Hello! So, I realize that I've been AWOL from this site for about two years, and that's because I discovered AO3. About two months after I published the last chapter of Numinous, I started a collection on AO3 and have been there ever since. But after seeing almost all my writer friends post their content on both sites, I decided to come back and post what I've written these past two years on here! This is not all of the chapters from AO3, as some are either explicit or just cringy even for me. But, if you would like to read them, they are on AO3 under the same fic title :)
Most of these are requests I've received from Tumblr, though a few of them were the products of what little inspiration I have lol. Before each chapter, I will write out if what follows is a request and, if so, what it was. These will be posted in the order they were written.
The chapter below is something I wrote for Eremika fluff week back in 2016. Thank you for reading!
Light, unsteady shakes of the mattress and the soft rustle of linen stir Eren into consciousness. Somnolent jades crack open and when she comes into view, he frowns at the sight. Her back is to him; smooth, muscular frame uncovered and curled into the familiar fetal position.
This makes him worry somehow. He has become so accustomed to her near him when they sleep, even more so during their first years together that a little part of him worries when she turns away to distance herself. Eren shifts closer to his fiancée and throws their thin sheets over the bony point of her shoulder. He moves his arm with care, wrapping it gently around the toned dip of her waist, and it's then that she turns around to curl up to him.
Her eyes don't open as he anticipates but instead, his eyes follow her pupils as they slide carefully, drowsily beneath their lids. A few ebony locks drape across the delicate features of her face when she rolls over, making her nuzzle her deeper into the cotton pillow and Eren can't help but smile as she wrinkles her tiny nose in discomfort. Her hair has grown a generous amount in the past few years and he realizes how much he's missed the way it frames the almond shape of her face, admires it even. It's a bit comical to think of why he suggested she cut it. All because he was a moody, capricious preteen who didn't take kindly to Jean's innocent complement during their early trainee days. His fingers slide beneath the unruly bangs and push the soft tresses behind the flexible shell of her ear, inky strands spilling along the side of her throat and onto the bed. The tips of his fingers don't stop there; They circle the edge of her jaw and continue along the slope of it, reaching up to trace the lined scar.
The tissue has long healed, but he hasn't.
Not entirely.
Though she has verbally forgiven him time and time again, he can never truly extenuate himself for the wrongs he had done her during their youth. And the defined line beneath long lashes serves as his biggest reminder.
Taunting him with every unintentional glance.
You almost killed her.
Almost is the thread that tied her to this world. The invisible borderline that separated her life from death. A death that undoubtedly would've been his undoing.
Almost is what haunts him the most.
Deep breaths through her nostrils draw him out of his darker thoughts, troubled eyes fixating on their brighter reality. Her eyes remain closed as her hand lifts to cover his own and his soften when she gives his palm a tired squeeze. He inhales softly as to not rouse her and focuses on the warm texture of her gold ring against his knuckle. The diamond sitting snuggly atop her finger never seizes to make his heart flutter with excitement and avidity. She is going to be his. And he can't wait to finally be hers. The thought alone is inspiriting and heartening.
I'm the lucky one.
He doesn't realize he's murmured his thoughts till she shifts again and he holds his breath, waiting for her to respond, almost apologizing for disturbing her -
Almost .
Her voice never comes.
His breath releases into the tiny gap between them, apologies dissipating along with it and his fingers resume their tender ministrations.
It's hardly fathomable to think that long ago he vowed they'd be together for the rest of their lives. That in their dire situation he promised her eternity as he courageously shielded her from the merciless hands of death. And in just weeks, they will make it an official vow.
Getting the ring was probably the most tedious thing he has ever done. He never really entertained the prospect of marriage until the months following their victory. It became more prominent as they shared many moments together after the reclamation (and ultimately the destruction) of Wall Maria. The times spent alone together, feelings shared through lingering touches and a few stolen kisses behind trees, in open fields, and once in the rain. They began sleeping in each other's rooms every other night. It started as something accidental, but neither minded and it gradually it became something innocent, natural, and a bittersweetly nostalgic between them. He woke up next to her one morning, so warm and soft she was. Not even the brightness of the rising sun could outshine the smile she had blessed him with and it was then that he knew: she's the only one I could ever see.
He knows Mikasa like the back of his scarred hand - ridges and curves, her likes and dislikes - but he was a bit foggy when it came to her tastes. She's never cared for anything… flashy, but he wasn't going to be cheap either. Armin had offered to accompany him, but Eren insisted on doing it on his own. It was more special to pick it out himself and to be helped would take some of that away. So that's what he did. It took a couple days, a few lame excuses, hundreds of questions and a tired salesman, but he made a final choice. Weeks began to pass and he had tried to think of every possible way to ask her, ultimately dissatisfied with his lack of creativity.
Until an idea struck him (Sasha helped with that one). Only it accidentally slipped out and, as luck would have it, in the worst way possible.
With a flushed face, he had explained to Historia about his little "plan" and felt more comfortable practicing his "will you marry me" speech with her. Evidently, Mikasa had walked in on them, gawking at the two when she saw a blushing Eren down on one knee, ring in one hand and Historia's small palm in the other. Even her majesty didn't know what to do, didn't know if she should even say anything as the three stared at one another.
Silence.
Mikasa closed her mouth, beginning to blink furiously, voice wavering, "Hanji is looking for you Eren," she turned her back to them, arm raising and swiping at her face, "I'll just tell her you're busy." She starting walking out, a sorry for interrupting echoing through the hall as she did. Like the idiot he was, he remained there, kneeling, unblinking and body grounded, letting the situation sink in before Historia's nudge made him stumble and he followed right after, tucking the ring messily into its box as he rushed apologies out to the petite blonde. But as he made a clumsy turn around the corner, she had already disappeared.
He called for her. Searched and asked and searched and asked around because he desperately needed to tell her that it was a misunderstanding, to come back, that it's her he wants. But not even the ever so clever Armin could locate her. His anxiety and unsteadiness grew with each aching hour he spent pacing around the cabin until finally the hinges of the door groaned with friction.
His heart throbbed as he looked into her red eyes, cheeks blotched with salty tears that he had unintentionally caused. When she finally meet his eyes, she sniffled through a watery smile and shecongratulated him. And he snapped . She tried to avoid him - she really did - but what Mikasa didn't know was that her emotions had hit him second-hand just by looking at her face alone. He practically dragged her outside, cuffed her wrist with his hand and rambled along the edge of the forest, ignoring her feeble questions as they continued aimlessly. Before long, they made it to a small clearing, away from their nosy, bound-to-be-intrusive squad mates.
Trees and newly budded flowers gave witness as he tried to untangle the mess his lack of discreteness caused. But his truculent side seeped out and his tone became more disgruntled than he had intended. He did almost the complete opposite of what he wanted to do -
Almost .
He had kissed her.
Pinned her gingerly against the rough bark, silenced the growing volume in her voice and felt the softness of her mouth with his own chapped one, blood heating the surface of his skin as cool air breezed around them. He poured out his passion for her with every swipe of their lips, felt her tense muscles relax in his grip. During those moments, Eren wondered how something he previously thought trivial could make him feel so unusually light-headed, feel something bigger than he is. How warmth spread on the inside and goosebumps out, and how her sigh flittering along his cheek breathed so much life into him. Forehead against forehead, he finished with a kiss at the corner of her mouth, quietly reiterated his promises he had formerly made to her with tangled fingers at their sides. Each silent second that passed filled his mind with apprehension at what he had done, unsure if this was too sudden, given his predicament with her. Perhaps she was as shocked as he. His heart continued to race painfully as he repeated the question that was initially meant for her, skipping a couple beats when a breathless yes fell from her kiss-swollen lips.
Those same lips are parted slightly, small puffs of air escaping and ghosting over the bottom of his palm and along the inside of his wrist. Her grip over it became slack sometime during his reminiscence and all he can do is stare as grey pupils continue their lidded, tenuous movement. He often wonders what she dreams about. If it's past memories or a desired future. If it's him she's dreaming of.
His eyes roam over what his fingers cannot. They trace the blue tint of moonlight that shines over her fair skin and adds luster to raven locks, making her glow in the most enchanting of ways. Watches the steady rise and fall of her body, becoming more enthralled with each breath. Her subtle shiver at the autumn breeze flowing through their bedroom. He moves even closer and pulls the blanket to her chin, resting his calloused palm against her face to move his fingers behind her head, cradling the base of her skull as nails begin trail along her scalp.
The supple skin of her lips press together lightly and she moves her head along with the slow movement of stubby nails, face relaxing impossibly more.
Then his heart feels what his skin cannot.
Since the extinction of the titans, he's come to realize three important things about the sleeping woman before him:
Her presence in his life has heavily influenced and motivated him during their seemingly endless journey. No one else can implement and elicit feelings of comfort and security that specifically pertain to her. And most of all, how damn lucky he is to have her here, now and (hopefully) forever.
In this world's sickening twist of Russian roulette, she was his luck that kept him alive. Time and time again she has saved him, encouraged him, protected him, loved him. He knows now that he would be dead a hundred times over if it wasn't for her. He's also aware that he's too prideful or, in Jean's words, too "egotistical" to admit it. One day, he tells himself. One day he will tell her about these revelations and pray to whatever deity there is that he will overcome his embarrassment and really tell her.
The light streaming through translucent curtains collides and bounces off the many edges and surfaces of the rock. The iridescent rays cast everywhere, particularly on her hair and they are like twinkling stars illumined against the midnight hue.
She embodies the universe in which his world was crafted from. The soft texture of moon-kissed skin along the curvature of her neck his haven. Her smaller body has helped shoulder the weight of his pain and ambitions. Her even smaller hands have picked up the broken pieces of his undeserving soul and made… no, make him whole. Astral orbs reflect what he can never verbally express. And he finds no need to. She understands every action, every look, every gesture and only asks for his company in return.
Now, he's more than willing to give that and fill her until he is empty and wasted and even then, he will promise to continue making his wrongs right and to carefully kiss where he has impulsively inflicted pain. It's what she deserves, and rightly so.
Because she is an oasis surrounded by scorching fields of sand.
Because she is a red rose amidst charcoal thorns and withered weeds.
Because her eyes have fluttered open, unfocused one moment, then shining with blithe inquisition when they meet his stare and God he is a fool for her.
"Sorry." He can feel color rushing to his cheeks, casting away cheesy and embarrassing thoughts, averting his gaze to her defined collarbone before emeralds timidly looked back into greys.
Long lashed eyes bat once, then twice. "Why?"
He clears his throat and opts not to answer, tentatively placing his thumb on her brow to outline the perfect arch of it.
" Sleep, " he urges, fingers carding through her hair to run his nails along it once more, an action he's (just) learned to soothe her.
Eren is proven right when her eyes begin to flutter in response and before she concedes, she tangles herself around him and he welcomes it, her natural lavender fragrance his melatonin.
And soon, it'll be her turn to watch as the other becomes immersed in the realms of sleep. To touch, to stare, to feel and to whisper:
I'm the lucky one.