced by it, but he says nothing; opting, instead, to stand and drag you to the kitchen.

He picks a pink mug for you. He knows where to find chamomile tea, grasping it blindly.

You stand, hips leaning into the counter, and watch as he makes the two of you tea. You wish you could calm yourself; or rid yourself of the need to apologise, at least.

"You're staring," he says, not looking your way as he pours the water.

"I’m fascinated," you quip half-heartedly. "Very poignant tea-making."

"Ha ha," he replies dryly, smiling your way. "Tell me, then. What's so fascinating?"

"You chose my favourite mug," you tell him, finding that the words leave you without your permission.

"Of course."

"And my favourite tea."

"Of course. The only tea you drink, you mean."

“I drink other teas!" You rebut, indignant, though he is, of course, correct.

"Oh yes, the green tea you drink once a year," he laughs, and you laugh with him, though yours is softer; wilted, almost. "Y/N," he begins then, turning to you, tea steaming at his side. “I can tell by your look. If you apologise again, I will whack you with this spoon."

You smile at him, the gesture sheepish. “I can't help it," you tell him earnestly, and laugh again when he raises the spoon.

"How is it," he asks then, putting the threatening spoon back in its place, "that you ask for help so easily when it's something practical? School work, writing, you've had me fix your laptop - hell, your washing machine." He looks at you. "But as soon as it's something like this, something to do with a drop of emotions, it's like you become a different person." He finishes quietly, and you are struck, momentarily, by how sad he sounds as he says it.

You can't help it. Your gaze falls, and your arms wrap around your frame protectively.

"You didn't even ask for help," he continues, quieter, gentler, as if trying not to spook you. “I asked you, no, I put it on you before you could even ask for anything. You didn't make me do anything." He steps closer to you, and you fight the urge to close your eyes just as much as you fight the need for him to close his arms around you. "There is nothing for you to feel so guilty over."

"I’m just scared," you admit to him, blurt it out, really, and then you meet his gaze; you grow speechless then, stunned at the depth of warmth in it. It pulls words out of you. "I’m scared of them. The nightmares. I’m scared of what caused them. I think it just, inadvertently, makes me scared of you, when I’m like this." You close your eyes momentarily, trying to steady your breathing. "This doesn't make sense. Sorry."

"It makes perfect sense," he says firmly, brows furrowed in worry. His gaze digs into you, urging you to continue.

“I just.. I don't know. I do grow into a different person. I get scared and guilty, when I need help. I try to do things my way. Power through. Rationalise. It's not normal for me, for someone to up and say 'I can tell you're suffering, let me come and help you'. It's just not."

Your voice shakes. You can't read the look on his face. In moments, he steps closer, his hand rising and curling around your cheek. His thumb swipes at the skin, wet and warm. How horrible, you think briefly; you didn't even notice you are crying.

"I'll stay and help. Okay?" He murmurs quietly, hand gentle at your cheek.

"Okay," you say, the word shaky and unstable in your throat.

"Can I hug you?" Armin asks you, delicately, almost warily, and you cry then; really, truly cry.

“Please," you say, and before the word is finished, you are burrowed in his chest, your head held tightly in his hand, and here, for just a brief moment, you can let go.

"Try to focus on this," he says quietly, leaning his shoulder into yours, the show blaring softly in the background.

He offered you to talk about your nightmares, just once; he'd tried to talk to you about the reason why. Neither of the conversations worked, and so he'd settled into distracting you. You tried, in turn, to comply, to entertain the distraction, but in the end it is him, and him alone, leaning into you, finding your hand and squeezing it once in every while, looking at you with that expression, that manages to soothe you, each time, without exception.

"How are you feeling?" He asks you, handing you another mug of tea and you soon find that he has managed to make it a perfect, lukewarm temperature.

"Tired," you admit, smiling at him weakly, and you watch as he sits down next to you, your eyes meeting at a level now.

"You could maybe take a nap?" He offers, taking your hand in his. “I know you don't like to nap, but you don't need to entertain me if you're tired. I want you to get some rest."

“I know," you tell him, squeezing his hand, and then you revel in the way he squeezes back.

"Oh, nap time?" He asks gently, smiling at you as you squint at him through your exhaustion, and on your third, heavy blink, you realize that you have nearly dozed off on his shoulder.

“Shut it,” you say, settling into his side, and his laughter lulls you to sleep.

And so it continues, from lunch to dark. He rubs your back occasionally. He chats you up with tiny knick-knacks of a conversation. He watches you almost hawkishly, tentatively offering help or kind little words. Here, in your state, it almost feels like he's cradling you, watching over you in ways no one's been allowed to before. But he is. Of course he is. And he knows it, too; so he takes the opportunity and helps you in every which way he knows how: holding you gently in his hands, ensuring you know you are safe and cared for now; soothing you, over and over, to try and take the horrors off your mind, and to finally tell you: "You will never be alone again."

You do not believe him, of course. Not fully. But there are parts of you that are too tired to fight it, too tired to lean back and reassess and tell yourself that you need to step the hell away. You are tired. Too tired. So instead, unlike you should, you lean into his hold, and you let him ease you, and you repeat those words of his to yourself, again, and again, and again.

By the time the sun has set, you have no more tension in your bones. You laugh; warily, but you do, open-mouthed and loud, and then you turn over and laugh harder as Armin continues with his story. It is all you have in you anymore, save for the buzzing in your muscles and the exhaustion in your chest.

And there's this look he gives you. Wary, and kind, and bright in a way that makes you feel loved. It is only when you sigh heavily, tiredly, that the wariness overtakes it, that he tells you that the two of you should likely head to bed soon.

"We should," you agree, nodding, feeling your hair curl around your temples.

He offers you more tea as you head to get ready, and while you decline, you do not stop yourself from teasing him about it.

"It's the least I can do," he tells you, sheepish and shrugging his shoulders, and he smiles when you laugh.

"Far from the least," you tell him, and you turn for the washroom.

You find your nightlight turned on when you come back into the bedroom, and though you know you shouldn't be, you still find yourself surprised at the sight. Armin would never forget it; you know he would not, even if it was just once, just this one long evening in which you had confided, briefly, that you are afraid of the dark. And yet still, he remembered, and you are happy that he did; you are humbled, perhaps, or touched in a way that makes you feel like bursting into tears right then and there.

"Ready?" He asks, and you feel incredulous, almost uncomfortable as you watch him fluff your pillow. You make an indignant sound at the sight, and he shakes his head at you, laughing and finishing the job. Perhaps it is the oddity of the gesture, or the culmination of all the coddling he's done to you throughout the day, but this, too, has you holding back tears; this, too, has your heart unwinding, falling apart at its seams.

"Thank you," you answer with a finality, standing stock still at the foot of the bed, and he looks at you, just briefly; his eyes flit away from you, but then he looks at you again - longer this time, lingering and watching you with that sad look in his eyes.

You know he means to say something, something long and winded and perhaps morose, but instead you watch as he swallows it, and then you watch as he smiles at you, patting his hand at your side of the bed. "Hop on in, Y/N. It's time to sleep," he tells you, and you do.

And you laugh ardently then, his own laughter following suit, as his hands tug expertly at your blanket to tuck you in; you'd expected it, by this point, but it still amuses you. And he just smiles at you.

When he is done, he stays there, close to you, inches away from you; in case you need him - you know that now.

"Are you comfortable?" He finally asks you, and it feels lighter than you think he intended it to be, and in turn you smile at him, weak and earnest, your hand curling next to his.

"Snug as a bug in a rug," you reply, and you feel a finger of his curl around a finger of yours.

"One hell of a rug," he replies, grin lopsided, and, watching it, you try not to think of the nightmares, of the fears, of the trauma; you take his hand in yours, and a moment after you let it go, pulling yourself closer to him. His arms encircle your frame in mere moments, the hold taut and careful, and then you can feel him breathe into your hair.

"Don't be afraid," he whispers to you, his hands at your back, pulling you closer still, and there is a brief moment in which you fervently wish you could bottle this feeling; if not for safekeeping if not for hoarding, then for it to stand guard upon your windowsill, keeping you safe from the nightmares forevermore. "I’m right here," he continues, and you feel just how warm he is against you. "Nothing will hurt you. You'll just sleep. It's okay."

You didn't have to ask him to soothe you; you didn't have to ask him for anything at all. Inexplicably, he knew, just like he knew all of you; just like you, perhaps, knew all of him. You find your hands in his shirt, and you can smell him again, this up-close; a sweet vanilla, so gentle it soothes you, so gentle it makes your last wall crumble.

"Tell me you'll keep me safe," you plead with him, words so quiet you'd be surprised he heard them at all. And he does. You know he does, even when your hands go slack, even when your mind goes blank; you know the words echo in your room, even if you do not hear them.

When you wake, it is quiet, and yet you know that Armin is awake. By his heart, you think; a delicate staccato that repeats over and over in your ear, so clear you can hear the echo of it, reverberating in his chest.

You find his hand in your hair, then, as your breathing deepens. He caresses it; gently. Slowly. "Sleep some more," he whispers to you, and you close your eyes, and then you do.

When you wake a second time, you almost expect to be alone, and yet you find yourself in his arms still; his heart the same, singing rhythm. A sound escapes you, a groan as you crawl from the depths of sleep, and you hear him chuckle in response.

"Morning," you say tiredly, rubbing your face into his shirt.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," he tells you jovially, then, more quietly, more gently, he asks: "How did you sleep?"

"Good," you say with a longing sigh; then: "Great," you add, and then you look at him, your sight hazy, and even then you can see his expression soften, brighten. You smile at him, and he smiles back. "No nightmares. No dreams."

"Told you," he grins again, and you grin back.

The third time you wake, you find yourself disoriented, clutching tightly at your teddy bear. Armin's hand is on your shoulder, careful and gentle, and you can hear his voice.

You groan again, trying to shake off the sleepiness, and then you feel the weight of the bed shift, and Armin's sat next to you.

“I fell asleep again," you say, yawning. You wake quicker now, looking at Armin, and there is this easy, endearing smile on him, one so warm it makes your heart skip a beat. "Sorry. I was still so tired," you admit to him, and you close your eyes briefly, just briefly, when you feel his hand curl into your hair.

"It's alright," he tells you softly, caressing your hair so gently that it almost hurts. "Rest as much as you need, Y/N."

You try to find the words, but instead you simply hum in response; and him you find quiet, sitting by your side. Still he strokes your hair, so softly that it soothes you, all of you, from bone to sinew. And it is so warm. So incredibly intimate. You think you should be discomforted by it, but you are so tired, you are so sore from the pain your mind has wrought upon you, that you simply allow it. You let it soothe you, you let it keep you calm and warm and loved, if only just for this exact, precise moment.

“I can stay tonight, too. If you'll need me," you hear him say quietly, his voice warm in your chest, his hand careful in your hair, and then it strikes you: how close he is to you. Not just here, right now, sat at your side, but in ways that you have never considered before, never allowed before, save for the long, harrowing, and failed first attempts at this exact thing, so many years ago.

You would have said no. You would have said he's done enough. But things have shifted now, have they not? Uncontrollably so. And there is not much to do about it now, and were you in different hands, you would have, perhaps, been afraid. But you're not.

And so you wordlessly pull your bear towards you, flush and tight against your chest. You nod, ever so slightly, into his hand. And you tell him: "Okay."

dividers by saradika and benkeibear

tag list: @arlerts-angel @levistealeaf @sukunascrustyfinger

@chiinni @nilaaaas @ryoiii

@dilfkentolover @arminarlertssword @bel-https

@layla240 @katestrophes @rrsltt

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@strscollide @girlybelle @blvewave

@inbry @jojosbizzarewife @drinklavalamps

@minminlert

reblogs are dearly appreciated, darlings 💗

a/n: this one was among the older fics i'd roughly edited here and there, so please forgive the rougher style of writing ! likewise, a sister fic to this will be released, eventually, in which reader takes care of armin instead (and tea stays as a love language)

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