it’s almost comical. four of the most dangerous men in the world, the infamous 141, crammed into a pastel pink nursery, standing shoulder to shoulder as they surround a stout, handmade crib, staring down at the babbling babe inside. she’s precious. the sweetest creature any of them have ever seen, with john’s nose and your frown, chin slick with drool, her sparse tufts of hair sticking out every which way. five weeks old, and she already has them all wrapped around her chubby fingers.
“she’s fuckin’ perfect, cap’n,” kyle murmurs, grinning so hard it must hurt his cheeks.
john smiles just as wide, his pride a tangible thing. even the sleepless nights and the stress of a newborn couldn’t dull it. it suits him, all this newfound domesticity. they can all remember a time that the captain abhorred the very thought of it, would’ve scoffed if you told him what would become of him. that was before you, before her. “isn’t she? she looks just like her ma.”
“thank god for that.” simon bites, though even he’s gentled himself in the presence of such innocence. john pretends not to notice how he’s looking at johnny, how the lieutenant’s hand lingers on his lover’s arm as the scot coos at the baby. it’s not so scary, he wants to tell him. it’s nothing like they feared it would be.
johnny claps his captain on the shoulder, misty-eyed and starlit. “you did good, ol’ man. we’re proud of you.”
“thanks, sunshine.” john squeezes his scruff, his chest warming at his words. it means more to him than he can say, that pride. it means the fucking world. “m’glad she’ll have you, all of you.”
“she will.” simon vows, stern, final. “so will you, and the missus. you’ll always have us, cap’n.”
he’s never doubted that, not for a moment. they have, and always will be, john’s. just like you, just like this little life you’ve created. not even the devil could take them from him.
although, “there’s sumthin’ i ought tell you,” he’s been avoiding it. not because he’s afraid, or because he regrets it, but because john price’s never been very good at change. but he’s learning. sometimes, all you need is a leap of faith. now he’s finding his footing on the other end of that chasm. it isn’t so bad, with you around to stabilize him.
“i’m gettin’ out. i signed the papers monday morning.”
simon’s the only of them who isn’t surprised. his lips twitch into what could almost be called a smile. pride, is what it is.
kyle’s brows raise, his gaze soft, gentle but mournful. understanding, but still dejected. his first boy, his sweet gaz. he knew he’d take it the hardest. “yeah?”
“yeah. i’ve got new orders, straight from the top. a new mission. she’s it. they’re it.”
for a moment, it’s silent, but it’s not loaded. not the settling of dust in a formerly active war-zone, just the sun setting over something that’s long since due. it’s his boys coming to terms with the fact that they’ll have to fight the good fight without him from now on. but he’ll still be here. his home will always be theirs, a soft spot to land when it’s time to shed the kevlar and fatigues.
it’s johnny who breaks it, of course. he’s a mouth almost as big as his heart, that one. “good for you. you deserve it—all of it.”
“so do they,” simon adds, nodding at the angel-faced infant. him and john both know, better than most, that you cannot have just one foot in. it’s all or nothing. he’ll never be able to walk onto the field with the same confidence again, without fearing for what he’s leaving behind. that sort’ve second guessing is what gets people killed. and he won’t be the one to tell you your husband’s dead.
john looks to kyle then, and the sergeant softens. “m’happy for you,” he means it, too. john’s done more for this service than any of them. johnny’s right, he deserves this. every beautiful, hard-earned bit of it.
his daughter chooses that moment to stir, emitting a wail so loud that it seems to rattle the very walls. john only laughs, cooing at her as she wriggles and fusses, reaching into the cot to pick her up. johnny grins gleefully—he’s been waiting weeks to meet her, after all. they all have.
“oh, i know, i hear you. were you feelin’ left out, sweet girl? is that it?”
“i told you not to wake her up,” the sergeants jerk like children caught with their hands in the cookie jar, wide-eyed and contrite, as they see you standing in the doorframe, arms crossed over your chest, despite the sheen of amusement in your eyes.
“i didn’t!” john protests, though the grin he’s fighting does nothing to argue his innocence. “she wanted to say hello to her uncles, is all,”
“mm. m’sure she did.” your front doesn’t last long. in fact, it crumbles the second john steps forward to press his lips to yours, ignoring kyle and johnny’s playful gagging. you melt into it, baby smushed happily between the two of you, grabbing at fistfuls of your hair and babbling senselessly at her parents.
john heads down the stairs after detangling your locks from her eager fingers, with two of three soldiers hot on his heels. you linger, waiting for simon, smiling gently when the lieutenant makes his way to you to wrap an arm around your shoulders.
“alright, si?”
“yeah, love, m’good.” his eyes crinkle as the sound of johnny’s sweet laughter filters through the house, following by john’s instructions to be careful of her head! it’s a far cry from the gunfire and carnage the 141’s so accustomed to. it’s a nice change. it heals something in him, cauterizes a wound that’s been bleeding for far too long. he has john to thank for that. and you, most of all. you’ve made a home, not only for yourself, your husband, and your child, but for this rag-tag family you inherited along the way.
“you’ll take care of him for us?”
“always.” you promise, and he knows it to be true. they kept john alive long enough to get him here. now, it’s all up to you.
the lieutenant has no doubts that you’ll do right by his captain, as you always have.
it was supposed to be a sweet moment — but your husband satoru can never keep his big mouth shut.
“there’s a baby in mama’s tummy!” you say enthusiastically, keeping your tone light and airy.
you’re glowing, and satoru has his arm wrapped around your waist, a hand splayed protectively over your stomach which was still flat but soon to swell with the life he successfully put in there once again.
your little girl is bouncing on her toes in front of you both — eyes wide and sparkly as you tell her the big news, the inevitable and innocent question on her tongue.
“but… how did the baby get in there?”
your smile freezes, and you feel satoru tense beside you.
satoru, taking this moment to be the menace he is, lights up as if he has been waiting for that question his whole life.
the moment you hear that familiar slow inhale, you turn your head just slightly, noting the subtle twitch of amusement in his smile. you glare.
“well,” he starts, a cheeky little grin growing on his smug face, “mama swallowed a seed.”
your little one blinks, still lost. “like a watermelon seed?”
you close your eyes and pinch the bridge of your nose.
“satoru,” you hiss under your breath in warning.
but your mischievous husband is already biting back laughter, his broad shoulders trembling.
“ah, well, something like that, pumpkin.”
“satoru.”
“what?” he raises his hands, feigning innocence before crouching down to ruffle your daughter’s hair while she looks genuinely alarmed now — like she’d never eat the fruit again.
“she asked. i answered. and technically — i’m not wrong.”
you give him the look — the one he usually ignores. “you wanna be the one explaining why she’s telling her preschool teacher something inappropriate like that… again?”
satoru just grins. “could be worse. i could tell her the truth, that i—”
you slap a hand over his mouth. “don’t you dare finish that sentence in front of our child.”
“mmph—,” he mumbles behind your hand, eyes crinkling and twinkling with joy.
for a moment, you forget she’s there until she speaks up again. your daughter tilts her head in childish innocence.
“why’s she dolling herself up like that? we’re not going anywhere, we’re not even having guests. it’s just nanami coming over”, satoru questions, leaning against the doorframe of your little daughter’s room, arms crossed and one eyebrow raised.
“it’s because nanami is coming over”, you reply, resting your head against his arm as the two of you watch your little girl lay out her nicest clothes on the bed, carefully deciding which one to wear.
“i don’t get it”, satoru frowns.
you glance up at him and flatly point out what was already more than obvious — “she has a crush on him” — and then instantly feel your husband’s body tense up beside you. “come on?” you add, “you haven’t noticed? i mean, she lights up every time he visits. she even calls him kento. and earlier i caught her eyeing my lipstick—”
“okay, stop”, he cuts you off, a hand dragging down his face, which by now is deprived of any color. “of all people, she chose to have a crush on him?”
“so you’d be fine if it were someone else? is that what you’re saying?”, you smirk.
“no”, satoru snaps. “she’s not allowed to like anyone but me. especially not that stiff grade 1 sorcerer with the weird ties while her father — a special grade with excellent style — stands right in front of her”, he sticks out his bottom lip in a childish pout.
“says mr. blindfold”, you let out a snort, and he shoots you a look — “you’re supposed to be on my side, dear wife. in sickness, health and petty jealousy as you vowed on our wedding day”
“she’s just a kid, satoru. it’s a phase that all kids go through — crushing on some adult who’s the age of their father. it’s not even real feelings, just cute and harmless admiration”
“not me”, he sulks. “i never crushed on anyone but you— wait”, he suddenly turns to you — “did you go through that phase too?”
“well, yeah, i—”
“you mean i wasn’t your first ever crush?!?!?”
you stifle a laugh. “you were my first ever real crush, satoru”
“who was the bastard who dared to catch your eye before me?”
“…it doesn’t matter. i was like, five or six back then”
“i don’t care if you were in diapers, give me the name”
as it turns out, your daughter having a crush on nanami was no longer the main crisis in the house.
dark lord tom being extremely interested in watching a death eater’s wife breastfeed her newborn……….
you went into a private room only for him to enter a little later. there is no hiding from him, and you get up to leave and hastily cover yourself out of modesty but he tells you to pay him no mind. you assume he’ll dismiss himself after taking something from the room quickly but he just stays and even steps closer, watching as your baby suckles from your breast
you grow increasingly nervous and embarrassed as he draws near, curiously peering but still expressionless. you wished to escape, but you know he’d take that as disrespect and who knows what would become of you and your child if you made such a rash decision. so, you just sit there and let him look
your baby had trouble latching just moments ago, so their cheek is messy with milk. and it’s not very often tom acts on his impulses, but spotting a droplet of it lingering on your little one’s cheek — his hand rises and you flinch instinctively. but all the man does is swipe it away slowly and gently with his finger, your child barely reacting to the touch of the powerful dark wizard. you’re frozen…… but not before you’re left with your lips parted in shock, heat rising to your cheeks
hovering over you, the dark lord licks the milk — that came from your breasts — clean from his skin almost instinctively. you fluster, quickly looking away. though it’s him too who’s unnaturally stiff and quiet now, eyes dilated and staring down at the spit slicked finger before his sights catch onto where your baby is suckling greedily on your nipple, wishing it were him that were drinking a mother’s sweet milk instead……
The day was balmy and pleasant outside, streaks of golden light painting the surfaces in your kitchen with a warm glimmer. By the window is where you deftly cut apples, adding them to the ever growing snack platter for your two greatest loves with the two greatest stomachs.
In fact, when you glanced up you caught a glimpse of your little girl squealing joyfully as she pedaled across the yard on her tiny training-wheeled bike, Satoru roaring as he chased after her with hands outstretched, undoubtedly playing the role of some pretend monster.
Nothing warmed your heart more than watching him prowl ridiculously across the yard, his white hair mistakable for pale yellow under the sun’s bright invariant rays. And your daughter, with her matching headful that somehow defied gravity more than her father’s, beaming the widest patchwork grin now that she had a few teeth missing. A fond chuckle escaped you as you set down your knife against the cutting board, the widest smile tugging at your own lips. Moments like these, they’re just so precious, so picture perfect that you can’t help but itch for a photo so that they might last forever.
Just as you abandon your snack preparations to find your camera however, you hear the pitchy scream of your daughter— more distressed than her earlier joyful shrieks. You know Satoru would never let anything happen to her on his watch, and you trust him to keep to that. Still— you found yourself rushing for the back door with anxious haste. Mother’s instincts or something of the sort, you suppose.
“Daddyyy!! Get off, you’re too big!”
The little girl whined, the crown of her head along with her two tiny hands shoved against Satoru’s lower back. It was apparent she was trying and failing to budge him very far along the concrete path that wound around the backyard to the front. Her mini fists beat against him in frustration as he only let out an unrepentant snicker, hunched over into a crescent and too large hands gripping the small handle bars with multicolored tassels on the ends of them between his knees. Not too unlike a bear on a unicycle. Fussily, she asserted, “it’s my turn!”
“But daddy just got on!” He complained back, knees hiking up further whenever he pushed on the itty bitty bicycle pedals, a chiming ring!ring!ring!!! sounding as he fiddled with the bell. “C’mon, push me, push me, push meee!”
His daughter gave a few more adamant shoves that had her little pink sneakers skittering backwards against the ground before she sighed sharply in defeat. Her lips were pursed into an adorable little pout, her arms folded indignantly over her ruffly gingham short sleeve.
“If you don’t get off, I’m gonna tell mommy on you.” She threatened gravely. It spelled trouble for him— mommy threats were no joke to be taken lightly.
“You don’t need to do that, cupcake!” Her father’s chuckles faded into an uneasy hum when he mulled over the hypothetical consequences— your wrath. His smile shrank into a mirroring pout. “Right…please? You know how mommy gets when she’s cranky at—“
“Satoru.”
At your firm address your husband’s startled onto his feet, tripping over the bike in his urgency to get to you. Your daughter’s tantrum face had morphed into an adorably impish smirk as she witnessed yet another of her dad’s scoldings.
“Angeeel! I was just thinking about how miserable my life would be without you, my heart.” Satoru would drawl placatingly, flashing a nervous grin to couple his flattery. He stooped before you with both his hands gently caressing your daintier one and arm, peppering noisy kisses all the way from the tips of your fingers to the slope of your shoulder. “Did you know you’re glowing? ‘Swear to god, everyday you get more—“
“Save it,” you snorted, stern demeanor letting up despite yourself if the way your eyes crinkled at the corners in amusement was anything to tell by.
“Yeah, save it!” Your daughter piped up in triumphant giggles now that you’ve come to her defense against Satoru’s mischief.
Satoru’s jaw dropped agape with an over the top scoff, his head whipping to her, then you, then her then you then her and back again.
“Look what you’re teaching our little girl,” he grumbled pitifully, expression spuriously sullen. “She’s gonna think she can walk all over me...”
You laughed at that, even going the extra mile to taunt him. “Can’t she though?” That earns you a wispy chuckle, a few words affectionately mumbled words against your temple as he trailed a path towards your mouth.
“Yeah. Just like her mommy,” Satoru intoned mirthfully, featherlight against your lips in the baritone he knew would make your stomach do a little flip-flop before pressing a kiss to them.
At the sight of the two in your own little world and completely neglecting her existence, your daughter puffed her cheeks. Her eyes that were somehow darker despite her father’s strong genes turned wide and imploring, hands above her head now.
“Daddy, pick me up!” She demanded, but in the whiny pleading tone that tugged at both your heart strings. “I want kisses too…please?”
Without hesitation Satoru was boosting her up overhead until her gappy smile reappeared, settling her on his hip between you. “‘can’t say no to my little angel,” he cooed.
With only a look over your daughter’s head unspoken words pass, both you and your husband simultaneously humming drawn out “mmmm”’s against opposite sides of her tiny cheeks before smacking exaggerated “muah!”’s that had her squealing cheerful giggles.
Moments like these, so precious and authentic and with her, with him, last forever echoing in your heart.
genre - Fluff • Family au • dad!Chan
word count - 0.6k
summary - family apple picking makes sweet memories.
⋆｡‧˚ʚ Masterlist ɞ˚‧｡⋆
The orchard smells like apple cider and hay. Like fall came to life just to give you this moment. The air is crisp, just cool enough to turn the tip of your nose a cherry red. Your girls have gone from yelling about wanting a hayride, to begging to do the corn maze and run through the pumpkin patch. Now, they’ve moved onto what your eldest calls “apple hunting”. You blame Chan for offering them apple pie that he doesn’t know how to make.
Your youngest is perched on Chan’s shoulders, her little fingers clutching his hair while she squeals every time he ducks under a low branch.
“Hold on tight, peanut,” he says, laughing when she leans too far trying to grab an apple that’s clearly out of reach. He steadies her with one hand and plucks it down for her anyway, slipping it into the canvas bag slung over his arm. The thing’s already half full, mostly from your older daughter’s relentless ambition to pick only the reddest and most delicious ones.
She keeps running back to him after every pick, holding up her prize like she’s found treasure, “Look at this one, Daddy!” he makes a show of inspecting it, giving a proper dramatic appraisal before approving.
“Perfect,” he says. “That one’s for the pie.”
“I’m still wondering who’s making this pie.” you mutter, watching your eldest scurry over to a branch too high for her. Chan makes a sound that’s half-laugh, half-sigh.
“It can’t be that hard to figure out.” you hum, looking over just as your youngest plucks an apple just as tiny as her and hands it down to Chan with a toothy smile.
“Daddy, missed one!” you’re half laughing, telling her that her pick is just as precious as her while Chan drops it in the bag. He looks over at you, grin easy and eyes soft, and says, “That’s good motivation to figure it out.”
You stop for a breather before the next row. The orchard is steep but that’s not what winds you—it’s them. The three of them in the middle of the row with gold framing the moment Chan laughs, your eldest jumping with all her might to reach a branch and your youngest clapping along. The warmth of the moment takes your breath away.
The toddler starts humming nonsense on his shoulders, a song she’s making up about apples while her sister zooms down the row. Chan turns his head slightly, kissing her chubby knee with an exaggerated sound.
“Think we’ve got enough?” you ask.
He glances into the bag—tight with abundance—then back at you. “We could always use more,” he says. You roll your eyes, but he’s already walking toward another tree, the leaves crunching beneath his boots.
By the time you catch up again, Chan’s let your youngest down and the girls have decided the apples need names. Each one discussed with the same level of seriousness Chan once reserved for producing an album. He crouches beside them, listening to every suggestion and nodding along.
And then, when both girls are distracted by a ladybug, he reaches for you—a hand at the small of your back, fingers brushing your wrist as he intertwines your fingers.
“Thanks for today,” he murmurs.
You smile, quiet and sure. “Save it for when you need my help with the pie.”
He laughs softly, the sound low and tired and happy. “Yeah, yeah, yeah.”
He kisses your forehead, soft and quick. A sweet spell of a moment broken only when the girls start arguing over the name of the newest apple. Then it’s back to reality.
“That’s your pie team,” you tease. He just laughs, thumb brushing over yours.
papa bakugo and the thought that he intently raises his kids in ways to be unlike him.
and when they're older, asking serious questions about parenting like: why did you make sure we were friends with everyone on the playground? why did you always have to step away when you were mad? how come you don't like us seeing videos of you when you were younger?
he tells them it's because he never wanted them to turn out like him—that leading by example has always been more effective, and he wasn't exactly the best example back then. still doesn't feel like he is now but he's trying (at least, that's what you say, and it must count for something).
and his kids are confused because what does he mean he isn't the best example? all they want is to be like him.
they want the same fire, the dedication he puts in day in and day out; how he only ever gives his best and never backs down. one of the greatest lessons they've learnt from their papa is that a promise is a promise and you deliver on it. no matter what.
they want the same balance he's achieved, making time for both work and his family but especially his family—how they've never once felt second in his life; how he's managed to show up to every game, every performance like the superdad he is. and even when he doesn't make it for the entire thing, you can bet he's rushing in, all soot-covered and polo unbuttoned with the base of his suit underneath.
(you never told your kids, but on katsuki's 14th father's day, you held him while he cried, tears of relief from his eyes. he was watching their surprise, a day-in-the-life reenactment video of pro-dad bakugo katsuki, starring the kids and you).
they want to love the way he loves them, the way he loves you—attentive and all-in because bakugo katsuki never half-asses anything. he adds personal touches to each plate of breakfast he cooks: bear pancakes for his little girl, egg done scrambled and another sunny-side up for his two boys. and you always insist on having what he's having because you don't want to add to the hassle, but he knows your signature morning drink and serves it right by the plate beside his, always yours.
you always tell him that having your kids turn out like him now is all you could ever want, and he always scoffs, tuts and laughs like it can't possibly be true. but maybe if your kids tell him now, that they want to be just like their papa, he'll believe it—all the good in him that everyone sees but he can't seem to.
you hope he doesn't see it as a bad thing—that his kids have grown and chosen to in the shape of him.
Pairing: Levi Ackerman X female!Reader
Content Warning: fluff, but there is an implied pregnancy at the end, which is why I've marked it as a female!reader, no beta - straight from my head to tumblr.
Summary: Levi remanences about how the two of you met in college.
A/N: I had an idea, and it seemed to be dominating the brain cells today, so I wrote it out. We got all the fun things in this one: Dadvi, college AU, grumpy sunshine.... I may come back and properly edit things later, but I wanted to post this before I thought too much about it. I hope you enjoy!
Levi didn't know when the switch happened - only that it did.
Coming from a broken home, it was hard imagining ever having a family in the future, yet here you were, making faces and playing with your baby girl on the floor, her giggles filling the air, as her twin haphazardly crawled his direction.
The boy looked up at him, eyes so unique and a mirror to his sister's, and let out a firm, "Dada."
"Yes?"
The little boy stretched out his arm and Levi opened his hand, only to have a wet, plastic ball dropped into it. The boy gave him a wide, toothy grin. Levi just raised an eyebrow, but the corner of his lips tilted upward.
Ten years ago, the two of you met by happenstance at a college party he was forced into. You - a small sun that everyone seemed to orbit around as you made your way through the crowd. Everyone seemed to know you, and you them.
Erwin was the one that introduced the two of you. A friend of his from a psych class that semester. You happily introduced yourself, and when you asked for his name all he gave you was a curt, "Levi."
You had, much to his distaste, continued to get to know him as the night wore on. He started even drinking the watered down shit they were claiming was beer just to make it through so that he could finally leave, but you were still there. Asking questions.
"I'm not here to make friends," he finally growled out at you, hoping you would tuck your tail and leave like everyone else.
You just gave him a toothy grin. "Don't worry - I always win over the grumpies with my sunshine!"
He had absolutely no idea what those words meant, and, once regaining his composure, rolled his eyes and left.
Unfortunately for him, you seemed to be everywhere after that.
Not that you noticed him most of the time, but he sure noticed you. You were always talking with someone - always touching them: a shoulder, an arm, a side hug or a full one. It seemed like everyone wanted to be in your presence, and he was the only one fighting the gravitational pull.
It would be his luck that at the new semester you would end up in his physics course and that the last seat available when you came running in was next to him. And when the teacher announced table partners would be paired up for the remainder of the semester, he groaned.
You, on the other hand, were thrilled. Because of course you were.
To your credit, you didn't push...hard. You did greet him every day, and you did your best to get to know him, but if he turned down your invite for lunch or to study together, you accepted it.
Near midterms he finally gave in, but only because the two of you were required to do a lab after hours that needed much preplanning.
You had invited him over to your apartment, a little place just outside of campus, and, when the study session stretched from the afternoon into the evening, cooked dinner for him.
Seeing you at home, in your (pleasantly clean) place, something changed in him. Maybe you weren't so terribly annoying.
You ended with a B+ on the lab, but an A- for the semester. He actually found himself sad to be heading into finals week for the first time...ever.
So when Hange dragged him to another end-of-semester celebration, he didn't resist, in hopes, secretly, that you would be there, too.
And you were.
And as soon as you spotted him, you found yourself next to him the rest of the evening. Not that he minded this time.
But what surprised him the most was how little you actually talked. More often than not, you listened, and when there was no one around, you talked to him. And he found, surprisingly, that he liked listening to you talk about anything.
When the summer set in, most of your mutual friends went home, but both of you stayed - unknown to each other.
Levi happened to spot you when going through the cafeteria at an odd lunch hour, seeing you hunched over a table, eyebrows furrowed in concentration.
He watched you as he ordered, trying to figure out what class you were taking during the shorter semester.
The sound of the chair across from you scraping across the floor startled you enough that you jumped, eyes wide before they were able to focus on the young man in front of you.
Levi's eyes seemed a lighter gray today, with a hint of mischief making them sparkle. A thin black eyebrow was raised in question, and you quickly recovered with a smile, moving your work to allow him a space to eat.
"Surprised to see you here," he said, meticulously removing the burger and fries from the bag after wiping down the empty table spot.
"Oh - I work at the Student Union, and I try to take a class or two I don't like during the summers."
Your lunch buddy made an affirmative sound, setting up his meal just so in a way that nothing could spill over onto him or the table. You watched as he did so, fascinated by how his hands moved, how well you could see the veins on his hands and forearms.
That was a totally normal thing to notice, right?
You shook your head free from your thoughts when Levi said your name a little sternly. Blinking, you apologized.
"What are you taking?"
"Oh, history," you said, lifting the textbook to show him. "One of my worst subjects." Closing the book with your pen left as a bookmark inside, you rested your cheek on your hand. "And what keeps you over the summer, Levi?"
He swallowed a bite before answering. "I work at the mechanic's shop down the road. Smarter people than me manage to make it a work-study class through the summers so that I can still live on campus."
You nodded as he took another bite. He nodded his head at your journal and messy notes. "I think you just need to learn how to study."
It was a slow blink while you processed what he said to you. The smile on your face flattened just a hair. "And what makes you say that?"
"The fact I saved your ass through most of physics," and then he took another bite of his burger, pulling your notes toward him to read over them.
"You offering to help?"
Levi glanced up at you, and then down at your notebook again. "Not exactly." But when he looked up again, the pitiful wide eyed look on your face made him sigh. "Fine."
You cheered, reaching for a fry. He smacked your hand away. "Get your own fries."
And that was how the two of you ended up having weekly lunch dates through the rest of the summer semester. And sometimes, before a big test, dinner ones as well.
By the end of the summer, the two of you were fast friends, and Levi realized with a start that he enjoyed having you around. It made most things tolerable.
Your study dates continued into the next semester, shifting to match both of your work and class schedules, but more often than not he found himself over in your apartment.
If he was invited to a party, he checked that you were going first. If you were, he would come, but he stuck to your side the entire night, not that you minded. And if you weren't, well, he would just stay home....or come hang out with you at your work - which was typically the reason you would miss out.
There were two moments before the two of you finally started dating that Levi realized he was in trouble.
The first was at a party, he couldn't tell you what it was for, where you had gotten ahold of a stronger drink than normal and were past tipsy but not yet drunk.
Someone had started to flirt with him, and you, clearly bothered by this upon your return from the kitchen, had wrapped your arms around him claiming him as your 'Grumpy' and telling the other person to find their own.
He still didn't know what the fuck that meant, but it had taken him two hours after he brought you home to calm you down and reassure you that he would remain your Grumpy and he would not find another Sunshine.
Once you were fully convinced, you had fallen asleep on him, and Levi realized, with a jolt, that he didn't have the urge to slip away and leave. In fact, being curled up with you felt kind of...nice.
(When he had told Erwin this story later, Erwin had laughed. When pressed, all the blonde said was, "Do you know what her major is?"
"Creative writing."
Blue eyes were filled with mirth. "You're a smart man, Levi. Figure it out."
Levi wasn't sure why he had felt warm all over when later that night he finally Googled the trope and learned what it was.)
The second time was the time you realized something, too, although you never admitted it.
It was a late night that Levi was crossing through campus, headed back to the dorm rooms, when he found you on a bench, watching one of the many water fountains.
He had a double shift at work straight into a night class, and hadn't checked in on you all day - although seeing your red eyes he wished he had. And he found himself overcome with the need to beat the hell out of whatever had the audacity to make you cry.
You had tried to smile through the tears, promising it wasn't a big deal, but when your lip quivered, he knew. Levi dropped his bag to the ground, sat beside you, and pulled you close.
Leaning into him, he nudged his head with yours, and said, "You don't have to be strong all the time, you know. Even the sun hides behind rainclouds some days."
It wasn't something that you would ever expect out of him, but it was clearly what you needed to hear. You couldn't hold back your feelings any more at that point, and cried heavily into his shirt.
Levi held you close the entire time, and walked you home after.
You had invited him to stay with you that night, and, after struggling with it, he finally gave in. It was the second time you found yourself falling asleep in his arms.
Neither of you could exactly pinpoint when you were 'officially' started dating, as life went on as normally as it had for the two of you before that night.
Sure, Levi might have his arm around the back of your chair now when you were sitting together, or once or twice you had taken his hand or arm as the two of you walked somewhere.
But nothing had been said - your routine hadn't changed. And if your friends had noticed something, they chose to remain quiet. (Although many times knowing smiles were shared behind your backs.)
It wasn't until one night, after Levi had spent another afternoon at your place and was leaving for his night class that things changed.
The two of you were saying your goodbyes, and, without a second thought, you had kissed him, and then wished him a speedy three hours.
You hadn't realized what you had done. Sure you'd fantasized about doing it before, but that's all that was. You hadn't actually done it. Had you?
Gray eyes were boring into yours, a hand frozen on the doorknob, as both sets of eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
Levi was the first to move, his hand reaching out and wrapping around the side of your neck, tugging you forward as he crashed his lips against yours once more - electricity racing every nerve of your body. There was a fierceness to his kiss; a fervency in it that had you weak at the knees.
It left you panting as you pulled away, and he leaned his forehead against yours. "We're talking about this when I get back." And then he kissed you again, and was out your door before you had caught your breath.
You had been together ever sense.
It had only seemed natural to him to propose after graduation, and you had a quick courthouse ceremony because, for the two of you, there was no need to wait.
The first few years of marriage were ones of enjoying each other - the twins were a surprise when the two of you decided to expand your family.
Fraternal twins, both born with heterochromia - one a gray blue and the other one the same as yours. You had laughed; Levi had been stunned.
But now, looking over his small family on this mundane Monday night, he found himself thankful for that stupid party he was forced to go to all those years ago.
Levi picked up your son from the ground, holding him as he reached over to take the plastic ball back and tried to stuff it in his mouth. His eyes locked with your own, and you raised an eyebrow at him. "What's up, Grumpy?"
A rare smile crossed his face as he shook his head. "Nothing, Sunshine. Nothing at all."
Masterlist | Created by @thechaoticarchivist 2024. Do not repost. Reblogs and comments always welcome
