🪼
Origami Around
will byers stan first human second
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
blake kathryn
Product Placement
shark vs the universe
No title available
Love Begins
#extradirty
if i look back, i am lost
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
ojovivo
RMH
Aqua Utopia｜海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
noise dept.
macklin celebrini has autism
official daine visual archive
Cosimo Galluzzi
art blog(derogatory)
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from Malaysia
seen from Türkiye
seen from United States
seen from Bangladesh
seen from Indonesia
seen from Germany
seen from Australia
seen from United States
seen from Ecuador
seen from Georgia
seen from Argentina
seen from Malaysia
seen from Italy
seen from Netherlands
seen from Argentina
@ra4bies
▬▬ι═══════ﺤ About me
⚔︎ pronouns are She/her
⚔︎ I am an adult
▬▬ι═══════ﺤ My Fandoms
⚔︎ My Hero
⚔︎ Attack on Titan
⚔︎ solo leveling
⚔︎ JJK
▬▬ι═══════ﺤ Rules
⚔︎ Requests are open
⚔︎ be patient while waiting for your request too be posted
⚔︎ I am uncomfortable writing anything too intense (angst is ok but nothing to freaky)
𝕃𝕆𝕍𝔼 𝕀𝕊𝕃𝔸ℕ𝔻 ~ 𝕁𝕁𝕂 𝔸𝕌
PART 1 - A Hot New Bombshell Has Entered The Villa
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ♡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ♡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ♡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.
AN! - before we start, here are the couples on the island!
Yuji ~ Nobara, Megumi ~ yuki, Gojo ~ Utahime, Choso ~ maki, Geto ~ Shoko
Reader is coming in as a hot new bombshell! enjoy!! let me know if this is a series that would be worth continuing! As of right now this is just a a snippet to see if its worth continuing. Also let me know if you readers would like to do some interactive "voting"!
"Previously... the Islanders got to know each other, couples began to settle, and everyone started to think they knew where they stood..."
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ♡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ♡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ♡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.
"I've got a text!" Yuji shouted.
Everyone gathered around him.
He read aloud.
"Islanders! It's time to put your knowledge of each other to the test. Please get ready for today's challenge. #WhoKnowsWho #GameOn"
"Oh, finally!" Yuki grinned.
"I love the challenges."
Gojo stretched dramatically.
"I'm going to win."
"You don't even know the rules," Utahime replied.
"I don't need to."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Islanders stood around the challenge area wearing matching swimwear. A giant game board stood behind them covered with blank answer cards. The challenge was simple.
Questions about the Islanders would appear on the screen. They had to guess who each fact belonged to. Wrong answers meant getting drenched by buckets of brightly colored slime.
Needless to say...
Gojo had already been slimed twice.
"I refuse to believe Yuji's favorite movie is that."
"It is," Yuji laughed.
"I've watched it seven times."
"That's tragic."
Everyone was laughing when the familiar notification echoed around the garden.
!DING!
The Islanders froze.
Nobara frowned.
"Why are we getting a text during a challenge?"
Yuji picked up the phone sitting on the podium.
"...Uh."
His eyes widened.
"What?"
"What does it say?"
Yuji looked up.
"Islanders...
One more player is joining today's challenge. Please welcome your newest Bombshell. #ExpectTheUnexpected"
Before anyone could guess what that meant...
The villa doors slowly opened.
Every Islander turned around.
You stepped into the garden with an easy smile, dressed in the same neon challenge colors as everyone else.
You looked completely unfazed by the dozen pairs of eyes now staring at you.
The boys were the first to react.
"...Wow," Yuji whispered.
Gojo slowly lowered his sunglasses.
"Well..."
"This just got interesting."
Megumi quietly watched you approach, his expression unreadable.
Choso smiled politely.
Geto folded his arms with a small smile.
The girls exchanged quick glances.
Nobara leaned toward Maki.
"She's gorgeous."
"I noticed."
You stopped beside the host.
"Hi, everyone."
A chorus of greetings followed.
"I'm Y/N. And I'm excited to see what all the hype about this villa is. Cant say i'm disappointed so far. nice to meet you all"
A few people laughed. The host smiled.
"Islanders... This is Y/N. And she isn't just here to watch."
Immediately, everyone's attention sharpened.
The host continued.
"In fact... Today's challenge now has a prize."
Gojo sat up straighter.
"I knew there had to be a prize."
The host grinned.
"The Islander with the most points at the end of today's challenge will win something no one else gets..."
A dramatic pause.
"...The winner will have the choice of going on an exclusive date with Y/N tonight..."
The Islanders looked toward you.
"...or..they can choose to stay loyal to their current partner and decline the date."
"Oh my God," Nobara laughed That's evil."
Yuki covered her mouth, smiling.
"I actually love that."
Utahime slowly turned toward Gojo.
"Don't even think about it."
"I haven't said anything."
"You don't have to."
Shoko smirked.
"Now this is a proper twist."
The challenge suddenly became much more competitive for the boys.
Every correct answer mattered.
The final question appeared on the screen.
Which Islander said their biggest relationship red flag is poor communication?
Buzzers slammed.
"Maki!" Megumi answered.
The screen flashed green.
Correct.
The final scores appeared.
Megumi with 8 points - Gojo with 7 - Yuji with 5
Gojo dramatically dropped to his knees "I lost by one point?
Yuki nudged Megumi with a grin."Not bad."
Megumi scratched the back of his neck. "...Guess I got lucky."
The host smiled.
"Congratulations, Megumi. You now have a decision to make."
The entire villa went quiet.
"You can either stay in your couple with Yuki and decline the date..or choose to go on a date with Y/N tonight."
You stood quietly across from him, waiting.
Megumi looked between you and Yuki.
The silence stretched for several long seconds.
"...I think..."
He took a slow breath.
"...I'd regret not getting to know someone new."
The villa erupted.
Nobara gasped.
"Oh my God!"
Gojo laughed so hard he nearly fell over.
"I knew it!"
Yuki's face fell for a moment she recovered mostly , but there was the slightest raise of an eyebrow that gave away her annoyance.
Megumi looked at her. "I'm sorry."
She gave a small nod.
"It's Love Island."
No anger. just a soft shrug of quiet disappointment and the understanding that everyone had come there to explore connections.
The host smiled.
"Y/N and Megumi, enjoy your date tonight."
As the Islanders headed back toward the villa, everyone was talking at once.
I smiled and waved "see you there megumi"
megumi fushiguro // fic recommendations
note: remember to read the tags! + i do not own any of these works
once bitten, twice shy
lost and found
your type?
dark red
pick you up, keep you close
i really (x6) like you
bunny kisses
the flower and the bee
(divine) dog cuddles
off limits
cockblocked by the squad
lover boy.
staring problem
pomegranate problem
conveniently yours
better late than never
you're the only one that's holding me down
takes one to know one
it's fenty
whatever this is
the birthday boy
with you, my fears disappear
hands
diamonds on the skyline
just feel it
laser focus
all my ghosts
making the last sacrifice
see you around
ducky slippers
therefore, i am
boutta make a megumi fic just to be added to this list fr ✊🏼
I miss my husband Levi Ackerman.
don't worry girl it's totally okay to just lay on your bed all day scrolling through tumblr for smuts of fictional men
┊ ┊ ┊ ♡ ┊ AOT - ! Teachers Pet - university AU
┊ ┊ ┊ ˚ ♡
┊ ┊ ♡ ⋆ +
♡ ⋆ ┊ .
+ ♡
જ⁀➴ ♡ Levi Ackerman
Levi Ackerman did not have favorites.
That was what everyone believed.
He was precise. Cold. Brutally fair. The kind of instructor who corrected mistakes without raising his voice because he didn’t need to.
Which was why the whispers started.
Because he looked at you differently.
Not softer.
Not kinder.
Just longer.
“You’re such a teacher’s pet.” “He never calls on anyone else like that.” “You stay after every class.”
You ignored it.
Because the truth was worse than favoritism.
Levi wasn’t easier on you.
He was harder.
“Stay after.”
The words were neutral.
But the class went silent anyway.
You kept your face composed. “Yes, sir.”
You always said yes.
Chairs scraped. Eyes lingered. The door shut.
Click.
The air shifted instantly.
Levi didn’t look at you right away. He stacked papers with precise movements, sleeves rolled up, jaw tight.
“You’re distracted,” he said.
“I scored highest.”
“That’s not what I’m referring to.”
His gaze lifted.
Locked on you.
You felt it everywhere.
“The rumors don’t bother me,” you said quietly.
“They bother me.”
That was new.
You blinked.
He stepped closer.
“Because they’re not wrong,” he continued.
Your pulse stuttered.
“I do favor you.”
The confession hung heavy in the empty classroom.
Your breath caught. “You said you didn’t.”
“I said I don’t show it.”
Another step.
You didn’t move back.
“And that’s becoming difficult.”
His hand lifted, hovering near your waist.
Not touching.
Testing.
“You don’t flinch,” he said softly. “You don’t fawn. You don’t crumble under pressure.”
His knuckles brushed your side.
Light.
Intentional.
“And you look at me like you want me to lose control.”
Your composure wavered.
Just a fraction.
He saw it.
Gray eyes darkened.
“There it is.”
His hand settled fully at your waist now.
Warm. Firm. Possessive without being forceful.
“You’re my best student,” he said quietly. “My responsibility.”
Your fingers twitched at your sides.
“And if I blur that line,” he continued, voice lower now, “I risk everything.”
“Then don’t blur it,” you whispered.
A challenge.
His jaw tightened.
He stepped back abruptly.
“You’re dismissed.”
The next three days were torture.
He didn’t call on you.
Didn’t linger.
Didn’t ask you to stay.
He treated you like everyone else.
Worse.
Like you were invisible.
And that hurt more than any rumor ever had.
Because now you knew the tension wasn’t imagined.
It was restrained.
And he was choosing to bury it.
On the fourth day, you didn’t wait for him to ask.
You stayed.
The classroom emptied.
He noticed.
Of course he did.
“Are you going to keep avoiding me?” you asked once the door closed.
“I’m not avoiding you.”
“You haven’t looked at me all week.”
“I look at you when necessary.”
You stepped closer.
“Necessary,” you repeated softly.
He turned.
The control in his expression was thin now. Stretched tight.
“You’re testing me,” he said.
“Maybe.”
Silence.
“You looked disappointed,” he added quietly, “when I stopped asking you to stay.”
Your breath caught.
“You noticed.”
“I notice everything about you.”
The admission felt dangerous.
You stepped closer.
“So stop pretending.”
That was it.
The breaking point.
He closed the distance in one swift movement.
Your back met the edge of a desk. Not harsh but deliberate.
His hands braced on either side of you, caging you in.
“You want me to stop pretending?” he murmured.
“Yes.”
His hand slid to your waist again firmer this time.
“You think I don’t know exactly what you’re doing? Standing there, composed. Acting unaffected.”
His thumb pressed into your hip.
“You look at me like you want me to lose control.”
Your fingers curled into his shirt.
“You haven’t.”
That snapped something.
His mouth claimed yours in a kiss that felt like weeks of restraint detonating at once.
Not gentle.
Not hesitant.
Hungry.
His hand tightened at your waist, pulling you flush against him. The other slid up your back, fingers splaying like he needed to anchor himself.
You kissed him back.
Because you’d been waiting too.
He broke away first, breath rougher now, forehead resting against yours.
“This is why I avoided you,” he muttered.
“Then stop.”
“You’re my student.”
“Not forever.”
Silence.
Heavy.
His grip flexed.
“You have no idea what you do to me.”
“Then tell me.”
His jaw tightened. Then, quietly
“I want you.”
The words were low. Honest. Unfiltered.
Your heart slammed against your ribs.
He kissed you again slower this time. Deeper. Less explosive and more deliberate. Like he was memorizing the feeling.
But then A noise in the hallway.
Footsteps.
Voices.
He pulled away instantly.
Composure snapping back into place.
“Stand straight,” he ordered under his breath.
You did.
He stepped away just as the door handle rattled.
Locked.
Someone laughed outside. Whispered.
“They’re still in there.”
Your stomach dropped.
Levi’s eyes flicked to you.
Calm.
Strategic.
He grabbed a stack of papers and opened the door himself.
Two students stood there, startled.
“Is there a problem?” he asked coolly.
“N-No, sir.”
“Then leave.”
They scattered.
He closed the door again slower this time.
But didn’t look at you immediately.
“They’re watching,” he said quietly.
“I don’t care.”
“I do.”
You stepped closer anyway.
“How long are we supposed to pretend?”
His gaze lifted to yours again.
Sharp.
Burning.
“Until you graduate.”
Your breath hitched.
“And after?”
He stepped forward once more not as explosive now, but no less intense.
“After,” he murmured, fingers brushing your jaw, “there will be no lines to cross.”
His thumb tilted your chin up.
“No rumors to manage.”
His lips hovered just over yours.
“No restraint.”
Your pulse thundered.
“And until then?” you whispered.
His mouth brushed yours barely.
A promise instead of a kiss.
“Until then,” he said quietly, “you stop staying late unless I ask.”
“And if you don’t ask?”
A faint, dangerous smirk touched his lips.
“I will.”
જ⁀➴ ♡ Eren Yeager
Eren hated the term teacher’s pet.
Mostly because it implied you were obedient.
And you weren’t.
You argued with him.
Corrected him mid lecture. Challenged his theories. Held eye contact a second too long when the class went silent.
If anything, you were the only student who didn’t treat him like an authority figure.
Which was exactly why he kept calling on you.
“Wrong,” he said sharply one afternoon.
You didn’t back down. “It’s not wrong. You’re oversimplifying the model.”
The class collectively inhaled.
Eren stared at you from the front of the room.
“You think so?”
“Yes.”
He walked toward your desk slowly.
Not to intimidate.
To engage.
“You want to explain it?”
You stood up without hesitation.
The tension shifted instantly.
Everyone watched the two of you like it was a match about to start.
You stepped closer to the board, pointing to the diagram.
He stood behind you.
Too close.
“You’re ignoring this variable,” you said calmly.
His voice came from just over your shoulder.
“I’m not ignoring it.”
“You are.”
A beat.
“And you don’t like being wrong.”
A few students snickered nervously.
Eren’s jaw tightened.
“Stay after.”
The whispers started immediately.
“Definitely his favorite.” “She basically runs the class.” “He lets her talk to him however she wants.”
But when the door closed?
The atmosphere changed entirely.
He didn’t look amused anymore.
He looked wound tight.
“You enjoy that,” he said.
“Enjoy what?”
“Challenging me in front of everyone.”
You crossed your arms. “You’re the one who engages.”
“That’s different.”
“How?”
He stepped forward.
“Because when you do it, I forget I’m supposed to keep distance.”
Your stomach flipped.
That wasn’t what you expected.
“You’re the teacher,” you said carefully.
“And you’re not afraid of me.”
“That’s not a crime.”
“It is when it makes me want to...”
He cut himself off sharply.
You tilted your head. “Want to what?”
Silence.
His hands flexed at his sides.
“You push me,” he muttered.
“You like it.”
That hit.
His eyes flashed.
“You think I like being tested?”
“I think you like that I don’t treat you like everyone else does.”
Another step closer.
“You don’t look at me like I’m in charge.”
You swallowed. “Maybe I don’t care that you are.”
That was reckless.
You knew it the second it left your mouth.
His hand shot out gripping the edge of the desk beside you, trapping you between him and the wood.
“You should care,” he said quietly.
“Why?”
“Because I’m trying not to cross a line.”
Your heart was racing now.
“And if I don’t want you to?”
That was the spark.
He kissed you not out of slow temptation.
Out of frustration.
Like he’d been fighting himself for weeks and you just handed him permission.
It wasn’t polished.
It wasn’t careful.
It was real.
His hand slid to your waist instinctively, pulling you closer. You responded just as fiercely, fingers gripping his shirt like you’d been waiting for him to finally stop pretending.
He pulled back abruptly, breathing uneven.
“This is exactly what I was trying to avoid,” he muttered.
“Then why did you tell me to stay?” you challenged.
“Because you’re the only one I trust,” he shot back. “The only one who actually sees me, not just the position.”
That softened something.
You didn’t answer immediately.
His hand was still at your waist.
Still warm.
Still claiming.
“They think I give you special treatment,” he continued more quietly. “But the truth is… I hold you to a higher standard than anyone.”
“I know.”
“You make me better.”
The confession landed heavier than the kiss.
“You make me want to be better,” he corrected.
You searched his face.
“And this?” you asked softly.
He exhaled slowly.
“This is a mistake.”
“But you don’t regret it.”
His thumb brushed lightly along your side.
“No.”
Footsteps echoed in the hallway.
Reality.
He stepped back immediately, running a hand through his hair in frustration.
“We can’t keep doing this after class,” he said.
“Then stop asking me to stay.”
Silence.
His eyes locked onto yours.
“You know I won’t.”
A small smile tugged at your lips.
“That’s not very professional.”
“I don’t care about professional,” he said bluntly. “I care about not ruining your reputation.”
That caught you off guard.
He stepped closer again slower this time.
“If we cross that line,” he said quietly, “I want it to be because you chose me. Not because I had authority over you.”
Your chest tightened.
“And if I already chose?”
His breath faltered.
The next class, he argued with you again.
Called you out. Challenged your answers. Pushed you harder than anyone.
But when your eyes met across the room
There was no mistaking it.
You weren’t his teacher’s pet.
You were his equal.
And that was far more dangerous.
જ⁀➴ ♡ armin arlert
Armin didn’t intimidate his students.
He didn’t bark orders. He didn’t glare.
He captivated.
The room always went quiet when he spoke not out of fear, but because everyone wanted to listen.
Especially you.
And he noticed.
He noticed the way you leaned forward during lectures. The way you stayed after to debate theories. The way you challenged him gently, thoughtfully.
He noticed everything.
Which is why the whispers started.
“She’s definitely his favorite.” “He only smiles like that when she answers.” “He keeps her after class all the time.”
They weren’t wrong.
But they misunderstood.
Armin didn’t favor you because you were obedient.
He favored you because you understood him.
“Stay after?”
He said it gently one afternoon, almost like a question.
You nodded. “Of course.”
The classroom emptied slowly.
Too slowly.
Eyes lingered.
The door shut.
Silence settled.
Armin exhaled softly and leaned against the edge of his desk.
“You know they’re talking,” he said.
“I figured.”
“And it doesn’t bother you?”
You hesitated.
“It bothers me that it might affect you.”
That caught him off guard.
“You’re worried about my reputation?” he asked quietly.
“Of course I am.”
His expression softened.
“You shouldn’t have to.”
He stepped closer not imposing, just closing the space naturally.
“You’re brilliant,” he said gently. “That’s why I ask you to stay. Not because of favoritism.”
“I know.”
“But they don’t.”
You met his eyes.
Blue.
Thoughtful.
Dangerous in a different way.
“Does it make you want to stop asking me?” you asked softly.
Silence.
His throat moved as he swallowed.
“Yes.”
Your chest tightened.
“But I don’t want to.”
The confession felt heavier than it should have.
“Why?” you whispered.
He hesitated.
Then answered honestly.
“Because when everyone else leaves,” he said, voice quieter now, “I don’t feel like I’m lecturing.”
Your pulse picked up.
“I feel like I’m… understood.”
The air changed.
This wasn’t about grades anymore.
Or favoritism.
It was about connection.
You stepped closer.
Not boldly.
Just enough.
“And what if that’s dangerous?” you asked.
“It is.”
“Then why risk it?”
He looked at you like you’d asked something deeper than you realized.
“Because I trust you,” he said simply.
Your heart stuttered.
His hand lifted slightly hesitated then brushed a strand of hair away from your face.
It was the smallest touch.
But it felt louder than anything.
“We shouldn’t,” he murmured.
“You’re the one who asked me to stay.”
A faint smile curved at his lips.
“That’s true.”
His hand lingered near your cheek longer than necessary.
“You make it very difficult to maintain distance.”
“You’re very good at maintaining distance,” you replied softly.
“That doesn’t mean it’s easy.”
Your breath faltered slightly.
“Do you want distance?” you asked.
Silence.
Long.
Honest.
“No.”
The word barely rose above a whisper.
Your hand moved before you overthought it resting lightly against his chest.
Not demanding.
Not urgent.
Just there.
His breath hitched.
“You’re my student,” he reminded quietly.
“Not forever.”
That flicker of something passed through his eyes.
Hope.
Fear.
Want.
“I don’t want anyone thinking your success comes from me,” he said. “You’ve earned everything.”
“I know.”
“And if this becomes something,” he continued carefully, “I want it to be when there’s no question of fairness.”
Your thumb brushed slightly against the fabric of his shirt.
“And until then?”
His hand gently covered yours over his chest.
“Until then,” he said softly, “we pretend we don’t look for each other in every room.”
Your breath caught.
“And if I don’t want to pretend?”
His composure wavered just slightly.
“You’re very dangerous,” he murmured.
You tilted your head. “Why?”
“Because you’re patient.”
That made you smile.
“And you’re not?”
He let out a soft, almost nervous laugh.
“Not when it comes to you.”
The admission hung between you.
He leaned in slowly.
Not rushed.
Not desperate.
Giving you every opportunity to step back.
You didn’t.
His lips brushed yours gentle at first, tentative, like he was still asking permission.
When you kissed him back, the hesitation melted.
The kiss deepened slightly still soft, still careful but filled with weeks of unspoken tension.
When he pulled away, his forehead rested lightly against yours.
“This has to be the only time,” he whispered.
“You don’t mean that.”
“No,” he admitted.
“But I have to try.”
Footsteps echoed faintly in the hallway.
Reality creeping back in.
He stepped away reluctantly, adjusting his sleeves.
“Graduate,” he said quietly.
“And after?”
His eyes met yours again.
“After,” he said, voice steadier now but undeniably warm, “I won’t ask you to stay.”
A small smile.
“I’ll ask you out.”
Your heart fluttered.
“And until then?”
He glanced toward the door, then back at you.
“Until then,” he murmured softly, “try not to look at me like that in class.”
You smiled knowingly.
“No promises.”
He laughed quietly breathless, fond, already lost.
જ⁀➴ ♡ Erwin Smith
Professor Erwin Smith built his career on perception.
He knew how he was seen.
Respected. Strategic. Untouchable.
Which is why he was careful.
Especially with you.
You weren’t just one of his students.
You were the sharpest mind in the room.
The only one who didn’t flinch under his stare. The only one who challenged him without ego. The only one who didn’t try to impress him.
And that made you dangerous.
“You’re staying.”
It wasn’t a question.
The class exchanged looks.
Of course you were staying.
You gathered your things calmly, ignoring the whispers.
When the door closed, silence settled like a weight.
Erwin remained at the front of the room, hands clasped behind his back.
“You contradicted me again.”
“I was correct.”
“Yes.”
That surprised you.
He stepped down from the platform slowly.
“You were.”
A pause.
“And you knew it.”
“I don’t argue unless I’m certain.”
“I know.”
The way he said it felt layered.
“You’ve grown confident,” he continued. “Confident enough to challenge authority.”
“Is that a flaw?”
His gaze sharpened.
“No.”
He stopped in front of you close enough to command the space, not close enough to touch.
“It’s exactly what I hoped you would become.”
Your pulse quickened.
“You hoped?”
“I do not invest time into students who plateau.”
There it was again.
Investment.
You studied him carefully.
“And what am I to you?” you asked quietly.
Silence stretched.
He didn’t answer immediately.
Because Erwin never spoke without deciding the outcome first.
“You are potential,” he said finally. “Extraordinary potential.”
“And nothing else?”
That question lingered longer than it should have.
His jaw tightened almost imperceptibly.
“You are my student.”
“That wasn’t what I asked.”
That was bold.
Maybe too bold.
But you didn’t look away.
And that’s what made him step closer.
Not impulsively.
Deliberately.
“You are,” he said quietly, “the one person in this room who makes me consider my own limitations.”
Your breath caught.
“That is not a comfortable position for me.”
“You don’t like being challenged?”
“I dislike unpredictability.”
“And I’m unpredictable?”
“Yes.”
A beat.
“And you enjoy it.”
That flicker passed through his eyes again.
That spark he tried so hard to bury.
“Enjoyment is irrelevant.”
“Is it?”
Silence.
The air thickened.
This wasn’t about grades anymore.
It wasn’t about mentorship.
It was about something neither of you wanted to name.
“You’ve noticed the rumors,” he said finally.
“Yes.”
“They assume I favor you.”
“You don’t?”
His expression didn’t change.
“I hold you to a higher standard than anyone else.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
“No,” he agreed quietly. “It isn’t.”
The honesty shifted something.
You stepped closer.
Not submissively.
Not timidly.
Equal.
“And if I said I didn’t mind the rumors?”
“You should.”
“Why?”
“Because perception can dismantle careers.”
“And what about you?”
His eyes held yours.
“I am accustomed to risk.”
Your pulse jumped.
“But I will not allow you to bear consequences for something you did not initiate.”
Something tightened in your chest.
“And if I did initiate it?”
That question broke the rhythm.
For the first time, he hesitated.
“You would be reckless,” he said quietly.
“Or honest.”
The silence between you turned electric.
You were closer now.
Close enough to feel the warmth from him.
But he still hadn’t touched you.
That restraint was louder than any kiss.
“You are ambitious,” he said. “You want influence. Control.”
“Yes.”
“And aligning yourself with me could compromise that.”
“Or strengthen it.”
A slow exhale left him.
“You see everything as strategy.”
“So do you.”
That almost made him smile.
Almost.
“You are not a weakness,” he said carefully.
“But?”
“But I cannot afford one.”
The words should have ended it.
They didn’t.
Because neither of you stepped back.
“You think wanting me makes you weaker?” you asked softly.
His gaze darkened.
“No.”
“Then what does it make you?”
Silence.
Long.
Measured.
Honest.
“It makes me human.”
That was the crack.
The smallest fracture in his armor.
Your hand lifted slowly giving him time to stop you.
He didn’t.
Your fingers brushed lightly against his sleeve.
Barely there.
But it changed everything.
His composure thinned.
“You are testing my discipline,” he murmured.
“Is it failing?”
He looked at your hand.
Then at you.
“Yes.”
The confession was quiet.
Controlled.
And far more intense because of it.
He stepped closer finally closing the last inch of space.
Not caging you.
Not trapping you.
Just there.
“If I cross this line,” he said, voice low, “it will not be impulsive.”
“I don’t want impulsive.”
“You want certainty.”
“Yes.”
His hand finally rose resting at your waist.
Steady.
Grounded.
No hesitation now.
“If this becomes something,” he said, “it will be because we choose it. Not because of proximity. Not because of power.”
Your heart pounded.
“And if I’ve already chosen?”
That was when he kissed you.
Slow.
Measured.
Not devouring.
Not desperate.
But unmistakably intentional.
It felt like a decision.
When he pulled back, his thumb remained lightly at your waist.
“We proceed carefully,” he said.
“That sounds like a warning.”
“It is a promise.”
Footsteps echoed faintly down the hallway.
He stepped back first.
Always first.
Composure returning like armor sliding back into place.
“You will graduate at the top,” he said evenly.
“You will not allow anyone to question your merit.”
“And after?”
His eyes locked onto yours again.
“After,” he said calmly, “there will be no professional boundary to consider.”
Your pulse skipped.
“And until then?”
A faint, restrained smile.
“Until then,” he replied, “we are strategic.”
The tension didn’t disappear.
It sharpened.
Because with Erwin
Desire wasn’t chaos.
Hi! I just wanted to request a levixreader fanfic where hange tells the reader that she should start dating someone or she's gonna get old and reader was like why will i am married and hange was shocked and she was like what? and reader was like didn't i tell you that i was married-both levi and reader were pretty reserved people , and than hange was like who are you even married to? and the reader was like levi didn't i tell you that the reader had a pretty normal reaction and hen hange pulls moblit(i ship both of them so bad i kind think they are canon) in and was like do you know she was married and he was shocked too.you can add any extra scenes.and like can we make the reader a little bit higher rank than a cadet as cadets are barely young adult. Thank you so mcuh! btw i love your writinng.
┊ ┊ ┊ ♡ ┊ AOT - ! "your married?!" Levi x reader
┊ ┊ ┊ ˚ ♡
┊ ┊ ♡ ⋆ +
♡ ⋆ ┊ .
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જ⁀➴ ♡ Levi Ackerman
You were cornered.
That was the only explanation.
You had been peacefully organizing supply reports in one of the quieter side rooms of headquarters when Hange slid into the chair across from you with the kind of grin that meant trouble.
“You know what I’ve noticed?” Hange said, chin resting on their hands.
You didn’t look up from the parchment. “That’s rarely good.”
“You don’t date.”
Your pen paused.
“I don’t… what?”
“Date. Flirt. Pine dramatically. Nothing. You’re wasting your prime years, Y/N.”
You resumed writing. “I’m a Scout.”
“That’s not an excuse. Even soldiers fall in love. Actually, statistically speaking, near-death experiences increase bonding”
“Hange.”
“You should start dating.”
You sighed softly. “I’m not interested.”
“In people?” Hange pressed.
“In this conversation.”
Hange leaned forward dramatically.
“You’re respected. Attractive. Slightly terrifying. That’s a marketable combination.”
You finally looked up at them, unimpressed.
“…Marketable.”
“Yes! Imagine it. A strong, composed squad leader sweeping someone off their feet. Or being swept off yours.”
“That’s unlikely.”
“Why?”
You answered simply.
“I’m married.”
The room went quiet.
Hange blinked.
“…You’re what.”
“Married.”
Hange stared at you for a full five seconds.
Then burst out laughing.
“No you’re not.”
“Yes.”
“You’re joking.”
“I’m not.”
“Since when?”
“Three years ago.”
Hange’s smile slowly faded.
“Three years,” they repeated slowly. “You’ve been married for three years.”
“Yes.”
“And you never mentioned it.”
“It didn’t come up.”
Hange squinted at you suspiciously.
“…To who.”
You hesitated just slightly.
Because you knew exactly what was about to happen.
And right on cue The door opened.
Footsteps. Measured. Controlled.
Levi Ackerman stepped into the room.
He stopped when he saw Hange sitting far too close to you.
“…What are you doing,” he asked flatly.
Hange turned slowly.
“Perfect timing.”
Levi’s eyes shifted to you.
You looked calm.
Too calm.
Hange stood up dramatically.
“I was just telling Y/N she needs to start dating.”
There was a pause.
A very quiet pause.
Levi’s expression didn’t change.
But the air did.
“…Dating,” he repeated.
“Yes,” Hange continued brightly. “She’s going to grow old alone at this rate”
“She’s not,” Levi said.
Hange blinked.
“Oh? And how would you know?”
Levi stepped fully into the room.
Closed the door behind him.
Slowly.
“She doesn’t need to date,” he said calmly.
“Why not?” Hange challenged.
Levi’s eyes moved to you.
You held his gaze.
Steady.
Unbothered.
“…Because she’s married,” he said.
Hange turned back to you.
Then back to him.
Then back to you.
“…Excuse me?”
You exhaled softly.
“Yes.”
Hange pointed between you.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Don’t tell me”
“She’s my wife,” Levi said.
Silence slammed into the room.
Hange stared at him.
Then at you.
Then back at him.
“…Since when.”
“Three years.”
“THREE YEARS?!”
Levi’s jaw tightened slightly. “Lower your voice.”
“You’re married? To EACH OTHER?!”
“Yes,” you said calmly.
Hange looked betrayed on a molecular level.
“You didn’t tell me!”
“You didn’t ask,” Levi replied.
Hange gestured wildly. “That is not information people ASK for!”
Levi stepped closer to you.
Not dramatically.
Just naturally.
Like gravity pulled him there.
Hange noticed immediately.
“Oh no,” they whispered.
You remained seated, looking up at Levi.
He looked down at you.
“You told her,” he said quietly.
“She suggested I date,” you replied.
His eyes sharpened slightly.
“…She did.”
“Yes.”
Levi’s gaze flicked to Hange.
For a moment, there was something dangerous in it.
“Suggest it again,” he said softly.
Hange took a step back.
“Okay, that was threatening.”
Levi ignored them.
Instead, his hand came to rest lightly on the back of your chair.
Not possessive.
Not dramatic.
Just… there.
But the gesture changed the entire atmosphere.
Hange stared.
“You two are disgusting.”
“We’re married,” you corrected.
“That doesn’t mean you have to radiate tension!”
Levi’s fingers slid briefly from the chair to your shoulder.
You didn’t react.
Because this wasn’t new.
His thumb pressed once, subtly.
Checking.
You understood.
“I’m fine,” you murmured.
“I know,” he replied.
Hange made a small, distressed noise.
“Why do you talk like that.”
“Like what,” Levi said.
“Like you share one brain cell.”
You stood slowly.
Now you were very close to Levi.
Close enough that your sleeve brushed his hand.
Close enough that he didn’t move away.
“You’re overreacting,” you told Hange.
“I’m overreacting?! You’ve been secretly married to humanity’s strongest soldier for THREE YEARS!”
Levi sighed quietly.
“It wasn’t secret.”
“It absolutely was!”
He glanced down at you.
“You want to explain?”
You shook your head slightly.
“No.”
“Thought so.”
Hange crossed their arms.
“Prove it.”
Levi raised an eyebrow. “Prove what.”
“That you’re actually married.”
You looked at Levi.
He looked at you.
A silent exchange.
Then
His hand moved.
Not to your shoulder.
Not to your wrist.
To your waist.
Firm. Certain. Familiar.
He pulled you gently against him.
Your breath caught barely.
But your hands came up instinctively, resting against his chest.
Steady.
Balanced.
Like you’d done it countless times.
His voice dropped lower.
“Enough?”
Hange’s mouth fell open.
You looked up at him.
“…Show off,” you murmured.
“Your fault.”
“You could’ve just said yes.”
“I did.”
His thumb brushed lightly against your hip.
Small.
Private.
Hange looked like they were witnessing a live execution.
“You’re in love,” they whispered.
Levi didn’t deny it.
Instead, he leaned down slightly.
His forehead almost touched yours.
“Next time,” he murmured quietly, so only you could hear, “tell her sooner.”
“Why?”
“So I don’t have to hear about you dating anyone.”
You almost smiled.
“Jealous?”
His eyes narrowed slightly.
“Don’t push it.”
Hange clutched their head.
“MOBLIT!”
As if summoned by chaos itself, Moblit Berner appeared in the doorway.
“Hange? I heard-”
He froze.
You were still in Levi’s arms.
Levi’s hand still firm at your waist.
Moblit blinked.
“…Sir?”
“We’re married,” Levi said flatly.
Moblit inhaled sharply.
“For three years,” you added helpfully.
Moblit looked faint.
Hange pointed dramatically.
“DID YOU KNOW?!”
“N-No!”
Levi’s grip on your waist softened slightly.
But didn’t leave.
“You’re insufferable,” he muttered to Hange.
You looked up at him quietly.
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“Yes, I did.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
You raised an eyebrow.
He looked down at you.
“…I don’t like the idea,” he said quietly.
“Of?”
“Anyone suggesting you date.”
Your expression softened.
“Oh.”
Hange made a tiny emotional noise.
“They’re so intense.”
Levi finally released you.
But his hand lingered for a second longer than necessary.
“Come on,” he said.
You nodded.
As you passed Hange, they grabbed your arm.
“You owe me details.”
“Unlikely.”
“You’re cruel.”
Levi opened the door.
“You’re loud.”
You walked out together.
Not touching.
But close enough that your shoulders brushed.
And this time
Everyone who saw you noticed.
Hiii!! I lovee your workk so muchhh!!!(i mostly read from aot fandom) I just wanted to ask a fanfic(readerxlevi) where like reader is a introverted person and changes personality acc to the person they are talking to, socially anxious and like a person which is a pretty introverted but is like the most talkative- lovingly annoying when you get to know them.if you make itt can you pleasee make it in the timeline before the 104th cadet corp where the og levi squad is present and reader is a fellow captain.Thank youuuu verryyy much!!!!
┊ ┊ ┊ ♡ ┊ AOT - ! Levi X reader-
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♡ ⋆ ┊ .
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AN! - I had a blast putting this together! I wrote this during a lecture so I apologize for any spelling or grammar mistakes. thank you so so much for your request! I hope its what you wanted. For my readers I do have a question, would you guys rather see more work like this (character specific longer oneshots. or my usual multi character oneshots. ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡
જ⁀➴ ♡ Levi Ackerman
The first thing people noticed about you was how quiet you were.
The second thing they noticed was how that changed depending on who was standing in front of you.
With Commander Erwin, your posture was straight, voice level, clipped and efficient. With Hange, you nodded enthusiastically, indulging their theories with polite curiosity. With your squad? Calm. Encouraging. Steady.
With strangers? Almost invisible.
And with Captain Levi?
…That depended.
The first time Levi Ackerman really watched you was during a strategy meeting in the old headquarters under Erwin Smith’s command.
You spoke only when addressed.
Precise. Tactical. Sharp observations about Titan behavior patterns beyond Wall Maria. Your insight impressed him though he would never admit that out loud.
When the meeting ended, your personality shifted like a candle shielded from wind. Shoulders pulled in slightly. Eyes lowered. You slipped out quietly before anyone could start casual conversation.
Levi noticed. Levi's Squad noticed too.
You were different around them.
Still reserved but softer. You smiled more. Your voice gained warmth.
And once just once when Oluo started rambling dramatically about his near death experience, you rolled your eyes and muttered, “You’ve told this story four times.”
The squad stared at you.
You flushed red instantly.
“I- I just meant”
Petra burst into laughter.
Levi didn’t.
But the corner of his mouth twitched.
You hated how aware you were of him.
Every time he entered a room, your spine stiffened. Words reorganized themselves. You became more controlled. More careful.
He was observant painfully so.
“You talk differently to them,” he said one evening while you were both finishing paperwork.
You nearly dropped your pen.
“I what?”
“Them.” He gestured vaguely toward where your squad usually trained. “You’re louder.”
“I’m not loud.”
“You are.”
You huffed. “That’s debatable.”
His eyes narrowed slightly. “You just did it.”
“Did what?”
“That.”
Your heart thudded.
You’d slipped just a little. The more comfortable you became, the more your words loosened. You got… annoyingly talkative. Playful. Teasing. It only happened when you felt safe.
And somehow, recently… it had started happening around him.
You panicked.
“I don’t know what you mean, Captain.”
“Stop calling me that.”
Silence.
“…Levi.”
The way you said his name hesitant and soft it had made something tighten in his chest.
The truth was, you adjusted yourself to survive.
Growing up inside the Walls meant reading rooms quickly. Matching energy. Keeping yourself small when necessary.
With Levi, you never knew which version of yourself to be.
The quiet, composed Captain?
Or the one who talked too much once comfort settled in?
You were afraid if he saw too much, he’d decide it was irritating.
It happened during a storm.
You and Levi were stuck inside headquarters reviewing casualty reports. Thunder cracked outside, rattling the windows.
You hated storms.
He noticed your fingers trembling slightly as you sorted papers.
“You’re distracted.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
“…I don’t like thunder.”
He stared at you.
That wasn’t something the composed Captain version of you would admit.
“Why?”
You swallowed. “It’s loud.”
“That’s obvious.”
You shot him a look.
And then before you could stop yourself you started talking.
About how the noise made your chest feel tight. How as a child you used to count seconds between lightning and thunder to calm down. How you hated that it still affected you.
Words tumbled out.
Fast. Messy. Honest.
You froze halfway through your explanation.
“…Sorry. I talk a lot when I’m nervous.”
Levi leaned back in his chair, watching you carefully.
“You don’t talk a lot.”
Your face burned.
“You talk when you trust someone.”
Your breath caught.
The storm outside felt distant suddenly.
“You noticed that?” you whispered.
“I notice everything.”
Silence stretched but it wasn’t uncomfortable.
“You don’t have to adjust around me,” he added quietly. “It’s irritating.”
Your heart dropped.
He continued before you could retreat.
“It’s irritating because it means you’re holding back.”
Oh.
“You prefer which version?” you asked softly.
He stood, walked closer, stopping just within your space not touching.
“The honest one.”
Your pulse thundered louder than the storm.
“The one that rolls her eyes at Oluo.”
“…That was one time.”
“The one that mutters under her breath.”
“I do not”
“You do.”
“…Lovingly,” you mumbled.
His gaze softened barely.
“Lovingly annoying,” he corrected.
You blinked. Was that... a complement?
“You don’t find it annoying?”
“Not if it’s you.”
Your brain stopped functioning.
Outside, lightning flashed.
Inside, something far more dangerous shifted between you.
After that night, things changed subtly.
You still carried yourself professionally during meetings with Erwin.
Still reserved with strangers.
But around Levi? You stopped filtering as much.
You teased him about his cleaning obsession ... carefully. You argued strategies with more fire. You spoke your thoughts without rehearsing them first.
And sometimes, when you forgot yourself completely, you’d ramble animated, hands moving, eyes bright.
He would just watch.
Quiet.
Attentive.
Like you were something rare.
One evening, Petra pulled you aside.
“You’re different around Captain Levi.”
You nearly choked.
“I am not.”
“You smile more.”
You wanted the ground to swallow you whole.
Across the courtyard, Levi was speaking to Eld but his eyes flicked toward you briefly.
You smiled without thinking.
He noticed.
Of course he did.
You were still introverted. Still socially anxious. Still someone who adapted to survive.
But slowly, with him, you didn’t feel like you had to.
And Levi humanity’s strongest soldier found that the bravest thing he’d ever witnessed wasn’t someone charging at Titans.
It was you.
Letting yourself be seen.
It happened a week later.
Not during a storm. Not during a mission. Not in the middle of some life or death moment.
Just… quiet.
The courtyard was nearly empty at dusk. The sky burned soft orange beyond the Walls, wind carrying the distant sounds of soldiers finishing drills. Petra and the others had already gone inside.
You stood near the railing, lost in thought.
“You’re doing it again.”
You didn’t have to turn to know it was him.
“Doing what?” you asked softly.
“Overthinking.”
You exhaled a small laugh. “You make it sound like a crime.”
“It is. It makes you stiff.”
You glanced at him. “And you don’t like that?”
“No.”
There was no hesitation.
You swallowed.
The evening light caught in his gray eyes, softening them in a way few people ever saw. He stepped beside you, shoulder nearly brushing yours.
“You were quieter today,” he observed.
“I was tired.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
Of course it wasn’t.
You stared at the horizon. “Sometimes I don’t know which version of me people want.”
“I don’t,” he said flatly.
You blinked. “You don’t what?”
“Want versions.”
The wind shifted between you.
“I want you,” he corrected.
Your breath hitched.
No title. No distance. No Captain.
Just you.
Levi rarely spoke more than necessary. So when he did, the weight of it settled deep.
“I don’t care if you’re quiet,” he continued. “Or if you talk too much. Or if you get nervous when it storms.”
His hand moved slow, deliberate resting over yours on the railing.
Not gripping.
Not forcing.
Just there.
Grounding.
“I just don’t want you shrinking.”
Your pulse thundered in your ears.
“You make it sound easy,” you whispered.
“It’s not.”
His thumb shifted slightly against your knuckles the smallest movement, but it sent warmth up your arm.
“I don’t trust people easily,” he said. “You know that.”
You did.
He turned his head slightly, close enough that you could feel the warmth of him.
“But I trust you.”
Your heart felt like it might split open.
“And when you talk,” he added quietly, “when you forget to hold yourself back… that’s when you look happiest.”
You didn’t realize your eyes were shining until he lifted his free hand and brushed his thumb just beneath one, almost awkwardly.
“You don’t have to be smaller,” he murmured. “Not with me.”
The world felt impossibly still.
For someone who analyzed every word, every breath, every reaction you didn’t calculate this.
You leaned into him first.
Just barely.
Your shoulder pressing against his arm.
Tentative.
Testing.
He didn’t pull away.
Instead, his hand tightened around yours firm and certain.
“You’re not too much,” he said, quieter now. “You’re exactly enough.”
Your chest ached in the best way.
“I might still ramble,” you warned softly.
“Probably.”
“And roll my eyes at Oluo.”
“You definitely will.”
“And mutter under my breath.”
He leaned closer, voice low near your ear.
“I’ll be listening.”
The warmth that spread through you had nothing to do with the fading sunlight.
You turned your head slightly almost too close now. His gaze dropped briefly to your lips before returning to your eyes.
Careful.
Always careful.
But this time, neither of you stepped back.
“You’re staring,” you whispered.
“You’re smiling.”
You hadn’t even realized.
Slowly like approaching something fragile he lifted his hand from yours and rested it against your waist.
A silent question.
You answered by closing the small distance between you.
The kiss wasn’t rushed.
It wasn’t desperate.
It was deliberate.
Warm.
Certain.
The kind of kiss that felt like two guarded people lowering their weapons at the same time.
When he pulled back, his forehead rested lightly against yours.
“You’re allowed to take up space,” he murmured.
Your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt.
“Even next to humanity’s strongest?”
He huffed the faintest breath of amusement.
“Especially next to me.”
For the first time in a long time, your mind wasn’t racing.
You weren’t adjusting.
You weren’t rehearsing.
You were just there.
With him.
And Levi who trusted almost no one held you like you were something he had already decided to protect.
Not because you were fragile.
But because you were his.
┊ ┊ ┊ ♡ ┊ AOT - ! lingerie surprise for valentines day
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┊ ┊ ♡ ⋆ +
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જ⁀➴ ♡ Levi Ackerman
Levi knew something was wrong the second he opened the door.
Too quiet.
Too warm.
Too intentional.
The candlelight painted the room in gold and shadow and then you stepped into it.
He stopped mid step.
Crimson lace. Soft, dangerous, clinging to you like it had no right to. No uniform. No straps. No gear. Just you.
His eyes darkened instantly.
The door clicked shut behind him with deliberate calm.
“…Explain,” he said.
You leaned against the desk, pretending innocence. “It’s Valentine’s Day.”
His jaw flexed.
“You think this is funny?”
The way he said it wasn’t anger. It was restraint.
He approached slowly boots silent against the floor. You felt smaller with every step he took, not because he towered over you, but because of the intensity in his gaze. Levi didn’t look at you like that often.
When he did, it meant something.
“You waited until I finished drills,” he murmured. “Until I was already wound tight.”
You swallowed. “Maybe.”
That was a mistake.
His hand shot out not rough but firm enough to make you gasp as he pulled you forward by the waist. You collided gently against his chest, and you could feel the tension coiled in him.
“You don’t get to stand there,” he said lowly, “looking like this… and pretend you didn’t plan it.”
His fingers traced up your spine, slow, controlled. Not grabbing. Not desperate.
Testing.
You shivered.
His eyes flicked down watching your reaction. Memorizing it.
“That’s what I thought,” he whispered.
You reached for his shirt, tugging lightly. “You don’t seem very composed, Captain.”
A dangerous silence filled the space between you.
In one smooth motion, he backed you against the desk. Not enough to hurt just enough to remind you who was in control.
“You want honesty?” His voice dropped, softer but heavier. “I’ve been thinking about this since the second I saw you.”
Your breath hitched.
“Thinking about what?” you dared.
His hand slid along your thigh stopping just where the lace began. Fingers pressing lightly into skin, not moving further.
“About how unfair this is,” he murmured.
His thumb brushed slow circles against your hip. Measured. Torturous.
“You dress like this and expect me to act like a gentleman?”
You leaned closer, your lips brushing his ear. “Are you not?”
He inhaled sharply.
That was it.
His composure snapped not explosively but decisively.
He lifted you onto the desk again, stepping between your knees. His hands gripped your thighs this time firmer. holding you in place as he leaned in, mouth just barely grazing yours.
“You’re testing me,” he said against your lips.
“Maybe I like seeing you lose control.”
A long pause.
Then his hands tightened slightly.
“I don’t lose control,” he said quietly. “I decide when to let it go.”
His mouth claimed yours deeper than before. Slow but consuming. The kind of kiss that makes your fingers curl into fabric and your thoughts blur.
His hand slid to your waist again, holding you steady as he trailed his mouth along your jaw, down your throat. Not rushing. Letting you feel every second.
“You have no idea,” he murmured against your skin, “what you do to me.”
Your nails lightly dragged over his shoulders, and the low sound that left him barely there almost undid you.
He pulled back just enough to look at you.
Hair slightly out of place. Eyes darker than you’d ever seen. Breathing heavier but still controlled.
Still Levi.
“You’re staying in this room tonight,” he said softly. Not a command but close. “Because if anyone else sees you like this…”
He didn’t finish the sentence.
He didn’t have to.
His forehead rested against yours.
“You belong right here,” he added quietly.
And the way his hands tightened at your hips made it clear
He wasn’t letting you go anytime soon.
“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he whispered.
But the promise in his voice said this was only the beginning.
જ⁀➴ ♡ Eren Yeager
Eren didn’t knock.
He never did.
The door opened fast, boots heavy against the floor frustration still clinging to him from training, from responsibility, from the weight he always carried.
And then he saw you.
He froze.
You stood near the window, candlelight flickering over your skin. No uniform. No jacket. Just deep red lace hugging you in a way that made his breath stop halfway in his lungs.
For a second, he just stared.
“…What are you wearing?” His voice came out lower than usual.
“It’s Valentine’s Day,” you said softly.
That did something to him.
He stepped inside slowly, shutting the door behind him without looking away from you. His eyes dragged over every inch of you openly. No subtlety. No restraint.
“You did this on purpose,” he muttered.
“Maybe.”
His jaw tightened.
Eren wasn’t controlled like Levi. He wasn’t calm and measured.
He was fire barely contained in skin.
“You have any idea,” he said quietly, stepping closer, “what you’re doing to me right now?”
You swallowed as he stopped just inches away.
His hand came up, fingers brushing your waist hesitant for only a second before gripping a little tighter. Like he needed to feel you there. Real.
“You walk around looking like this,” he murmured, eyes darkening, “and expect me to stay sane?”
Your heart pounded. “Are you not sane?”
He let out a short, breathless laugh but there was no humor in it. Just heat.
“Not when it comes to you.”
Suddenly his hands were on your hips, pulling you against him. The movement wasn’t rough but it was urgent. Honest.
“You drive me insane,” he whispered.
His forehead dropped against yours, breath warm, uneven. His fingers flexed slightly at your sides like he was fighting himself.
“I fight Titans. I fight the world,” he said. “But you…” His thumb brushed along the edge of lace at your waist. “…you undo me.”
Your fingers tangled in his shirt, pulling him closer.
That was all it took.
His mouth crashed into yours not careful, not slow. Passionate. Intense. The kind of kiss that felt like bottled emotion finally breaking open.
His hands moved up your back, gripping tighter when you gasped against his lips.
“Don’t look at anyone else like this,” he muttered against your mouth.
“Like what?”
“Like you want them.”
There it was that possessive edge. Not cruel. Just desperate.
“I don’t,” you whispered.
He searched your face, like he needed proof.
Then he lifted you easily, sitting you on the edge of the table without breaking eye contact. His hands slid along your thighs, firm, claiming space between them as he stepped closer.
“You’re mine,” he said softly but it wasn’t a threat.
It was devotion.
Raw. Consuming. Terrifyingly sincere.
His fingers traced the lace slowly, reverently. “You look so beautiful it makes me angry,” he admitted. “Because I know other people would look.”
Your pulse jumped.
He leaned in, mouth brushing along your jaw, down your neck not rushed, but hungry. Like he’d been starving for this.
“I don’t share,” he murmured against your skin.
You wrapped your arms around his shoulders. “You don’t have to.”
That broke whatever restraint he had left.
He kissed you again, deeper, hands tightening at your waist as if he was afraid you’d disappear.
When he finally pulled back, his breathing was uneven, hair falling slightly into his eyes.
“Next time,” he said hoarsely, “warn me.”
“Why?”
“So I can lock the door sooner.”
A faint smirk tugged at his lips but his eyes were still burning.
“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he whispered, pressing his forehead to yours.
And with the way his hands were still gripping you, it was clear
You weren’t leaving that room anytime soon.
જ⁀➴ ♡ armin arlert
Armin wasn’t expecting anything special.
He had spent most of the evening buried in maps and notes, glasses slightly crooked, mumbling strategies to himself. Valentine’s Day hadn’t even crossed his mind not with everything going on.
So when he opened the door and saw you…
He forgot how to think.
You stood in the candlelight, wrapped in delicate lace the color of deep ocean. Soft. Beautiful. Intimidating in the quietest way.
His breath caught audibly. “You look…”
His eyes drifted over you, slow and wide, completely unguarded. Unlike Levi’s control or Eren’s fire, Armin’s reaction was pure, honest awe.
“…Is this for me?”
You smiled. “Who else?”
His cheeks flushed instantly.
“You didn’t have to do that,” he said but he couldn’t look away. Not for a second.
You stepped closer, watching the way his breathing grew shallow. His hands hovered at his sides, unsure where to rest, like he was afraid touching you might break something fragile.
“You don’t like it?” you teased softly.
His head snapped up. “No! I mean I do. I just...”
He ran a hand through his hair, flustered beyond words.
“You look so beautiful it’s unfair,” he admitted quietly.
That soft confession made your heart squeeze.
You reached for him first, guiding his hands gently to your waist.
He inhaled sharply at the contact.
His fingers rested there carefully at first… then tightened slightly when he realized you weren’t pulling away.
“You’re really doing this,” he murmured, almost to himself.
“Doing what?”
“Looking at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like I’m the only person in the world.”
You stepped closer until your bodies touched.
“You are.”
That broke him.
His composure melted completely. His hands slid more confidently along your waist, pulling you closer, as if he suddenly needed reassurance that you were real.
“I don’t deserve you,” he whispered.
You brushed your lips against his. “Yes, you do.”
His kiss started hesitant soft, testing. But when you responded, when your fingers tangled in his shirt and you leaned into him, something shifted.
The kiss deepened.
Not rough. Not rushed.
Just overwhelming.
His hands moved up your back, holding you firmly now, like he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go. When you made a quiet sound against his lips, he almost lost his balance.
“Don’t” he breathed, resting his forehead against yours. “You don’t know what that does to me.”
“Show me,” you whispered.
His cheeks flushed again but this time, there was heat behind it.
Carefully, almost reverently, he lifted you to sit on the edge of the desk. His hands traced along your thighs, slow and trembling slightly not from fear, but from intensity.
“I’ve imagined this,” he admitted softly. “But it’s… different when it’s real.”
“Different how?”
He looked at you like you were something sacred.
“It’s better.”
His lips found your neck, slower now, braver. His hands held your waist with surprising strength, grounding himself in you.
“You make me forget everything,” he murmured against your skin. “The Titans. The fear. Everything.”
You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer.
“I don’t ever want to lose this,” he said quietly.
“You won’t.”
He pulled back just enough to look at you, blue eyes darker than usual, filled with something deep and vulnerable and burning all at once.
“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he whispered.
And when he kissed you again deeper this time, more certain it wasn’t just passion.
It was love.
જ⁀➴ ♡ Erwin Smith
You weren’t nervous.
You told yourself you weren’t.
But when Commander Erwin Smith stepped into the room and shut the door behind him, the quiet weight of his presence made your pulse betray you.
He noticed everything.
The dim lighting. The candles. You.
His blue eyes settled on you slowly.
And stopped.
For a long moment, he said nothing.
You stood there in deep crimson lace, delicate against your skin a sharp contrast to the disciplined world he lived in.
“Is there a reason,” he asked calmly, removing his gloves one finger at a time, “that you are out of uniform?”
Your breath caught.
“It’s Valentine’s Day, Commander.”
A pause.
His gaze sharpened.
“I see.”
He stepped closer not hurried, not startled. Erwin was never shaken easily. But the way his eyes darkened told you this had affected him more than he would ever openly admit.
“You planned this,” he observed.
“Yes.”
“Knowing I had meetings all day.”
“Yes.”
A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.
“How strategic.”
He stopped directly in front of you. Close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from him. Still not touching.
He let the silence stretch testing your resolve.
“You’re aware,” he said quietly, “that you’ve placed me in a very difficult position.”
“How so?”
His eyes flicked slowly down your body and back up again deliberate. Appreciative. Controlled.
“Because I am attempting,” he murmured, “to remain a composed leader.”
His hand lifted.
Slowly.
His fingers brushed along your waist, firm and steady.
Measured.
Claiming.
“And you,” he continued softly, “are making that exceedingly difficult.”
Your breath hitched as his thumb traced the edge of lace at your hip.
“You don’t look very composed,” you whispered.
That did it.
His hand tightened slightly.
In one smooth motion, he guided you backward until the back of your legs met the desk. Not rough. Just decisive.
“Careful,” he said quietly. “You are treading on dangerous ground.”
“Am I?”
His other hand came to your jaw, tilting your face upward.
“You look at me like that,” he murmured, voice lower now, “and expect restraint?”
His mouth brushed yours not fully kissing yet. Just barely there. A warning. A promise.
“You have no idea,” he continued softly, “how often I must exercise control.”
You swallowed. “And now?”
His lips finally captured yours deep, slow, commanding. The kind of kiss that leaves no doubt who’s leading.
His hands moved to your hips, lifting you effortlessly onto the desk without breaking contact. He stepped between your knees, broad hands resting firmly on your thighs.
“You are breathtaking,” he said against your lips. “And entirely aware of it.”
You smiled faintly.
His fingers traced upward slowly, deliberately, as if committing every reaction to memory.
“If any other soldier were to see you like this,” he murmured, eyes darkening, “they would not survive the experience.”
It wasn’t jealousy.
It was possession wrapped in quiet authority.
“You are mine,” he said softly not as a demand.
As a certainty.
His forehead rested against yours for a moment, his breathing deeper now, though still controlled.
“I spend every day prepared to sacrifice everything,” he whispered. “But tonight… I intend to indulge.”
His lips found your neck, slower this time, intentional. His grip at your waist firm, grounding.
“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he murmured against your skin.
And the way his hands tightened made it clear
The Commander had officially dismissed all other duties for the night.
Hii, this isn't a request but I've wanted to start writing on tumblr, but I've never done anything like that before. I just wanted to ask if you had any tips or suggestions, because despite wanting to start I dont know how.
first of all, you’re definitely not alone in feeling this way. honestly, most people who start writing on tumblr feel the exact same wanting to start but not knowing how, or what exactly to write about
you don’t need perfect writing, a theme, or a plan. just start with something small. like a drabble, a headcanon, or a little moment you can’t stop thinking about. tumblr is super forgiving.
In fact Most of my work comes from silly little day dreams Iv had.
also, write what you want to read. trends come and go, but if you’re enjoying yourself, it shows. and it’s okay if your first posts feel awkward or messy that’s part of finding your style.
start small, be kind to yourself, and don’t overthink it. pressing post the first time is the hardest part, but it gets easier every time after. dont worry about how much attention your posts get. focus on how making them feels.
you’ve got this. i promise 🤍
┊ ┊ ┊ ♡ ┊ AOT - ! react to you in a revealing outfit
┊ ┊ ┊ ˚ ♡
┊ ┊ ♡ ⋆ +
♡ ⋆ ┊ .
+ ♡
AN!- hello everyone! sorry for the lack of content. Iv been struck by the writer curse. Life's hit me with a few hard hits recently. But I'm back! hope you all enjoy!
જ⁀➴ ♡ Levi Ackerman
The room goes quiet the moment you step inside.
Not the comfortable silence Levi prefers the kind that settles after orders are given and obeyed but the sharp kind. The kind that cuts.
Levi’s cleaning cloth stills in his hand.
You don’t notice at first. You’re busy tugging at the hem of your shirt, already regretting your decision. It had seemed harmless enough when you’d dressed off duty, warm evening, a top that dipped lower than regulation and shorts that definitely wouldn’t pass inspection. You’d told yourself it didn’t matter. You weren’t on patrol. You weren’t on display.
Apparently, you were wrong.
Levi’s eyes lift. Just once.
That’s all it takes.
His expression doesn’t change still flat, still unreadable but something tightens around his mouth. His gaze tracks you with the same precision he uses on the battlefield, slow and assessing, lingering a fraction longer than necessary before he looks away.
You feel it like a physical touch.
“…You’re blocking the doorway,” he says.
That’s it. No comment. No reaction.
But his grip on the cloth tightens.
You step inside anyway, heart thudding. “Didn’t realize I needed permission to enter my own quarters,” you mutter.
Levi exhales through his nose. “You didn’t.”
Then, quieter: “You just picked a bad time.”
You glance down at yourself, heat creeping up your neck. “It’s just clothes.”
“They’re not just clothes,” he says, immediately irritated with you or himself, you’re not sure.
Levi turns fully now, dark eyes flicking back despite himself. He stops short, jaw tensing when he realizes he’s staring. The neckline reveals more skin than usual, the fabric clinging in a way that leaves very little to the imagination. You catch the way his gaze dips just once to your legs before snapping back to your face.
The silence stretches.
“You always look like that?” he asks flatly.
You arch a brow. “You mean… human?”
His eyes narrow. “Don’t play dumb.”
Something bold stirs in your chest. Maybe it’s the way his composure feels thinner than usual. Maybe it’s the fact that Levi Ackerman Captain, humanity’s strongest soldier looks like he’s one wrong breath away from losing his legendary self-control.
“I didn’t think you’d care,” you say.
“That’s the problem,” he replies. “I do.”
The words hang between you, heavy.
Levi steps closer. Not invading your space just close enough that you can feel his presence, sharp and restrained like a coiled blade. His eyes search your face, then drop again, unmistakably this time.
“Do you have any idea what you’re doing?” he asks.
Your pulse stutters. “Existing?”
His lips press into a thin line. “Testing me.”
Your breath catches. “And if I am?”
Levi’s hand comes up not touching you, not quite but bracing against the wall beside your shoulder. You freeze, hyper-aware of the heat radiating from him, the way his gaze darkens.
“Then stop,” he says quietly. “Because I don’t lose control. Ever.”
You swallow. “You look like you might.”
For the first time, something cracks.
Levi lets out a sharp breath, forehead dipping just enough to almost almost rest against yours. His voice drops, rougher than you’ve ever heard it.
“You have no idea how hard it is to look at you like this and still be the man I’m supposed to be.”
Your heart pounds so loud you’re sure he hears it.
Slowly deliberately Levi straightens and steps back. The distance feels colder immediately.
“Change,” he says, turning away. “Or don’t. But don’t pretend you don’t see what it does.”
He pauses at the door, hand on the frame.
“…Next time,” he adds without looking at you, “warn me.”
The door shuts softly behind him.
You’re left alone, skin still burning, knowing one thing with absolute certainty
Levi Ackerman noticed. And he won’t forget.
જ⁀➴ ♡ Eren Yeager
You feel his stare before you hear him.
It’s heavy. Burning. The kind that presses into your back and makes your skin prickle.
You don’t turn right away.
You’re leaning against the railing outside headquarters, evening air warm against bare skin. The shirt you chose is loose, open at the collar, slipping just enough off one shoulder to feel… intentional. You hadn’t planned to see him. That’s what you tell yourself.
Behind you, footsteps stop.
Eren doesn’t say your name.
He exhales.
Slow. Sharp. Controlled barely.
“…You always dress like that now?” he asks.
You glance over your shoulder. His green eyes are darker than usual, jaw clenched so tight you can see the muscle jump. His hair is pulled back, loose strands framing his face, and his coat hangs open like he forgot to finish putting it on.
Or like he rushed.
“Like what?” you ask lightly.
Eren’s gaze drags over you no attempt to hide it. The exposed skin at your collarbone. Your waist. Your legs. His stare lingers, hungry and angry all at once, like he’s fighting something feral under his ribs.
“Like you’re trying to start something,” he says.
You turn fully now, heart pounding. “And if I am?”
That does it.
He closes the distance in two strides, stopping just short of touching you. You can feel his heat, his presence overwhelming, the air charged like a storm about to break.
“Do you know how many people were looking at you?” he growls.
You tilt your head. “Were you one of them?”
His hand slams into the railing beside you.
“Yes.”
The word is immediate. Honest. Dangerous.
Eren leans in, forehead almost touching yours, breath warm against your lips. His eyes flick down once to your mouth, then back up, furious with himself.
“You think I don’t notice?” he mutters. “You think I don’t see how they look at you?”
Your voice comes out softer than you expect. “And how do you look at me?”
For a moment, Eren says nothing.
Then his hand lifts not touching, not quite hovering near your waist like he’s afraid of what will happen if he does.
“Like I want to pull you away from all of them,” he admits quietly. “Like I want to hide you somewhere only I can see.”
Your breath catches.
“But I won’t,” he adds, jaw tightening. “Because you’re not mine to cage.”
His eyes burn into yours. “Even if every part of me wants to.”
The tension is unbearable now, stretched thin between want and restraint. You can feel how close he is to snapping, how carefully he’s holding himself together for your sake.
“Eren,” you whisper.
He straightens abruptly, stepping back like he’s been burned. His hand drops to his side, fingers curling into a fist.
“Next time,” he says, voice rough, “don’t pretend you don’t know what you’re doing.”
He turns to leave, then pauses.
“…And don’t act surprised,” he adds without looking at you, “when I can’t stop looking.”
Then he’s gone leaving you flushed, breathless, and painfully aware of one thing:
Eren Yeager doesn’t just notice you.
He aches for you.
જ⁀➴ ♡ armin arlert
Armin notices before he means to.
He always does.
You’re laughing with someone across the room when he looks up from his notes, the sound pulling his attention without permission. His eyes lift and then he forgets what he was reading entirely.
You’re wearing something different today.
Not improper. Not wrong. Just… revealing enough to change the air around you. The fabric hugs your waist, the neckline dipping low enough that Armin has to swallow and look away.
Except he doesn’t.
His ears burn. His heart starts racing for no logical reason at all.
Get it together, he tells himself.
Too late.
You catch him staring.
Your eyes meet across the room, and instead of looking embarrassed or annoyed, you smile. Not teasing. Not cruel. Just warm.
It somehow makes it worse.
Later when the room has emptied and the quiet settles back in Armin finds you near the window, the evening light painting your skin gold. He approaches slowly, like he’s afraid a sudden movement might shatter something delicate.
“…Hey,” he says.
You turn. “Hey.”
His gaze flicks down without his permission and immediately snaps back up. His cheeks flush pink.
“I...um,” he starts, then stops, pushing his fingers through his hair. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to stare earlier.”
You tilt your head. “But you did.”
He nods, mortified. “Yeah. I did.”
There’s a pause. The kind that stretches, full of unspoken things.
“You look…” He hesitates, searching for the right word. “You look really nice.”
Something in your expression softens.
“Is that all you wanted to say?” you ask gently.
Armin exhales, a shaky little laugh escaping him. “No. I mean yes. But also”
He looks at you again, really looks this time. Not rushed. Not accidental. His eyes linger at your collarbone, your waist, the way you stand like you’re completely at ease in your own skin.
His voice drops. “I didn’t realize how hard it would be to concentrate.”
Your breath catches. “Armin…”
“I’m not upset,” he rushes to clarify. “Just aware. Very aware.”
He steps closer, still careful, still respectful, but close enough now that you can see the conflict in his eyes. Curiosity. Want. That familiar restraint he’s always carried.
“I don’t want you to think I see you differently,” he says quietly. “I just… might be seeing you more clearly.”
Your heart stutters.
“And what do you see?” you ask.
Armin’s hand lifts, hesitating in the space between you, never quite touching. His fingers tremble.
“…Someone I care about,” he says. “Someone I’m trying very hard not to make uncomfortable.”
You close the distance yourself just a step, just enough.
“You’re not,” you whisper.
Armin freezes. His breath hitches, eyes widening slightly before softening into something achingly tender.
“…You’re dangerous,” he murmurs, not accusing awed.
You smile. “So I’ve been told.”
He laughs quietly, then sobers, gaze lingering on your lips before forcing himself to look back into your eyes.
“Next time,” he says softly, “you should know… I’ll notice.”
You lean closer, just close enough to make his breath falter.
“I was hoping you would.”
Armin doesn’t kiss you.
But the way he looks at you afterward like you’ve rewritten something inside him tells you everything you need to know.
જ⁀➴ ♡ Erwin Smith
Erwin notices immediately.
He always does.
You enter the strategy room quietly, but his attention shifts before the door even closes. Years of command have honed his awareness of threats, of changes, of you. His eyes lift from the map table out of habit.
Then they stop.
You’re dressed differently today. Not improperly. Just… deliberately. The cut of your clothes reveals more skin than usual your collarbone, the line of your waist, the confidence in the way you carry yourself. You look composed. Unapologetic.
Erwin’s expression remains calm.
But his grip tightens on the edge of the table.
He doesn’t stare. Not openly. He lets his gaze pass over you once, controlled and assessing, then returns to his work like nothing has changed.
You know better.
Later, when the room has emptied and dusk bleeds through the tall windows, Erwin calls your name.
“Stay a moment.”
The door closes behind the others, leaving only the quiet and the weight of his presence. He turns to face you fully now, blue eyes steady, unreadable.
“You’ve drawn attention today,” he says evenly.
You fold your arms. “That wasn’t my intention.”
“I believe you,” he replies. Then, after a pause, “That doesn’t change the effect.”
His gaze drifts briefly, deliberately before returning to your face. It feels intimate somehow, the way he allows himself that single, honest look.
“You’re aware of how people look at you,” Erwin continues. “Especially dressed like this.”
Your heart beats faster. “And how do you look at me, Commander?”
For the first time, something shifts.
Not much. Just enough.
Erwin steps closer, boots echoing softly against stone. He stops at a respectful distance, but the space between you hums with tension.
“Carefully,” he answers. “Because authority does not erase desire. It only demands control.”
Your breath catches.
“I won’t tell you how to dress,” he says quietly. “That isn’t my place.”
His voice lowers. “But understand this when I notice you, it isn’t as a commander evaluating a soldier.”
His eyes hold yours now, intense and unwavering.
“It’s as a man recognizing temptation,” he admits.
Silence stretches, heavy and charged.
You take a small step closer. “And does that bother you?”
Erwin exhales slowly, like he’s choosing every word with care.
“Yes,” he says. “Because I do not indulge what I cannot afford to lose control over.”
His hand lifts not to touch you, never crossing that line but to rest against the table beside you, close enough that you feel caged by nothing but his presence.
“You are distracting,” he says plainly. “And that is rare.”
Your pulse races.
He straightens, stepping back, reclaiming his composure like armor sliding back into place.
“Next time,” Erwin says, voice calm once more, “be aware that I will notice.”
A pause.
“…And that I will remember.”
You leave the room with your heart pounding, certain of one thing
Erwin Smith may be disciplined.
But even he is not immune to you.
ENTRANCE EXAMS ARE FINALLY DONE.
I CAN
W̸̢̡̭̻̼̘̗̤̩̣̟͍̼̱͎̣͚̣͇̰̤̮̓͜R̸̡̢̧̧̢̡̢̨̧̧̡̛̛̫͎̟̤̬͔̼̳̼̞͇͖͍͉̗̠̼͎̞̪̟̪͍͓̳̜̬̩̭̬̪͈̜̼̮͚̥̳̫͉͎͕͍͙̝̲͙̹̥̲͚͔̻͖̰̱̖̹̪̘̤͋͒̆͑͊́̍̎̐͒̾͒͒̔͋̈͑̌̀͑̔͗͗̀̀̑̌͗̓̈̀̄͑̄̅̊͊̽͐̌̏̒̐͑́̇̌̐͘̕̕̚͜͜͜͜͜͜͝͠͝͝͝ͅͅÌ̸͓̲̦̥̣͕̦̼͎̗̝̟̦͇̰͙͈͓̦̥͇̖̜̬̻̠͙͊̽̆̍̊̓̉͜͜͝͝T̷̢̢̢̨̨̡̧̡̬͙̲̟̝̦̻̝̤͈̳̬͔̻̼̺̳͍̳̫̩͙̤͖̻͉̼̗̺͓̠͎̳̭͇͎̫̬̮̺͉̖̩̼̼̻͕̘̗̩̜͍̱̺̜̗̬͍̞̟̩̗͎͍̬̣͖͎̣̰̀̓̓͊͊́̉̓̔̐͛̃̂̐̀̈́̾̐̇͋́͌̄̊̀͊̄̚̕̚̕͜͝͝͠ͅȆ̴̌̓̓̊͐̅͂̀̓̉́̑͑͒̾̐͊̓̓͆̀̏̊̾̓̄́̆̅͒̍͐͒̐̔̀̽͛͘͘̕͝͝
Not a req, I just wanted to tell you I’ve binged your aot fics, they’re so good!!! I always crave canonverse content and yours has been so refreshing =^_^=
┊ ┊ ┊ ♡ ┊ AOT - ! Love triangle
┊ ┊ ┊ ˚ ♡
┊ ┊ ♡ ⋆ +
♡ ⋆ ┊ .
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AN!- AWH TY! I always gravitate for cononverse fics as well, so I try to keep my work in that area. Im finally done my exams for school so expect more oneshots!
જ⁀➴ ♡ Levi Ackerman
You noticed it before anyone said it out loud.
The way Erwin’s hand lingered at your back during briefings. The way Levi’s jaw tightened every time he saw it.
It wasn’t dramatic. It was worse than that controlled. Two men used to command, both pretending this wasn’t a battlefield.
Until it became one.
The confrontation happens after dusk.
You’re in the corridor outside Erwin’s office when voices rise low, restrained, dangerous.
“This isn’t professional,” Levi says.
“Neither is hovering over a soldier every time they breathe,” Erwin replies calmly.
You freeze.
“I protect what’s under my command,” Levi snaps.
Erwin steps closer. “Or what you want?”
Silence. Sharp as steel.
“I won’t apologize for caring,” Erwin continues. “Or for offering them something stable. Something you can’t.”
Levi’s laugh is humorless. “You think this is about what I offer?”
The door opens before you can stop it.
Both of them turn. Their attention locks onto you like a blade finding its target.
“That’s enough,” you say quietly.
Erwin studies your face. Levi watches your hands your breathing like he’s bracing for impact.
“I won’t be argued over,” you continue. “If this is about me, then I decide.”
Levi’s shoulders tense. “You don’t owe either of us”
“I know,” you say. Then you turn to Erwin.
“I care about you,” you tell him honestly. “You made me feel seen. Safe.”
Erwin nods once, jaw tight.
Then you look at Levi.
“But he makes me feel chosen.”
Levi’s breath stutters. He looks away, like he doesn’t trust himself to stay composed.
Erwin exhales slowly. “That’s the difference,” he says. “Isn’t it?”
He steps back. “Captain… take care of them.”
The door closes behind him with quiet finality.
Levi doesn’t speak at first.
Then he steps toward you, hands hovering like he’s unsure where he’s allowed to touch.
“You didn’t have to say it like that,” he mutters.
“Yes, I did.”
You take his hands yourself rough, scarred, real and press them to your waist. His grip tightens immediately, instinctive.
“You were ready to tear yourself apart for this,” you say softly. “I won’t let you.”
His forehead drops to yours, breath uneven.
“You make me reckless,” he admits. “You make me want things I can’t protect.”
You kiss him before he can pull away.
It’s slow at first testing. Then deeper. His hands slide fully around you, anchoring you against him like the world might fall apart if he lets go.
When he rests his forehead against your neck, his voice is barely there.
“I’m not good at sharing,” he murmurs.
You smile, brushing your thumb along his jaw. “Good thing I’m not being shared.”
જ⁀➴ ♡ Eren Yeager
You didn’t notice it at first.
Jean Braus was easy to miss that way always just there. Walking you back after late shifts. Wordlessly handing you extra rations. Standing at your side during formations like it was the most natural place in the world.
Eren Yeager, on the other hand, was impossible to ignore.
He watched you like the world might steal you if he looked away. When you spoke to Jean, Eren’s jaw clenched. When you laughed, his attention snapped to you instantly, sharp and hungry.
It was only a matter of time before it broke.
It happens after a mission dust still clinging to your clothes, adrenaline buzzing under your skin.
Jean finds you first, pressing a hand to your shoulder, eyes scanning you anxiously. “You’re bleeding.”
“It’s nothing,” you say, but you don’t pull away when his thumb brushes your skin, gentle and familiar.
Eren sees it.
“What the hell is that?” he snaps, striding toward you.
Jean stiffens. “Back off, Yeager.”
“You don’t get to touch them like that.”
Jean turns fully now, jaw tight. “Funny. They didn’t tell me to stop.”
“Eren,” you start but he’s already too far gone.
“You think you’re safer with him?” Eren says, voice shaking. “You think he’d burn the world for you?”
Jean steps closer, placing himself between you and Eren. “No,” he says evenly. “But I’d stay when it’s on fire.”
Silence crashes down hard.
Eren’s eyes flick to you, desperate. “Tell me,” he says. “If I ask you to choose right now who do you want?”
Your heart pounds.
Jean doesn’t speak. He doesn’t plead. He just waits.
“I care about you,” you tell Jean softly. “You make me feel grounded. Like I won’t fall apart.”
Jean swallows, eyes dark, hopeful but steady.
Then you turn to Eren.
“But you make me feel alive,” you whisper. “Like my heart’s already racing just to keep up with you.”
Eren steps forward, hands shaking as they grip your waist, like he can’t believe you’re real. Jean exhales slowly, looking away not angry, just resigned.
“Take care of them,” Jean says quietly.
Then he walks off, leaving the ache behind him.
For a moment, no one moves.
Then Eren’s grip tightens not possessive, not rough just real, like he’s grounding himself in the fact that you didn’t leave.
“You chose me,” he says quietly, like he needs to hear it out loud.
You nod. “I did.”
Something in him breaks not loudly, not violently but gently. His shoulders drop. His breath stutters. He leans his forehead against yours, eyes squeezed shut like he’s afraid this is a dream he’ll wake up from.
“I don’t know how to be calm about you,” he admits. “I don’t know how to love without it feeling like the world’s on fire.”
You lift your hands to his face, thumbs brushing under his eyes, steadying him. “Then don’t be calm,” you whisper. “Just be here.”
Eren opens his eyes.
They’re softer now. Still burning but warm.
He kisses you slowly, like he’s learning you. Like he’s afraid to rush and ruin it. His hands slide from your waist to your back, pulling you closer until your heartbeat lines up with his.
When he pulls back, his forehead rests against yours again.
“I swear,” he murmurs, voice low and certain, “I’ll fight the world if I have to but with you beside me. Not instead of you.”
You smile, brushing your nose against his. “That’s all I want.”
Later, when the camp quiets and the adrenaline fades, Eren sits with you beneath the stars. Your head rests against his shoulder. His arm is wrapped around you not tight, just protective.
For once, he isn’t watching the horizon.
He’s watching you.
And for the first time, the future doesn’t feel like something he has to conquer alone.
જ⁀➴ ♡ armin arlert
It doesn’t start as a triangle.
It starts as a habit.
Eren always finds you after missions breathless, intense, eyes still burning with whatever fight he hasn’t finished in his head yet. He talks fast, hands moving as he relives every moment, every near miss, every enemy he swore he’d destroy.
You listen. You always do.
Because Eren needs someone to hear him.
Armin sits with you later.
When the noise is gone. When your hands are still shaking. When you don’t know how to explain the way fear settles into your bones.
He doesn’t rush to fill the silence.
He just stays.
The shift happens on a mission gone wrong.
Smoke. Screams. Confusion.
Eren charges ahead, shouting your name ordering you to keep up, to fight harder, to move. His fear comes out sharp, desperate.
Then everything goes white.
When you wake, it’s dark and still.
Armin is there.
He’s holding your hand like he’s afraid it might disappear. His eyes are red, his voice barely steady.
“You’re safe,” he whispers. “I’ve got you.”
Later, Eren storms in, relief crashing into anger.
“You scared the hell out of me,” he snaps. “Why didn’t you move when I told you to?”
The words hit harder than the injury.
Armin stands before you can speak.
“They were hurt,” he says, quiet but firm. “They needed help, not orders.”
Eren glares at him. “You don’t get it.”
Armin doesn’t raise his voice. “I do. That’s why I stayed.”
Silence stretches thin and painful.
Eren looks at you then really looks and something in his expression falters.
“…Is that what you need?” he asks quietly. “Someone who stays?”
Your chest tightens.
“I care about you,” you say honestly. “You make me feel strong. Like I can fight anything.”
Eren nods, jaw clenched.
Then you look at Armin.
“But you make me feel like I don’t have to.”
Armin’s breath catches.
Eren steps back slowly, eyes dark, conflicted. “I don’t know how to love without turning it into a war,” he admits. “And I won’t ask you to survive that.”
He leaves without another word.
That night, Armin sits beside you, close but careful.
“You don’t have to decide everything right now,” he says softly.
“I already have,” you reply.
You reach for him first this time. His hand trembles slightly as he takes yours.
When he kisses you, it’s gentle. Certain. Like he’s choosing you with his whole heart, not his fear.
“I’ll always listen,” he promises. “Even when you don’t know how to explain.”
You rest your forehead against his.
That’s when you realize
Freedom doesn’t always mean running forward.
Sometimes, it means staying with the person who understands where you are.
જ⁀➴ ♡ Erwin Smith
He is careful. Always.
When he stands close, it is to point out troop movement. When his hand brushes yours, it is an accident he does not repeat except that it keeps happening. His voice lowers when he says your name, just enough that it feels private.
Erwin knows Levi notices.
Levi always does.
But Levi protects you in ways Erwin cannot by standing in front of blades, by adjusting your gear without asking, by offering presence instead of promises. Erwin tells himself that is enough.
It isn’t.
The confrontation is inevitable, but subdued.
“You’re crossing a line,” Levi says, not accusing warning.
Erwin doesn’t deny it. “So are you.”
Levi exhales. “They don’t need another commander. They need someone who can stay.”
Erwin’s hands curl at his sides. “And if staying means denying them a future they believe in?”
Levi’s gaze sharpens. “Don’t turn this into ideology.”
“I don’t have that luxury,” Erwin replies. “Everything I do is weighed against tomorrow.”
Levi studies him for a long moment. “Just don’t make the choice for them.”
“I won’t,” Erwin says.
He means it.
Erwin makes his choice quietly.
Before the next expedition, he calls you into his office not for strategy, but honesty. He doesn’t sit behind the desk.
“I have asked much of you,” he says. “More than was fair.”
“You never forced me.”
“No,” he agrees. “But I let you stand where the cost would be highest.”
His gaze meets yours unguarded, resolute. “If you choose to walk away from this… from me… I will accept it.”
The admission costs him more than any battlefield.
You step closer. “And if I don’t?”
His breath catches.
“Then I will stop pretending this doesn’t matter.”
Levi sees you leave the office together.
He understands.
Erwin stands with you on the wall, the world spread out beneath you in shadow and starlight.
“I don’t know if history will forgive me,” Erwin says. “But I know I want you beside me when I face it.”
You take his hand. He squeezes back once. Firm. Certain.
When he kisses you, it is not hurried. It is the release of years of restraint, of a man who has finally allowed himself to want something for himself.
Levi doesn’t interrupt.
And for the first time, Erwin Smith chooses not just the future of humanity
But the present, too.
┆ ┆ ┆ ┆ ┆ JJK - ! lust curse
┆ ┆ ࣪ ˖☆ ࣪⭑┆ ݁˖ .☆ . ݁ ˖
☆⊹ ࣪ ┆ ˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ★ ⋆.˚ ⊹ ࣪
࣪ ˖⋆˚★ ₊ ⊹ ࣪˖ ࣪ ₊ ࣪ ˖
─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─ Satoru Gojo
The curse didn’t make Gojo sloppy.
That was the problem.
He was still Gojo Satoru still composed, still untouchable, still pretending everything was under control. But you’d known him long enough to catch the subtle tells: the way his shoulders stayed a fraction too tense, how he hovered closer than necessary without actually touching you, how his jokes landed a little sharper, a little faster, like he was trying to outrun his own thoughts.
“Y’know,” he said casually as you walked, hands tucked behind his head, “if anyone asks, this is not the weirdest curse I’ve ever been hit with.”
You shot him a look. “That’s not reassuring.”
He grinned. “C’mon. At least this one isn’t trying to peel my skin off.”
Then his steps slowed.
You felt it too another pulse from the curse, warm and insistent, curling through your chest. Gojo stopped walking entirely, head tilting back slightly as he exhaled through his nose.
“…Okay,” he muttered. “That one sucked.”
“You alright?” you asked.
He turned to face you.
Too close.
Gojo froze for half a second, like he hadn’t realized how near he’d stepped. The blindfold was gone now, blue eyes sharp and unfiltered, locking onto yours with an intensity that made your breath hitch.
For once, he didn’t joke immediately.
“Yeah,” he said, softer. “Just don’t move.”
That should’ve been your cue to step back.
Instead, you stayed.
The air between you felt charged, like Infinity itself had thinned to a fragile thread. Gojo’s gaze flicked from your eyes to your lips and back again quick, almost involuntary.
He clicked his tongue.
“See, this is the part where the curse cheats,” he said lightly, though his voice was lower than usual. “Because it doesn’t make feelings. It just… turns the volume up.”
Your heart pounded. “And?”
“And I’m very aware of exactly how close we are right now.”
You could feel his cursed energy shifting, carefully restrained. He lifted a hand slow, deliberate and stopped just short of your cheek. Not touching. Never crossing the line.
You leaned in without realizing it.
Gojo noticed immediately.
His breath hitched, just barely.
“…You’re doing that on purpose, aren’t you?” he murmured, a crooked smile tugging at his mouth despite everything.
“I thought you said don’t move,” you whispered.
He laughed quietly, the sound strained but real. “Yeah. That one’s on me.”
For a moment, neither of you moved. Your noses were almost brushing. You could see every detail of his eyes now brilliant, endless, focused entirely on you.
His voice dropped.
“If I wasn’t hit by a curse,” he said, honest and dangerous all at once, “I’d still stop right here.”
Your lips were a breath apart.
The curse screamed.
Gojo closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against yours instead grounding, controlled, intimate in a way that somehow made it worse.
“Deep breaths,” he muttered. “C’mon, Satoru. You’ve resisted worse than this.”
You smiled faintly, trying to steady yourself too. “You sound like you’re convincing yourself.”
He smirked, eyes opening again. “Maybe. But hey look at us.”
He pulled back just enough to give you space, hands dropping to his sides.
“Still standing,” he said. “Still professionals.”
Then, softer just for you:
“Still choosing not to cross that line.”
The tension lingered even as he stepped away, a promise hanging heavy in the air.
And somehow, you knew
When the curse was gone?
That restraint would be harder to keep.
─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─ Suguru Geto
There were no jokes. No deflection.
Just silence.
You noticed it when he stopped walking without a word, the fabric of his robe stirring as his cursed spirits shifted uneasily around him. Geto stood still, eyes half-lidded, breathing slow and measured like he was calculating something far more complex than a battlefield.
“…That curse,” he said calmly, “latched on.”
Your chest tightened. “What kind?”
His gaze slid to you not sharp, not startled, but focused in a way that made your skin prickle.
“Desire-based,” he replied. “Persistent.”
Of course it was.
You felt it too the warmth curling low in your stomach, the sudden hyper-awareness of him: the sound of his breathing, the way his presence seemed to press closer even when he didn’t move.
Geto turned fully toward you.
Too close.
He stopped immediately, as if he’d caught himself mid-step. His expression didn’t change, but something darker flickered behind his eyes irritation, maybe, or annoyance at himself.
“You should keep your distance,” he said evenly.
You nodded. You didn’t move.
The air between you thickened, heavy with unsaid things. Geto’s cursed spirits quieted, as though sensing the shift, leaving the space between you unbearably still.
“…This curse,” he continued, voice lower now, “doesn’t create impulses. It amplifies existing ones.”
Your heart thudded painfully.
Geto’s gaze dropped just for a second to your mouth.
He noticed immediately. Looked away just as fast.
A breath escaped him, slow and controlled. “Troublesome.”
You swallowed. “You don’t sound affected.”
That earned a faint, humorless smile.
“I am,” he admitted. “I’m simply choosing not to act.”
He lifted a hand, hesitated and stopped inches from you, fingers hovering near your jaw without touching. The restraint was deliberate. Almost reverent.
“Don’t misunderstand,” he said quietly. “If I wanted to, I could ignore the curse and take what it’s urging me toward.”
Your pulse raced.
“But I won’t.”
His eyes met yours again dark, steady, intense.
“Because this,” he said, closing the distance just enough for you to feel his breath, “deserves clarity. Not coercion. Not influence.”
Your lips were a breath apart.
The curse screamed.
Geto leaned in
and stopped, resting his forehead against yours instead. The contact was light, grounding, devastating.
“Stay still,” he murmured. “If you move, I may not.”
You froze, every nerve alive.
Seconds stretched. Then Geto straightened, hand dropping back to his side like it took effort to do so.
Control restored. Walls back in place.
“We’ll have the curse removed,” he said, voice composed once more. “After that… we’ll see what remains.”
As he turned away, you caught the quiet truth beneath his calm
Whatever the curse had amplified?
It hadn’t created it.
And Geto knew it.
─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─ Kento Nanami
Nanami noticed the curse immediately.
You could tell by the way he stopped mid-step, adjusting his tie with more force than necessary. His expression remained composed, but his jaw tightened subtle, controlled, deliberate.
“…That curse,” he said evenly, “is problematic.”
That alone made your stomach drop.
“What kind?” you asked.
He didn’t answer right away. Instead, his gaze shifted to you steady, assessing, lingering a fraction longer than professional courtesy allowed.
“Lust-based,” he said at last. “Low-grade, but insidious.”
You felt it then. The warmth. The pull. The sudden awareness of how close he stood, of the quiet strength in his posture, of the way his presence always grounded you and now unsettled you.
Nanami took a step back.
“Until this is dealt with,” he continued calmly, “we maintain distance.”
You nodded. Again, neither of you moved.
The silence stretched, thick and heavy. Nanami’s cursed energy was steady, but you could sense the effort behind it like a clenched fist held just out of sight.
“This curse amplifies existing impulses,” he said, more to himself than to you. “It does not fabricate them.”
Your heart began to pound.
Nanami inhaled slowly, deeply, as if centering himself. When he stepped forward again, it was measured intentional. He stopped just in front of you, close enough that you could see the faint crease between his brows.
“You should tell me if it’s affecting you severely,” he said.
You swallowed. “I’m managing.”
His eyes softened just slightly. A dangerous thing.
“…So am I,” he admitted.
The confession hung between you, quiet and devastating in its honesty. Nanami lifted a hand, then paused, fingers hovering near your wrist without touching.
A test.
You felt the heat of him there, restraint vibrating through the space between your skin and his.
“Nanami,” you murmured.
He closed his eyes briefly.
“If I cross that boundary,” he said lowly, “I won’t pretend it was the curse alone.”
Your breaths mingled now. Your lips were impossibly close close enough that you felt the shift when he leaned in
and stopped.
Instead, his forehead rested gently against yours. The contact was light, controlled, intimate in a way that made your chest ache.
“…This is as far as I go,” he whispered. “Under influence.”
You nodded, barely breathing.
After a long moment, he pulled back, hand dropping to his side like it cost him something precious.
“We’ll have the curse removed,” he said, professionalism carefully restored. “After that…”
He adjusted his glasses, gaze unreadable once more.
“…we can speak freely.”
As he turned away, you realized the most dangerous part wasn’t the curse at all.
It was how certain you were
Nanami had wanted to stop there anyway.
─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─ Sukuna
Sukuna noticed the curse the moment it touched him.
You felt it too the air warping, pressure sinking into your chest like something had wrapped clawed fingers around your pulse. Sukuna’s laugh came low and amused, vibrating through the space you shared.
“…Oh?” he murmured. “That’s new.”
You turned just in time to see the change. His gaze sharpened not frantic, not clouded just focused. Hungry. The kind of attention that made your instincts scream and your body betray you anyway.
“What did it do?” you asked, forcing steadiness into your voice.
Sukuna stepped closer.
“Don’t play ignorant,” he said lazily. “You feel it.”
He was right. Heat coiled through you, awareness snapping painfully into place of him, of the space between you, of how little distance remained. Sukuna tilted his head, studying your reaction like an experiment.
“A lust curse,” he continued. “Crude. Effective.”
He stopped inches away.
The curse roared.
Sukuna smiled wider.
“You know,” he said softly, “most curses like this try to push.”
His fingers lifted, stopping just short of your chin. Not touching. Never rushing.
“This one only amplifies what’s already there.”
Your breath hitched. His eyes flicked to your lips slow, deliberate, unashamed.
“How unfortunate for you,” Sukuna murmured, leaning in just enough that you felt his breath brush your skin, “that I have excellent self-control.”
That should have terrified you.
Instead, your body leaned forward before your mind caught up.
Sukuna froze.
For half a heartbeat, the world held its breath.
Then he laughed quiet, dangerous, pleased.
“…Careful,” he warned, forehead nearly touching yours now. “I’m stopping because I choose to. Not because I must.”
Your lips were a breath apart. The curse screamed for him to close the distance.
Sukuna didn’t.
Instead, he lowered his voice to a murmur meant only for you.
“If I kissed you like this,” he said, eyes burning, “you’d never be able to blame the curse.”
That did it. Your resolve wavered and Sukuna felt it immediately.
He leaned in
and stopped at the last possible second, teeth grazing the air beside your cheek instead of your mouth. A deliberate denial. A promise.
“See?” he whispered. “Restraint.”
He pulled back slowly, satisfaction curling in his smile as he watched you struggle to breathe.
“When the curse breaks,” Sukuna continued casually, “we’ll see what you choose without it.”
He turned away, leaving the tension coiled tight between you like a living thing.
But the worst part?
You knew he hadn’t stepped back out of mercy.
He’d done it because knowing he could cross that line
And didn’t
Was far more entertaining.
─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─ Toji Fushiguro
Toji didn’t react right away.
That alone told you something was wrong.
He stood there with his hands in his pockets, posture loose, eyes half-lidded like he was bored but you knew better. Toji only went that still when he was assessing a threat.
“…Tch,” he clicked his tongue softly. “That curse is annoying.”
You felt it a second later. Heat blooming low and slow, awareness snapping into sharp focus of him, of the space between you, of how much heavier the air felt all at once.
“What did it do?” you asked.
Toji finally looked at you.
Really looked.
His gaze dragged over you, unhurried, unapologetic, stopping just a beat too long at your mouth. No cursed energy flared just pure, human attention. Intentional. Controlled.
“Lust curse,” he said flatly. “Cheap trick.”
He stepped closer.
Not because the curse pulled him.
Because he wanted to see how you’d react.
You didn’t move. Neither did he until the distance between you was razor-thin. You could feel his body heat, smell the faint trace of smoke and metal that always clung to him.
“Huh,” Toji murmured. “Interesting.”
Your pulse thudded. “What is?”
He leaned down slightly, forearm bracing against the wall beside your head but not trapping you. Never taking away the option to leave.
“That it’s loud,” he said. “But it’s not forcing anything.”
His face was close now. Too close. His eyes flicked to your lips, then back to your eyes like he was daring himself.
“You gonna step back?” he asked quietly.
You didn’t.
Toji exhaled through his nose, something like amusement curling at the corner of his mouth.
“…Thought so.”
The curse surged, heat spiking, begging him to close the gap. Toji leaned in
and stopped just short, lips hovering a breath from yours. Close enough that your breath hitched. Close enough that the denial hurt.
“If I kiss you right now,” he said lowly, voice rough, “you don’t get to blame the curse.”
Your heart slammed against your ribs.
He stayed there, unmoving, testing his own restraint more than yours. Then, deliberately, he rested his forehead against yours instead grounding, intimate, devastating in its simplicity.
“Yeah,” he muttered. “That’s what I thought.”
After a long moment, Toji pulled back, hand dropping from the wall. The space between you felt colder instantly.
“We’ll get it removed,” he said, already turning away. “After that…”
He glanced back over his shoulder, eyes dark and unreadable.
“…we’ll see if you still stand that close.”
And the worst part?
You knew Toji Fushiguro didn’t walk away because he had to.
He walked away because he wanted to know
What you’d choose when nothing was holding either of you back.
─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─ Megumi Fushiguro
Megumi realized something was wrong when his shikigami hesitated.
They didn’t vanish. They didn’t misbehave. They simply paused, as if responding to something in him instead of the battlefield.
“…Tch,” he muttered, hand tightening around his weapon.
You felt it seconds later a subtle warmth, spreading slowly, unsettling rather than overwhelming. It wasn’t explosive like some curses. It was insidious. Persistent.
Megumi turned toward you.
“Don’t come closer,” he said immediately.
That alone made your chest tighten.
“What is it?” you asked.
He hesitated. Megumi always hesitated when words mattered too much.
“…A desire-based curse,” he admitted quietly. “It amplifies fixation. Focus.”
His gaze flicked to you and stayed there a fraction too long before he caught himself and looked away.
You felt it then. The pull. The sudden awareness of him: his voice, low and steady; the tension in his shoulders; the way his presence always felt grounding and now dangerous in a different way.
“I’m okay,” you said. “Are you?”
Megumi exhaled slowly through his nose.
“I will be,” he replied. “As long as we don’t”
He stopped himself.
“stand this close.”
Neither of you moved.
The air between you felt heavy, like something unseen was pressing inward. Megumi’s jaw tightened. His cursed energy stayed disciplined, but his focus fractured his eyes tracking every small movement you made.
Your heart began to race.
Megumi stepped back half a pace then stopped, conflicted. His hand lifted instinctively, then froze midair, hovering near your sleeve without touching.
The restraint was painful to watch.
“…You should leave,” he said softly.
“You don’t sound like you want me to.”
His breath caught. Just barely.
“That’s the problem.”
His eyes finally met yours again dark, intense, honest to a fault. You could see the battle there, raw and unfiltered.
“If I cross that line,” Megumi said quietly, “I won’t pretend the curse made me do it.”
You stepped closer.
He didn’t retreat.
The space between you shrank to nothing. Your breaths mingled. Megumi leaned in before he could stop himself
and halted, lips a breath from yours.
So close you felt the warmth of him. So close it hurt.
His voice dropped to a whisper.
“…If you move any closer,” he said, “I won’t pull away.”
Instead, he rested his forehead against yours tentative, grounding, devastatingly gentle.
It wasn’t dominance.
It was restraint held together by will alone.
After a long moment, Megumi pulled back sharply, like breaking a spell. His hand dropped to his side, fingers curling into a fist.
“We’ll remove the curse,” he said, composure forcibly restored. “After that…”
He didn’t finish the sentence.
He didn’t need to.
Because the tension lingering between you didn’t feel temporary.
And neither of you believed it was the curse
Not really.
─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─ Yuji Itadori
Yuji knew something was wrong the second his smile faded.
That didn’t happen often.
One moment he was laughing it off like usual, brushing dust from his hoodie, the next he went quiet eyes unfocused, breath catching just a little like he’d missed a step.
“…Hey,” he said slowly. “That curse didn’t feel normal.”
You felt it too. A warm pull in your chest, sudden and confusing, like your heart had skipped ahead without asking permission.
“What did it do?” you asked.
Yuji scratched the back of his neck, nervous habit kicking in. He laughed once, short and unsure.
“Uh… okay, this is awkward,” he said. “I think it messes with attraction.”
That made your stomach flip.
Yuji glanced at you and froze.
Not staring. Not leering. Just… caught. Like his brain stalled mid-thought. His ears turned red almost instantly.
“Oh,” he breathed. “…Yeah. Definitely working.”
You swallowed. “Yuji”
“Sorry,” he blurted, taking a step back way too fast. “I didn’t mean to I mean, I wasn’t trying to”
He cut himself off, fists clenched at his sides like he was physically holding himself in place.
The thing about Yuji was that everything he felt showed. The curse didn’t make him predatory or confident it made him honest. Every emotion sat right there in his eyes.
“This curse,” he said quietly now, “it doesn’t force anything. It just makes it harder to ignore.”
The air felt thick. Charged. Yuji looked at you again, slower this time, like he was afraid of what he’d see and maybe afraid he wouldn’t look away.
“…You feel it too, don’t you?”
You nodded.
His shoulders sagged slightly, like that answered something he’d been afraid to ask.
“Okay,” he murmured. “Okay. We can handle that.”
He stepped closer then stopped himself, visibly torn. Close enough that you could feel his warmth, but not enough to touch.
“I don’t wanna mess this up,” Yuji said. “Or make you uncomfortable. If I do anything stupid, you gotta tell me, yeah?”
Your heart ached at how careful he was being.
“You’re not,” you whispered.
Yuji exhaled, relief flickering across his face then the curse surged, sudden and sharp. His breath hitched. His eyes dropped to your lips before he could stop himself.
“…Crap,” he muttered.
He leaned in without thinking
and stopped a breath away, eyes widening like he’d shocked himself.
For a split second, neither of you moved.
His voice came out barely above a whisper.
“I’m really trying not to kiss you right now.”
Your noses almost brushed. You could feel the tremor in him not hunger, not dominance just want held back by sheer will.
Yuji swallowed hard and pressed his forehead gently against yours instead.
“Sorry,” he murmured. “That was close.”
The contact was light. Warm. Devastating.
After a moment, he pulled back, cheeks flushed, determination settling in his eyes.
“We’ll get the curse removed,” he said. “And when it’s gone…”
He hesitated, then smiled soft, sincere, unmistakably Yuji.
“…If you still wanna stand that close, I won’t stop myself.”
The curse faded into the background but the feeling didn’t.
And you knew, somehow
Yuji wasn’t afraid of desire.
He was afraid of hurting you.
┊ ┊ ┊ ♡ ┊ AOT - ! Someone walking in on you two
┊ ┊ ┊ ˚ ♡
┊ ┊ ♡ ⋆ +
♡ ⋆ ┊ .
+ ♡
જ⁀➴ ♡ Levi Ackerman
You barely made it two steps inside Levi’s room before he had you pinned against the wall, his mouth crashing onto yours like he’d been holding back all day.
There was nothing gentle about it his grip was firm, grounding, thumb brushing your jaw as he tilted your head up hands tangled in your hair, deepening the kiss until your breath stuttered.
“Been waiting,” he murmured against your lips, voice low, rough in a way that shot straight through you. “Too damn long.”
Your fingers curled into his shirt, pulling him closer, and he reacted instantly pressing his body to yours, caging you in with deliberate, controlled intensity that said exactly how much he wanted you. His hands slipped under your shirt and trailed upwards.
He kissed you again, harder this time, and—
The door flew open.
“Aha! Levi, I found that report you” Hange stopped mid-sentence.
You didn’t even have time to move. Levi’s arm was still braced beside your head. Your hands were still fisted in his shirt. His hands under yours. His body was still flush against you his breath warm on your cheek.
Hange blinked once. Twice.
“Oh. Oh. Wow. That’s You know what? I didn’t see anything. I can’t see anything. I’m practically blind. Look at me. Zero vision.”
“Hange,” Levi said, voice like a knife edge, “leave.”
Hange backed into the hallway without turning around, hands raised. “Yep. I’m already gone. Door is closed. I’m a shadow. An apparition.”
SLAM. The door shut.
Silence. Your heart was still racing.
Levi looked back at you slowly, eyes darker than before like the interruption had only sharpened whatever he’d been holding back.
“Where were we?” you breathed.
His answer was barely more than a growl as he tugged you toward him, lips brushing yours again.
“Don’t worry. I didn’t forget.”
જ⁀➴ ♡ Eren Yeager
You didn’t even make it halfway into Eren’s room before he grabbed your wrist and pulled you the rest of the way inside, shutting the door behind you with a soft click.
“Eren?” You barely got the word out.
He pushed you gently but insistently back against the door, his lips finding yours like he’d waited hours for this exact moment. His kiss was warm, fierce, a little desperate, fingers threading into your hair like he needed to touch you to breathe.
You let out a soft noise, and that was it He pressed closer, his breath hot against the side of your neck.
“I shouldn’t want you this much right now,” he muttered, voice rough with tension, “but I do.”
Your hands slid up his chest, and he exhaled sharply, leaning into your touch. His mouth brushed your jaw, then your cheek, then back to your lips with a hunger that made your pulse trip over itself.
He was just lifting you slightly just enough to deepen the kiss
when the door slammed open behind you.
Connie stood there with two cups of tea. And a look of sheer, absolute regret.
“BRO WHAT NO. NOPE. I DID NOT” He immediately spun around, nearly dropping the cups.
Eren didn’t stumble. He didn’t let go of you. He didn’t even move away.
His palm slid from your hip to the door, blocking it like Connie wasn’t even there.
“Connie,” Eren said, voice terrifyingly calm. “Turn around. Walk out. Close the door.”
Connie kept staring at the wall like his life depended on it. “Yep. Doing that. Already doing that. Didn’t see anything.”
“Door,” Eren snapped.
Connie slammed it and ran.
You burst into a flustered laugh but Eren wasn’t laughing.
He was staring at the door like he wanted to break it off its hinges.
Then his eyes slid back to you slowly, heated, dark with everything the interruption had cut short.
“You okay?” he asked softly, thumb brushing your jaw.
You nodded, breath uneven.
His smirk was barely there, but it was lethal. “Good. Because I’m not done with you.”
He leaned in again, voice dropping to a whisper against your lips
“And next time… I’m locking the damn door.”
જ⁀➴ ♡ armin arlert
The training yard was empty, the sun low in the sky, casting long shadows across the sand. You and Armin had snuck behind the wall of the training area, away from prying eyes.
He pulled you close suddenly, breath ragged not from exertion, but from the words he’d been holding back all day.
“You… I’ve been thinking about you,” he whispered, voice low, trembling with a strange mix of fear and determination. “Every day. Even when I shouldn’t”
Before you could answer, he pressed his forehead to yours, hands gripping your arms gently but firmly. The air between you was electric, and your pulse jumped with every heartbeat that matched his.
“I can’t… I can’t stop thinking about it,” he muttered, voice raw. “I just… want you here. Now.”
You leaned in instinctively, brushing your lips against his. His response was immediate, desperate, like he’d been starving for this moment. Fingers tangled in your hair, thumbs pressing into your sides as if to make sure you wouldn’t vanish.
Then the door to the training shed creaked open.
“Armin? Y/N? Are you what oh!” Jean froze halfway inside, eyes wide, frozen.
Armin’s head shot up, and for a heartbeat, he looked like he might disappear from embarrassment entirely. Then he squared his shoulders, his usual timidness replaced by a sharp, protective intensity.
“Jean,” he said, voice low, deadly calm. “Close the door. Now.”
Jean’s face paled, and he backed out so fast he nearly tripped over his own feet. “I y-yeah! I didn’t see anything!” he stammered, retreating quickly.
The door slammed shut. Silence.
Armin turned back to you, chest heaving, eyes dark and intense. His hands returned to your waist, pulling you flush against him.
“You okay?” he asked, but it wasn’t really a question. His thumb brushed your jaw, and the heat in his gaze said everything he hadn’t spoken.
You nodded, biting your lip, heart racing. “Yeah… I’m fine. But wow…”
He smirked just a little, sharp and dangerous. “Good. Because I’m not letting you go… not for anyone.”
And with that, he leaned in again, pressing his lips to yours, slower this time, letting the tension linger like the quiet before a storm.
જ⁀➴ ♡ Erwin Smith
The room was dim, quiet except for your ragged breaths. You and Erwin had managed to steal a few moments after a grueling mission, and the tension between you had been building all day.
He pulled you close suddenly, one hand on your waist, the other brushing your hair back from your face. His blue eyes bore into yours, sharp, intense, almost dangerous in the way that only Erwin could be.
“You,” he murmured, voice low and deliberate, “have no idea how much I’ve wanted this… how reckless it is to think I could ignore you.”
Before you could answer, his lips brushed yours. Your fingers tangled in his coat as he pressed you firmly against the desk, jaw tight, posture rigid with contained fire. Every movement screamed control, possession, intent.
And then the door slammed open.
“H-Hey, Erwin? Y/N? Are you guys oh!” Hange froze, goggles crooked, eyes wide.
Erwin’s head snapped toward the interruption, gaze cutting sharp as a blade. The warmth and control in his voice vanished, replaced by ice-cold authority.
“Hange,” he said, slow, deliberate, voice low but lethal, “step back. Now. You have exactly five seconds to leave before”
He let the threat hang in the air, every word like steel.
Hange’s jaw dropped. “O-Okay! I uh leaving!” They backed out hastily, muttering something about not seeing anything, and slammed the door behind them.
Erwin’s eyes didn’t leave the door until he was certain it was closed. Then, almost immediately, his attention returned to you, but the intensity hadn’t left. His hand gripped your waist tighter, pulling you flush against him, his forehead resting against yours.
“You’re mine,” he said softly, dangerously, voice almost a growl. “And no one… no one interrupts that. Understand?”
You nodded, shivering under the weight of his gaze, your pulse racing.
He leaned down, lips brushing yours with deliberate, consuming heat, his hand moving possessively, as if to remind you and anyone else that you belonged here, with him, completely.
“You’ll stay,” he whispered, teeth grazing your ear, “until I say otherwise.”
┊ ┊ ┊ ♡ ┊ AOT - ! Avoidance
┊ ┊ ┊ ˚ ♡
┊ ┊ ♡ ⋆ +
♡ ⋆ ┊ .
+ ♡
જ⁀➴ ♡ Levi Ackerman
You didn’t mean for it to become a pattern. At first, you just avoided him once or twice taking a different seat at briefing, choosing patrols he wasn’t assigned to, pretending to be busy when he passed by.
But soon it became habit.
Because being around Levi Ackerman felt dangerous. Not physically emotionally. He had this way of looking right through you, as if he could see every thought you didn’t want anyone to know. And lately, every time he caught your eye, your stomach twisted with something you refused to name.
So you stayed away.
Too bad Levi noticed.
You’d been quietly sweeping the hallway when you heard his footsteps. Instinct took over you immediately turned and walked the opposite direction like you had somewhere urgent to be.
You didn’t make it three steps.
A hand closed around your wrist firm, fast, impossible to escape.
“…Finally caught you.”
His voice was low, annoyed. You froze.
Levi released your wrist only when he was sure you wouldn’t bolt. He stepped in front of you, grey eyes narrowing.
“You’ve been avoiding me.”
It wasn’t a question.
“I’ve been busy,” you said quickly.
Levi stared at you like he’d just heard the worst excuse in military history. “Busy,” he repeated flatly. “You avoid me at meals. You avoid me during drills. Hange waved in your face yesterday and you sprinted in the other direction.”
Okay, that part was true.
You sighed. “Levi, I just”
“No.” His jaw tightened. “Don’t give me some half-assed answer. Look at me.”
You did. You wished you hadn’t.
His eyes were sharp, searching, frustrated and underneath it all, something worried.
“Did I do something?” he asked quietly. “Did I say something? If I pissed you off, tell me instead of running.”
Your chest tightened. “No, you didn’t do anything.”
Levi frowned. “Then what is it?”
You hesitated. “It’s… me.”
“Tch. Obviously it’s you,” he muttered. “You’re the one acting strange.”
You almost laughed, but the tension wouldn’t let you.
“I avoid you because it’s easier,” you whispered.
His brows drew together. “Easier than what?”
“Dealing with how I feel when I’m around you.”
Silence. Thick. Heavy.
Levi blinked once, like the information took a second to process.
“…You’re joking.”
“I’m not.”
Another pause. Then a quiet exhale, almost relieved, almost irritated.
“So you like me,” Levi said, deadpan. “And your solution was to stay as far away from me as possible.”
“I panicked.”
“You think avoiding me helps?” Levi stepped closer, close enough for your heart to jump. “All you did was make me think something was wrong. That I messed up. That…” He clenched his jaw. “That I drove you off.”
Your eyes widened. “You didn’t.”
“Good.” His voice softened barely. “Because I don’t want distance between us. Not for that stupid reason.”
You swallowed. “Then what do you want?”
Levi looked at you, steady, unshaken.
“You,” he said simply. “Without all this running.”
Your breath caught.
He stepped back just enough to give you space but not enough to let you escape again.
“So,” he said, eyes locking onto yours, “are you done avoiding me?”
You nodded slowly.
“Good.” Levi’s lips twitched, the tiniest ghost of a smirk. “Because next time you try it, I’m dragging you back by the collar.”
જ⁀➴ ♡ Eren Yeager
You’d managed to avoid him for nearly a week.
Which, considering how persistent Eren Yeager could be, was nothing short of a miracle.
You changed training partners. Sat at the opposite end of the mess hall. Took extra chores, extra guard duty, extra anything that kept you out of his line of sight.
Every time you saw even a hint of messy brown hair or heard his unmistakable voice, you turned around and walked the other way.
But you should’ve known Eren doesn’t back off.
Not ever.
You were finishing your last task of the day when you heard hurried footsteps behind you.
“Hey! Y/N!”
Damn it.
You pretended you didn’t hear him and picked up the pace, but it was already too late. Eren grabbed your arm not hard, just enough to stop you.
“What the hell?” he demanded. His voice cracked between frustration and hurt. “You saw me and tried to take off again.”
You kept your eyes on the ground. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Bullshit.” His tone sharpened. “You’ve been avoiding me all week.”
You swallowed. “I’ve just been busy.”
Eren laughed short, humorless. “Right. Sure. Because every time I walk into a room and you walk out, that’s just a coincidence.”
You flinched.
Eren’s expression softened for a second. “Just tell me why,” he said quietly. “Did I do something? Did I piss you off? I can fix it, just talk to me.”
You shook your head. “It’s not you.”
“Then what is it?”
You squeezed your eyes shut. “It’s me.”
“That doesn’t tell me anything,” he snapped.
Your throat tightened. You didn’t want to say it not when you weren’t sure how he’d react. Eren was unpredictable, explosive, emotional. Saying it felt like exposing your ribs and letting him decide whether to break them.
But he was waiting. Hurt. Confused. Angry.
“I’m avoiding you because I feel too much when I’m around you,” you finally whispered.
Eren went completely still.
“…Too much?” His voice dropped, rough. “What does that mean?”
You hesitated. “It means I like you. And being around you makes it impossible to hide it.”
Eren stared at you like you’d just told him the sky was green.
“You’re serious?” he breathed.
You nodded.
Slowly, something in his expression cracked open relief, disbelief, something wild and warm.
“You idiot,” he muttered, stepping closer. “I thought you hated me. I thought I screwed up again. I thought” His jaw clenched. “I thought I was losing you.”
Your heart twisted.
“You weren’t,” you said softly.
“Well, you sure made it feel like I was.” Eren exhaled shakily. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”
“Because you’re…” You gestured weakly at him. “You’re Eren.”
He blinked. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means you feel things intensely. You get angry, you get passionate, you get… everything. And I didn’t want to get pulled into that if you didn’t feel the same.”
Eren’s hand moved to your cheek before you could step back, his thumb brushing your skin.
“I do,” he said, voice trembling with sincerity. “I do feel the same. I’ve been trying to ignore it but it’s not working. And watching you avoid me was” He bit back the rest. “It sucked.”
Your breath hitched.
“So please,” Eren whispered, “stop running away from me.”
You nodded slowly. “Okay.”
His shoulders relaxed like he’d been holding tension for days.
“Good.” His voice softened. “Because if you try to avoid me again… I’ll chase you every damn time.”
જ⁀➴ ♡ armin arlert
You’d been avoiding him for days.
And unlike Eren, who would’ve barged into your room demanding answers, or Levi, who would’ve dragged you out of hiding Armin did the opposite.
He gave you space. Too much space.
Which somehow made the guilt worse.
You slipped out of the mess hall as he entered. You switched your training time when you saw his name on the schedule. You even pretended not to hear him calling your name one afternoon.
It wasn’t because you disliked him. It was because you liked him far too much.
Armin Arlert was soft, kind, thoughtful and you had fallen headfirst for him. Every smile he gave you felt like a warm blanket and a punch to the gut at the same time. So you avoided him before your heart did something stupid.
But Armin wasn’t clueless.
He noticed. Of course he noticed.
You were hugging your knees, staring at the ground, when a shadow fell over you.
“Y/N?” His voice was quiet. Careful. “Can I sit with you?”
Your stomach dropped.
You didn’t have time to refuse. Armin slowly lowered himself beside you, maintaining just enough distance to be respectful but close enough that you couldn’t pretend you didn’t know why he was here.
For a moment, neither of you spoke.
Then, in the softest voice you’d ever heard from him:
“Did… did I do something wrong?”
Your head snapped up. “What? No Armin, no, never.”
He gave a tiny, sad smile. “Then why have you been avoiding me?”
You opened your mouth. Closed it. Words shrank in your throat.
Armin lowered his gaze. “I thought maybe I talked too much. Or maybe I made you uncomfortable somehow. Or maybe you didn’t want to spend time with me anymore.”
The idea that Armin thought that made your chest ache painfully.
“Armin,” you whispered, “that’s not it.”
He looked up at you, blue eyes full of worry. “Then what is it? I want to understand.”
You squeezed your hands together. “It’s… embarrassing.”
He gave a small nod. “I won’t push you. But I’d really like to know.”
You took a shaky breath. “I avoid you because… being around you makes me nervous.”
“Nervous?” Armin repeated, confused. “Why would I make you nervous?”
“Because I like you,” you blurted.
Silence.
Armin blinked rapidly, cheeks turning pink. “Y… you like me?”
You nodded, face burning. “And I didn’t want you to know because I didn’t want things to get weird. And I didn’t want you to feel pressured. And I didn’t want”
“Y/N.” His voice was soft but firm. “Can you look at me?”
You hesitated, then met his eyes.
He was smiling. Not confused. Not hurt. Just… relieved.
“I like you too,” Armin admitted, his voice trembling with sincerity. “I’ve liked you for a long time.”
Your breath caught. “You have?”
He nodded, laughing nervously. “I thought it was obvious. I mean Eren figured it out. Mikasa definitely figured it out.”
Your face flushed harder. “Armin… I’m so sorry for avoiding you.”
He shook his head immediately. “No. Don’t apologize. I just ... I just wanted to know what I did wrong. I didn’t want to lose you.”
“You weren’t going to lose me,” you said softly. “I just got scared.”
Armin’s shoulders softened, the tension draining from him.
“…Can I sit closer?” he asked quietly.
Your heart melted. “Yeah. Please.”
Armin scooted closer, your shoulders brushing, both of you warm and awkward and relieved.
“I’m really glad you told me,” he whispered.
You smiled. “Me too.”
He hesitated then gently intertwined his fingers with yours.
And for once… You didn’t want to run away.
જ⁀➴ ♡ Erwin Smith
You weren’t proud of it.
Avoiding Erwin Smith was nearly impossible. The man had a presence that filled every hallway, every meeting room, every inch of the Scouts’ headquarters. But somehow, you managed.
You adjusted your patrol routes. Arrived to briefings late so you could sit far in the back. Left the mess hall early when he entered. Found excuses to leave whenever he spoke directly to you.
It wasn’t disrespect far from it. It was because being near him made your chest tighten in ways you couldn’t control.
Erwin was composed, brilliant, intimidatingly charismatic… and you were hopelessly drawn to him.
So you avoided him for your own peace of mind.
Except Erwin Smith noticed everything.
You’d snuck in to file some reports when his voice echoed behind you:
“Y/N.”
You froze.
He stood in the doorway, illuminated by lantern light, uniform jacket off, shirt sleeves rolled to his elbows. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes were sharp.
“You’ve been difficult to find lately.” He stepped inside, closing the door behind him. “Intentionally so.”
Your pulse jumped.
“I’ve just been busy,” you murmured.
Erwin raised a brow. “Busy? You’ve left every room I’ve entered for the past week.”
You felt heat rise to your face. “That’s not”
“Please don’t lie to me,” he said gently, but with authority that left no room for argument.
You lowered your gaze. “I didn’t mean to cause trouble.”
“You haven’t caused trouble,” he said. “But you have caused concern.”
Your breath caught. “Concern?”
Erwin stepped closer, slow, deliberate, as though approaching a frightened animal.
“You’re one of my most capable soldiers. Your absence from discussions, from training, from… my proximity…” His voice softened. “It hasn’t gone unnoticed.”
You swallowed hard. “I just thought keeping distance was better.”
“For whom?” Erwin asked.
You hesitated. “For me.”
He studied you for a long moment too perceptive, too calm.
“And why would distance from me be necessary for your comfort?”
You clenched your jaw. “Because being around you is… difficult.”
“Difficult how?”
His tone wasn’t demanding. Just patient. Certain.
You took a shaky breath. “Because I… feel things I shouldn’t.”
That finally cracked his composure a brief flicker in his eyes, subtle but unmistakable.
“Ah,” he said quietly. “So that’s it.”
You looked away. “I’m sorry. I know it’s inappropriate.”
Erwin moved closer again until he stood directly in front of you, his height and presence overwhelming but gentle.
“Y/N,” he said in a low voice, “nothing about your feelings is inappropriate.”
You blinked up at him, stunned.
He continued, calm but sincere, “If anything, I’ve been trying to understand why you suddenly withdrew. I misinterpreted it thought I’d pushed you too hard. That I’d disappointed you somehow.”
You shook your head fiercely. “You didn’t. You could never.”
A small, almost invisible smile tugged at his lips not joy, but relief.
“Then allow me to be clear,” he said. “Your presence does not burden me. Your closeness is not unwelcome.” He paused, eyes softening. “And your feelings are not one-sided.”
Your heartbeat stuttered.
“Erwin…”
He reached out, very slowly, giving you time to stop him you didn’t and brushed his fingers against yours.
“You don’t need to avoid me,” he murmured. “You never did.”
Your breath trembled. “I thought getting too close to you would make things harder.”
Erwin’s voice dipped low, warm and steady. “Sometimes what makes things harder…” He intertwined his hand with yours. “…is exactly what we’re meant to face.”
You felt weightless.
“So,” Erwin asked softly, “will you stop running?”
You nodded, barely able to form words. “Yes.”
His thumb brushed your knuckles a gesture far more intimate coming from him than anyone else.
“Good,” he whispered. “I’ve missed you.”
just wanted to say i loveeeee ur work!!💕
┆ ┆ ┆ ┆ ┆ JJK - ! someone walks in on you two
┆ ┆ ࣪ ˖☆ ࣪⭑┆ ݁˖ .☆ . ݁ ˖
☆⊹ ࣪ ┆ ˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ★ ⋆.˚ ⊹ ࣪
࣪ ˖⋆˚★ ₊ ⊹ ࣪˖ ࣪ ₊ ࣪ ˖
AN- awhh stawppp you got me twirling my hair and kicking my feet
(｡>////<). glad you enjoy, makes my heart happy!
─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─ Satoru Gojo
It starts with him cornering you gently, but very effectively.
You’d been trying to reorganize a shelf in the supply room. Gojo had been trying to “accidentally” run into you all day.
You turn to grab a box and nearly collide with his chest.
“Satoru!”
He grins, leaning one palm against the wall beside your head. “You keep avoiding me. Again.”
“I’m literally working.”
“Working around me.”
His face is close enough that you can feel the warmth of his breath, and it completely fries your ability to think. You mutter, “Why are you like this?”
“Because you’re cute when you’re flustered.”
You open your mouth to argue, but he takes your chin lightly between his fingers, tilting your face up to his.
And your brain? Gone. Absolutely gone.
His voice drops to a whisper. “Let me see you. You never look at me long enough.”
Your heart is doing acrobatics. His thumb strokes your cheek, and suddenly the whole room feels too small, too warm.
You grab the front of his jacket without thinking, pulling him down that extra inch.
His lips brush yours soft, slow, barely there.
And just as you’re about to kiss him properly
The door slams open.
“HEY has anyone seen...WHAT THE HELL?!”
It’s Yuji. Standing in the doorway. Frozen. Staring.
Gojo doesn’t move. Doesn’t even flinch.
He just looks over his shoulder and says, in the most bored tone imaginable:
“Yuji. Sweetheart. Get out.”
Yuji flails so hard he nearly hits the doorframe. “I-I DIDN’T SEE ANYTHING! Actually I saw too much! I’m leaving! You two uh continue? Or don’t continue! Actually don’t tell me I’M GONE.”
The door slams shut again.
Silence.
You stand there mortified, face burning, hands still gripping Gojo’s jacket. He’s smiling.
Smirking.
“You were really going to kiss me,” he muses, eyes gleaming with delight.
You shove his chest lightly, embarrassed. “We’re never speaking of this again.”
“Oh, we’re absolutely speaking of this,” he says, leaning closer again. “Every day. Forever. Want me to go chase him down and tell him it was all your idea?”
“Satoru, I swear!”
He laughs, catching your wrist and pulling you gently against him.
“Relax. He’s too traumatized to mention it to anyone.”
You groan, burying your face in his chest.
Gojo’s hand comes up to stroke your back, soft and warm.
“Now,” he murmurs, tilting your chin up again, “where were we before the interruption?”
You just stare at him, flustered beyond saving.
And he smiles like you’ve made his whole week.
─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─ Suguru Geto
You don’t know how you ended up backed against a wooden sliding door with Suguru Geto standing inches from you.
One moment you were helping him sort charms and protective talismans. The next… you made the mistake of brushing his hand.
Just a light touch.
Barely anything.
But Geto looks at you like you touched the inside of his soul.
“Careful,” he murmurs, voice low. “You’ll make me think you’re doing that on purpose.”
Your breath stutters. “I wasn’t.”
“Mm. Shame.” His lips curl into that calm, devastating smile. “I wouldn’t mind if you were.”
He cages you in not aggressively, just enough to make your pulse jump one hand braced above your head, the other tracing a slow line down your arm. Soft. Intimate.
You swear he can feel your heart racing through your skin.
“Suguru…” you whisper.
“Yes?” He leans closer, forehead nearly touching yours. “Use your words.”
You swallow hard. “You’re too close.”
“And yet,” he murmurs, “you haven’t moved.”
He brushes a loose strand of your hair behind your ear with excruciating gentleness like you’re precious, like he’s memorizing you.
Your breath catches entirely when his thumb grazes your jaw.
He’s about to kiss you. You know it. He knows it.
He tilts your chin up
BANG.
The door slams open behind you, sending you stumbling forward directly into Geto’s chest.
A voice shrieks, “SUGURU have you seen OH MY GOD.”
Shoko stands in the doorway, eyes wide, cigarette between her fingers mid-raise.
You and Geto both freeze.
Shoko blinks. “…Am I interrupting something?”
Geto sighs like he’s been inconvenienced by the universe itself.
“Shoko,” he says calmly, hands still on your waist, “I am two seconds away from throwing you out that window.”
Shoko snorts. “Relax. I just came for a lighter. I didn’t expect you to be” she waves her hand vaguely at the two of you, “busy.”
You want to die on the spot.
Suguru? He doesn’t let go of you.
He looks down at you with a slow, wicked smile. Unbothered. Too composed. Too confident.
“Now she knows,” he murmurs softly against your ear, “I like you.”
Your face heats instantly. “Suguru!”
Shoko backs out slowly, muttering, “Yeah, I’m definitely telling Satoru.”
Suguru’s grip tightens protectively around your waist.
“No,” he calls after her, “you’re not.”
She cackles down the hall.
You bury your face in his chest. “I can’t show my face ever again.”
He laughs quietly, warm hand stroking your back. “You can hide here as long as you want.”
You look up at him.
He leans in, nose brushing yours.
“No interruptions this time,” he whispers.
─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─ Kento Nanami
It starts during cleanup after a mission.
You’re both in an empty classroom, reorganizing files and supplies scattered by a minor curse. Nanami works quietly, sleeves rolled up, tie loosened just slightly which is dangerously distracting.
He notices your gaze. Of course he does.
“Is something the matter?” he asks without looking up.
“No,” you say too quickly. “Just tired.”
Nanami hums, a soft, skeptical sound. “Mm. You say that, but your body language suggests otherwise.”
You choke on air. “My what?”
He finally turns toward you, stepping closer, his expression unreadably calm in that Nanami way.
“You’ve been avoiding my eyes all afternoon,” he says. “And you’ve dropped that folder three times.”
“It was twice,” you mutter.
“Three.” He pauses. “Are you uncomfortable around me?”
You blink up at him, startled. “No! I...It’s the opposite.”
Nanami’s brows lift just slightly. “…The opposite?”
You inhale sharply. You didn’t mean to say that out loud.
Nanami takes one slow step forward. Then another.
His voice lowers, deep and quiet, the way it gets when something actually matters to him.
“Please clarify,” he says. “I don’t want to misinterpret you.”
You can barely speak. “You… make me nervous.”
He stops directly in front of you close enough that you can see the gentle gold in his eyes behind the glasses, close enough that he reaches out and, with uncharacteristic softness, tucks a piece of dust-covered hair behind your ear.
“Nervous,” he repeats, voice nearly a whisper. “Is that so.”
Your breath trembles. “Nanami…”
“Yes?”
“You’re… very close.”
He looks down at the space between you which is practically nonexistent then back up at your face.
“Would you like me to step back?” he asks honestly.
You hesitate. Just a second too long.
Nanami notices.
He leans in, just barely, the faintest brush of his forehead against yours, his hand hovering near your waist but not touching unless you allow it.
“I need you to tell me if this is unwelcome,” he murmurs.
You swallow. “…It’s not.”
Something shifts in his expression barely-there relief, soft warmth, the quiet intensity he never shows anyone else. His lips part like he’s about to say something more, or maybe even close the last inch between you—
The door flies open.
“HEY, NANAMI—” Yuji bursts in at full volume. “do you know where the...OH MY GOD DID I JUST INTERRUPT WHATEVER THAT WAS?!”
You jerk back so fast you almost trip over a chair.
Nanami turns toward Yuji with the deadest expression any human has ever worn.
“Yuji,” he says slowly, “please leave.”
Yuji slams the door shut immediately.
A muffled, frantic “SORRY!” echoes down the hallway.
Silence settles again, awkward and hot.
You let out a mortified groan. “I want to disappear.”
Nanami sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “This is… not how I envisioned that moment going.”
You laugh weakly. “You envisioned it?”
He looks away, ears actually turning pink. Just a little.
“I may have considered it,” he admits quietly.
Your heart flips.
Nanami steps closer again not too close, not pushing anything, just near enough to show he isn’t stepping away from what almost happened.
“We can talk about this later,” he says gently. “Properly. Privately.”
And then, even more softly:
“Unless… you’d like to continue now?”
─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─ Sukuna
You’re alone in one of the old storage rooms at Jujutsu High, cleaning up after training. Or you think you’re alone.
You feel the shift before you hear it the air thickening, the faint crackle of cursed energy sliding over your skin like cold fingers.
Then
A hand grips your waist and pulls you back sharply.
You gasp, twisting
But it’s him.
Sukuna.
Ink markings coil across Yuji’s skin, but the posture, the grin, the oppressive aura It’s all him.
“Well, well,” he purrs, voice dripping amusement, “look who wandered off alone.”
You scowl. “Sukuna let go.”
He crowds you against the wall, one palm landing beside your head, the other still holding your waist like he owns it.
“Funny,” he murmurs. “You never complain until I’m too close to ignore.”
“I ALWAYS complain.”
“And yet…” He leans down, lips almost brushing your ear, “you’re trembling.”
You are. Damn him.
Sukuna smirks, a slow and devastating thing. “I like the way your body answers before you do.”
You shove at his chest, but it only triggers a low laugh.
“Trying to push me?” His hand trails up your spine, deliberate and slow. “Or trying to see how far I’ll go?”
Your breath stutters.
He tilts your chin up with one clawed finger. “Look at me when I talk to you.”
You do reluctantly and his eyes gleam with victory.
He leans in, closer, closer
The door slides open.
“(Y/N)? Are you in”
Megumi freezes in the doorway.
Absolutely freezes.
His eyes widen. His jaw tightens. His soul leaves his body.
“…No,” Megumi says flatly. “No, absolutely not.”
You and Sukuna both turn to look at him.
Megumi is already rubbing the bridge of his nose. “I’m leaving. I didn’t see that. I didn’t see ANYTHING.”
Sukuna’s grip tightens on your waist possessively.
“Tch. Brat,” he mutters. “Get out before I remove a limb.”
Megumi glares actually glares but he steps back slowly.
“I am reporting NOTHING,” he mutters to himself. “I didn’t walk in on that. I refuse.”
He shuts the door.
Silence.
Sukuna looks down at you again, expression curling into wicked amusement.
“…Interrupted twice now,” he murmurs, brushing a thumb over your cheek. “How unfortunate.”
You’re mortified. “He’s never going to let me live this down.”
“Oh, he won’t mention it,” Sukuna says. “He’s too afraid.”
Your heart pounds.
Sukuna leans in again, lips almost touching yours.
“We’re not finished,” he whispers. “Next time, choose a room with a lock.”
─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─ Toji Fushiguro
You’re alone in an empty training hall, cleaning up equipment after hours. The lights are dim, the air still, and you’re trying very hard to ignore the feeling that someone’s watching you.
You stack a mat, turn to reach for the next
A strong arm snakes around your waist, hauling you back against a solid chest.
A low voice brushes the shell of your ear.
“Jumpier than I remember.”
You gasp. “Toji!?”
He laughs quietly, the sound warm and dangerous. “Relax. If I wanted to kill you, you wouldn’t have heard me.”
“That doesn’t make me feel better.”
“You didn’t look scared.” His hand slides from your waist to your hip, gripping just enough to make your breath catch. “You looked… nervous.”
You try to glare at him, but he’s too close. His presence is overwhelming the heat of him, the scent of steel and sweat, the way he leans down so you can feel his breath against your neck.
“You’re supposed to be gone,” you manage.
“Mm. Didn’t feel like leaving.” His lips curve into a smirk, brushing dangerously close to your skin. “Especially not when you’re walking around all alone like this.”
“Toji..”
He cages you against the wall with his body, one hand braced beside your head, the other tugging you even closer. He tilts your chin up with two fingers, forcing your eyes to meet his.
“Why’re you trembling?” he murmurs.
“I’m cold.”
“You’re lying,” he says immediately, voice thick with amusement.
You shove his chest lightly. “You need to back up.”
He smirks and leans closer.
“Why? You don’t want me to.”
His eyes drop to your lips slow, deliberate, hunting and he’s so close your heart is beating for him.
He’s about to press his forehead to yours
The door slams open.
A voice breaks through the tension:
“Yo—did someone leave their” The stranger stops dead. It’s Shoko.
She freezes, cigarette hanging loosely between her fingers as she takes in the sight of YOU pinned between TOJI and the wall.
“…Oh,” Shoko says slowly. “Absolutely not. No. I’m not dealing with this.”
You jump away instantly. Toji doesn’t move. Not even an inch.
Shoko points at him. “You are banned. Immediately. I don’t care from what you’re banned.”
Toji snorts. “Didn’t know you had the authority, doc.”
“I don’t,” she says, lighting her cigarette. “But I’m invoking it anyway.”
You want to sink through the floor.
Shoko sighs, rubbing her temple. “You know what? I’m walking out and pretending I didn’t see any of this. Figure out your life choices.”
She closes the door. Gently. Like she’s trying not to trigger a curse.
Silence.
You’re mortified.
Toji is smirking like he won something.
“Well,” he drawls, stepping toward you again, “she didn’t tell me to stop.”
“Toji!”
His hand catches your wrist before you can flee.
“Running, huh?” His voice drops low, dark, teasing. “Don’t bother. I’ll catch you.”
Your pulse kicks up. He leans in one more time, close enough to whisper:
“We’re not done.”
─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─ Megumi Fushiguro
The dojo is empty. Quiet. Megumi thinks you’ve already gone back inside, so when you double back to return his water bottle, you catch him alone leaning against the wall, shirt clinging slightly with sweat, breathing still a bit heavy from training.
He blinks when he sees you. “Oh. You’re still here.”
You hold up the bottle. “You forgot this.”
He steps toward you to take it… but instead of grabbing it calmly like a normal person, his fingers brush yours lingering, almost on purpose.
Your body reacts before your brain does.
He notices immediately.
Megumi’s breath catches. His eyes flick up to yours, darker than before, something warm and nervous tightening the air between you.
“Are you… okay?” he asks quietly.
“I’m fine,” you say too fast.
He steps in, closer. Close enough that your backs of your hands brush. Close enough that you feel his heat.
“Liar,” he murmurs.
Your heart stops.
His hand lifts hesitantly then rests lightly on your waist. Not forceful. Not aggressive. But intimate enough that it steals your breath.
“You don’t have to pretend around me,” he says softly, his forehead almost touching yours. “If you’re nervous… I am too.”
You swallow.
“Megumi…”
“Yeah?”
“You’re… really close.”
He exhales shakily. “I know.” But he doesn’t move away.
Instead, his other hand comes up, brushing a stray hair away from your face. His fingers graze your cheek, slow, careful like he’s terrified to hurt you but even more terrified to let go.
His eyes drop to your lips. Not kissing. Just looking. Just wanting.
That warm pressure on your waist tightens slightly.
“Can I…?” he whispers, leaning in a fraction.
You nod before you can stop yourself.
Megumi’s lips barely ghost yours not even a full kiss, just the warm press of almost-touching, almost giving in
The world explodes with sound.
“OH? HELL YES! WHAT DO WE HAVE HERE?”
Megumi jerks back like he’s been electrocuted.
You whip around.
Gojo Satoru stands in the doorway with both hands on his hips, sunglasses crooked, looking like he just discovered treasure.
Megumi is bright red. Like. Neon-sign red.
“SENSEI” Megumi’s voice cracks. “WHY ARE YOU HERE.”
Gojo beams. “I FELT A DISTURBANCE IN THE FORCE specifically, Megumi ALMOST having game.”
“GET OUT!” Megumi snaps so loudly the windows shake.
Gojo fans himself dramatically. “Wow, wow, calm down Romeo. I only came to ask if you guys wanted...WAIT WERE YOU ABOUT TO KISS?”
“SENSEI.”
“OH MY GOD YOU WERE.”
“SENSEI LEAVE.”
Gojo points at you. “And YOU bad decisions. I respect it. Continue.”
“DO NOT ENCOURAGE THEM,” Megumi hisses, mortified beyond repair.
Gojo slowly backs out the door, hands up like he’s at gunpoint. “Alright, alright, continue your forbidden romance. I’ll pretend I didn’t see ANYTHING except I absolutely saw EVERYTHING.”
He disappears.
Silence.
Megumi covers his face with both hands. “I’m moving to a different country.”
You step closer, touching his arm gently. “He didn’t ruin it.”
Megumi looks up, cheeks still flaming.
“…So we can try again?”
Your heart does a full somersault. “Yeah. We can.”
Megumi exhales relieved, flustered, and quietly happy.
“Good,” he murmurs. “Because I wasn’t done.”
─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─ Yuji Itadori
Yuji wasn’t supposed to look at you like that.
Not with his back against the wall of the empty training room, chest rising and falling, pink cheeks flushed from sparring. Not with that quiet, breathless smile that said he’d finally caught you, both literally and not.
Your fingers were still wrapped around his wrist from where you’d pinned him. You should’ve let go. You didn’t.
“Y/N,” he murmured, voice rougher than usual, “you’re, uh… really close.”
You were. Way too close. Your knees bracketed his thighs, your faces inches apart, your breath mixing with his.
“Maybe you shouldn’t let me win then,” you teased, not moving back.
Yuji swallowed, his eyes dropping to your lips for a half-second just long enough to make heat pulse through you.
“That wasn’t I didn’t you’re distracting,” he murmured, hands hovering awkwardly at your waist as if he wanted to touch you but wasn’t sure he was allowed.
You leaned just a little closer. His fingers finally settled lightly against your hips.
The air tightened.
Yuji’s breath hitched. Your nose brushed his. His grip on you tightened
“Hey, you two done flirting or should I come back later?”
You catastrophically launched yourself away from Yuji.
Gojo Satoru stood in the doorway like he had every right to appear out of thin air, sunglasses half-lowered, grin absolutely feral.
Yuji looked like a tomato that had also been struck by lightning.
“I- we- it wasn’t-!” Yuji sputtered, hands flailing in front of him.
Gojo tilted his head, pretending to think. “Hm. Should I tell Megumi? Or Nobara? Or maybe record this moment for educational purposes?”
“GOJO-SENSEI, PLEASE LEAVE!” Yuji shouted, mortified.
Gojo made a dramatic sigh. “You kids have no appreciation for art.”
Then he winked at you winked and disappeared out the door.
Silence.
Yuji covered his face with his hands, groaning loudly into his palms. “Kill me. Just actually kill me.”
You stepped closer, nudging his shoulder with a soft laugh. “Hey… we can always try again. Preferably when Gojo isn’t lurking.”
Yuji peeked at you through his fingers, cheeks flaming.
“…You wanna try again?”
You smiled. “Maybe.”
And the look Yuji gave you hopeful, nervous, heated made you think you definitely would.
