꩜ synopsis: a harmless campus interview turns your best friend into an overnight internet sensation—and suddenly, every thirsty TikTok comment feels like it’s whispering your secret.
☆ art cred: @/juvianism on instagram :3
You nearly spill your coffee all over your Political Theory textbook when you unlock your phone. Another two hundred comments on that TikTok. You know you shouldn't check—you probably watched it about a million times yesterday alone—but your fingers move before your brain can scream at you to stop.
@/bookslvt01: ok but the way he talks about virginia woolf??? NEED HIM CARNALLY
@/colossalthighs: i’d let him annotate my entire body fr
@/arlertmeout: he looks like he apologises before choking you
You bite your lip, half-entertained and half-horrified, scrolling through the endless comments under what was supposed to be an innocent campus interview. The video has 2.3 million views now, completely insane for something filmed outside the modest main library—the same one you find yourself in at the moment—on a random Tuesday.
"Ugh, don’t tell me. You're watching it again, aren't you?"
Your head snaps up comically quick, caught red-handed, to find Sasha sliding into the seat across from you at your usual table, eyeing your phone screen with knowing amusement.
"What? No."
"You are! You have that weird, glazed look in your eyes. The same one you get when Professor Ackerman extends the deadline for our research papers." Sasha unwraps what appears to be her third sandwich of the day. You don't mention how it’s only twelve in the afternoon. "You know you could just talk to him about it, right? He's literally one of your best friends."
"And say what exactly?" you finally close the godforsaken app, trying to ignore how your screen time report is definitely going to be embarrassing this week. "Hey Armin, I've watched your viral video more times than I can remember and I'm having very inappropriate thoughts about your tongue piercing that I absolutely shouldn't be having about my friend?"
Sasha snickers, a piece of lettuce tumbling to the table from her mouth. "Well, when you put it like that... actually, yes. One hundred percent that."
"Sasha, I can't just—" you frown in frustration, inhaling deeply. "It's complicated."
"How is it complicated? You've had a crush on him since freshman year."
"That was different. That was before we became friends. Before I knew him." You lean back in your chair, staring at the ceiling as fond memories overwhelm you. "Back then he was just this cute, nerdy guy in my intro psych class who got excited about statistical analysis and always smelled like that vanilla body wash I love. I used to sit behind him just to watch him get all animated during discussions about cognitive behavioural theory, you know?"
Sasha merely rolls her eyes. "Jesus, and you call me demented. Well, what about now?"
"Now? Now, he's Armin. He's my friend who stays up until 3 A.M. to help me with my assignments, who brings me soup when I'm sick, who texts me the dumbest memes about historical figures," you slump forward, close to pouting. "He's the guy who spent six hours teaching me how to play that MMO he's obsessed with just because I mentioned being bored over winter break. He's..."
"He's the guy you're infatuated with," Sasha supplies helpfully.
"I'm not," you start to protest, then wisely opt to give up instead. "Okay, maybe. But that's exactly the problem. I can't risk blowing up our friendship just because some stupid interview made me realise I want to climb him like a tree."
"A tree with a tongue piercing," Sasha adds with a cheeky grin.
"Fuck’s sake, don't remind me," you let your head rest against the table. "Do you know how many times I've replayed that two-second clip where he licks his lips? It's pathetic."
"It's not pathetic, it's kind of sweet. There's a difference." Sasha takes another bite of her sandwich, her eyes evidently lighting up. "Besides, you don't know that he doesn't feel the same way. Have you seen how he looks at you during our study sessions? Boy's got it bad."
"He looks at me like a friend, Sasha. Because that's what we are."
"Believe me, friends don't look at friends the way he looked at you last Friday when you were explaining your thesis argument. I thought he was going to combust from sexual tension."
Before you can blatantly disagree, you hear an all too familiar voice behind you.
"Sexual tension about what now?"
Your stomach drops directly through the floor. You turn around carefully, and there he is—Armin Arlert, campus's newest digital sensation, standing there with that signature bemused expression he gets when he catches you and Sasha gossiping. His blonde hair is mussed like he's been running his hands through it, and he's wearing that adorable blue sweater that brings out his eyes deliciously.
"Oh, um..." You scramble for an explanation, panicking on the inside. "We were just talking about... about..."
"About how Professor Ackerman's lectures are basically academic foreplay," Sasha jumps in smoothly. "All that tension and buildup with no satisfying conclusion. I mean, hello?"
Armin laughs, the sound warm and comforting. "That's fascinatingly accurate, I’ll admit." He shifts his weight, and you only then notice he's carrying his laptop bag and what seems to be a bag of takeout. "Mind if I join you? I brought Thai food and figured you might be hungry since you've been here since—," he checks his phone, "—9 A.M., according to the text you sent complaining about how it’s criminal that the library opens so early on weekends."
Your heart does a little flip at his consideration. "You didn't have to do that."
"I wanted to." He slides into the chair next to you, close enough that you can smell his cologne—a rich blend of velvety caramel and toasted cinnamon that positively makes you want to lick him all over.
Stop. None of that, you horny bastard.
"Besides, I figured you might want to hear about the latest developments in my accidental internet fame."
Sasha perks up at once. "Hell, yeah. Have you been recognised on campus yet?"
"Five times yesterday," Armin appears to lament, pulling containers out of the bag. "Including once in the bathroom, which was... awkward, to say the least." He hands you your usual order without asking what you want. "But the weirdest part is definitely the DMs."
"DMs?" you pipe up, failing to ignore how domestic this feels what with him knowing exactly what you like. Typical, precious Armin.
"You have no idea," he opens his laptop and turns it toward you two with a nervous twitch. "I've gotten marriage proposals, offers to 'show me a good time,' and at least a hundred messages asking about my tongue piercing specifically."
Your face burns as you push away the thought that you've been mentally composing similar messages. "That's... wow."
"The worst part is, most of them are asking if I'd be interested in demonstrating its uses." He fidgets with his glasses, coming across as embarrassed but also endearing. "I had no idea that thing would cause such a reaction."
"Well, it is pretty noticeable," Sasha remarks with a meaningful peek at you. "Very... attention-grabbing."
"I guess." Armin glances at you pointedly. "What do you think? You've seen the video, right?"
The question is innocent enough, but something in his tone makes you look at him more carefully. There's an out-of-the-ordinary implication that you can't quite put your finger on. "Uh... yeah, I've seen it," you manage to croak out. Terrific. Could you get any stiffer?
"And?"
"And what?"
"What did you think?"
You stare at him blankly, trying to figure out if this is a normal friend question or if you’re incorrectly perceiving the foreign edge of curiosity behind it. "I thought... I mean, your book recommendations were really good. Very passionate."
"Passionate," he repeats, the fleeting flash of understanding across his face confirming your earlier weariness. "That's interesting."
Sasha's phone cuts through the uneasiness with its incessant buzzing, and she scans it with obviously fake surprise. "Oh no, would you look at that. I have to go... meet... someone... about... a... very real thing... I have." She begins gathering her stuff with awfully suspicious speed. "You two have fun talking about books. And passion. And tongue piercings."
"Huh? Wait. Sasha—" you squeak out, but she's already dashing out of the private study room you had booked for the both of you until late afternoon (traitor). Which leaves you alone with Armin, who's scrutinising you with an expression you can't quite read.
"Alright," he speaks after a moment, closing his laptop and leaning back in his chair. "Want to tell me what you actually thought about the video?"
"I already told you."
"No, you gave me the safe answer." He tilts his head slightly, studying you with purpose. "Come on, we've been friends for two years. I know when you're holding back."
You hastily shove some noodles in your mouth, avoiding his gaze. "I'm not holding back."
"Really? Because Sasha seemed to think you had some important opinions about it."
You make a mental note to start drafting your plan for the girl’s well-deserved comeuppance. "Sasha talks too much."
"She does," Armin agrees. "But she's usually right about things. Especially when it comes to you."
The rarely there confidence in his tone makes you look up and, when you meet his gaze, the intensity catches you off guard. "What do you want me to say?"
"Did you know," he continues conversationally, "that TikTok shows you analytics about who's viewed your videos?"
Almost instantly, your heart stops. "What?"
"Mhm. Very detailed analytics. Including multiple views from the same account." His lips quirk up in a small smile. "Want to guess how many times your account shows up in my viewer list?"
You feel heat creeping up your neck. "I don't know what you're talking about." You briefly consider denying reality, blaming a technical issue, or claiming a glitch in the matrix—but none of it sticks.
"Seventy-seven times," he announces, the metaphorical checkmate hitting you straight in the chest. "As of this morning."
Oh god. Oh god, oh god, oh god. He knows. "I can explain—"
"Can you?" He angles himself forward, resting his elbows on the table. "Because I've been trying to figure out why my very good friend has watched a boring thirty-second video of me talking about books seventy-seven times."
You want to run away, mouth opening and closing like a fish. "I... the algorithm is weird sometimes?"
Armin chuckles, low and warm, absent of any malice. "Try again."
"I was checking to see if the view count was going up?"
"Nope."
You're quiet for a long moment, trying to figure out how to get out of this without completely humiliating yourself. You don't suppose it's too late to jump out of a window? Ultimately, you sigh in defeat. "Okay, fine. Maybe I watched it a few times."
"A few?"
You narrow your eyes, crossing your arms in defiance at the unsolicited endless interrogation. "More than a few."
"How many more?"
You want to strangle him, and not in the sexy way. "You’re being annoying."
"Come on." His voice has dropped slightly lower, and there's something almost akin to teasing in it. "I told you about the marriage proposals. Fair's fair."
You mutter a profanity under your breath, groaning. "Fine. I watched it a lot. Happy?"
"No. We’re getting there, though. Why?"
"Why what?"
Armin’s glee sharpens into something ravenous, a flicker of desperation lurking beneath his carefree demeanour—like he’s itching for you to say exactly what he needs. "Why did you watch it seventy-seven times?"
Your lungs feel too tight, too exposed. "Because..."
"Because?"
"Because you looked really good, okay?" The words come out in a rush. "Because watching you talk about literally anything is incredibly attractive, and because that frustrating part where your tongue piercing shows has been tormenting me ever since the video came out."
The silence that follows is eerily deafening. Armin simply stares at you, and you wish the ground would swallow you whole.
"Shit," you grumble, burying your face in your hands. "I'm sorry. That was completely out of line. I know we're friends and I shouldn't have—"
"Hey. Look at me."
The way he asks convinces you to peep through your fingers, reluctant but unable to look away. His expression is attentive and focused—definitely not one of disgust.
"You think I'm attractive?" he questions softly.
"I... yes?"
He blinks, his usual calm shattered by the raw vulnerability in your voice. His fingers tremble, revealing the fierce hope inside that there’s a potential chance that someone sees him as more than the sum of his quirks. "Even though I'm just a loser who gets excited about obscure paranormal documentaries and spends too much time playing video games?"
"Especially because of that," you admit, having never been more sure of yourself.
His answering smile is slow and devastating. "Good to know."
"Good to know?"
He hums, reaching across the table, and gently pulls your hands away from your face. "I've been wondering if you'd ever see me as more than just your friend who helps you with your homework."
Your brain, without a doubt, malfunctions. "What?"
"Did you really think I started bringing you food and staying up late just because I'm a good friend?"
The words disarm you. You’re trapped between incredulity and the dawning comprehension of what he might be suggesting. "I…"
"And did you think I learned how to play your favourite songs on guitar just because I had time to spare?"
"Y-you said you wanted to practice—"
"And I presume you thought I got this piercing because I was feeling rebellious?"
That stops you short, confusion apparent in the furrow of your brows. "You didn't?"
Armin's grin turns almost predatory. "I got it because I overheard you and Sasha talking about how cool you find them. This was back in October, after you'd been dating that guy with the lip ring."
You feel like a kettle left on the stove too long. "You... what?"
"You said, and I quote, 'There's something about tongue piercings that's beyond exciting.’ Something along the lines of how the person has to be bold enough to get it, but there's the simultaneous insinuation of what they can do with it."
"I’m going to kill myself," you gape at him in horror. "You heard all of that?"
"I was sitting right behind you in the campus coffee shop. You weren’t exactly shy about it." He shifts closer, and you can spot the hint of silver when he speaks, "I made an appointment that very afternoon."
"You got a tongue piercing because of something I said about another guy?"
"I got a tongue piercing because I wanted to be the guy you were talking about."
The confession hangs in the air between you, charged and electric. You stare at him, trying to process this complete change in everything you thought you knew about your friendship.
"I've been trying to get your attention for months. I was starting to think I'd have to do something drastic."
In spite of being made to face terrifying revelation after revelation, you manage to stutter out a breathless laugh. "More drastic than getting a tongue piercing for me?"
"I was considering learning to play your favourite video game."
You snort despite yourself. "You hate that game."
He shrugs casually, as if the lengths to which he would go for you knew no bounds. "I know. That's how desperate I was getting."
The atmosphere between you feels tense now, full of possibility and two years of unspoken tension. Armin traces your knuckles and the simple touch sends heat shooting up your arm.
"So," you say, trying to stay as composed as you possibly can. "What happens now?"
"Now," he starts, standing up, "you tell me what exactly you were thinking about during those seventy-seven views."
He's close enough that you have to tilt your head back to look at him, and the unwavering want in the blue of his eyes makes your breath catch. "I was thinking..." you trail off, feeling timid with his attention on you.
"You can do it. Use your words for me?" his voice has gotten rougher, huskier, and it sends delightful shivers down your spine.
"I was thinking about what it would feel like."
"What would feel like?"
"Your piercing. When you..." You gesture vaguely, cheeks burning. Armin's hand comes up to cup your face, thumb brushing across your bottom lip. "When I what?"
"When you kiss me," you whisper.
"Just kissing?" The question is loaded with underlying intentions, and you shake your head slowly.
"Tell me what else you were thinking about."
"Armin..."
"Please." The plea is hushed but insistent. "I want to know what's been going through your head."
You swallow, your throat suddenly dry as you let go of the entirety of your self-restraint. "I was thinking about what it would feel like on my body. What it would feel like when you use your mouth on me."
His pupils immediately dilate at your words. "Fuck."
"Is that... is that okay?"
Instead of verbally affirming, he leans down and kisses you. It's gentle at first, tentative, but when you react by fisting your hands in his sweater and pulling him closer, he deepens it. The first brush of his tongue against yours has you gasping, and when you feel the metal of his piercing, it sends intoxicating pleasure shooting through you.
You break apart, breathing heavily, and Armin rests his forehead against yours.
"How was that?" he asks earnestly, voice raspy.
"Good," you breathe. "Really good."
His smile is full of care but there's primal desire behind it. "And the piercing?"
"Want more of it."
He brushes his thumb across your lip again. Truth be told, it’s plain torture. "You know, we're in public right now."
Every wall you built is crumbling under the weight of him, and all you can do is let it. "I know."
"Anyone could walk by and see us."
"I know."
"And you don't care?"
You drag your hand up his thigh, stopping just shy of where he clearly wants it, "Not even a little bit."
He kisses you again, harder this time, and you can't help the soft moan that escapes when his tongue meets yours in another dance of display. The sound seems to flip a switch in him, because his hands are tangling in your hair and he's pressing you back against your chair.
"God, you have no idea how long I've wanted to do this," he murmurs against your lips.
"Tell me ‘Min."
"Since freshman year. Since that first day in psych class when you argued with Professor Smith about the ethics of behavioural modification."
You draw away just barely, shaking under the intimacy of his declaration. "That long?"
"That long." He doesn’t think twice before trailing his teeth along your jaw, and when the metal of his piercing digs into your flushed skin, you whimper needily.
"You were so assertive, so brilliant. I was completely and utterly gone."
"Why didn't you say anything?"
"Because you were dating that business major asshole, and then when you broke up, we became friends,” he hesitantly halts his ministrations to flutter his eyelashes at you, “I-I didn't want to ruin it."
Good heavens, you didn’t stand a chance from the beginning.
"But then you kept looking at me like... like you wanted me too, and I started hoping..."
"I did want you. I do want you." The admission comes out whinier than intended, but you can’t bring yourself to be bothered at this point. "So much."
His hands tighten in your hair. "Yeah?"
"Yeah."
You’re unaware of how many minutes pass as you lose yourself in the sensation of his mouth on yours, and the way he tastes like mint and something uniquely him. You dig your nails lightly into his sides, claiming him in an act of fervent possession. His breaths mingle with yours and the world outside your tangled bodies fades until there’s nothing but lust burning between you. By the end of it, your chests rise and fall in tandem.
"We should probably get out of here," he mumbles, peeking around the library.
Craving Armin has left you dazed, vision glassy as you attempt to make sense of your surroundings. "Right. Um, your place or mine?"
He pecks your nose, full of affection, tenderly guiding you. "Mine. My roommate's gone for the weekend."
You start gathering your things with shaky hands, hyperaware of the way Armin is observing you. When you bend over to pick up your bag, you hear his sharp intake of breath.
"Something wrong?" you ask innocently.
"N-nothing," he mutters, skittishly pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.
The walk to his dorm feels like it takes forever, full of stolen glances and the kind of anticipation that makes your skin feel too tight. When you reach his room, he fumbles with his keys for a moment—so fucking cute—before getting the door open.
You haven’t had a lot of time this semester to crash at his dorm—neat and organised, with anime posters on the walls and stacks of books and manga everywhere. But you barely have time to take it in before he's pressing you against the closed door, urgency lacing his actions.
This time, there's nothing apprehensive about it. His hands are everywhere—your waist, your back, squeezing your ass—and when you arch against him, he makes a low sound of approval.
"You taste so good," he shudders against you. "Everything I’ve imagined and so much more."
"You imagined this?"
"Every night for two years." His mouth moves to your neck, nibbling along your throat. "What you'd look like, what you'd sound like when I made you come."
The words send heat pooling low in your belly, prompting you to press your thighs together instinctively. "Fuck, don’t say shit like that.”
"Why not? I’ve been longing for you. All of you," he whispers, pulling back to look at you with dark, lidded eyes. "You’re not getting away until I’ve had my fill."
It would be an understatement to say that you hadn’t foreseen this when you woke up today. That you'd be spending hours with your legs over Armin's shoulders, forgetting your own name; the compassionate, stammering genius the internet drooled over. Too bad he’s not on the market. It would be a treat if his fans could see him like this—flushed and breathless, fingers gripping your hips like he’d die without you. Armin Arlert, golden boy of TikTok, practically begging to let him ruin you.
You grow dizzy at the promise in his voice. "Please."
He lets his hand trail lower, indecently tranquil, and just as you think he’ll do something reckless—he pauses, smirking wickedly.
"Want to find out what this piercing really feels like when I eat you out?"
You were pinned under him, skin slick and burning, every movement from Levi relentless. His hands gripped you hard, jerking you against him like he couldn’t get enough, like letting go wasn’t an option. Every ragged breath, every sharp groan, every growl of his made your body shake, teeth clenching, nails digging into his shoulders.
“Levi… please…” you gasped, voice trembling as he drove into you with brutal precision.
“F—fuck, stay still,” he growled, voice low and hoarse, his jaw tight. But then, suddenly, his movements stuttered, a pause that made your chest hammer. His hands pressed harder against your hips, his gaze wild, almost unrecognizable.
“I… I need… I need you to—stay with me,” he muttered, voice breaking, ragged. Then, almost strangled out in a whisper, “Marry me.”
You froze mid-pleasure, heat and confusion mixing, pulse thundering. “What…?”
“Marry me,” he growled, teeth grazing your skin, voice rough and desperate, hands clenching your body like he couldn’t hold himself together. “I don’t… I don’t care about—anything else. Just… you. Always. Understand?”
Your chest burned, body shaking from both the roughness of him and the weight of his words. “You’re insane,” you breathed, barely able to keep hold of him.
“I know,” he snapped his hips harder, voice low and raw, almost growling in frustration. “And I don’t… care. Just… don’t leave me. Ever.”
Even in the chaos of urgent, rough need, you could feel him trembling against you, his vulnerability peeking through the possessive heat. Somehow, you nodded, voice small, shaky, but certain: “Alright… yeah… always.”
He let out a ragged breath, pulling you impossibly close, teeth grazing your shoulder. And even in the middle of the mess, the roughness, the desperate thrusts and groans, Levi Ackerman had just promised himself to you. And Levi doesn't break promises.
boyfriend!jean kirstein purposely annoying you with his stubble ˚.✦
“Jean, personal space,” you try, already knowing that it’s pointless. After telling your boyfriend that his beard couldn’t be considered one, he decided to become an annoying little shit, rubbing his stubble against your face every time he could.
“But I’m not bothering you, am I? There’s nothing in my soft and bare face that can be uncomfortable,” he says, as he presses his cheeks against yours, the little hairs not tickling but rasping against your cheek.
You sigh, trying to tilt your head away, but Jean just follows the movement like it’s a game he’s already winning. His arms are looped around your waist, holding you close on the couch and there’s that smug little smirk on his lips you can feel more than see.
“Jean,” you warn again. “It’s like sandpaper. You’re gonna leave my face red.”
He pulls back just enough to look at you, one eyebrow raised, all fake innocence. “Babe, I shaved this morning, what are you talking about? This is basically baby skin.” To prove his point he drags his jaw slowly along your neck, the short, prickly hairs scraping in a way that makes you squirm and slap at his shoulder.
“Ow, ow, stop! You’re such a little shit!”
Jean chuckles, the sound vibrating against your skin. “A little shit with a smooth face, right?” He nuzzles in again, this time aiming for the sensitive spot just under your ear, rubbing deliberately until you’re giggling and trying to push him off at the same time.
You manage to get a hand between you and pinch his cheek. “It’s not even a beard, it’s… angry peach fuzz that hates me.”
He gasps dramatically. “That’s it. Now I’m never shaving again.” But even as he says it, he’s already leaning back in, pressing his stubbly cheek to yours with extra pressure, grinning like an idiot. “Gotta make sure my ‘bare’ face leaves a lasting impression.”
You groan, but you’re smiling too, because even when he’s being the most annoying boyfriend on the planet, you kind of love how stupidly proud he is of his dumb little victory.
Levi's road to confessing was arduous (to him) and full of longing
contains: angsty fluff. canon universe, reader joined the survey corps a little before Levi became Captain. mentions of canon typical events and minor character death. mostly focused on Levi's view of things. Miche and Erwin are rooting for the two of you, and they gossip about your relationship in their minuscule free time. slow burn ish. no smut.
wc: 6.2k
To Levi, meeting you felt like further proof that the world wanted to consistently push him to the edge of insanity, even if at a smaller scale than every unfortunate event of his past. It was the first time he felt completely weakened by something so harmless, idiotic infatuation.
He realized very early on, during your first week as a new member of the Corps, that he had an unparalleled interest in you. It appalled him.
For the first couple of months he refused to admit to himself that what he felt when you were around meant anything beyond idle curiosity.
He chalked up his harsh treatment of you during training to simply proving you were a good soldier; instead of what it actually was, a weak attempt to make you give up, because he felt someone like you shouldn’t have to deal with the horrors of the world.
He convinced himself the headaches he would get when you were called on for patrols or expeditions were just a result of his lack of sleep. And that the constant thoughts of you swirling in his mind every damn night would dissipate the longer you were around. He was very wrong about that.
He made it a point to not interact with you outside of training, missions, or briefings. Nonetheless, that didn’t mean he didn’t feed into his curiosity. As subtly as he could.
He watched you a lot. Enough to know that you were always late for breakfast, trained yourself to the bones even on your off days, volunteered to help around with anything you could, and were particularly good at mending clothes. He knew you liked eating with Hange almost every night, and it was the part of your day he enjoyed the most. On each of those nights he followed the two of you into the mess hall, sitting far enough that Hange wouldn’t get the idea of asking him to join, but still giving himself the appropriate distance to observe you. To commit to memory every little detail he could, how you ate, how you sat, what you talked about, if your nose also scrunched up at the disgusting taste of the tea everyone but him was subjected to; any information he could gather before the sound of your laugh warmed his chest enough to make him leave.
Truthfully, he could have kept that stalker-ish routine going for ages, and he fully intended to; being able to keep his distance while still getting the smallest doses of you seemed like an ideal arrangement in his mind.
It wasn’t until one damning night that he decided this restrictive mindset had to change. He saw you walking with another recruit, late, and alone. He couldn’t properly hear whatever wildly amusing conversation you were having from where he stood; regardless of that, he could still clearly make out the faint sound of your laugh accompanying it.
The small scene was enough to break him from his ridiculous self-imposed prison. Levi didn’t want to allow himself to indulge in his desires for you. He didn’t feel he deserved to be with you in any capacity further than working alongside each other. Despite that, the idea that someone else could come in and take from him the possibility of a chance with you was much more mortifying than his own insecurities and concerns.
From that alone, he made the decision to allow himself a sliver of your time. And so, the very next day you were graced with your first private conversation with the captain, if you could even call it that.
He approached you after you were done with training, standing against a wooden beam trying to steady your breathing, hair messy, and sweat coating your forehead.
“Your stance was horrible today.” The abruptness of his presence and his comment caught you off guard.
“What?” You looked at him with a puzzled look, processing whether he was actually addressing you or not.
“During training. You were terrible.” He explained, his tone maintaining its harshness despite your confusion.
“Oh. Yeah, I guess so, I’m out of my element today.” You explained plainly, a half-smile tugging on your lips both at the bluntness, and the fact this was probably the first time he came up to you alone.
“And yesterday as well.”
“Right.”
“You’re not sleeping well.” More of a statement than a question, the dark circles you've been sporting this week probably gave it away.
“I've been having a hard time with it, yes.”
He gave you a firm nod, pursing his lips together in thought.
“I’ll come find you tonight, I have a tea for that.” He turned around the moment he finished without a second look, not giving you an actual chance to accept or refuse.
Since then, the two of you started a small routine. He’d look for you after dinner and guide you on a brief walk to the top floor of the main building. A teapot and two cups already placed on the window ledge in the back of the room, with a singular candle lit close by; he hoped that the minimal amount of light would make his intense gaze less noticeable.
It was supposed to last only for however long you were struggling to sleep but continued far past those days. Most times he wouldn’t talk, only listened; he’d let you rattle on about the day if you pleased, indulging you by participating in idle gossip.
“I can reprimand them for that. I trust you’re aware.” He’d slip in when you shared a little too much about the escapades of some recruits, forgetting for a moment he had recently become your superior.
“Well, this is all alleged. Maybe I didn’t hear it right. This tea is great by the way; is it a different kind?" A blush creeping up your cheeks while you attempted to change the subject, looking at him with a sheepish smile that begged him to forget your prior information.
It took a few weeks, but he started contributing with topics of his own little by little. An opinion, a small anecdote, a complaint. Slowly chipping away at the facade of mystery and harshness that used to be all you got from him before. A part of Levi worried that the more you learnt about him, the less interested you’ll be, but the enjoyment he got from your small interactions vastly outweighed that concern.
A year into meeting you, Levi had grown accustomed to having you near him, even if for brief moments. He enjoyed your company and physically couldn't continue hiding it from you. He still kept enough distance to make his ever-growing feelings unknown to everyone else, and didn’t properly confess anything to you, but his advances grew slightly bolder.
Your nightly routine changed a lot from how it originally started. Moving from ten minutes of sipping tea in a semipublic space to secluded meetings in the dead of night. Going as far as sneaking you in his private quarters when he came back from travels you were not part of.
Being away from you became the key that pushed your connection forward. Every time he came back, he wanted to have you around for the night, and he needed the certainty that you wouldn’t be interrupted; the reassurance of it enabled him to make these encounters last for hours.
He sat in a wooden chair next to his desk, beckoning you closer with a simple command. “Show me what happened.”
“You can’t see the bruise with my uniform on.” You argued with a stifled laugh; you had complained to him about a minor injury you sustained recently, something insignificant that happened while he was gone.
“Then change.”
You stared at him bewildered.
“Do I have to do it for you?” His stern tone didn’t falter; it would’ve seemed like an order more than playful teasing, if it wasn’t for how relaxed he looked.
“You returned as tactful as ever, I see.” You laughed, amused at his actions. You made your way to the bedroom, missing the smirk on his face.
You returned to the room in a thin nightgown that made Levi tense at the sight, hands tucking into fists on his lap before relaxing again. His hand sprawled on the back of your right thigh without question once you stood in front of him, pulling it closer to properly view the wide bruise on the outer side of it; purplish hues going from your mid-thigh to the bottom of your glute.
“This is nothing to you?” It came out softer than he intended. Thinking of you being hurt when he wasn’t around, no matter how little, lowered his guard.
“It looks worse than it is.”
His hand carefully grazed the bruise, hiking up the edge of your gown in the process. You shivered at the touch. Goosebumps covered your skin, and it did not go unnoticed by him. “Does it hurt?”
“No. I think this helps.” You humored, not bothering to hide your enjoyment of his treatment.
“I’m sure it does, brat.” He smiled, small, but enough for you to notice. His hand still caressing your leg despite his response.
It took Levi five years to make his feelings for you properly known. But it’s not like you, or others, hadn’t suspected them before that. Despite keeping the matter private, much like most things about him, sometimes he struggled to adequately hide that he had a soft spot for you.
He never outright said he cared about you, never properly held you, but all the things he did do, they proved to be more intimate and sweeter than any regular courting could ever be.
For your first birthday after joining the Corps he went out of his way to gift you a treat from a bakery in your home district. It became a tradition that he fulfilled every year since; he’d go as far as getting it for you in advance if an expedition took place around the date, just in case one of you didn't make it back after.
In your second year, after an expedition where two members of your graduating class were tragically lost, he sneaked you into his quarters every night for a week—Both Erwin and Hange knew but they didn’t say word of it—he’d lay you down next to him, let you cry out your grieve for as long as you needed to, and patiently waited until you grew tired enough to sleep to get some shut-eye of his own.
“I’ll never get used to it, will I?” Your voice was barely above a whisper.
“No.” While your eyes were glued to the ceiling, Levi’s gaze was fixed on you. His expression was unreadable as usual, but he was completely tormented, wishing he could take this hurt away from you.
“Am I being weak?”
“You’re being human.”
“That’s a yes.” You smiled, attempting to joke, yet the humor in your voice didn’t reach your eyes. Tears fell down in a stream, and Levi had to try his hardest not to reach out and wipe them off your cheeks. “I just—” Your voice broke. To him, the sound evoked a feeling adjacent to being stabbed. “I feel I should be stronger than this. I shouldn’t be surprised over what I signed up for.”
“You’re not surprised; you’re hurt.” Levi chastised, shifting his position to look at you properly. “You did your job, you don’t have to be strong now. Now stop this nonsense of acting like it's shameful to grieve. At least don't do it with me.”
You didn’t say anything—instead looking back at the ceiling while your hand found his arm, curling up to his side when the tears started burning your eyes once again.
He didn’t try to hold you, but he didn’t pull away. Even after you fell asleep.
In your third year, when Erwin told him he’d be pulling you out of his team to make you a squad leader, he became sick almost immediately. The notion that you would no longer be under his supervision, that even if you went on the same expeditions as he did, he’d have to wait until the very end before he could know if you were still alive. It circled his head all morning and gave him a headache so outstanding he had to dismiss himself from training that afternoon.
“What do you think?” Erwin ended the silence that persisted since he broke the news.
Levi stared absentmindedly. “I think she’ll be a fantastic leader.”
“Is that it?”
“Are you asking for my permission?”
“No, I simply respect you enough to ask for your opinion.”
“Unless you’re willing to put my preferences above what’s best for humanity, don't ask for my opinion on what you should do with her.”
“Because your preference would be to retire her immediately?” Erwin prodded, with no real expectation for Levi to speak up. It wasn’t the first time he brought you up, and it wouldn’t be the last if Levi kept refusing to trust him with this information. “You don’t have to answer that. I understand you want to avoid telling me what I already know.”
Following your change in rank, the order of retreating met Levi with a wave of asphyxiating dread rather than relief, one that didn’t dissipate until he was able to spot you on your horse, still breathing and in one piece. These concerns were never brought up to you or anyone else for that matter—despite Erwin being aware and willing to speak with him about it if he could just be honest—even if his fear of losing you and not being able to do anything about it grew stronger with every expedition, he kept his worries regarding your well-being private. You always returned; he had no reason to discuss anything he felt. If you were alive and well, he’d be able to mask his love for you for a while longer.
It wasn’t until your fifth year as a member of the Survey Corps when his ‘while longer’ ended. When he had to come to terms with his fears, and his feelings.
He kept his composure as best as he could while going through the list of those dead and missing with Erwin, watching other scouts load bodies into carriages, though he’s sure it did not go unnoticed how tightly he was gripping his gear while he waited for every name to be read. Even then, after all bodies were loaded, the trek to the walls started, and confirmation that you were not one of those lost received; his heartbeat did not return to a healthy rhythm. He needed to see you.
This was the most stressed he ever felt trying to find you after an expedition. Deep down, he could feel something about today was different, as if you not being okay was something he could physically feel. And it didn’t help the fact that it took him so long to spot you; carriages and horses already on the move to safety without him being able to catch a single glimpse of you.
Every second that passed he could feel his body tense further, cold sweat reaching his palms, a knot tight in his throat that only got tighter the moment he saw you. That sickening feeling of dread he thought he had grown used to crashed down on him and threatened to finish him right then and there. He spotted you being carried by Miche when he made it past the wall. Your body limp in his hold, your inability to even keep your head up made Levi assume the worst and had him rush in your direction before he even realized it.
He got off the horse calm and collected, as if his heart wasn’t threatening to rip itself out of his chest. His relief upon seeing you were still breathing was immediate, yet short-lived as he paid more attention to your injuries. Your left thigh and arm were bandaged. There was blood all over you, dripping from your nose, your mouth, and the seams of the binds on your wounded limbs; you must’ve been hurt close before the order to retreat was given.
It made him sick and brought a vile sting to his eyes, a sensation he had long forgotten.
“She’s okay.” Miche assured him, smiling lightly at how Levi was frowning at you as though telepathically reprimanding you for getting to this state. “Nothing’s broken, but she’s weak. She couldn’t keep riding.”
Levi nodded firmly, not trusting himself to speak right away. He reached under your body, taking you in his arms with little protest from the other man. “I’ll take her. I don’t want her in a carriage.”
“She’d be laying down.” Miche pointed out yet still took a step back once Levi had a solid hold on you, not really wanting to interfere.
“She’d be alone.”
Miche nodded, holding back his reaction at what the captain was displaying, and promptly retreating to his horse; more than ready to get back and tell Erwin about this little interaction.
You were conscious enough to hear the conversation, although far too drained to register the worry behind Levi’s tone let alone comment on it. You had half a mind to realize he carried you back to his horse, helping you on it before getting behind you. He took a hold of the handle and took off in a slow ride, while his left arm went around your waist, keeping you tucked back against him.
One of your hands went to his forearm, giving it a small squeeze to show your acknowledgement before relaxing again.
“Are you okay?” He questioned quietly. Not that anyone would be able to hear him past the sound of hooves against the ground and the many murmurs of civilians watching them pass by.
You turned your head enough to look at him out of the corner of your eye. The concern written all over his face almost made you forget the waves of pain crashing through you. You nodded, small, before letting the back of your head rest on his shoulder; the tiny action having wasted the remainder of your energy.
“Liar.” He murmured against your hair, the touch of his lips against your scalp so fleeting you could only assume you imagined it.
That night Levi had been more consumed in his own thoughts than he would have appreciated. You were out most of the ride back to the base; the only thing keeping you upright was his firm hold on you that didn’t falter once. He spent that time wondering what happened, how did you injure yourself, did somebody help you, did you have to drag yourself all the way to your horse and pretend you didn’t feel so bad until it was inevitable?
He imagined every single heartbreaking scenario his brain could come up with, images of you crying out while you bled in the woods flashed through his mind, torturing himself with the idea that maybe you had been near him, maybe you even called out for him and he didn’t hear it, trying to find ways to blame himself for your poor state.
He woke you gently once you made it to the base, helping you off the horse and onto your feet, guiding you to wrap an arm over his shoulder to steady yourself when you were unable to suppress your limping. Everything was a blur for you, every step you took forgotten when the next one happened.
You could remember briefly smiling at Hange when she approached the two of you, catching some of their conversation, and Levi whisking you away before you could manage a goodbye.
“You really busted yourself out there.” You chuckled at her comment and winced immediately after, a stabbing pain reaching your ribs, the mixed noise making her laugh. “You’re okay?”
You nodded, not getting the time to answer before Levi interjected. “She is.” He stated, adjusting his grasp on your hip when you clutched your side.
“Right… I’ll get one of the scouts to take her to the infirmary. Erwin wants to talk to us.”
“No.” Levi spoke up before Hange could even attempt turning on her heel. “I will take care of it, and I’ll go to his office after. Tell him I’ll only be a moment.” He kept walking without another word, not giving her any time to make a comment on his behavior.
He took you to his quarters, helping you out of your stained cloak and muddied boots before starting to undo the soaked bandages on your limbs. He seemed unaffected by the sight he was met with, the gashes and lacerations covered in dried blood were nothing he hadn’t seen before; but the fact that they were on your body, it brought a shake to his hands he was completely unfamiliar with and he thanked the heavens you were too busy scrunching your eyes together at the stinging feel of him cleaning the open wounds to notice it.
You don’t know if you talked, if he asked you anything, you don’t think so. The only thing you committed to memory was the feel of hardened hands touching you in the softest ways imaginable, guiding you to his bed when he was done and easing you into laying down. He caressed your face before he moved away; the way he looked at you a mixture of longing and thinly veiled restraint.
He left almost as soon as he laid you down, knowing that if you said anything, if you made even the slightest sound, he’d discard his meeting altogether to lay next to you.
Levi came back less than an hour after with a thick bag under his arm, having raided your room before coming to gather anything you might need. He was being exceedingly obvious today; he knew more than well his friends no longer needed a heartfelt confession to know exactly why he had been so special to you in the past five years with how he's behaved, but for once he couldn’t care less about that matter.
He found you just as he had left you, now asleep with your mouth slightly agape. Your messy hair tussled all around was the only indication that you moved while he was gone. He pulled a chair next to the bed, not wanting to risk waking you up; ready to patiently wait until he could get you out of your filthy, blood-stained uniform. Your change of clothes and a clean set of sheets awaiting next to him already.
He doesn’t know how long you were asleep for, but it continued through enough hours for him to follow suit at some point.
He vaulted out of the chair when you woke up with a loud cry; the sound was completely gut-wrenching.
“What happened? What’s wrong?!” He grabbed you by the shoulders with a desperate pull, his eyes searching for yours. The sting of tears threatening to break free he felt earlier returned with a vengeance when you coughed up blood, tears streaming down your face.
“Talk to me, angel. Please.” He begged, hands reaching for your face, wiping your tears. You didn’t speak, didn’t explain what was ailing you, instead your cries became louder, deafening.
Levi could feel his heartbeat hammering in his chest, and before he could do anything, more blood came out of your mouth, then your nose, then from your wounds, white bandages drowned in the crimson red liquid. He couldn’t find the words; he didn’t even know what to do. He frantically moved around the room, searching for anything to wipe the blood with, to apply pressure and stop this someway.
Before he knew it, his own eyes were welled up with tears as he desperately tried to stop you from bleeding out, the sound of your crying overwhelming him completely.
“You’re going to be okay. You’re okay.” He repeated like a mantra, the room spinning around him when he looked at the pool of blood under you. He wiped his tears with his forearm. His heartbeat grew louder, and the sound of it seemed to echo through the room.
You wouldn’t stop crying, and God, you wouldn’t stop bleeding, it was futile to try. Your hands went to his shoulders, bringing him closer to you while you sobbed hysterically.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what to do.” He wrapped his arms around you tightly, crying onto your hair, hopelessly clinging to you. “I can’t do anything. Please forgive me, angel. Please.” He wept, his grip tightening the quieter your cries became; your energy depleted the longer you kept bleeding.
“Don’t leave me.” It became uncontrollable; he felt completely out of himself, the sound of his thunderous heartbeat, the feel of your blood on his hands, the pain in his chest crushing him further and further. “Please don’t leave me.”
“Levi?... Levi.” He woke up with a jolt to see you standing above him, mind completely fogged by the images his brain came up with. His eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness of the room, looking around the now empty bed then back to your fragile frame.
The glow of the moon coming from the window was the only source of light, but it was enough to see you properly; not in tears, and not bleeding out. Instead, you were looking at him with a puzzled expression, an arm cradling your midsection as you tried your best to stand upright.
“Are you okay? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“I’m—” He closed his mouth before continuing, rubbing his eyes before he looked at you again, a slight wet feeling coating his fingertips—was he crying?—it was just a dream. “Don’t worry. Is something wrong?”
“I wanted to get out of all this blood. But I could barely make it a few steps past the bed.”
He hummed, burying his face in his hands for a moment, trying to regain his composure. “I’ll help you.” His eyes found you again, narrowed. Going over every inch of your body to make sure nothing was out of the ordinary, to prove to himself that you wouldn’t randomly start bleeding out in front of him. He debated telling you about his dream, telling you about how worried he was earlier and how the stress of his concerns was swallowing him whole right now, but that would mean delving into a conversation he’s unsure he’d be good at. Maybe he’ll need to practice it.
He walked you to the bathroom, arm stretched out for you to hold onto through every step. “You look terrible.” He murmured, helping you stand in front of the small tub.
“Aren’t you sweet.” You laughed dryly, slowly loosening your grip on his forearm to let him stand back.
You and Levi stared at each other willfully, both waiting for the other to take the next step.
“Can you do it alone?” He asked while reaching for the top button of your shirt, undoing it slowly, waiting for you to form a response, groggy and restless voice adding something new to his usual stoic tone.
You wanted to object, tell him he didn’t need to continue. But you were sure you’d end up falling face first on the floor at some point if he wasn’t holding onto you. “Maybe I could.”
“Sure.” He muttered, gaze focused on where his hands started to undo the rest of your shirt, a deep frown covering his features at the side of fresh red bruises covering your left side.
He carefully undid the bandages on your arm to slowly slide off the shirt. You didn’t care to watch his movements; you couldn’t look away from his face, how concentrated he was, how troubled he seemed over your wounds. It made you smile, both that and the pink tint of his cheeks when he exposed you further.
If you knew him less, you would’ve asked him to kiss you right then and there, but by now you knew well his only answer to that would be questioning if you were concussed.
Levi kept himself from speaking. Too focused on the crushing weight in his heart over the sight of your bruised and battered frame, a weight that grew more draining the more of your clothes he got rid off.
His mind also trotted over the idea of kissing you. He thought about it every single day, but now more than ever he wished he had done so before. That way he could pepper every single inch of your body with small soothing kisses now and it wouldn’t be strange, there wouldn’t be a possibility of you freaking out, because by now you would’ve been used to his affections.
If only he had been braver about it before.
He desperately wished to hold you tenderly in his arms, to caress your skin and kiss you senselessly, trusting that every bit of his devotion would help you forget about the pain you must be feeling.
“What happened?” He helped you stand above the drain, squeezing your hand before letting you stand on your own. He soaked a cloth before he started carefully scrubbing your arms, trying his best to not pressure the slash on your left arm into bleeding again.
“It was my stupidity. One of my scouts was kicked off his horse, and a titan was going to grab him, and I— It was impulsive. I threw myself at them and I didn’t realize another titan was coming. It was a big mess and I wasn’t thinking clearly.” You yawned between your sentences, watching him with tired eyes, following his hands whenever he bent to dampen the cloth and settling back on his face when he returned; his eyebrows furrowed at your anecdote. “I couldn’t tell you exactly what happened, I just know I flew through more trees than I would like, and when I finally got my cables to stick to something I was hanging two inches from the floor and looked like this.”
Levi stayed silent for a moment, trying to picture the situation, as if that helped him in any way. “How did you get on your horse?”
“Miche found me. I would have only been able to drag myself until I found someone. It’s hard to lift this leg.” His grip on your waist tightened at the notion, his eyes now meeting yours to avoid staring at where he scrubbed on your chest, ever-present frown adorning his features.
Levi saw the images of your explanation vividly in his mind; he could clearly see you dragging yourself out of the woods in fear that you wouldn’t make it, as if it actually happened, as if he had been present. It was completely nauseating. “I’m sorry.” His hands stopped, both settled firmly on your hips, indifferent to his proximity and your bare skin.
“For what?”
“I could’ve been there.”
One of your hands reached his bicep, tentatively caressing him. “Don’t do that.”
He pursed his lips together; he knew it was ridiculous to upset himself over something he had no control over, and yet he couldn’t stop. He stayed silent, instead opting to watch you get closer, your hands rubbing up and down his arms to ease him. The delicate body he’s grown to yearn for standing less than an inch away from him, laid bare for his eyes only.
“I’m supposed to be taking care of you.” He murmured, tense muscles taut under your touch as it rose up to his shoulders then back down to the front of his chest.
“I know, but you seem to be more troubled than I am. I may need help getting up, but you’re looking at me like I’m dying.”
“I just don’t know what to do with myself.” Levi let himself get closer, his hands hesitantly moving to your back. “Seeing you like this.”
“I’ve been hurt before.” Your tone was confused, and he hated that it urged him to continue.
“Not like this. Not when I’m not around.”
“I thought you didn’t care if I was not by your side.”
“I lied.”
You couldn’t help the weak laugh that left your lips, looking away from him as you tried to retrieve your composure.
“Are my worries amusing to you?” His gaze narrowed, not in his usual scowl—in dismay.
You shook your head, a hand coming up to caress his face, looking at him with nothing but utter reverence. “I’m more than appreciative of your worries. But I do find it humorous that I have to come back like this for you to say these things.”
The time seemed to stand still between you. Patient, as always, you waited; letting him find the words he’s been struggling to muster. He hated how difficult this was; to expose feelings he has been certain of for years. “Sit, we need to wash your hair.”
You sighed, hands dropping from him with a small nod. He helped you sit in the middle of the tub, kneeling down on the floor next to you, holding onto a small water pitcher with trembling hands.
You closed your eyes at the feeling of water slowly dripping onto your scalp, finally relishing in a soothing feeling. “Don’t look at me when I say this." His voice was low, unusually unsteady, despite being completely certain of his words. "I’m terrified of losing you.”
Your lips pursed together, trying your best to keep yourself from turning your head; wanting to indulge him if it meant being able to hear what he had to confess. “Why?” You asked quietly, eyes stuck to the water falling from your shoulders, bloody and muddy dark streaks slowly disappearing, becoming clearer the more his fingers helped brush water through the thick locks of hair.
Silence lingered for a moment. The only sound being the slow rush of water, and Levi’s deep breaths. He could do this, if there’s someone he could say anything to, it was you. So why did his chest ache this much?
“I’ve belonged to you from the moment I met you.” Levi’s voice came out ragged, broken. His hands softly brushed through your hair, moving back the strands that fell on your face. He cleared his throat, trying to regain some semblance of control. “And I don’t know what will be of me if the only reason I hold any hope for the future is no longer with me.”
You couldn’t help meeting his gaze, lips parting and closing with suppressed praises. To hear something that gentle, romantic, out of the very lips you’ve wished had graced yours long before today; it could’ve been enough to push you through every day of your life from now on.
The way you were looking at him was his undoing, a softness he did not deserve, and that he could only ever receive from you. He watched you uneasy, his throat running dry, unsure of what he was even waiting for. “Please say something.”
Words evaded you completely, too stuck on repeating that sweet confession over and over again in your head. Instead of coming up with some clever poetry of your equal feelings, you did the one thing you knew no amount of prodding would make him do.
Your hands slowly reached for him, cupping his face to bring him closer to you. And you waited, for a moment; not wanting to miss how he relaxed, how he gave in. Only then did your lips meet his with a tenderness that made Levi’s stomach flutter.
One of his hands went to the back of your neck, long fingers twisting into your hair, keeping your lips flush against his while he inched closer to you. His free hand gripped the back edge of the tub, his body looming above yours, completely trapping you under him.
The kiss was searing and all consuming. As if you were trying to pour into him every unsaid word; as if Levi was trying to make up for every single moment he wished your lips had been on his. It grew desperate within seconds, teeth clashing and noses bumping while both of you tried to absorb each other’s oxygen.
It’s only when you tried to wrap your arms around his neck to drag him down did you break away, wincing at the sting from a gash on your bicep.
Levi immediately tensed when you stopped. “I’m sorry.” His voice was breathless, a small whisper followed by him pulling back, softened gaze raking over you to make sure he didn’t hurt you.
“It’s my fault, I should’ve waited until we were laying down.” You quipped, instinctively reaching out for his arm to keep him somewhat close.
He laughed, openly, warm. “That might’ve ended worse.”
A comfortable silence fell in the room after your chuckles died down. Both of you staring at each other with the sweetness of two madly in love idiots. All flushed lips, red cheeks, and stupid smiles.
—
“And then what happened?” Erwin asked while flipping through pages of planning, the words he had written already mixing together from how long he had been staring at them, and how late it already was.
Miche stood by the window, looking out to the empty grounds below them. “I told him she’d be lying down in the carriage, probably more comfortable.”
“Mhm.”
“And he argued she’d be alone, very solemnly.”
“He did not.” Erwin dropped the papers, turning on his chair to meet Miche’s gaze, the other man already snickering to himself.
“He did, and then he just took her away. And I’m completely certain he kissed her hair when they got on the horse.” Miche whispered the last part, as if he was sharing the most confidential work information he could ever manage to get his hands on.
“In front of everyone?” Erwin stared at him dumbfounded, imagining the scene he described before letting out a quiet laugh.
“If they remain nothing but friends after tonight I fear we might have to send Hange in.”
There's something cute about Levi taking care of your baby while he is working. The meeting was mostly boring except for the little bundle in his lap, currently she was calm. Her eyes looked around, probably trying to find something to gawn on. It was that period, she was teething and all those sleepless nights tired both you and Levi out. He never let you take care of her on your own, never. Levi notices the baby getting restless in his lap, he gently runs his fingers through the tuffs of her soft black hair, same as his. The baby gurgles, enjoying the attention but its quickly distracted as her chubby fingers grab hold of Levi's paperwork. "No you don't, brat." He quickly replaced the papers with his tea spoon, sure he could've given her a toy but she found anything interesting especially when it was shiny. She coos happily showing off the new item to her father as she looks at him. "Yes that's very nice, princess." Just a slight smile grazes his lips as he watches her play.
The reaction of the rest of the room almost escaps Levi, almost. He notices how Hange keeps making faces at the baby and Erwin keeps getting distracted by the cuteness. Nifa trying to bribe the baby with some bright pencils doesn't miss him either. They got used to it by now, Levi didn't want to have you working but he also didn't stop you when you told him you wanted to come back to work. Both of you didn't trust random strangers with your daughter, so brining her to work was what you settled on. And it weirdly worked, the baby's innocence helped with the usual grim mood of the soldiers and Levi's workdays now were fun even if he had to finish three stacks of paperwork. The meeting is almost up to a close when you appear, the baby squeals loudly as she sees you making grabby hands. "Hi mama's bunny." You take her kissing her chubby cheek. "Did she behave?" You ask your husband who scoffs. "As well as a baby can. The shitty gums are bothering her." He hated seeing his kid in pain and if he could someone transfer it on himself, he would. Levi never wanted children but seeing you with your daughter and seeing his little girl smile, he wouldn't change it for anything in the world.
synopsis: a kid calls Jean your "husband" and that's all he can think of for the rest of the night.
pairing: jean kirschtein x fem! reader
word count: 3.6k
c.w: modern au!, trost is a modern city, fem! reader, making out outside, smut, shower s-x, p in v, lots of sweet talk, a little bit of dirty talk, disgusting fluff mixed with some smut.
Your heart was going was to burst out of your chest.
You’re not sure how to put it into words, the way he crouched down when you told him that your heels were hurting your feet, his big and warm hands working their way around your ankles to massage them. Or the way he looks up when you put your hand on top of his head, heat crawling up your neck when your eyes meet his.
Jean Kirtstein, the man who asked you to be his girlfriend a year and a half ago, was the text-book definition of the perfect man. An attentive lover, someone who pays attention to what you do or say — husband material. You would be lying if you said you didn’t think of marrying him six months into your relationship, but you knew it would be too soon to bring it up and you would hate to freak out the man.
Even then, what would you say? You treat me better than half of the men I have been with, and so now I need to marry you.
Yeah, that would sound absolutely insane.
Tonight was no different, you could feel the love pouring out of him with every move he made. The arm wrapped around your shoulders, the hand squeezing your arm to make sure that you were warm. Trost was known to be a rather cold city, especially at night, but it never stopped you from having your date nights.
“What are we watching next?” Jean leans down to stare at your phone with you. You were scrolling through the long movie list you had made together, reading carefully through the movie titles.
“We can do… Beautiful Boy? We haven’t watched it yet, surprisingly.” You look up at your boyfriend and he nods.
“Okay, Beautiful Boy.”
“Oh, I’m gonna ugly-cry though…”
Jean lets out a laugh before pressing his lips to the side of your head, pulling you closer to him. “Not the first time I’ve seen you cry.”
You roll your eyes before shoving your phone back in the pocket of your long coat. “You’re lucky I love you.”
“Oh you do?” Jean smirks, a dangerous glint in his eyes. “I would’ve never guessed.”
But before you could come up with your own smart retort, a rather loud bang interrupts your moment. It pulls you back to reality for a moment, and you find yourself holding onto your boyfriend’s arm.
“What was that?” You whisper, too nervous to step closer to the sound.
Jean immediately goes into protective mode, gently pushes you to hide behind him.
“Who is there?!” He yells out, all protective and serious as his eyes scan for potential danger. You would’ve run away, had it not been the alleyway that leads directly towards your apartment building.
Another soft, wet sound comes from the alleyway, but this time Jean squints as he takes a closer look at what was happening.
Orange, white, a little bit of black….white, and then orange again. Fur. There is fur everywhere, and multiple pairs of bright eyes stare directly into yours and Jean’s souls.
Cats were gathered around the dumpster, only distracted for a moment by your presence before diving back into their food. You step from around Jean and towards the animals, your voice careful and concerned.
“I hope they’re not eating something spoiled.”
And as if they could understand what you were saying, their gaze immediately shifts towards something in the sky.
Or more like someone.
“Miss! Watch out!” A child’s voice can be heard from above, and you look up at the third floor window.
Two kids — a boy and a girl, had their heads sticking out of the window. The light was very bright from where they were looking, and you assumed that they were probably in the kitchen.
“Oh,” you place a hand on your chest as you realize what was happening, and you turn to Jean with what he can only describe as the biggest smile on your face. “Look, I think they’re feeding them.”
Jean approaches you with a warm smile, reaching his hand towards your face where he gently holds your jaw before leaning down to kiss your forehead. His carefulness makes butterflies dance in your stomach, and you move closer to him as the two of you watch the cats eat.
“Mommy says we can’t go out and feed them at night.” It’s the boy who speaks up this time, his words laced with disappointment. Jean is quick to respond to him.
“Your mommy is right, it’s dangerous at night.”
“But you’re outside at night.” The pout is so evident in his voice that it makes you chuckle.
His sister hisses at him, quickly correcting him. “They’re grown ups, dummy! Grown ups can walk outside at night!”
“Then I wanna be a grown up some day!” The boy exclaims loudly, before tossing another piece of meat down to the cats.
It seems that this was a regular occurrence, as the cats look fairly healthy and are full after a couple of bites. The kids bid them goodbye very loudly, and then you hear a loud shush coming from inside their apartment.
“It’s way past your bedtime!”
“But mommy! It’s the weekend!”
“And I let you feed the cats, now it’s time to sleep.”
“I wanna say byebye to the nice lady and her husband!”
That elicits a chuckle from you and a surprised sound from Jean who looks down at you. “Am I just an accessory now?”
You wrap your arms around his middle. “A nice accessory.”
“Byebye!” Both kids wave at you, and you and Jean wave back as you watch them retreat inside.
“Goodnight!” You exclaim loud enough for both of them to hear, and their giggles echo through the night before the window closes and the rest of the conversation is muffled.
You stand there, your arms still wrapped around Jean before you feel his eyes on you, warm and adoring.
“What?” You can feel your cheeks warming up under his gaze, his firm body feeling extra nice against yours.
“Husband, huh?” He tucks a hair strand behind your ear, taking in your flustered look. “I like that. Do you?”
The question comes out soft, careful — this was Jean’s way of testing the waters, the relationship in itself. He wanted to make sure that you two were on the same page, that the past year and a half of you two being together has been just as amazing to you, as it has been fulfilling to him. He cradles your face with his hand, his thumb brushing against your warm cheek as you gaze at him lovingly.
“I love it.”
Your words hang in the air for a few moments, surrounded by the silence of the night and your mixed breaths. Your chest feels tight, eyes brimming with tears because this was so incredibly overwhelming yet steadying. Because this was Jean, this wasn’t the man who had stood you up or the one who made you pay despite being the one to invite you on a date, or the one who expected sex after one date.
This was Jean, and not your ex-boyfriend who had told you that he wasn’t ready for commitment after being in a relationship for a year, nor was he the man who ghosted you after three dates.
You tilt your head, melting against his touch and allowing him to take the lead from here.
And soon enough, he leans down and captures your lips with his in what starts out as a gentle kiss. A couple of pecks turned into deeper kisses, and in no time you were burying your hands in his hair, fingers pulling at his mullet. The action elicits a soft sound from the taller man who pushes you up against the nearest wall, not before stumbling a bit and giggling against each other’s lips.
“Would’ve been bad if you fell.” He whispers in between kisses, his hand resting on the back of your head whilst the other grips your hip. You can feel the self-restraint slipping with each kiss, and it makes your body feel warm as you smile against his lips.
“You would’ve fallen with me so I don’t get embarrassed.” You tease him, your finger poking at his cheek and he chuckles, his hand falling from your head. He was now fully gripping your hips, caging you between the wall and his body.
“Mmm, my girl knows me so well.” He nudges your nose with his, smiling at your euphoric giggles. His lips attach against your cheek, then your jaw and down to your neck as you gasp in between giggles.
“Jean!”
“My girl, my wife,” he says the petname with so much pride, so much possessiveness that you could’ve sworn you felt your heart was about to explode.
“I have a feeling you like the sound of that,” you tease the man, brushing his hair away from his face before holding it in your hands. “Your face feels warm.”
“I love it,” he kisses the palm of your hand, before melting against your touch. “You have no idea.”
“Oh I think I do.” You whisper with a shy smile, your thumb brushing against his cheek. “My husband.”
Jean’s eyes widen for a moment, a strong feeling washes over him before he squeezes his eyes shut. He takes the hand that is holding his face before kissing it — its palm, its knuckles, repeatedly and so lovesick that you could feel your heart in your throat.
And then he opens his eyes, and his stomach flips at the way you’re looking at him. All flushed, almost drunk off his love for you. You were breathing hard, chest heaving as you stared at him as if he held the key to all of your secrets. Like he was the answer to all of your problems, as if existing without him was the worst and most unforgivable sin.
He pauses. Because telling you what he was thinking would ruin it, saying out loud that he was thinking of a million ways to have a conversation with your family about proposing to you would ruin the surprise. Because revealing that he had been saving up for a ring for the past six months would make you worry about him, about whether or not he was using his own salary for himself.
Jean knows you like the back of his hand. And he knows that if he were to propose tomorrow, with a paper ring and a shoebox for a house, you would accept.
But he would never do that — you were his princess, his sweetheart, his love. He was going to make you live out the fairytale of your dreams.
—
It should be illegal to be this attracted to your partner.
Jean’s eyes have been devouring your body ever since you got home, watching you walk around your shared bedroom then head for the bathroom. He leans against the doorframe as you remove your make-up, getting ready for the night as you grab a towel and your skincare products. Sensing his presence, you look at your boyfriend and smile.
“What?” you step closer to the shower before turning on the faucet. Jean quietly moves behind you, wrapping his arms around your middle.
“I can scrub your back?” He whispers against your cheek, groaning loudly when the smell of your perfume hits his nostrils. You giggle, a bit taken aback by his boldness.
“You never just scrub my back.” You point out, and the taller man playfully bites down on your earlobe.
“Did I say just scrub your back?” His hands sneakily find their way on your bare thighs, traveling their way up and under the fabric of your dress. “Scrub your back, wash your hair—”
Your hands rest on his toned forearms, smiling to yourself when you feel him squeeze your thighs.
“Soap my body too?”
This elicits another groan from Jean, and he swiftly reaches for the zipper of your dress. “Alright, let’s take it off.”
You can’t help but laugh at the urgency in his voice, but you’re also deeply flustered by how easy it is to make his self control crumble.
“Don’t forget yourself,” you mutter as he finishes unzipping your dress, taking a step back so you can step out of it and stand in front of him wearing only panties. With deliberate slowness, you undo the clasp of his belt and let it slide free. You thread it carefully through your fingers before gently yanking Jean towards you.
You continue to lift the leather belt through its loops, your other hand undoing the buttons of his white blouse. You let the belt drop to the floor, the sound of metal clanking against the tiles echoing through the bathroom, then you move closer to the man until your boobs are pressed against his bare chest.
The air is charged as you wrap your arms around his neck, a bashful smile dancing on your lips. “I wanna see all of you as well.”
Whatever self-restraint Jean had is long gone the moment he feels your skin against his. His lips crash against yours, messy and hurried as he swallows your sounds with his mouth. His big, warm hands grope your ass cheeks as you press your groin against his, gasping against his lips when you feel the growing bulge against your stomach.
You open your eyes, half-lidded and glossed over as you pull away from the kiss to catch your breath. But Jean captures your lips again, and you gasp when he pushes you up against the cold shower glass.
“I know baby,” your stomach twists at his tone — teasing yet mocking, and you pout at the man when you notice his playful smile. “Look at your nipples, they’re hard.”
He wastes no time in touching you, his thumb roughly grazing over the sensitive bud. Your back arches at the touch, your hand resting on his chest to make a small distance between the two of you.
“The water’s running.”
With a soft push, you put a little distance between the two of you before easing the glass door aside, Jean’s gaze following you. You step under the running water, making sure that your back was facing Jean as your fingers slide under the edge of your underwear. Looking over your shoulder, you send Jean a smile as you gradually work your underwear down and over your hips.
Once fully naked, you hear rustling coming from outside of the shower and smile to yourself as you see Jean yanking his blouse off his body then practically jumping out of his pants and boxers.
“You’re fucking gorgeous, d’you know that?”
You gasp as you feel his hands on your boobs, shamelessly groping and fondling them as you reach for the body wash. You hum in response, pushing your ass back so that it grazes his now fully erect cock. Immediately, Jean folds against you as he rests his forehead against your shoulder.
“Are you okay baby?” you ask and Jean can tell you’re finding this way too amusing.
“Mmmm,” is all he can say as he pushes his cock against your ass, his hand sliding down from your boob down to your stomach. It rests on your pubic bone, and the tall man can tell that you’re slowly losing patience as well just from the way your body was reacting to him.
You shudder at the feeling, hips bucking up. You wish he could just fuck you stupid, but a part of you was enjoying the build up a little too much.
“Was just thinking,” his chin is now propped on your shoulder, eyes staring down at your boobs and the rest of your body. “About how bad I want to fuck you.”
You sigh, cheeks flaring up at his dirty confession. Your hand reaches behind you to cradle his face, and you turn your head to look at him. “How bad do you want to fuck me, Jean?”
Pressing his forehead against yours, Jean carefully nudges the tip of his cock against your wet folds. It’s a euphoric feeling despite the lack of penetration, and he basks in the way your face contorts and twists when he swipes the tip of his cock over your clit.
“Til you feel it in your stomach, baby.”
You bite down on your lip, sighing at his words. “Please.”
The first thrust feels like you have been sent to heaven and back. It feels good, comforting, your warm walls hugging his cock so tight that Jean curses under his breath and bites down on your shoulder to suppress his own noises.
“Fuuuck, you’re so tight. Don’t I fuck you enough, huh? How’s this pussy still so fucking tight?”
You can only moan in response as you start to fuck yourself back against him, a gutteral sound escaping Jean as he watches your ass recoil with each thrust. He only lets you do the work for a couple of moments before his hand hooks under your leg, lifting it up as he starts to fuck you hard.
You gasp, holding yourself up against the wall as your eyes roll back.
The obscene sound of his cock pumping in and out of you fills the bathroom, the large vein that wraps around his dick dragging against your folds with each thrust. And he reaches so deep inside you that it elicits an embarrassing moan out of you, one that has you covering your mouth.
“Don’t hide from me,” Jean quickly removes your hand from over your mouth, his pace quickening. The tip of his cock reaches spots inside you that your own fingers can’t, and you quickly figure out that holding up your leg allows him to reach even deeper if possible.
The light-brown-haired male can no longer hide his own sounds, as the lewd sound of his hips violently slamming against yours were the only thing to reach his ears. The feeling of your tight pussy is the one thing that he can feel in his entire body, and he makes it his mission to make you cum as hard as you can.
“Fuck, you’re taking me so well.”
He holds you up well, making sure that you were balancing yourself well as he continues to fuck you with your leg in the air. Your leg starts shaking when the tip of his cock grazes that spot, and so he frees your leg before wrapping his arms around your body. With embarrassing ease, Jean manhandles you so that you are pressed face first against the glass door of the shower.
“What I’d take to see what you look like right now,” he mumbles against your ear, his cock buried deep inside your pussy. He starts to fuck you again, this time going so deep that you could almost feel him in your stomach.
It makes your eyes roll back, your cheeks stinging from the heat as your body gives out and lets him take full control. You rest your forehead against the glass when the pleasure becomes mind-numbing, your hands reaching behind you to grip his forearms as he continues to fuck you so good.
“Oh my god Jean, oh my god—”
“Don’t stop?” His voice was strained, he was close too.
“Please!”
Saying the magic word always got you what you wanted. Jean’s hips are relentless as he continues to slam the tip of his cock exactly how you liked. Coupled with his hands gripping your hips so possessively, your orgasm hits you like a train.
Your body shakes, goosebumps forming all over your skin as your pussy gushes on his cock. And you can’t stop cumming, Jean’s cock keeps fucking into you as he chases his own release and mutters filthy words of praise against your hair.
“My perfect woman, my pretty wife taking my cock like a fucking champ.” His moan is long and drawn and you cry out even more when you feel his hand go around your body to rub at your poor and neglected clit. “You’re so fucking good for me, you’re gonna cum for me again. Right?” His teeth sink into your earlobe and you sigh, your body temperature rising as you nod.
“Yeah!”
“Good girl.”
Jean gives one final slam of his hips before he’s emptying himself inside your pussy, cock nestled between your tight and warm walls. You take a moment to catch your breath, your body still twitching and recovering from what just happened.
You tell your boyfriend that you two need to hurry and wash up before the warm water runs out, and he jumps in action as he scrubs both your body and his, rinsing with water before stepping out to grab towels for the two of you.
By the time he returns with a warm towel, you’re trembling from the cold.
“Sorry I took too long.” You shake your head, letting him wrap the towel around your body.
“It’s okay,” you smile as you kiss his cheek. “Cover yourself or you’ll get sick.”
Jean kisses your forehead before patting your butt. “Go get dressed, you look like a poodle.”
You feign being offended as you gasp. “Take it back!”
“Thought you liked me for my honesty!”
You shout from the bedroom. “No! I liked you because you were tall and handsome!”
You hear Jean make the same noise you made earlier. “My girlfriend is shallow?!”
“Better break up with me.” you say playfully and Jean pops his head from the bathroom, his face all serious.
a/n: she’s finally hereeee omg i haven’t had this much fun writing something in a minute so i hope yall enjoy it <333 also there is quite a bit of spanish dialogue and it is unfortunately from google translate so just bare w me lmao
synopsis: a tale about two childhood best friends who *gasps* turn into lovers hehe
wc: 16k//// cw include: super fluffy in the beginning they’re so cute, pretty angsty in the teenage part bc well . . . they’re teenagers, mentions of connie being a dealer as an adult, a lot of flirting and banter— now for the nsfw part: kissing, connie being a tease, oral f & m!receiving, fingering, connie humps the bed while he eats it, dirty talk in english and spanish, choking, protected sex turned to unprotected sex, finger sucking, slow sex n’ rough sex, connie cums in and on her pussy, cum eating, aftercare!!!
‘sometimes when i’m lonely, i sit and think about him. and it hurts to remember all the good times.’
february 14th, 2007 . . .
“c’mon y/n! i don’t wanna be late for the valentines party!”
“slow down con, you’re walkin’ too fast!” you cried out, little feet trying their absolute best to keep up with connie’s fast strides. the chilly wind whipped around you both, nearly knocking you over. “make sure you hold on tight to your valentines, i’ll be so sad if i don’t get one from you,” connie giggled, referring to the paper bag full of bratz themed valentines for your entire first grade class.
you responded with a nod, and an obnoxious sniffle, the icy breeze making your nose stuffier by the second. connie looked over at you and giggled once more, “you look like a giant pink marshmallow.” you joined him in laughter, mitten covered hand reaching up to adjust the pink wool scarf your mother had recently just bought you around your neck.
you were wearing a pink coat that was a size too big, along with a big fluffy hat and mittens to match. “momma said i had to wear all this if i wanted to walk to school with you.”
speaking of school, it was just right up ahead! just as you were about to cross the street, connie slammed his arm against your chest nearly knocking you over. “we gotta wait for the crossing guard, remember?!” you looked at him in pure confusion before a woman wearing a neon yellow vest approached you both.
“you two ready?” she asked with a sweet smile. immediately you froze up, the stranger danger sirens in your head blaring. “yes, we’re ready! c’mon, y/n, don’t be scared,” connie took your hand in his, his free hand grabbing onto the crossing guards. as you walked across the street you couldn’t help but be jealous at how connie was never shy around strangers, adults especially.
in his eight years of being on this earth, connie has always been a social butterfly. whether it’d be saying hi to strangers at the grocery store or playing freeze tag with a random group of kids at the park, connie was always a friendly soul to be around.
“thank you ma’am, have a happy valentine’s day!” connie beamed at the crossing guard before dragging you up the stairs to the school.
you immediately relaxed at the warmth that greeted you when you stepped inside. “c’mon, i’ll walk ya to class,” connie gave you a small smile, enveloping your hand in his once more. as connie walked you to class, various students from different grades said hello to him, some of the older kids even fist bumped him! it was amazing in your eyes
“lemme help you with your stuff,” he mumbled, setting his own valentines on the ground beside him. as you took off your mittens, connie unzipped your coat and snatched off your hat, grinning when you whined about him messing up your hair. “momma spent a lot of time making sure my hair doesn’t stick up,” you huffed, running your hand over the slicked part of your bun.
after hanging up your backpack and coat on the hooks outside your classroom, you turned around to see connie giving you a toothy smile, spider-man valentine in hand. you gasped, eagerly snatching the small card with a lollipop taped to it out of his hand. “thank you, connie! i can’t wait to eat the sucker!”
“i have something else for you too, but it’s a surprise! i’ll give it to you at the end of the day, i gotta go!” and with that connie gave you a bone crushing hug before literally sprinting to his classroom, which was just a few doors down.
while you were in the first grade, connie was in second. this however didn’t stop him from trying to see you as much as he could! sometimes when his class was in the hall you’d see that bald little head peek from the door, smiling at you while waving. during passing times for lunch or recess, he’d always look for the girl with the greased up face, and multiple bows in her hair—it was usually pretty easy to find you because you were always the line leader.
“come on, y/n! let’s get this valentines party started!” you heard your teacher call out. with one last glance at connie, your grabbed the bag containing your valentines before headlining into your classroom.
being the enthusiastic seven year old you were, you expected to get quite a few valentines from your fellow classmates, but unfortunately that wasn’t the case. you got a total of eight valentines out of the seventeen children in your class—apparently they thought it would be funny to skip over your basket.
this just broke your little heart.
by the time the day ended you were a puffy faced, crying mess. getting only a handful of valentines had put you in a sour mood, a frown etched on your lips for the entirety of the day. connie had noticed this, and for some reason it made his chest feel funny seeing his best friend in such sad spirits.
as you zipped up your coat you were startled by a familiar voice behind you. “hey! how was your valentines party?! ours was awesomeeee, i got so many valentines and candy—o-oh . . . why’re you crying y/n?”
midway through connie’s sentence you had burst into tears once more, fat, hot tears running down your cheeks and onto your coat. “i-i *hiccup* barely got any valentines *sniffle* f-from anyone,” you covered your face with your hands, tears seeping into the fabric of your mittens.
connie’s mind was racing. what would an adult do in this situation, better yet how would his mom handle it?
without thinking he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you impossibly close. his mommas hugs always made him feel better. he just held you for a minute and let you cry, glaring and sticking his tongue out at anyone who stared at you both for too long. “c’mon, let’s go before a teacher comes,” connie mumbled into your hair.
before you could even process what was happening, connie was dragging you away, holding your hand tightly in his. the second you walked outside and saw your mother along with connie’s waiting for you, a fresh batch of tears brimmed your lash line.
“what’s wrong with my baby?” your mother asked, her lips turning into a frown. you didn’t really pay much attention to the conversation, and you didn’t really care now that your momma was there to make things all better. you just jumped into her arms, buried your face in her neck, and cried your heart out.
“she didn’t get a lot of valentines,” connie muttered, grasping onto his mothers hand.
the walk back was pretty silent on your end aside from tiny sniffles and hiccups. connie held your hand the entire way to your apartment, he tried to make conversation but you just weren’t having it. before you knew it you were finally back home.
“this is for you,” connie mumbled, unzipping his backpack to reveal a pink teddy bear, along with a valentine’s day card.
suddenly the world stopped.
you were still as a statue, your lips turning into a pout as connie placed the items in your hands. “f-for me?” you sniffled, hugging the bear to your chest. connie grinned at you, nodding his head bashfully.
“how sweet! say thank you, y/n!”
you were still for a few moments before throwing your arms around connie’s neck, bringing him in for a bone crushing hug. “those other valentines were probably lame, you can have some of mine from the second graders.” that had you squealing so loud bystanders had to cover their ears.
“thank you con, you’re the bestest best friend ever!” you hugged the teddy bear to your chest again, snuggling it extra hard.
watching your mood do a complete three sixty made connie’s heart swell. which was weird. it wasn’t until lately that every time connie saw you his tummy erupted with butterflies, but . . . he actually liked it?
he liked being around you. he liked the way you always smelt like shea butter and fresh laundry, he liked whenever you would share your snack with him on the way home from school, but what he really liked was that you never tried to dim his shine. connie was a hyper kid, very talkative too, and kids were mean to him for no reason sometimes about it, but you . . . you were never mean to him. you always welcome him with open arms and a smile.
that night, connie talked to his momma about that strange feeling he gets in his tummy whenever he sees you—come to find out it’s called a crush.
“¿explica lo que significa de nuevo, mami?” connie asked, taking a sip of his apple juice. connie’s mom laughed, she folded her hands and rested her chin on them.
“it means you like her, and you care about her, and that’s good! y/n is probably still a little young to understand this, and honestly you are too, but i feel like you’re mature enough to know about this kinda thing. maybe one day when you’re older you can tell her, yeah?”
“yeah, maybe. that stuff is gross though.”
february 14, 2014 . . .
“c’monnnn, y/n. ¡date prisa, chica, date prisa! we’re gonna be late!”
“i know, i know i’m sorry! i totally overslept,” you called out to connie, securing your scarf around you neck. your nose scrunched at the wind that whipped at your face, your lips already beginning to feel dry.
on the decent down the stairs to the sidewalk you nearly slipped, almost busting your butt. “dios mío,” he chuckled, extending his hand to help you down the rest of the way. you quietly thanked him, ignoring the warmth flaring in your cheeks. connie hooked his arm around yours, “hold on to me, i don’t want you to slip again.”
you didn’t protest, you just nodded and quietly thanked him once again. the walk to your school was silent until connie spoke up, “happy valentine’s day.” you looked up at him, giving him a small smile and little nudge to the side. “happy valentine’s day, connie.”
trying to sound as nonchalant as possible connie said, “did you buy any roses to give to anyone? i heard today at nine is the last time to do it.” you quickly responded with a no, your eyes trailing down to the gravel below you.
“do you think you’ll get any?”
you thought to yourself for a moment before shaking your head, “nah i don’t expect it, but that’s okay.” you weren’t bothered by it completely, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t jealous of the girls who talked about getting roses from their crushes. but all was well, your plan for the day was to bury your nose in the latest romantic novel you purchased. the book was probably a little mature for you, but hey, a little make out scene between two star crossed lovers here and there never hurt nobody.
“what about you? did you buy any? plan to receive any?”
you rolled your eyes when connie burst out laughing, nearly stopping your walk entirely to catch his breath. “you’re so dam—d-dang annoying . . . you’re so annoying,” you huffed, unlinking your arm from his. connie wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close to his side once again. “nah, nah, don’t be like that. it’s not my thing though. i didn’t buy any, and i don’t plan to receive any.”
you hummed, kicking a nearby rock with your foot. as you were walking you couldn’t help but smell a faint musky scent. you sniffed, and then sniffed again, this time you got a stronger whiff when you smelt connie. was he wearing . . . cologne?
“is that you smellin’ like that?” you giggled, stuffing your nose in his neck, and sure enough you smelt cologne. for the first time since you were kids you saw connie blush, it was kinda cute, but in a friend way kinda cute. at least that’s what you told yourself.
connie rubbed his glove covered hand over his freshly buzzed hair. “aish! yeah, i put on some cologne, but only because my mom sprayed on a little before i left the house,” he muttered, clearly lying through his teeth.
the truth was, he had asked his mom to buy him some for today, and after all her teasing and pesky questions she caved and got him some. he told her it was for another girl in his class, but really, it was for you to notice and you only.
as the years went by connie’s innocent crush turned into a full blown one. by the time he was thirteen, he kinda had a holy shit moment as he finally admitted to himself that he indeed did have a crush on his best friend. how cliche.
“well it’s nice . . . makes you smell, uhm, grown? i don’t know, but i like it,” your cheeks felt hot as you spoke, and you hoped connie didn’t notice the slight shakiness in your voice as you finished talking. newflash, he noticed, and it filled his chest with so much pride he felt as if his heart was gonna explode.
you noticed the grin on connie’s face and kissed your teeth, “don’t be weird about it, weirdo.” connie smirked, he pulled you in real close for a side hug, then released you. “you’re the weirdo. talkin’ about how i smell ‘grown’, whatever that means,” he cackled, running a few steps ahead of you to avoid getting a smack on the back of the head.
the two of you continued small talk until you, unfortunately, made it to school. “take my hand again, don’t want you to fall in front of everybody right?” seriously, you were this close to punching him. but nonetheless you took his hand, graciously thanking him inside your head for looking out for you.
“i’m gonna go, but i’ll see you at lunch yeah?” connie spoke softly, nudging your side with his elbow. you wanted to be selfish and tell him that he should spend the morning with you, but you bid him farewell nonetheless with a smile on your face. the second he was out of sight a frown took over your lips. you couldn’t help but wonder if he noticed you were wearing a new gloss today, or you changed your perfume scent from lavender to coconut. boys were so hard to read.
the day went by slow, as usual, but when the last period of the day came around things got a little interesting.
“valentine roses! we have valentine roses!” you heard someone shout from the door of your classroom. you took your eyes away from your book to see three students wearing various pink and red articles of clothing. “mm, whatever,” you hummed, looking back down at your book.
a few minutes passed, and just when you thought the commotion was over, one of the students approached you. looking up over your lashes, you raised a brow. “these are for you, all from the same person,” they said, giving you a small smile before handing you three red roses.
your mouth dropped, unable to find the correct words. there was no way this was real right? there was no way someone bought three roses for you. “w-who are these from?” you questioned, running your thumb along the soft petals of the roses. the girl tapped on a heart shaped card that was tied to the stems with a ribbon, “they had the choice to write a message in here. they either signed it or left it anonymoussss.” the girl gave you a tiny smile before walking away, leaving you completely dumbfounded.
with shaky hands, you opened the card.
‘U R 2 CUTE’ the card had said in bold, pink letters, and at the bottom in parentheses it said ‘for real :)’.
you recognized this handwriting all too well.
you nibbled on your bottom lip, a giddy smile making its way onto your lips. you couldn’t believe connie had done this for you. after all the smack talk and fake gag noises about anything romantic, connie was the last person you expected to receive a rose from. and what did he mean by ‘for real’ ? did he think you were cute, did he think you were . . . pretty?
for the rest of the period you sat there, admiring your roses. you had to ask connie about it, you had to! so when the bell rang you made a beeline for connie’s locker. thankfully he was there, unfortunately his friends were too.
when he saw you, he couldn’t help but smile, but then he saw the flowers you were clutching in your hand. there was nooo way he could let his friends find out he actually participated in the rose giveaway.
“um, i’ll see you guys around,” he muttered, slamming his locker shut before making his way over to you. once you were in reach he gently grabbed your wrist, “vamos a casa, m’starving and need a snack.” without any protests you let him lead the way with tiny, minuscule, little hearts in your eyes.
“you really got these for me?” your voice was tiny, barely audible, and if connie wasn’t so close to you he probably wouldn’t have even known you were speaking. he looked at you and then the ground, his cheeks turning bright red. “well, yeah. i thought flowers would be better than another teddy bear.” he smiled at the last part, remembering his last visit to your bedroom.
you were already into plushies and beanie babies big time, and he did no favors adding onto your collection. each of six teddy bears he got you were lined up neatly on your bed, not a head or paw out of place. connie, being the fourteen boy he was of course, wreaked havoc on the poor teddys, tossing them around and making them do obscene positions much to your horror. they all had names as well, but you have yet to reveal them to save yourself from anymore embarrassment.
“this was really nice of you con, i really wasn’t expecting you to do this,” you couldn’t hide the giddiness in your voice as you spoke, your lips breaking into a shy smile. “ay dios mío, please don’t make it a big thing. let’s talk about something else pleaseeeee!” connie dramatically threw his head back, his cheeks so hot if felt as if someone had placed hot coals on them.
“whatever, weirdo.” you giggled, gently backhanding his chest.
after a few minutes, connie pulled out his phone and headphones. “wanna listen to music with me?” you grinned at him, nodding eagerly before taking an earbud. connie only really listened to songs in spanish, and maybe some rnb on side, but he only listened to songs in spanish with you to help you learn the language better. you caught on pretty fast to the basics when you were younger from hearing him and his mom interact with each other, but as you got older connie wanted you to know more. sometimes he’d quiz you and sometimes he’d just say a whole sentence you didn’t understand over and over until you got it right—he was actually a pretty good teacher for a fourteen year old.
as you were walking you kept feeling connie’s fingers brush against your own. your heartbeat quickened, teeth clamping onto your bottom lip as you decided if you should engage or not. i mean, what if it was accident and he got creeped out? but then again, it wasn’t an odd thing for you and connie to hold hands outside of school.
your thoughts were interrupted when connie hooked his pinky around yours, securing them together. you didn’t say anything, too stunned and shy to mutter even a word, but you did give his pinky a squeeze to let him know the action was welcomed.
“did your mom tell you we’re coming over tonight?” connie asked, referring to him and his mother. you smiled at him, and nodded. “of course she did! it’s like—”
“trying saying it in spanish, chica!”
you hummed, racking your brain for the right words and pronunciation. “uhm . . . okay, uh, es como nuestra tradición?” connie tapped on his chin and hummed, he had the most unserious serious look on his face it almost made you laugh.
“¡correcto! i’ve taught my student well,” he smirked, giving your pinky a rough squeeze.
before you knew it you were outside your apartment building. “here’s your card, i’m happy you like the flowers.” there was a slight shake in connie’s hands as he held the card out, thankfully you didn’t seem to notice.
you took the card, an eruption of butterflies swarming in your stomach. without saying anything you wrapped your arms around him, and as you pulled away you left a tiny peck on his cheek. connie’s eyes widened, his body tensing. “t-thanks for the roses n’ the card. i’ll be sure to take care of them and, uh, i guess i’ll see you later!”
“b-bye y/n! prepare to have your butt kicked at mortal combat when i see you!” you laughed on the your way up the stairs, you turned around to give connie one last wave and smile before heading inside.
the second the door to the building shut connie exhaled a deep breath he didn’t even know he was holding. “was that my first kiss? nah, nah, can’t be . . . well, it counts a little bit,” he giggled to himself, turning on his heels to make his way home. the whole walk home all he could think about was the peck on the cheek you gave him.
he took off his glove and pressed his fingers against the spot on his cheek you kissed, he was intrigued to find out the area was a little sticky. he brought his fingers to his nose, senses immediately overwhelmed by the scent of strawberries. ‘strawberry lipgloss . . . nice,’ he thought to himself, a blush creeping up on his cheeks.
the second connie walked in the door of his apartment, he made a beeline for the only person worthy of knowing this information: his mom.
he found her in the kitchen, the smell of her famous pollo guisao wafting into his nose. “estoy casa, mami,” he mumbled, giving her a quick hug from behind. “one sec, hijo, i’m almost done with this. feel free to grab a snack, i bet you’re starving.” connie didn’t need to be told twice, his stomach growling at the thought of some kind of greasy snack.
“alright, that should be good,” she hummed, dusting her hands off on his apron before making her way over to connie, who was munching on a bag of chips. “¿cómo estuvo la escuela?” she asked, taking a seat on the couch next to him. connie hummed, popping another chip into his mouth.
it was silent for a few beats until she smacked him on the back of the head. “w-wha? ow! what was that for, ma?” he whined, rubbing the back of his head. “boy, you know what i wanna know. did you buy the flowers for that girl today?” connie nodded, not being able to fight the grin creeping up on his lips.
“it was y/n, wasn’t it? she’s also the one you wanted to wear cologne for, right?” connie’s jaw dropped, his fist unintentionally crushing the bag of chips he was holding. she smirked at him, reaching a hand over to gently run over his hair. “una madre siempre sabe cuando su hijo está mintiendo, mi amor.”
connie sank further into the couch, his brows furrowing in annoyance. how was she able to read him so easily? “whatever, mami, but yes, it was for her. the b-best part though was when he got to her house she kissed me!—well, on the cheek, but still.”
all connie’s mom could do was smile at her son—ah, young love. “you two are so freakin’ cuteeee!”
“mami pleaseeee stop!” he groaned, covering his face with his hands. her pesky teasing went on for a few more moments before she gave him a serious look. “i have something for you, wait here,” she spoke softly, getting up from the couch and going into her room. when she came back out she was holding a rectangular shaped box.
she sat next to connie and slowly opened the box, revealing a gold cuban link chain. “it was yours dads. i scrounged up every penny i had, and bought it for him on our two year anniversary. él llevó esto a todas partes.” she laughed at the last part, her lips turning into a sad smile.
connie took a closer look at the chain, his lips turning into a frown. “you sure, mama? i know his stuff is important to you,” he whispered, but his mom shook her head, letting out a little sniffle. “i want you to have it, mi cariño . . . he would’ve wanted you to have it. just promise me one thing.” she took the chain out the case, and gently placed it over connie’s head.
“excuse my language when i say this, amor—wear this shit with pride, just like your dad did. he was a good man, with a great life, n’ a good family and i want all the same for you, okay?” she chuckled when she saw a stray tear roll down connie’s cheek. “no tears, amor, no tears. just promise me that one thing.” connie sniffled and nodded his head—
“i promise, mami.”
february 14th, 2018 . . .
“this fuckin’ girl,” connie groaned, his head tilting back to look at the cloudy, grey sky. he had a card in one hand, and a bouquet of flowers in the other for none other than you, his lovely best friend. he settled on a bouquet of pink tulips this year, deciding to switch it up from the usual roses he gave you.
his ears perked up when he heard the sound of someone coming out of your apartment building. there you were, looking cute as cute as ever in your oversized baby pink coat, along with a hat and mittens to match. “i know, i know, i’m sorryyy,” you giggled, taking careful steps down the slippery stairs.
“yeah, yeah whatever,” he smirked, looking you up and down before holding up the card and roses. you gave him a toothy grin, happily accepting the gifts from him. “thank you con, eres tan dulce.”
connie tongued the inside of his cheek, “ah, it’s nothin’. c’mere.” connie reached an arm out, tatted hand gently grabbing your coat to pull you in for a hug. the smell of his cologne had you relaxing into the hug, your arms tightening around him.
if any stranger were to see you two right now, it would obviously look like you two were together, but unfortunately for connie, that was not the case. it gets worse, you actually have a boyfriend. some motherfucker got to you before him, and he gets mad about it everyday because he had so. much. time. to make you his. you’ve been with the guy for nearly seven months and connie’s jealousy never dimmed.
“alright, alright, let’s get going before we miss the bus,” you mumbled into his jacket, ever so slowly detaching yourself from his embrace. connie huffed, but nonetheless followed after you.
you didn’t link arms anymore, and he didn’t wrap his arm around you—apparently that was a big no no for your boyfriend. connie kinda understood him in a way, if you were his and anyone laid a finger on you he’d go ballistic. at least you were able to listen to music together on your walk to the bus stop, and on the ride to school.
you whipped out your phone and headphones, passing one to connie. “man, no you’re always listening to those korean guys. i can’t understand shit they say,” his chest puffed up if faux annoyance because he knew he’d listen to whatever you played anyway. “well, i don’t care about none of that so here.”
“mmcht, fine. una niña tan mimada . . .” he grumbled, playfully side eyeing you. he loved getting on your nerves.
“i’m not spoiled.”
“yes you are.”
“okay and what about it, constance.”
“woah, my government name? my bad buddy, didn’t mean to strike a nerve there!” he chortled, raising his hands in surrender. if you weren’t connected by a pair of headphones you would’ve pushed him. “anyways . . . how did it go with your mom last night? i’m sure she was so pleased to see the new ink on your hand.”
connie’s shoulders slumped, “bro, you would’ve thought i killed someone the way she reacted. she was saying shit in spanish that i didn’t even know existed, shit was terrifying.” you doubled over in laughter at this, your hand slapping against his arm for stability.
“tch, it’s not funny, y/n. my head still hurts from how hard she threw her sandal at me,” he whined, tenderly rubbing the back of his head. he was expecting his mom to get a little upset about the tattoo, but figured maybe she’d show a little mercy because it was a tribute to his father—that was not the case. my mans got a very stern talking to, and a sandal to the back of the head.
“tuh, well that’s what you get! you know how she feels about tattoos.”
with a huff, connie waved you off, choosing to tune into the music blaring in his right ear instead. you didn’t have to wait long for the bus to come, though you didn’t mind the comfortable silence. when connie found two seats, he allowed you to go first. he always sat on the outside of seats, or walked on the side where the street was—he was a gentleman through and through.
“are you and your mom comin’ over tonight? i convinced my mom to take your favoriteeee.” you snorted, and looked over at him, “but, connie . . . you hate salmon.” connie shrugged, nudging your elbow with his own.
“i don’t mind it too bad when i know you like it so much.” his heart clenched at your smile, but the feeling soon faltered when you frowned, your teeth pulling your lip back to pick at the skin. he made a noise of disapproval, “hey, don’t do that. ¿por qué te ves así? ¿qué pasa?”
your lip popped back into place, and connie’s frowned deepened seeing a small speckle of blood. “well, like, my mom will be going over there, just . . . not me. i’m gonna be out with—”
oh.
connie’s lip twitched, and then slowly turned into the fakest smile you’ve ever seen. “that’s . . . fine. it’s fine. i probably won’t stick around for too long anyway.” your eyebrow perked up, “oh?”
he adjusted in his seat, his knee no longer touching yours. you didn’t understand why it bothered you so much, but it did. it bothered you a lot, actually.
you poked his shoulder, “did you have other plans tonight?” connie shrugged, his focus now on plastic wrapped about his healing tattoo. “jean and ony were talking about this party goin’ on tonight, and you know, since you ain’t coming tonight i might as well join em’.”
“yeah, i guess.” you mumbled, shrinking into your seat. connie noticed the change in your body notice immediately. you thought he was mad at you, it was written all over your face. it couldn’t have been further from the truth, his anger lied with your boyfriend, the dickhead breaking your tradition for the first time since you were kids and stealing you away from him for the night.
connie grinned at your pouting lips. he tapped your chin, taking it between his fingers. this was probably crossing a boundary, but you surely weren’t in a rush to pull away from him, at least that’s what it looked like to him.
“no te veas tan triste. nestoy enojado contigo, así que deja de hacer ese puchero, ¿sí?” you hated when he did this, his eye contact was always so intimidating. your nod was slow, like you were still unsure if he was telling the truth or not. he hummed, releasing your chin. “i promise,” he spoke softly, grabbing the gold, cuban link chain around his neck, “that i’m not mad.” thankfully you seemed to relax after that.
connie was a lot of things, but a liar was not one of them. he took pride in being an honest, good man, much like his father was. but sometimes people, and by people he means you, are stubborn and not so easy to convince, so he started this little thing that whenever he grabs his his dads chain it means he is telling the honest truth, and nothing else.
your eyes lit up the tiniest bit, your frown replaced with a small smile. “te creo, connie. te lo prometo.”
“ooo, look at you using your spanish. una chica tan inteligente,” connie smirked, patting your head three times. oh, how connie loved the the language sounded rolling off your tongue. he noticed you sounded more confident nowadays, and it made his heart swell with pride. “heh . . . thank you. now move your behind, this is our stop,” you grumbled, nudging his knee with yours.
when you got off the bus you were elated to see your boyfriend, eren yeager, waiting at the steps for you. you turned to connie, “i’ll see ya later, thanks again for the flowers! i’ll leave them with ms. jones for the day, she’ll watch them for me.”
“i’ll see you at lunch, okay? we’ll get sum to eat, unless your boy toy already has plans with you.” connie’s eyes zeroed in on the brunette behind you, his lips curling up in distaste. he didn’t care for eren if wasn’t obvious. he had a reputation, and not a good one, and you were too sweet to deal with anything of that nature, but somehow the boy swept you off your feet and you were smitten.
when the most popular boy at school asks you to be his girlfriend, you don’t say no, it’s a clear no brainer—connie thought that logic was bullshit, but he kept that comment to himself.
“well lucky for you he didn’t mention any plans about a lunch date, although he didn’t mention dinner plans either . . . but i’m sure it’s just a surprise.” bells went off in connie’s head when you mentioned that, but he stayed silent. you always found the bright side in things, he admired that about you.
“mm, well, i’ll see you later then. have a good rest of your day, princesa.” he squeezed your shoulder tenderly before walking off. he side eyed eren as he walked away, and ugh, the boy just pissed him off so bad. his face looked entirely too nonchalant for having the most beautiful girl in the city all for himself.
the day went by painfully slow, and then it was lunch. connie waited for you in the foyer, already having a place in mind lunch, but you were nowhere to be found. when he checked in with your favorite teacher, ms. jones, he was shocked to find out you had went home early. apparently you weren’t feeling well.
he decided to text you and check up on you, only to find out your phone was on do not disturb. now this was odd. you were never the type to keep your phone on silent, unless absolutely necessary, afraid that you might miss an important call or message.
leaving school early? phone on do not disturb? connie did not like where this was leading.
he opened instagram to look at your profile, and sure enough, his suspicious were confirmed when he saw the highlight you had dedicated to eren was no longer there. connie’s grip on his phone tightened, he was pissed. this man had the audacity to break up with you on valentine’s day? absolutely not.
i’ll spare the details, but just know it was a very eventful lunch period for paradis high.
forty five minutes later . . .
“use this to ice that,” the nurse treating connie muttered, her tone filled with annoyance. connie huffed, slouching back. this folding chair was really starting to hurt his ass.
the door opened and there revealed connie’s very angry mother, her lips balled up so tight it had connie shivering in fear. “Levántate ahora,” she hissed, clenching her fist at her side. connie let out a long sigh, the knot on his head throbbing harder by the minute.
the walk out of the office was very humbling to say the least, his mother wasting no time cursing him out in spanish, and it continued like that until they got home.
“i mean . . . what were you thinking getting into a fight at school?! you know that stays on your record, tu idiota!” connie’s head fell in his hands, an exasperated sigh slipping past his lips. he really didn’t feel like talking about this. he just wanted to see you.
“imagine how y/n will feel knowing you started a fight with her boyfriend, she already must know you don’t like—”
“¡ya ni siquiera están juntos, mami! . . . he broke up up with her.” it was silent for a few beats. “¿lo sabes con seguridad?” connie shrugged, doing his absolute best to explain the situation with you leaving school early, your phone being on do not disturb, and his missing highlight from your instagram. all his poor momma could do was sigh. “this is absolutely no reason to get into a fight, and get suspended over, constance. i’m very disappointed.”
before connie could respond, there was a knock at the door. his mom looked at him and then the door, “yo lo conseguiré, tú quédate aquí. this conversation is not over.” connie slumped back into the couch, his heart stinging at that word ‘disappointed.’
he didn’t pay too much attention to the visitor at the door, until he saw who it was. there you were in your pink and red, heart patterned sweater, the jeans you were once wearing now replaced with hello kitty pajama pants. “i have to run to the store, so i’ll give you two a minute, but make it quick please, y/n. he’s in big trouble.” and with that you two were left alone.
you slowly walked over to his spot on the couch, taking a seat next to him. you sniffled, “ . . . why’d you do that?” he was silent, that only frustrated you more. “do you realize he’ll probably never talk to me again? he already thought i was cheating on him with you, this only made things worse! i know you don’t like the guy, but connie, i like him a lot, i-i think i might even love him.”
this had connie gritting his teeth, and balling up his hands.
“dios mio, y/n, give me a fucking break. you don’t love eren, you don’t even know what love is, you’re seventeen.” this had you scoffing, how dare he try to turn this on you? “and what the hell do you know about love? you’ve never even been in a relationship for goodness sake!”
“i may not have been in a relationship, but i can tell you whatever you and eren had goin’ on was not love. he never took you out, bought you gifts, i mean shit, the only reason the guy posted you online was because you begged him to, and it was only twenty four hour stories. don’t even get me started when he forgot your birthday—”
“that’s enough!” you cried, jumping up in front of him. connie followed suit, his chest nearly touching yours. you two have had your fair share of fights, but this is by far is becoming the most serious one.
“what? can’t handle hearing that your boy toy was a shitty boyfriend?” he hissed, narrowing his eyes at you. your hands balled into fist, your french tips pinching the skin of your palm. “w . . . w-why do you even care so much huh?! why does him breaking up with me effect you so much, con, it’s getting exhausting!”
“¡porq ue estoy enamorado de ti, chica estúpida!”
your body tensed when connie pressed his lips against yours. it was fast, and awkward. it was his first kiss.
when he pulled away, you couldn’t help but feel small under his intense gaze. his cheeks were as red as tomatoes, and his nostrils were flaring—he was breathless. your lips started to wobble, a fresh batch of hot tears brimming your eyes. “connie, i—”
suddenly the door opened, and in walked his mother. he looked at her and then to you. “deberías ir,” he muttered, taking a step back from you. each movement he made was like a hammer to your heart, shattering it slowly with each step.
“m’kay *sniffle* i-i’ll see ya,” your voice cracked at the last part, and it had connie’s heart clenching. this wasn’t supposed to happen, none of this was. when he pictured himself confessing his crush to you, him sending you out of his house a minute later was not apart of the vision.
that night you and connie both cried in your mothers’ laps, hearts aching and yearning to text the other, but too scared to at the same time, afraid it would make things worse.
“lo arruiné todo, mami. probablemente esté muy enojada conmigo,” he muttered, his eyes fluttering shut when he felt her nails scratch at his scalp. she tsked, and shook her head. “you didn’t ruin anything, amor. y/n cares about you so much, you two will work it out. te lo prometo, mi amor.” he muttered out something that she couldn’t quite hear, but she just let him be, allowing him to peacefully fall asleep on her lap.
while connie was asleep he received two messages.
new message from day one : i’m not mad at u, but i think we need to have a talk tmmr about what happened today
new message from day one : i hope you’re okay, ily
you and connie did talk about it, and after a conversation that lasted four hours, you both came to an agreement to not date. connie mentally beat himself up the entire way home afterwards, because that was in fact not how he felt, but just from your tone he figured you weren’t interested. little did he know you were.
after he graduated you two still talked, but not as often, until you just didn’t talk at all. by that time you were freshly graduated, and preparing for a summer full of fun before starting college. you decided to choose one in your city, too scared to leave your momma alone, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.
connie took an interest in selling weed, and has since moved out of his moms apartment, where to? you had no clue.
february 14th, 2024 . . .
“girlllll, let’s go! you got thirty seconds to get down those stairs before i leave you!”
“you better not! it’s hard to get down these stairs with heels on!” you cried out, clutching onto the stair railing as you carefully went down. a sight of relief blew past your lips when you made it down safely. before getting in your friends car you tugged your skirt down, not that there was much to grab onto anyway.
“this skirt is entirely too tiny,” you grumbled, hopping in the passenger seat. anytime you made any sudden movement it was riding up your thick thighs, and you almost took it off, but you knew you’d be crucified by your best friend if you didn’t go through with wearing it.
you were heading out for a night at the club, and since it was valentine’s day, this certain club was allowing ladies to get fifty percent off all drinks.
the entire way there you were fiddling with your skirt, afraid that you were showing too much skin. “don’t worry about your outfit, ‘kay? you look good as fuck, y/n,” you friend grinned at you from the side, giving your arm a tender squeeze. “yeah, you’re right . . . i do look good. really good.”
before you knew it, you had arrived, your stomach doing somersaults when your friend turned the car off. she undid her seatbelt, and turned to you, she set her hands on your shoulders, and looked dead in your eye. “we’re gonna go in there and come out with some cuties, got it?” you let out a shaky breath, nodding your head.
the club was loud, and packed, but nonetheless there were some cute faces in the crowd. luckily your friend found two open seats at the bar, she was quick to secure them and immediately ordered a lemon drop for you. “i feel bad you won’t be able to drink since you drove,” you pouted, resting your arms on the bar.
your friend waved you off, insisting that she wouldn’t need the liquid courage like you would. it was shady, yes, but she wasn’t lying. you weren’t the slickest when it came to men, so it was a good thing you were a pretty girl.
“how’s your mom?” she asked, swiftly thanking the bartender when they set your drink in front of you. you hummed, tapping your fingernails against the glass. “she’s okay, we’re not out of the woods yet, but hopefully she’ll be in remission soon.”
a couple days after your twentieth birthday you had found out your mother was ill, and although you were willing to take a break from college and take care of her full time, she insisted otherwise. ‘this is your time to find yourself, and maybe someone special,’ she had said with tears in her eyes.
your friend gave you a warm smile, “that’s amazing, y/n. i’m really happy for you guys. now where are all the cute . . . guys, ” your brows pulled together as her sentence trailed off, her focus on something, or someone, behind you. “you see somebody?” you asked, taking a sip of your drink.
she nodded with a smirk, “there’s one right behind you. the one in the gallery dept. hoodie. he’s gonna be mine tonight.” you giggled, pushing your hand against the bar to get a look at the mystery man. your eyes widened when you realized it was onyankopon.
“oh . . . i—i know him. i went to school with him,” you muttered, turning your seat back. “were you two high school sweethearts, or something?” she teased, pinching your side. this had you scoffing.
“please. we were never together, but he was friends with my bes—um, ex best friend, connie.” her eyebrows shot up in surprise. “right, right. i remember you mentioning him. do you know if they’re still cool? *gasp* maybe they’re here together! i’ll call him over.”
“n-no, no no no. there’s no need to do that forreal,” it was hard to hide the nervousness in your voice. your friend hummed, tapping on her chin in faux thought. “you’re right, let’s go over there instead,” and with that she was hopping off her seat, her hand wrapping around your forearm.
you were stunned to say the least, your body stiffening as she tried to pull you from the bar stool. “but wait, wait, what if they actually are here together? y’know i haven’t seen connie in years and i just—”
you were silenced by a hand being placed in your face. “my dear y/n, no one on this earth go ahead in life by sitting in their behind, not come onnn.” you whined and protested when pulled again, spluttering out something about how you haven’t finished your drink. it took some serious convincing, and tugging, but your friend eventually got you up, wasting no time making a beeline for ony.
his back was facing you, but that didn’t stop your friend from tapping him on the back. “what’s good—oh, y/n! what’s up, girl?” ony grinned, pulling you in for a hug. you awkwardly hugged him back, giving his back a few gentle pats. “o-oh nothin’ much,” you were very grateful the music was so loud that he couldn’t hear the shakiness in your voice.
“what are you ladies up to tonight?” he asked, beckoning you more into his section. there were a couple other guys, and some girls taking up seats on the lounge couches, all immersed in their own conversations, besides one man. he sat on the farthest end by himself, a blunt perched between two tatted fingers. he was scrolling on his phone, his foot tapping along to the music every now and again.
“oh, you know, just a girls night out. i was actually hoping we could hangout with you? you seem nice . . . really cute too.” you couldn’t help but snort as your friend turned on her charm, ony immediately turning to putty in her hands. “why don’t you go mingle, y/n? i’ll have ony order you another drink, and don’t panic if you see you know who,” she gave you a sly wink before waving you off much to your dismay.
you decided to take a seat next to the loner with the blunt, wondering to yourself if he was even allowed to smoke that inside. your eyes drifted to the rings on his fingers, all coated with tiny diamonds. you leant to the side, close enough to where he could hear you, “i-i like your rings!”
and suddenly you were met with a pair of very familiar brown eyes staring back into yours. “connie . . ? !” you said his name as it were forbidden, your chest tightening. he looked at you for a moment, his brows pulling together as he examined your face, you figured it all clicked for him when he started grinning at you like the cheshire cat.
before you could say another word, he stood up, his reaching down for yours. “uh i—” you looked over at your friend who was already looking right at you. she had a giddy smile on her face, her hand waving in a not so subtle way to tell you to go with him. with no excuse left, you took his hand, the warmth from it sending shivers up your back.
as he lead you out of the section he passed the blunt he was smoking to ony, yelling something about how he’d back right back. while he lead the way, your eyes were focused on the way his hand grasped yours. it felt comforting, familiar.
when you got outside the cool, city air felt like heaven, but it didn’t stop goosebumps from forming on your skin when connie leant against a blacked out vehicle, his eyes zeroing in on yours.
“wow, s’really you.” his head tilted back in a laugh, giving you a small peek at the grills on his teeth. “¿cómo has estado, princesa?” his head tilted, awaiting your answer.
you wanted to speak, you really did, but the words would not leave your mouth. you were stunned to say the least, not only from seeing connie after years, but also how different he looked. he was way buffer, and now had a bit of facial hair, his signature buzzcut stayed the same. what caught your attention the most was the tattoos that covered his arms and neck. his few pictures on social media didn’t do him much justice.
“hello? anybody home?” he chuckled, waving his hand in front of your face. you blinked three times, your mouth opening, then closing.
“hi.”
you sounded strained, almost like you were in pain, it made connie laugh. “hi, y/n.” the way he smiled at you made you feel . . . weird. he was looking at like you like he wanted to devour you whole.
“sorry, it’s uh, it’s been a minute since we’ve seen each other in person. you look . . . different, i-i mean you look the same, but, not? i’m sorry—”
“hey, hey, relax. it’s just me remember? no need to be nervous, even if some time has passed.” he leant forward, grabbing your hand in his, he pulled you closer then let go, your hand twitched at the loss of contact.
he had a point. it was just connie, your childhood best friend, someone you’ve known longer than you haven’t.
you cleared your throat, clasping your hands behind your back. “well, i’ve been good. i’m sure you’ve seen that college is going well. met some new people, had a few failed relationships, you know, typical stuff.”
“thas’ wassup. i heard about your mom, i’m real happy for you y/n. ustedes dos no merecen nada más que bendiciones en esta vida.” warmth spread through your cheeks at his words.
“did that translate, or have you been lacking on your spanish, hm?” he teased, secretly hoping you have in fact been continuing to speak spanish. you giggled, waving him off. “i understand, and i really appreciate it. deberías visitarla algún día, le encantaría verte.”
his grin widened, “yeah? i figured she’d hate me after what happened with you and my mom. i’m sure you’ve heard some awful things from her about me.”
he was correct. whenever his mother did visit his name would somehow come up, and then it would lead to the same speech about how she felt like she failed him and how she hated his life choices. you agreed about the drug selling part, you weren’t very fond he chose that as a source of income, but when it came to the other awful things she spewed about him, you found it rather hard to believe. there was no way she was talking about your connie.
he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, his eyes drifting to the gravel. “i don’t blame her though, like at all. i gave her hell for months about . . certain things. i thought it was just best to keep my distance after i moved out. she hasn’t reached out to me, and vice versa.” this made you frown, and without thinking you wrapped your arms around him.
“oh, uh, thanks,” he stiff at first, but eventually relaxed into the hug, “feels good to hug you again.” you slowly nodded, sighing with content. it really was nice to be in his embrace again. his smelt different though, more mature, more expensive.
“you know, even though she says all that, she still misses you like crazy. momma told me so herself.” connie squeezed you a bit tighter, his chin finding place at the crown of your hair. “your momma has never been one to lie, so i’ll take your word for it,” he chuckled, leaning back against the car, taking you back with him.
your nose bumped into his sturdy chest, you looked up at him, giving him an apologetic look. he gently squeezed your side, “don’t worry about it.”
it was silent for a few beats. he cocked his head to the side, giving you his signature smirk, “why’re you lookin’ at me like that hm?”
“it’s just really good to see your face . . . i missed you connie. in case you don’t remember, you kinda stopped talking to me the summer i graduated.” connie licked his lips, the feeling of guilt slowly trickling over him. you looked like you had more to say, but as always you cut yourself off, your teeth picking on your bottom lip to stop yourself.
you nearly whimpered when his hand cupped your face, his thumb slowly pulling your bottom lip out. “veo que todavía tienes ese hábito. termina lo que ibas a decir, usa tus palabras.” you melted in his arms. his touch was so gentle, as if he was petting a week old kitten.
you took a deep breath, “well, it hurt connie. it hurt a lot, and like, i felt guilty, but i shouldn’t have felt guilty because . . . well, because i didn’t do anything! you kissed me, and then you ask me to leave like i did something wrong, a-and then when you agree to talk to me you acted like a fucking zombie, just nodding along to everything i said, not explaining literally anything at all. you completely ghosted me after you graduated, and then i have to hear from my mom that you’re fucking dealing?! i mean, what were you even thinking? and i don’t believe the bullshit about it ‘just being weed’, l-like y-you were an actual *sniffle* —
you hadn’t even noticed you were crying, you also hadn’t noticed you stepped three paces away from connie, too wrapped up in your anger. connie let out a shaky sigh, “sigue adelante.” connie was stunned. you were never one to raise your voice at someone, let alone yell at them. in a world full of people who ran over you your whole life, him included, he was more than happy to receive all the pent up anger you had built up.
you sniffled, lips wobbling as you choked down a sob. you probably looked crazy right now, but then again this probably looked like a normal situation seeing as you were outside a nightclub.
“you just left me hanging . . . friends don’t do that connie, n-not best friends that you’ve known longer than you haven’t. there was so much stuff i wanted to talk to you about, but i didn’t even know if you would give me the time of day.” by now you were close to hyperventilating, all the emotions you had been setting aside for years hitting you at once.
connie pushed off the car, outstretching his arms towards you, he pulled you in for a tight embrace, whispering little things in your ear to calm you down. “it’s okay, it’s okay, i’m here. i’m so sorry, you have no idea, cariño.”
“then explain yourself,” your muttered, words muffled by his shirt.
well, here we go.
“i wasn’t . . . i wasn’t being completely honest when we had that conversation. i didn’t want to be just friends, i wanted to be more, but then i thought ‘well, what if things don’t work out?’ so, i pushed you away. you have to believe me when i say dealing was the last thing i wanted to do, but if you want to live a good life as quickly as possible you have to do things you’re not proud of. you gotta understand, i was around some bad people for a while, the kind of bad people that would hurt someone i care about. i didn’t want that to happen, and my mom was already giving me enough shit so i left. i’m so sorry y/n, i wanted to explain but it was just too much, pero estoy aquí ahora.”
you didn’t say anything, so he continued. “el universo nos volvió a reunir por alguna razón, verdad?”
“yeah . . . i guess.”
“so stop those tears. y’know i hate seeing you cry, ‘breaks my heart,” he muttered, wiping a stray tear off your cheek. “do you hate me?” he whispered, and his chest filled with relief when you shook you head.
“nunca podría odiarte, connie”
connie inhaled deeply through his nose, his face moving another inch close to yours. your lips parted, but nothing came out except a weak ‘please’. he hummed, brushing his nose against yours, before softly pressing his lips to yours. it was slow, but desperate, which was expected since he’d been waiting years to do this.
what connie didn’t expect was for you to deepen the kiss. your lips parted, tongue swiping against his bottom lip in urgency. a chuckle rumbled in his chest, how cute.
he grabbed the fat of your hips and switched your positions, your back now pressed against the car. he cupped your jaw, his thumb pressing down on your chin. connie’s tongue traced over your lips before pushing into your mouth, earning a squeak from you.
“heh, te gusta eso?” with a gulp, you nodded. since when did he learn how to do that? it kinda irked you knowing some girl, that wasn’t you experienced these kinds of kisses from connie.
“get outta your head, we’re supposed to be kissing, not thinking,” he muttered against your lips, pushing his front against yours. the cogs in your head started turning when you felt something hard. was he worked up just as much as you?
connie cradled your jaw in both his hands, desperately kissing you with every fiber of his being. “c-con—”
“lo sé, cariño, lo sé. y’have no idea how much i’ve waited for this. from the moment you kissed me on the cheek ten sum years ago, i knew i didn’t wanna feel anyones lips on me, but yours.”
you whimpered. “and as much as i wanna bend you over my car, n’ take you right here, i have a friend who needs to get home safe, and so do you.” he pulled his lips away from yours, a thin line of spit connecting you. he was right, unfortunately.
“i wanna see you again . . . tomorrow, i wanna see you tomorrow. can you make that happen?” you were clutching onto him so tight, afraid he’d slip right through your fingers. connie smirked, his fingers dancing down your hips, and to the tops of your tights. he pulled the material forward before letting it snap back into place, earning a squeak from you.
“i can make that happen. should i roll us a little sum?” you shook your head, “eh, i don’t really like smoking, it makes me paranoid.” you laughed at the last part, and god, it was so nice to hear your laugh. your eyes trailed down to his lower half, then back to his eyes. with a slow bat of your eyes you said, “i like wine though . . . cuanto más dulce, mejor. do what you will with the information.”
connie’s dick twitched. “noted. very much noted, princesa.”
as happy as you were to know you’d be seeing connie again real soon, something kept crossing your mind. “um, connie?” you whispered, playing with the hem of his shirt. he noticed your eyes were avoiding his, you were nervous.
“those people, the bad ones, do you still deal with them?” it was a valid question, connie had a feeling you’d bring it up sooner or later.
“no, i don’t, i got outta that months ago. i found me a new supplier through a friend and now i sell a lil weed on side, nothing big. n’ then once i finish this apprenticeship at this tattoo shop i’m at, i’m done for good. no estaría haciendo todo esto si supiera que tu vida estaría en peligro.”
your eyes fluttered shut when he lips pressed against your forehead. he wrapped his fingers around the gold, cuban link chain around his neck, “you can still be skeptical, i don’t blame you, but just know i treasure your existence too much to play with it like that.”
“i believe you, con,” your voice was small, but connie was still able to hear. he kissed your forehead a final time, “c’mon let’s go inside, it’s cold.” your fingers laced with his, and a warmth that you’ve never felt before coursed throughout your body.
when you got back to his section of the club, you sat in the nearest open spot, your heart beating a mile a minute. after all these years wondering where you two had went wrong, you finally got a little clarity. you still had questions, but decided not to pry. as connie talked about his experience with those certain individuals, you could tell by the strain in his voice that it was a hard topic.
“by the smile on your face, i’m assuming it went well?!” your head whipped to the side to see your friend, a proud smirk on her lips. you nibbled on your lip, your eyes flicking to connie who was sitting by himself once again, blunt in hand. you would definitely call the conversation a success.
february 15th, 2024 . . .
new message from bffie ౨ৎ : i hope you like stella rose black bc that’s what i got
new message from bffie ౨ৎ : send me your addy, ima leave in 20
your stomach twisted in knots as you texted connie your address. you didn’t know what to expect from your hangout, all you knew was that there was going to be sexual tension and wine, a very dangerous combination.
with a shallow exhale, you stood up, quickly making your way over your full body mirror. you examined your outfit carefully in the mirror, it was cute, but something was missing. “ . . . i need a headband,” you muttered, scrambling to find the perfect, pink headband to complete the outfit.
before you knew it, connie was texting you that he was outside your apartment.
“momma! i’m gonna go out with connie for a while, i’ll be back soon.” you pressed a quick kiss to her forehead, and she mumbled something about how you looked like a doll.
when walked outside connie was waiting at the bottom of the stairs for you, flowers and card in hand. “lemme help you down, lord knows what’ll happen since you’re in heels,” he snickered, extending his hand out towards you.
“yeah, yeah, whatever,” you grumbled, taking his hand. you let out a tiny gasp when he pulled you close, his body pressing against yours. “mm, you look cute. i like . . . whatever this is,” he chuckled, pulling at the soft material of your jacket.” you mumbled out a thank you, your eyes drifting to the pink roses he was holding.
he held them out to you, his lips lifting into a sly smile. “i know i’m a day late, but these are for you.” the roses were the prettiest shade of pink, and the card had some cheesy pun about sushi on it. “gracias, connie. they’re beautiful.”
“you’re very welcome, amor. now c’mon, i got your seat all warmed up for ya.” he literally had the seat warmer up full blast, already knowing you were probably freezing your ass off in your skirt.
his car smelt like weed and pine scented air freshener, it was oddly comforting. “feel free to adjust the heat to your liking, it won’t take long to get there though, only like fifteen minutes.” you hummed, placing your hands neatly in your lap.
the ride was pretty silent, but you didn’t mind it because his hand was glued to your thigh the entire time. “m’not making you uncomfortable being too touchy am i?” he spoke softly, giving your thigh a gentle squeeze. you answered with a quick ‘mm mm!’ and eagerly placed both of your hands on top of his.
you were so cute, and you didn’t even know it, you were practically killing the poor guy.
“good . . . good. y’know i’ve come to realize i’m really hands-on when i want something, ‘specially if it’s a pretty girl.” your lips parted, then shut, unable to think of anything to say that wouldn’t make you sound dumb. when did he become such a flirt?
“eh, i guess it just came naturally as i got older.” connie chuckled, and you just about fell out when you realized you had in fact said that out loud. “sorry i didn’t meant to say that out loud, b-but it’s true! you keep leavin’ me flustered it’s annoying!” this had connie laughing so hard the corners of his eyes crinkled shut. “you want me to stop?”
“ . . . no.”
twenty minutes later . . .
“make yourself comfortable and—ah, don’t mind her. she loves meeting new people,” connie chuckled, patting the grey pitbull, that had started sniffing you the second you walked inside, gently on the head. you become quickly enamored with the dog, bending down and cooing at it excitedly. “what’s her name?”
“her name is kali, i got her a few months after i moved in here. she makes good company, very sweet, and very snuggly as you can see.” snuggly was indeed the correct word to use, and you were loving it. “she’s too precious, con, i’m sooo jealous,” you giggled, scratching underneath kali’s chin.
connie’s apartment was very . . . him. dark brown, leather furniture covered the living room, along with a sixty five inch tv mounted on the wall. his windows were huge, giving you a pretty view of the entire city, and along with them was a big glass door that lead to the balcony.
“this is . . wow.” your hands were clasped behind your back as you looked around, what caught your attention next the various pieces of art along the walls. “you’re into buying art?” you giggled, turning around to look back at connie, who was still by the front door. he pursed his lips, a hand coming back to scratch at the back of his neck.
“i dabble in it every now and again. shits way too expensive to have a whole collection,” he chuckled, finally making his way over to you. “which one do you like the most?”
you nibbled on your lip, taking your time to examine and admire each framed piece.
“i think i like . . . this one. the eyes look so real, it almost looks like a picture, and it looks like there’s some emotion in them, but i can’t quite pinpoint it,” you muttered, and connie hummed in agreement. he went on to explain that it was his favorite painting as well, and that it was the cheapest one of the bunch.
“this older guy was having a viewing, and barely anyone was there so he walked me through the whole exhibit. these eyes? they’re his wives, shit, everything he painted in there was of his wife. the day the viewing was held was the anniversary of her death, i thought it was kinda . . beautiful, so i bought it. only cost me fifty bucks, can you believe that?”
your jaw dropped the tiniest bit, you stepped closer the painting, taking in every little detail once again. “so i’m assuming the look in her eyes—it’s love?”
connie nodded, taking a step forward as well, he was behind you now, you could practically feel the warmth radiating off of him. “he said when he was painting this he was picturing the look she gave him on their wedding day, said he saw a spark in her eyes that day that he’d never seen before, and never saw it again. cool as hell right?” he whispered, leaning over to rest his chin on your shoulder.
“y-yeah, s’really cool,” you turned your head, your nose bumping into his, “it makes sense you’d have something like this it, uh, suits you?” connie grinned at your words, now standing up straight.
“thank you, y/n . . . you want some wine?”
you were quick to nod, your feet swiftly turning to follow him to the kitchen. he rummaged through he cabinets and pulled out two glass cups, “now i don’t have wine glasses, so these’ll have to do.”
as he poured the wine, you went ahead and made yourself comfortable on one of the bar stools at the kitchen island. your feet slowly swung back forth, and when connie slid the glass over to you, you wasted no time taking a long sip. “s’good? es lo suficientemente dulce para ti, linda niña?” he asked, leaning on the island.
you felt your cheeks get hot, recalling your comment from last night. “yes, it’s sweet enough, thank you.” you made brief eye contact with connie before looking back down at your glass, twirling it carefully in your hands.
suddenly you blurted out, “you have a lot of tattoos now.”
connie smirked, taking a sip of his own wine. “yes, yes i do. you wanna see them?” you nearly choked on your spit, breaking into a fit of coughs. see connie’s tattoos? you didn’t know if your heart, or your pussy, could handle that, especially at the rate you were drinking this wine.
connie took your silence as a yes, and before you knew it he was shedding his hoodie, leaving him in thin tank top. he was completely jacked now, the swirls of ink around his arms and chest only adding on to his attractiveness. he looked like a completely different person.
“wow, you really wasted no time taking your clothes off huh?” you giggled, raising two fingers to beckon him closer. connie kissed his teeth, he tried his absolute best to look annoyed, but he couldn’t! not when your laugh sounded like the prettiest of symphonies.
“man, whatever. now you wanna see just my arms, or do you want so see everything?” his eyebrows raised up mischievously, and you knew right then and there you were absolutely done for . . . and you were gonna need more wine. “um, i guess everything since you’re already stripping, but gimme some more wine first!”
after a topping off your wine, connie removed his tank top, revealing more inked skin. you eyes were as wide as saucers, your jaw nearly dropped to the floor. “oh my goodness, connie! didn’t this shit hurt?!” without thinking you extended your hand, you ran the tips of your fingers over his chest, shuddering at the thought of a needle piercing his tan skin all over.
connie’s breath hitched. “y-yeah, it hurt like bitch. took two sessions to finish too, but it’s hard right?” your head bobbed up and down in a mindless nod, your hand still glued to to his chest. “this one didn’t hurt too bad,” he grumbled, pulling the waistband of his sweats down slightly to reveal a tattoo that said ‘muérdeme’ right on his v-line.
“bite me . . ?” you mumbled, fingers trailing down to trace over the letters. connie let out a low hum, goosebumps rising all over his skin. “you like it?”
you blindly reached for your glass and took a small sip of the wine, you looked into his eyes while you swallowed before nodding. “i like it a lot, i love all your tattoos, s’making me a little hot actually,” you giggled, leaving connie stunned, and a little turned on. the wine was definitely giving you a little extra confidence.
he took a step towards you, and then another until your knees were touching the tops of his thighs. he didn’t lean down, no, he waited for you to tilt that pretty head up and look him right in his eyes. when you did you wanted to look right back down at the floor. he was staring at you like he wanted to eat you whole.
“should i put my shirt back on, or do you want me to keep it off?” he didn’t laugh, he give you that signature smirk, he looked more serious than you’ve ever seen him. his thumb tapped against your bottom lip, “¿me oyes, linda chica? ¿on o off?”
you let out a shaky breath, “o-off. off please.”
connie was quick to grasp underneath your thighs, and pick you up, his hands moved downwards to cup your ass for a better grip. “if you want me to stop you better tell me now,” he spoke lowly, setting you on the island. before even kissing you the first thing he did was nuzzle his face into your neck, inhaling your familiar, but now slightly different scent.
your hand gently cupped the back of his neck, “you still like me?” yes, you completely ignored what he said, but that question had been burning in your brain since the second you locked eyes with him the previous night.
he lifted his face out of your neck, now standing at his full height. “um . . . did you not see how quick i was to kiss you last night? or how quick i was to start taking off my clothes just now? c’mon, y/n, usa esa linda cabecita.”
your lips pushed into a pout, “don’t be a dick, just confirm it for me so i can have peace of mind.”
“yes, y/n, i do still like you, love in fact. i’ve only ever loved two women in my life, you and my momma, and that’s how it’ll be until i’m in my grave.”
“b-but connie, you’re only twenty four . . . don’t you think you might love another before your time comes?” he quickly shook his head, not even bothering to give your question any thought. “you and my momma. that’s it, that’s all—well, kali too, but you know what i mean,” you both laughed at the last part, but you were soon interrupted by connie smushing his lips into yours.
“mmph! w-well i have no other questions so please continue,” you panted against his lips, you shakily reached your hand down to tug him closer by the waistband of his sweats. your panties were starting to feel uncomfortably sticky, the soft cotton sticky lewdly to your folds.
connie wasted absolutely no time lifting you up once more, he mumbled something about taking you to his bedroom before making the slow, but successful journey there. his lips never once left yours, happily swallowing up every whine and moan you let slip out.
you eventually had to pull away for air, though he did not make it easy, his lips chasing yours each time you pulled away.
“i—i like your room!” your lips parted in a squeal when he dropped you on the bed, your headband flying off somewhere behind you. “not cool, eres tan molesto,” you huffed, sitting up on your elbows.
connie’s chest rumbled with a laugh, you were really too cute.
“what, you think just because i’m in love with you i won’t give you shit? estas muy equivocada, mami.” connie softly grabbed your ankles, pressing a kiss to each one before pulling you forward. “you mind if i peek up under there?” he chuckled, slowly getting on his knees.
“n-no go ahead, just . . . be nice. it’s been a minute since i’ve gotten a wax, m’goin’ for a more natural thing you know?” no, no he didn’t, but he truly didn’t care if you were bald down there or not, he was gonna eat it regardless.
his hand reached up to the button of your skirt, “i don’t care if you got a little hair down there, y/n. we’re both grown, yeah?” as he was speaking he undid the button, then the zipper. you didn’t say anything, instead you just nodded and lifted your hips up, allowing him to slip your skirt off.
connie slowly ran his hands along the insides of your thighs, his mouth watering at the sticky silhouette of your pussy. you gasped when he pulled your panties to the side, your dripping pussy on fully display for him. “dios mio . . . she’s prettier than i thought,” he mumbled, his fingers brushing over the small tufts of hair on your mound.
“constance. don’t p-pet it . . . that’s . . . w-weird . . .” your sentence trailed off into nothingness the second you felt his tongue circle around your clit. he was going soft, so soft you barely felt anything, and then he licked a fat stripe up your folds before sucking your clit into his mouth.
your elbows eventually gave up, and you flopped back on the bed with a soft thud. connie hummed against your pussy, his fingers tugging your panties to the side more to get his proper fill. when he felt your hand nearly smack on top of his head it gave him the biggest fucking ego boost.
“f-faster please,” he heard you sigh out, and he was more than happy to give you what you wanted, except your panties were starting to become a bother. “no problem, gorgeous, i just gotta—”
RIPPPPPPP
you picked your head up to see if your ears were deceiving you, and unfortunately they were not. connie had completely torn your panties in half, he tossed the garment aside like it was nothing and looked back up at you, a dopey smile on his lips. “you have absolutely no manners,” you panted out, too embarrassed to even glance at your torn, discarded panties.
he kissed the inside of your thigh, mumbling something you couldn’t decipher into the skin, probably something snarky knowing him.
“spread your legs mama, i’m gonna take my time with you—unless you have somewhere to be after this?”
you shook your head, grabbing the back of your knees to open them as wide as you could. “i texted my mom not to wait up on the way here, she’ll call if she needs me. now no more talking,” the last part came out rushed, barely audible to connie as you pushed his head between your thighs.
despite the well rounded man he had become, connie was still a little shit at heart, always teasing you even during moments like these. every time you’d moan, he’d moan just as loud, every time your hips raised the slightest he’d push them right back down, rewarding you with a nice pinch on the thigh.
he was a messy eater, not ashamed in the slightest at how sloppy he sounded, but at the same time it didn’t help that you were practically leaking like a faucet either. each time his tongue swiped over your clit another gush of wetness dribbled out of you, waiting to be lapped up by connie.
his cock throbbed in his sweats, tip drooling at the thought of you wrapped around him.
“o-oh connieee,” you gasped out, your head tilting back into the mattress. you were so wrapped up in your pleasure that you hadn’t even realized he pushed you further up the bed, making just enough room to lay between your thighs. the pressure felt sooo nice on his dick—now he could really enjoy this.
“te sientes bien, baby?” he asked, spitting on your clit, earning a shy whine from you. his hips started to rock into the bed, and with each movement it had him moaning into your pussy, the vibrations bringing you closer and closer to your peak.
you moaned out a weak yes, your hips circling around his tongue. he gave you full control now, allowing you to move your hips, and fuck his mouth as you pleased.
you nearly fell out when you suddenly felt him push a finger in, curling it almost instantly. he let you adjust at first, making sure you weren’t hurting at all before adding another finger.
shlick! shlick! shlick!
you were so close, he could feel it. you were dripping all onto the sheets, creating a creamy puddle beneath your ass, and if connie weren’t as pussydrunk as he was, he would’ve definitely teased you for it.
“i-i’m—!”
suddenly a hand wrapped around your throat and connie was towering over you, his chain dangling right over your nose. “do it, i wanna see your face when i make you cum for the first time. ven en mis dedos, princesa, déjame ver esa cara.” your eyes rolled back, hands grasping at connie’s wrist as you came a cry.
“there it is—mierda, such a pretty girl,” he groaned, slowly sliding his fingers out of your pussy. he rubbed three fingers between your folds, simply feeling you up now. “mm, i like your pussy. she’s cute n’ soft, just like you, i can’t get enough of either of ya.” your back arched into his chest when he pinched your clit, “you’re so responsive too.”
“t-thank you, can we—can we do some more?” you could spot the huge print in his sweats from a mile away, and you were just about done waiting to see what was underneath. you cupped his bulge gently, giving it a soft squeeze. “lemme see, con.”
“m’kay, baby,” he muttered, giving your lips three kisses before getting off the bed. with shaky arms you sat up, giving his lower half your full attention.
wow.
“what?”
“what?” you asked, blinking multiple times. he was looking at you like you had sprouted a second head. “you said ‘wow’ and i couldn’t decide if it was a good wow or a bad one, so i’m asking . . . duh.”
you kissed your teeth and scooted closer to the edge of bed, you couldn’t help but internally cringe at the wet sounds your pussy made as you moved. “come closer,” you whispered, moving to sit on your knees. he took two steps forward, his palms feeling clammy when you leant forward, nose nearly touching his cock.
he was hung, thick too, almost intimidatingly thick—but you were no bitch, and you liked a challenge. he let out a small breath through his nose, it sounded like a laugh. “¿crees que puedes manejar eso?” he mused, raising a thick brow. you looked at him through your lashes, “yes.”
your tongue poked out, giving his drooling tip an experimental lick. oh, you liked that.
connie’s head tilted back, his adams apple bopping with you wrapped your lips around him, your tongue caressing the underside of his cock. “d-don’t do too much, i don’t w-want to—fuck, bust in your mouth so . . . soon.” all thoughts, or any concept of one were wiped from connie’s brain when you started to suck, little droplets of drool spilling from your mouth and down his shaft. he was too far gone.
you made a noise around his cock when his hand cupped underneath your jaw, the other finding purchase on top of your head. he found a grip on your hair and slowly started to move his hips. you moaned around his dick, and relaxed your jaw, allowing him to sheath more of his cock down your throat.
“good fuckin’ throat,” he grunted, pushing your head down as low as he could get you. your hands smacked against the bed, hot tears brimming your lash line. you choked around him, and that earned you a very deep groan from connie, his head tilting forward to get a good look at you. you looked stunning with a mouthful of dick, his dick specifically.
he yanked you back by your hair, allowing you to gasp for some very much needed air. “you’re— you’re good at that *pant* so fuckin’ good at it.” he slapped his cock against your lips and cheeks, smearing any excess pre and spit on your lips and chin.
“how do you want it?”
you already had a position in mind. “f-from the side, please.”
that’s how you ended up on your side, stark naked, with connie behind you, his chest feeling scorching hot against your back. “im’a go slow at first, but after that i can’t tell you what’ll happen,” he chuckled, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. he took your hand in his, mumbling lowly for you to hold your leg up for him.
despite being on birth control, you both decided it was best for him to still use a condom, but that logic slowly faded away when you felt his dick slip between your dewy folds, fat tip nudging against your swollen clit. “goddamn, y/n,” he groaned into your shoulder, shallowly his hips back before pushing them forward.
“t-that feels nice,” you hummed, nuzzling your face into his pillow. connie tapped his tip against your sticky clit three times before aligning himself with your entrance, “you ready, mama?” you nodded, moaning out a pathetic plea for him to hurry up.
when he finally pushed inside you both gasped. you could already feel your arm getting weak from holding your leg up, and he wasn’t even fully inside you yet. “i got you,” you grunted, putting his hand over your own.
he started slow at first, real slow, making sure that you felt every vein and ridge that he had to offer you. it didn’t take long for your pussy to adjust, and before you knew it he was giving you slow, but swift thrusts. “joder, eso está apretado,” he all but growled, his fingernails digging into the fat of your thighs.
“y—you don’t know how long i’ve waited for this, to be close like this. eres un sueño, amor.” all you could do was moan, and nod along to his praises. you wished it was possible to be even more physically closer to him than you were, but this would just have to do to.
your hips suddenly had a mind of their own, moving back to meet connie’s swift thrusts. “yeah . . fuck me back, c’mon mami.” his eyes flicked between your bodies, your hips moved back against his with so much desperation it was almost too precious.
“c’mere.” his arm slipped underneath your head, his hand snaking around your throat. he hiked your leg higher, and pulled you closer, fully sheathing his dick inside you. “o-oh!” you squeaked out, hand coming behind you to cup the back of connie’s head. he let out a pretty moan right into your ear, his tongue lolling out to lick over the shell of it.
his pace had changed drastically, he was now fucking you like he hated your guts. his strokes were quick and shallow, his pudgy tip slamming against your g-spot each time he pushed in. you couldn’t help but think how nice this would be raw . . . fuck it.
“c-connie,” you whined, patting the back of his head softly. connie’s thrusts halted, he still deep inside you, cock throbbing almost painfully at how tight you were gripping him. “what’s the matter, mi cariño?”
“off . . . i wan’ you to take the condom off, if that’s okay.” it was silent for few beats, the only thing being heard were your labored breaths. “look at me,” connie whispered, not moving an inch until your eyes were on his. he slowly pulled out, gauging your every reaction as he did so. he quick to rip and condom off, blindly tossing it in the nearby trash can by his bed, and he was even quicker to thrust inside you once more, your mouths dropping in synch. you finally got feel him, all of him.
connie resumed his brutal pace, his grip on your throat tightening the tiniest bit. “h-harder,” you choked out, resting your hand on his. he snickered, squeezing your neck roughly before releasing it, “you like that? you like getting choked by me?” you head shook furiously, a raspy ‘uh huh!’ slipping past your kiss bitten lips.
the squelching of your pussy got louder and louder, alerting connie of your oncoming orgasm. “shit, you’re about to cum—aren’t you?” his question ended with a squeeze to your neck, and that’s what triggered your second orgasm of the night. your eyes crossed and your body spasmed, your pussy was clenching around connie so tightly it almost had him cumming.
“f-fuck yeah, get that nut out, baby. feel good f’me.” connie milked your orgasm as long as he could, even going as far as pushing down on your lower tummy to make sure you got it all out.
your body trembled in his arms, and to soothe your whines he whispered praises left and right into your ear, some in english, some in spanish.
it wasn’t long before that fluttery feeling in your tummy came around again, and just like that you were all over connie, your lips smushing against his sloppily in a clash of tongue and teeth. “l-lets go again, i wan’ you on top,” you words were muffled by lips, but he understood loud and clear.
he wanted you to feel him as deep as possible, so that’s why he had you hanging halfway off the bed, your knees pushed to your ears while he beat your guts in. each clap his thighs against yours had your skin tingling, your nerves feeling as though they were on overdrive.
“ohhh f-fuck,” you sobbed out, tears free falling from your eyes. connie’s thighs were practically shaking. he’d been holding back his load for so long there was no telling when he’d lose it. “tu coño es tan bueno mami, tan tan bueno, me encanta.” his eyes zeroed in on the way your pussy struggled take his cock, your folds were all soaked n’ puffy, you looked divine.
“m-me estás follando tan bien, connie, vas a hacer que me corra otra vez!” your hand smacked against his chest, fingers nails digging harshly into the tatted skin. that had connie pulling out with a hiss, a stray spurt of cum shooting from his tip and onto your tummy.
his head dropped pathetically, chest having as if he just got done running marathon. “can’t say stuff like that, baby, y-you don’t know what you’re doin’ to me,” he grunted, pushing his hips back so his cock was laying directly between your chubby folds. he slowly pushed inside, his eyes fluttering shut at the warmth that enveloped him.
his head drooped down, his lips capturing yours in a searing kiss. “we got all night, con, jus’ do it. i won’t be going anywhere, don’t worry.” you words brought him bliss, a feeling of relief washing over him when he realized you weren’t going to allow him to slip from your fingers ever again.
he rolled his hips forward, teeth clamping onto his bottom lip so hard he was sure to draw blood. his hand found its rightful place around your neck, squeezing it roughly every now and again. “that’s that fuckin’ shit, so damn wet for me, mama,” he cursed, pressing his body into yours. he was so deep now, you could practically feel him in your tummy.
the air was suddenly pushed from your windpipe when connie squeezed your neck, his hips stilling as his orgasm washed over him. he wasn’t quick enough to stop himself from finishing inside, but still he pulled out nonetheless, jerking himself off until the rest of his cum covered your pussy.
connie wiped his forehead slowly with the back of his hand, his body feeling almost completely numb. he smirked at the white substance dripping from your hole, and without even thinking he scooped some up and brought to his lips.
“ugh, connie, don’t be nasty,” you whined and shut your thighs, only for them to be forced open by connie. he swiped his fingers over pussy again, this time he was offering you some. “c’mon just a little taste, you almost begging for some before, so here,” he pushed his fingers closer to your lips. with a huff you wrapped your lips around the digit, your eyes not once leaving his.
he smiled down at you, giving your head a soft pat, “buena chica.”
sometime later . . .
after a much needed shower, and some hot tea to help your sore throat, connie had you bundled up in his bed, wearing nothing but one of his t-shirts. an episode of friends was playing quietly in the back on his tv, but you were more interested in watching the man laying next to you.
“con?” you whispered, poking his naked chest gently. his eyes slowly drifted to you, his lips lifting into a small smile. he had smoked before joining you in bed, the smell of weed still slightly attached to him. he raised a brow at you, “yes?”
“what are we?”
“y/n.”
“yes?”
“you wanna be my girlfriend?”
your lips parted then shut again, too stunned to speak. you couldn’t wrap your head around the situation at all, you went from speaking everyday, to not speaking for years, and now after just reconnecting he was asking you to his girlfriend—literally what the hell.
“yes . . . y-yes i’ll be your girlfriend connie. just stay out of that shit, i want us to be happy, lavish lifestyle or not,” you mumbled, brushing your nose again his. connie gentle stroked your jaw with his thumb, “you don’t gotta worry about me getting back into that, i got too much to lose now.” with a dreamy sigh you nuzzled into his touch, lashes fluttering shut.
that night for the first time in six-something years, connie got a full good nights rest, with you tucked by his side.
a/n: merry christmas everyone and happy birthday Levi :D
———————
Levi loves you fresh out the shower.
You know how particular he is about cleanliness, so when his partner is all clean and soft…he adores it, more than he will admit.
So when you climb into bed beside him, hair damp and skin soft from your lotion, your not surprised to find him automatically pulling you towards him and onto his lap, straddling his muscular thighs.
“You showered?”
“Mhmm.”
Levi buries his face into your neck without a second thought, you shiver as you feel his nose brush against your neck.
He slowly meets your eyes. “you smell good.” he comments, a hand coming up to run through your hair.
He leans forward slightly, lips brushing against yours.
his lips latch onto yours, the hand in your hair moving to your cheek, holding your face as he kisses you.
You both slowly break away, you giggle as you notice the slight flush of his cheeks.
“Your blushing, Levi.” You tease.
“…i’m not blushing.” His eyes dart away from your face.
Levi’s greatest weakness was you, and despite his best efforts at hiding it, you see right through him.