#Erwin x Mike

[gemoglobinchik]

Take this

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Together in life and beyond.

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[elmundodeflor]

The place is packed. Crowded to its full capacity. The music’s too loud, the floors almost bumping to the beat of every compass. And Levi thinks, sure enough, he’s too sober to do this right now. That he, most definitely, isn’t one for weddings.

Even if it’s Erwin’s.

He huffs and chugs over the last of his champagne glass. It’s a sweet haze that lingers on his tongue. A bubbly daydream that makes him stare at the scene with softer eyes, if only for a brief moment.

He had told Erwin that he should have gone for something more intimate, that one night when he asked for opinions. That he should have rented the small chapel by the beach, and invite a few of his closer friends only. He had never been that of a pretentious man to begin with. And Mike preferred keeping things low-profile, anyways.

So, what was the need for all of this big fuzz?

He looks over at his friends, shaking it off in the middle of the dancefloor. It’s a nice venue they’ve rented: that, he has to admit. There are fairy lights hanging from the tree branches, and everything else is covered in delicate, white décor. It reminds him a bit of Christmas, he tells himself: how joy is palpable in the air. How it seems, somehow, that the breeze smells of tender hoping.

He puts the glass on the table, and rests an arm on the back of his chair. He has been sitting for a while already, all-too abstracted from the rest of the party. It's no surprise, he had always preferred to be a silent witness, after all. Someone who rather enjoys from the peripheries. It’s the reason why he’s chosen Architecture, he figures. Why he’d followed Erwin to open up their own studio in the first place. To look at the fuller landscape. To contemplate at the maimed beauty that one can only taste from the distance.

He hums, content. In front of him, Mike, Moblit and Nana are already tipsy, slurring out a very drunken chorus to the song that’s playing. It’s a sight that’s so warm with gentleness, he’s afraid he’ll tarnish it if he stares any longer. Mike puts his arms around both his friends, and he finds himself smiling, all of a sudden. It’s in the way blush glazes over their cheeks. The rush of wonder that flashes through their bodies as they dance.

Yep. He’s certainly too sober for this.

He tends to the bottle and pours himself another glass. The night is young, still: the weather damp and fresh, typical of an august spent in Paradis. He remembers long-lost summers like this, where Hanji took him to the base of the same cliff they’re at now. They would crash at his house uninvited, sneak over the fence of his backyard. And he’d jump off his window and run for the hills, too bold to ever look back.

He guesses, he misses it all a little bit. The reckless laughter, how Hanji would teach him about a different star every time. He has the feeling that the world was a much more interesting place when they were a constant to it. That now that they’re in Marley, even the moon has stopped to shine, as well.

He takes a sip. Champagne drowns out the echo of his thoughts for a second, soothes out the tinge of nostalgia that tugs at his chest. Hanji is dancing in front of him, too. And he can’t help but seek for them in the crowd, like when they were little kids figuring out life.

There’s something about the way they move, really. A whimsical magic that pulls him into them, brighter than a thousand sunsets. Maybe, it’s that they haven’t seen each other in three months, he wants to believe. Or maybe, it’s their hair: how it’s loose and wild and free, beautifully tousled by the drumming of the music.

Has he ever told them how pretty he’s always drawn them?

He shakes his head, takes every corner of them in. Their suit is slightly wrinkled from all the dancing, their face flushed a faint tone of peach. They make him dream of dawn over the ocean, how untamable they are. Make him think of going on adventures and getting fake tattoos.

"Why don't you dance with them?", Erwin talks from behind, sitting down next to him. He’s wearing head-to-toe white: a rose clipped to the flap of his tux.

Levi grunts. He has no idea how does he know that he’d been staring. Or for how long. But then again, this is typical of his best friend to do.

"I don't dance.", he says, plain and simple. And that much, is true. “Besides,”, he adds, as he lifts up the glass once more. “Shouldn’t you be concerned about other stuff? It’s your wedding.”

Erwin lets out a light chuckle.

"Precisely.”, he deadpans, then. “You and Hanji are my best-men tonight. I’ve noticed how you’ve been looking at them, Levi..."

That earns him only but another grunt.

Of course, the bastard had had to pick upon it.

"I'm not looking at them in any particular way.", he lies.

Erwin raises a brow. Out on the floor, Hanji spins to the rhythm of a melody that’s born anew, so faded that they’re barely aware of the universe. And Levi’s eyes are glued upon them, still, staring with a love so burning, it seems as though a comet has just crashed onto the shores.

Did he really think he wasn’t being obvious? That he could get away with fooling his life-long companion like that?

"You wanna know how I know...?", he starts, after what appears a long minute of silence. His voice has become lower all too quickly. Almost as if he’s setting free of his heart’s best kept secret. "I know because that's the exact same way I look at Mike."

Levi holds in his breath, stays quiet for a moment. He thinks of the night Hanji had showed him the constellations up the skies, right before leaving off abroad. They had told him, that every star belonged to another. That they were all threaded together, connected somehow. He had supposed it was a little stupid, back then. Science was something far beyond his field of comprehension.

Still, Hanji had persisted, he recalls, stubborn as they were. They had taken his hand into theirs, pointed them up at the ignites of a flickering planet.

“Look…”, they’d said, in a whisper drowned out by moonlight. “You and I… are like the stars, Levi…”

He didn't understand.

“Like the stars?”

Hanji had nodded, then glared up at him a second too long.

“You know…?”, they hushed. Their voice smelt of spring, and of the cheap wine they’d bought from the store. “No matter how far we stray, we’ll always be linked close, side by side…”

He swallows, and stares over at them once more now. Their slender figure, the smile that hints at the corner of their lips. They are putting up a spectacle for one without even realizing. A show that names them the owner of every light upon his skyline.

Because his pulse has raised too obnoxiously loud, almost audible above the music. And he's sure, right there, as he watches them move, that his childhood's best friend has screwed him over.

That his soul will always be tied to the brightest star that could be up the cosmos.

“What do I do now…?”, he asks, more to himself that to anyone else.

Erwin places a hand on his shoulder, gives him a tight, reassuring squeeze.

“Just be yourself.”, he concludes, as he gets up to join Mike back on the dancefloor. “That should be enough.”

.

.

He's two more champagne glasses down when he bumps into Hanji by the dessert table. Still, he's too sober to be making this much of a ridicule act.

"'Wassup!", they exclaim, as they turn around to face him. And they notice, almost immediately: he appears all too serious. Like he's just been invited to a funeral. "Everything alright?", they ask, concerned. "You look... constipated."

Levi bites his tongue. He seriously wants the Earth to swallow him whole.

"Well...", he begins. He can feel his skin turn to an aching shade of red. "Ewin's been telling me not to hold back my shit anymore, so..."

He instantly face-palms himself. Hold back his shit? What is he even talking about? He is too nervous and not making any sense right now.

Hanji laughs, and it's like time has never ran between them, really. Like they are still the same children who chased after fireflies and built up tents with their bed covers. Truth is, they had missed Levi, too. His permanent scowl and his endless battle with words. His perfectly parted hair, and the softness that lies within his eyes.

They take the rose that hangs from his suit, then put it in between black locks, there in the tender spot behind his ear. After all, they have a silent agreement to their friendship, old as the day they met. He allows them into the parts of him that hurt, and they are careful not to talk about them.

"So...", they say. Their hand is still on his face, lingering on the sides of it a minute too long. They have no idea what it means, but it's a gesture so intimate, Levi doesn't dare move. "Lets go dancing! Shall we...?"

He smiles. Up the skies, stars dapple in the dark canvas of the night, glimmer like distant raindrops on pitch black. He recognizes, they are all stitched together into the glints of a million different constellations. That no dot is left untouched. And he thinks, maybe, that Hanji was probably right.

All along. All this time.

They have always been just alike.

[wingedwhitelioness]

It’s world lion day 🦁

Here’s to: 🍻

Mikelion 💘 Cougarwin

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How have I not seen this old glorious art 😭😂

AION

[smutbutoutofnowhere]

shoutout to all my fellow smut enjoyers

[strawberrybuni]

(PRE-RELATIONSHIP) THEY CONFESS AFTER YOU'VE BEEN CHEATED ON

Characters: Levi, Hange, Eren, Armin, Erwin, Mikasa, Reiner, Jean, Annie, Miche, & Yelena Summary: You ended it with your bf after you were cheated on, now they're taking their chance to confess to you CW: fluff

[yu-huuuu]

You couldn’t be happier.

Your husband came home from work at the usual time, with that smile that always captivates you every time you see it. Your two beautiful children are playing in the beautiful garden of the house, laughing and running.

You feel his large hands touching and caressing your swollen stomach, due to the little angel growing inside you, while his chin rests on your shoulder. You smile as you lean into his touch.

You couldn’t be happier... but the lamp looks a little weird...

[mikesmatcha]

Good night 😴

The couple that reads together before bedtime ♥️

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I just turned 30 and gave myself these gifts! NanaMatcha and MikeEru give me happiness 💚

[cluelessjellyfish]

Bear hug 🐻💕

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"There's one in this world for everyone."

It's that time of the year again, MikeErus! Join us this October 14 - November 1 for

MikeEru Month 2023!

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[mikesmatcha]

It’s not Christmas but anything MikeEru is always worth resharing no matter what time of the year 🤭

[bluesilkdressao3]

Hi, could you write us what would be the reader's first kiss with Levi, Erwin and Mike?(I am writing with the help of a translator, I apologize for the mistakes)

there are no mistakes in ur message dw :-)

Thoughts on a First Kiss with the Male Veterans (Erwin, Mike, Levi)

Erwin

I see Erwin needing to have developed a back-and-forth with reader before any relationship could develop. He seems the sort to not have romantic inclinations unless he also has a conversational relationship with you.

The most romantic, seems the sort to ask permission.

Erwin respects you as a soldier. He sees you as a valuable asset to the Scouting Legion. He values your input in field affairs and appreciates it when you have a glance over expedition plans for him. Making you a Squad Leader was an easy call—or, rather, as the Commander of the Legion it was an essay call. As a man? It was a decision he was reluctant to make. He'd been growing increasingly fond of you, increasingly eager to pass you in the hallway, looking up at his door quickly when someone knocked and finding himself slightly disappointed when it wasn't you—worse, he'd find himself pleased when it was you; he'd smile at you, stand as you approached his desk, he'd murmur for you to take a seat and he'd lean his elbows on his desk to get close to you. To hear you speak quietly and clearly. He hung off every word. You were a vulnerability for him. He knew you could fight, knew you were strong, knew you could handle yourself but, by God, was he afraid of your absence. That was the problem. Erwin tried everything, he tried pushing you away, setting some polite distance, some clear formality. He directed conversations away from the personal and exclusively toward the militaristic. When military matters were discussed and done with, he'd stand and politely urge you on your way. But it did nothing other than make him sad to see you go. It was the night before an expedition—the second expedition with you as a Squad Leader—and Erwin was tense, anxious, on edge. Like every evening before an expedition, he'd had his Officers come in for a final debrief before dismissing them to their bedrooms for a restless night. But, unlike every other evening before an expedition, he'd asked you (politely) to stay behind. You had looked a little confused, even, perhaps, worried. He'd quickly calmed you mind by assuring you there was nothing to be anxious about, he'd asked you to sit. There had been a silence wherein Erwin tried to think of what to say, what to do, how best to come out with the fact that he'd grown affectionate for you in a way that was simply not appropriate for a Commanding Officer. But, in the end, all he could do was stand from his chair, walk beside you, crouch alongside where you sat, and say, "may I kiss you?" Of course, with a smile, you did.

Mike

The most easy and comfortable with romantic/sexual gestures.

I see Mike as the sort to act on a whim, the sort to make a spur of the moment decision.

Perhaps unlike to ask permission, letting your movement dictate if he kisses you or not.

Mike was a sucker for women. He was a man with needs and he liked women. Sue him. He likes the way they move, they speak, likes the way they kiss, likes the way they sound, and, of course, the way they smell. He takes his job as a soldier seriously, he endeavoured to keep any carnality confined to one of flings with pretty ladies he meets in a pub, perhaps meeting them once or twice more before laying down the boundary of "can't do this again." Most of the time, they're fine with it—most of the time, they're used to soldiers and their bullshit tendency to pull away from emotions. Its fine. It works. He tries to avoid emotional, sexual, romantic shit with fellow soldiers. But, hey, you were just his type. Mike kept it down, kept it quiet and pushed away for as long as he could. He avoided physical contact with you, he avoided chatting with you, laughing with you, he avoided it all—adamant to keep shit from getting difficult. But the beer had been flowing, but the mess hall was hot and clammy, but the laughter was loud and the celebration (a rare semi-successful expedition) was in full swing and you looked sweaty and joyful in the candlelight. He'd walked past you, ducking his head to quietly say into your ear, "follow me?" You did, darting out the mess hall and into the corridor a few moments after him. The corridor was quiet and dark and a little chilly after the tight noise of the mess hall. Mike was leaning on the wall, his tankard on the windowsill beside him. He'd stared at you in silence, looking at the sheen of your sweat in the moonlight of the hall. You stepped closer, hesitant and slow. The moment you were within arm's reach, Mike had reached out and grasped your wrist loosely. You didn't pull back or away. You only stepped closer. Toe to toe, eyes looking at one another. It was only natural, only easy, for Mike to duck his head and press his lips to yours. It was intuitive for you to loop your arms around his neck and for him to grip your waist and pull you closer. Yeah. You were just his type.

Levi

Tbh I see Levi only being able to be romantic either in a pre-canon situation or a post-canon situation. During the plot of canon, I think he's so existential and fucked up that initiating romance is rly not on his mind.

I've written a couple of times on Ao3 pre-canon romance w/ Levi so I'd love to explore a post-canon romance.

Like I always say, I see Levi's relationship with intimacy being repressed and even somewhat awkward.

Tbh, kissing may be one of the most tense things for him as it is such an intimate, gentle action that is pure romance and offers little physical gratification. Sex may make sense to him as something people desire for physical release, but kissing? What's the point beyond simple affection?

I think that post-canon, his wounds and injuries would fuck him up. Levi's whole military purpose had been being physically strong, thus, losing his ability to walk, to use his hand, his vision being impaired, I imagine those would all affect not only his identity but his self-esteem.

For this reason, I see there being a long period of reluctance from Levi to act on any romantic feelings and, hence, reader would need to initiate things.

Levi didn't believe it. It didn't make sense. You were strong, still. You were valued by Arlert's little diplomatic group for your military knowledge, for how well you'd fought during the war, for the fact that you had military experience beyond the others. After all, you'd already been in the Legion years before any of the 104th signed up. You, strong, smart, beautiful, having any damn interest in Levi as he currently was made no sense. He thought you'd been mocking him when you first told him. He'd been an ass to you, swore at you, told you to fuck off. You'd only returned the following day with a fresh loaf of bread and your familiar, easy company. "Don't you have shit to do?" Levi would grumble as you prepared a pot of tea to share with him by the fire. "Yeah," you'd reply, "but I'm happy to be here," you would look at him with that gentle intensity that always had Levi's ears going hot, and you'd add, "I'm happy to be with you." The first time you'd asked to kiss him, you'd been pushing him in his wheelchair along a cobbled street while Gabi and Falco walked in front of the both of you—the two of them talking loudly and laughing louder. Levi had tensed full body and, after a long silence, replied, "don't say that shit again." You were good at following military commands. You were God awful at doing what he said otherwise. You asked him once when you were slowly shaving his face with a cut-throat razor. You asked him once when you were chopping vegetables together. You asked him once when he was helping you fold laundry. You asked him once before you went to the port to catch a boat to Paradis. You asked him when you returned. He always balked, always froze, always said no, but the intensity of the no lessened from a full body rejection to a sharp shake of the head to a quiet, "no." You didn't push him, you didn't demand it, you didn't guilt him or urge him, you would just pause and look at him and say, "may I kiss you?" When he'd say no, you'd nod and move on, picking up where you left off. It was when the others were round, of all days, that he finally said yes. The garden was busy in the summer evening. Kirstein and Springer were rowdy and drunk, Braun close behind. Pieck and Onyankopon and Arlert and Leonhardt were looking on in their own state of tipsy amusement, Gabi and Falco were full and sleepy after the big meal. You were sat beside Levi on the porch, he in his wheelchair holding a half drank pint and you sat beside him on a chair, smiling softly. He'd been staring at your smiling profile, he'd been in awe of your patience and unending kindness. He'd leant into your space and said, "kiss me." You'd looked at him slowly, eyes bright, and had whispered, "are you sure?" Levi had replied with a nod. You'd raised your hand, pressing it on his cheek and letting him rest the weight of his head on your palm, your thumb stroking the scarred skin beneath his blind eye. You'd leant close and pressed your lips to his. The kiss was dry, soft, gentle, easy. Levi's hand had raised to wrap around your wrist and he'd pressed his lips back against yours. When the kiss broke you pressed your forehead against his and whispered, "alright?" "Mhmm," he'd hummed. No one had noticed the kiss when he looked back at the small party.

[wingedwhitelioness]

MikeEru Month 2023

Day 1: Traveling Together

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