eren looks sketchiest bc they're on the battlefield. Mikasa looks shakier bc it's an emotionally charged moment. While armin looks cleanest because it's a memory he won't forget. (or maybe the gap in quality is unintentional and i'm bullshitting)
and here we are! i know i promised a christmas illustration but i did it on new year's lol, i made EMA before finished the year! thank you very much for still being there although my posts are not so constant, i love you all very much! happy new year! 🎁🎄
crush!armin x reader (erens pov)
synopsis: eren catches his best friend armin staring at you — his little sister. at first he’s confused, then horrified, then way too protective. but when he realises you’re staring back just as softly… things get complicated fast. now eren has to decide whether to threaten armin, support him, or both.
setting: canon-verse
warnings: protective eren, comedic threats, mutual pining,
a/n: i swear eren wrote this with his fists. armin is stressed. you’re flustered. i’m just here for the chaos. enjoy <3
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It started innocently enough. Eren was walking past the common room, thinking about drills, the walls of the barracks, and the endless cycle of training schedules, when he noticed Armin.
Armin was sitting at the table, notebook open, scribbling furiously like always, but every few seconds, his eyes flicked up — toward you.
You were leaning against the wall near the window, quietly reading, the sunlight catching your hair just so. Your expression was calm, serene, like nothing could touch you — and yet, somehow, it made Eren’s chest tighten.
At first, he froze. What the hell is he doing?
Then it clicked.
Eren stormed over without thinking, grabbing Armin’s shoulder firmly. The sudden movement made Armin jump.
“Armin! What… what the hell are you doing?” Eren’s voice was low, dangerous, every word sharp as a blade.
“W-What are you doing, Eren!” Armin stammered, fumbling with his notebook as if it could shield him from Eren’s glare.
“You’re staring at her! Don’t even try to deny it!” Eren growled. “Do you even realise how inappropriate that is? She’s my little sister. My sister! You’re supposed to be my best friend, not… not this. Not this way!”
“You’re looking at her like she’s… I don’t even know!” Eren’s fists clenched. “Like she’s something that you can just… I don’t know… take or whatever. Do you even hear me? If you hurt her in the slightest, if you even make her cry, I swear I will—”
“I… I like her,” Armin admitted quietly, his voice small, almost apologetic. “I’ve liked her for a long time. I’ve never tried anything, I swear. I just… I want her to be happy. That’s all. I just want her to be safe and… happy.”
Eren blinked, taken aback. Confusion, frustration, then a grudging understanding.
“…you just want her to be happy?”
“Yes! That’s it, Eren. I promise. I would never hurt her. I could never. I… I don’t want to make things complicated. I just…” Armin’s words trailed off, his hands twisting the notebook. “…I care about her. And I care about you, Eren. I would never do anything to hurt either of you.”
Eren’s eyes narrowed. He studied his best friend, searching for any hint of deceit. There was none. Reluctantly, he let go, though his chest remained tight, fists still curled slightly.
“Don’t screw this up,” he muttered, voice low and rough. “I’m not saying I don’t trust you, Armin, but if you hurt her… if you even make her cry… you won’t survive it. Do you understand me?”
“I… I understand,” Armin said quietly, voice shaking. “I won’t hurt her. I promise. I swear on my life, Eren.”
“Good,” Eren said, still tense. “Now, when the time comes, you need to be honest with her. Don’t waste time. Don’t be afraid. If you care about her… prove it. Protect her. Don’t do anything that would break her heart.”
Armin swallowed hard, nodding. “…I will, Eren. I swear I will.”
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Weeks passed. Life continued as usual — drills, missions, training — but Eren couldn’t stop noticing. Subtle glances, little smiles, quiet interactions that shouldn’t have meant anything but did.
Then one afternoon, he caught it again. Armin, just for a moment, stealing a glance at you when he thought no one was looking. His chest tightened.
And then — the unthinkable — he caught you.
Your eyes flicked to Armin, a soft, subtle gaze, careful not to be obvious. The tilt of your head, the faint curl of your lips, the way your chest seemed to tighten ever so slightly… Eren’s protective instincts flared hotter than ever.
Both of you liked each other. And neither had the courage to admit it.
Eren gritted his teeth. “…figures.”
That evening, he cornered Armin again outside the training yard. Shadows stretched long across the ground. Armin froze the moment Eren approached, hands twitching nervously.
“Sit,” Eren said, voice low, dangerous, hands gripping the edge of the bench. “We need to talk. Don’t look away, don’t think about excuses, just… listen.”
Armin nodded immediately, swallowing. “…O-okay.”
“You like her. I know you do. I’ve seen it, and I’ve seen the way she looks at you too,” Eren began, voice tight. “…and I get it, Armin. I know you’re scared. I know you don’t want to ruin things — not with me, not with her. But that’s exactly why you need to be honest. Do you understand me?”
Armin nodded, voice barely above a whisper. “…yes. I understand. I don’t want to ruin anything… I just… I don’t know if she… if she even—”
“She likes you, too!” Eren snapped, eyes narrowing. “I’ve seen it, Armin. She looks at you like she can’t help herself, like she’s terrified and thrilled all at once. She’s afraid of what might happen if she says something, just like you. But that doesn’t give you an excuse to hide your feelings! Don’t waste any more time.”
Armin’s lips parted, his eyes wide. “E-Eren… I… I want to. I want to tell her. But I… I don’t know how. What if I screw it up?”
Eren leaned closer, voice low, dangerous, but controlled. “Then you’re a fool. You need to step up, Armin. If you love her, you fight for her. If you care about her, you protect her. And if you hurt her? You. Will. Answer. To me. Personally. You get that?”
Armin’s hands shook slightly, but he nodded. “…I get it, Eren. I promise. I won’t hurt her. I swear I’ll do everything right.”
Eren’s chest eased slightly, but his gaze never left him. “Then go. Be honest. Tell her how you feel. Don’t waste another second. If you love her, don’t just sit there like a coward. Prove it. Protect her. Care for her. And if you fail… you’ll regret it every day for the rest of your life. Understand?”
Armin’s voice was quiet, almost reverent. “…I understand. Thank you, Eren. I won’t fail her. I won’t.”
Eren straightened, fists unclenching slowly, but his eyes were still sharp. “If anything happens… I’ll be watching. And you won’t like the consequences if you screw up. Got it?”
“…got it,” Armin whispered.
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Even after that, Eren couldn’t stop noticing the tiny things. The subtle glances, the way your laughter softened when Armin said something awkward, the way your eyes lingered on him when he wasn’t paying attention.
Eren gritted his teeth, crossed his arms, jaw tight. You liked him. He liked you. Both too afraid to say anything.
And Eren knew one thing: he would protect you, no matter what. He would make sure Armin never hurt you, and he would make sure the two of you found a way to be together — if only because he refused to see either of you get hurt.
For now… Eren would watch. And he would wait. And when the time came… he would make sure that you and Armin could find each other safely, under his watchful, furious, but approving gaze.
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a/n: no brains were used in the making of this fic. only vibes
reading holiday stories to you by the fire with...
Armin Arlert
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The fire crackles gently in the hearth, painting the room in soft amber light. Outside, snow drifts lazily against the window, but inside, it feels like a small world created just for the two of you. You’re curled up on a thick rug, blanket wrapped tightly around your shoulders, a steaming mug of cocoa warming your hands. Armin sits close beside you, knees tucked under him, a worn holiday storybook resting on his lap.
“Which story do you want first?” he asks softly, eyes meeting yours with that careful, thoughtful gaze he always has. There’s a faint blush coloring his cheeks, subtle but impossible to miss. Every time he looks at you like that, it makes your chest tighten.
“I trust you,” you whisper. “Surprise me.”
Armin’s smile is quiet, but it reaches his eyes, warm and gentle. He opens the book with care, and the moment he begins reading, the world outside seems to vanish. His voice is soft, steady, and deliberate, each word infused with care. It’s the kind of voice that makes you feel safe, cherished, like the two of you are the only people in existence.
As he reads, you notice the little things—how his fingers gently hold the book, the way he occasionally glances at you to see if you’re following, the faint crease of concentration on his forehead when he hits a tricky word. You reach over and touch his hand lightly. He glances down at you, and for a moment, his soft smile falters into something more—something tender, intimate, almost shy.
“You like this part, don’t you?” he murmurs quietly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.
You nod, smiling. “I do… and you make it sound so… magical.”
He laughs softly, the sound warm and light, and leans closer so your shoulder presses against his. “I just want you to enjoy it,” he says, voice barely above a whisper. “Stories are better when they’re shared, and… when I can see you smile.”
Your heart twists a little at the words, because there’s so much meaning in them. Not just the stories, not just the cozy room or the fire—him. His attention, his care, the way he notices you in every small way. He’s present, really present, and it’s a kind of warmth you’ve never known before.
Minutes slip by in soft, perfect silence, marked only by the gentle cadence of his voice and the occasional pop from the fire. You lean closer, head resting against his shoulder, and he shifts slightly to make room, draping his arm around you. You can feel the steady warmth of him—the quiet assurance of someone who would never let anything hurt you if he could help it.
He pauses mid-sentence at one point, just long enough to look down at you with a vulnerability you rarely see. “You know,” he says, voice trembling ever so slightly, “I always think about you. Even when I’m reading or doing something else, you’re the first thing I want to come home to… the first thing I want to see.”
You press closer to him, heart fluttering, and he rests his head gently against yours, brushing his lips against your temple. “I want you to know,” he continues, “that you’re… more than enough. You’re everything. And I don’t just mean when we’re here, by the fire… I mean always.”
Tears prick at your eyes—not from sadness, but from the depth of emotion, the overwhelming comfort of being truly seen and loved. “Armin…” you murmur.
He tilts his head, brushing his nose against yours in a soft, tender gesture. “Shh,” he whispers. “Don’t say anything. Just… feel it. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”
The fire continues to flicker, the snow outside drifts silently, and for the first time in a long while, the world feels perfect. Because right here, right now, curled up beside Armin, hearing his soft voice, feeling his steady warmth and quiet devotion, you realize something important: he’s not just reading the stories. He’s giving you one—one that you’ll carry forever. A story of love, care, and the kind of quiet happiness that feels eternal.
And as he closes the book gently, resting it on his lap, he lifts his hand to brush your cheek, thumb lingering as if memorizing the curve of your face. “I love you,” he whispers, almost shyly. “More than anything. More than these words could ever say.”
You tilt your head up, pressing your lips to his, and for a moment, nothing else exists. No snow, no fire, no books—just you and Armin, and the perfect warmth of being home.
