#Erwin x Mike | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

this-is-krikkit · 8 months ago

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no more boops? have a fic instead!

rating: Mature relationships: Erwin Smith/Mike Zacharias, Levi Ackerman/Hange Zoë

summary: Teleworking at Erwin's place grants Mike a front row seat to his boss honoring a stupid dare. Let's be honest, though: it has other perks.

additional tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Office, slightly kinky, Light BDSM, very light actually most of it is only mentioned, Based on a Tumblr Post, i gave Nanaba a family name for the narrative, i also gave her a couple heart attacks. also for the narrative!, Tumblr Prompt, Mike and Hange both wearing their boyfriends' shirts Challenge: complete, Office Romance

inspired by:

enjoy!!

“To conclude this meeting and another productive week, I’d like to have everyone’s attention for a few of our most pressing matters.”

Oh, he’s going to do it now, Mike realizes.

For the hundredth time in the last hour and a half, he has to check that both his microphone and camera are offline. He’s not usually so easily spooked about these things, but it’s one thing to want your privacy during a meeting with twenty people and the company’s CEO himself making a presentation, and it’s another to have to hide the fact that you’re teleworking from said CEO’s penthouse apartment every Friday because you’ve been secretly —Mike’s decided that drunkenly confessing to Nanaba a few weeks back doesn’t count— fucking each other for months now against all company guidelines.

He almost feels sorry for not warning his friend Hange, the only one besides Erwin and a few less highly ranked colleagues who’s currently got their camera on —and who is probably unaware of that fact, seeing how their crumpled shirt is hanging open as far as he can see— for what’s about to happen, but he couldn’t do that without giving himself away.

“I’m going to need Business Development, Sales and Marketing to work together closely on the Titan project next quarter. Zoë, Ackerman and Zacharias, as respective heads of these divisions, I’ll require that you regularly meet and update me directly on this matter. It’s a great challenge, but I have no doubt your BDSM task force, as I’ve labeled it, will tackle it under the deadline I stipulated earlier.”

It’s probably unnoticeable to everyone else with his camera so high on his laptop’s screen, but Mike knows he didn’t imagine the way Erwin’s eyes just settled on him, all the way over where he’s lounging on the comfy couch in his boss’ home office, when he said the acronym Mike dared him to place. Knowing this was coming does little to stop Mike’s shock at hearing the awfully casual way he enunciated those letters, and it’s physically painful to have to contain his hilarity —Erwin’s microphone is definitely still on and it’s not that big a room— when he glances back down and sees Erwin actually put it into bold, huge characters onto an otherwise blank slide.

His eyes catch movement on his screen then, and he realizes that some screens that were previously showing faces have suddenly gone dark.

His friend Hange's, however, hasn’t. In fact, they’re currently losing their mind over what just happened, and they’re definitely unaware of their camera being on if the image of them picking up their laptop and running into another room before settling it down in front of Levi as they hurriedly gesture at —Mike’s guessing since their microphone is still thankfully muted— Erwin’s scandalous slide is anything to go by.

It’s not unusual for Hange and Levi, two of the most important people in this company and annoyingly close friends —who, in Mike’s opinion, are two close idiots who really are in love with each other and should get together already— to be spending teleworking days together.

But something is… off in this picture.

Then Mike realizes, now that he’s seen them standing, that Hange’s shirt’s probably been hanging open because it’s obviously several sizes too small. And, before Levi’s eyes comically widen and he extends his arm towards their camera to turn their tiny window black as well, it finally clicks in Mike’s brain.

That wasn’t just Levi.

That was Levi and his naked torso, sculpted by the endless hours he spends in the same gym Mike trains at, and covered in hickeys.

Mike steals a glance at Erwin, but his boss is now calmly calling the end of the meeting, his usual poker face on although there’s no way in hell he didn’t notice what just transpired.

Before he can think of addressing it out loud as Erwin turns his computer off and stands from his chair, Mike’s phone chimes with Nanaba’s special ringtone. He sighs and picks up, knowing making his best friend wait after these very interesting last few minutes isn’t the best idea.

“Mike, what the fuck?” She starts, and Mike rolls his eyes as he rethinks of the countless times she’s threatened him with days long HR seminars about his swearing. “You and Eyebrows did this on purpose, didn’t you? Hange’s freaking out so bad right now!”

She’s being so loud the sound of her voice carries way further than Mike’s phone speaker, and Erwin mouthes the nickname back at him with obvious amusement, now close enough to sit with him on the couch.

“Well, first of all, I didn’t know their camera would be on,” he says, trying not to sound as defensive as the guilt he feels about his other friend’s distress wants him to. “And besides, it serves them right for not telling me they're finally hooking up with Levi! Did you know and forget to tell me by any chance?"

Mike shares a glance with Erwin at that, who shakes his head condescendingly at his outrage —and if Mike wasn’t almost sure his boss had figured his two friends out before they all just got accidental proof of their relationship, now he is— and extends one arm over the back of the couch to scoot even closer to Mike’s lap, before casually starting to leave feather light kisses along his neck.

“You do not have a fucking leg to stand on here, Mister Secret CEO Boyfriend,” Nanaba scolds over the phone, making Mike freeze at the unexpected title, even as the pressure of Erwin’s lips only increases against his sensitive skin. “Which, by the way, I know this was his idea and not yours, you’re not twisted enough to come up with something like this. And I know I said I wanted to make friends with the big boss now that you two are doing the horizontal tango, but I’m not so sure it’s a good idea after—

“That’s alright, Miss Fischer,” Erwin interrupts, taking advantage of the speechless state his hickeys have left Mike into, sounding way too unbothered for their current predicament. “I’m not here to make friends anyway.”

There’s a sudden squeal followed by the muffled sound of Nanaba possibly trying to catch her phone before it falls from her grip.

“Erw— Mister Smith? Oh my God. Oh my God, I’m so sorry, Sir, Mike never said… I mean, had no idea you could overhear—”

“It’s alright,” Erwin says again, pausing to nibble at the skin over Mike’s collarbone, who’s trying to glare at him even though he knows it’s a lost cause. “I’ll see you Monday, Miss Fischer. Have a restful weekend.”

“Yes, Sir. Sorry again. I’ll see you on Monday, Sir.”

Erwin takes the phone away before she’s even done and throws it behind him on the cushions, not bothering to check that the call effectively cut —although Mike’s sure it did, because Nanaba sounded absolutely terrified.

“You just terrorized your HR Director,” he tries, still panting from Erwin’s most recent attention to his neck.

“I know,” Erwin singsongs like he just got praised instead of scolded, nipping along Mike’s jaw playfully now.

“Did you do it because of the nickname, or because I told you she had a crush on me back when we started at the company?”

Erwin chuckles, his breath fanning over Mike’s overheated skin in the process, and draws back far enough to look him in the eyes.

“Come on, I don’t hold such childish grudges,” he says smoothly, predatory smile firmly in place.

Mike bites back his own smile, and tries to keep his face neutral.

“You know I’m aware that you’re lying, right?”

Erwin only grins wider and lets his hand travel along his torso, down his abdomen, and finally cups him briefly over his pants, tearing a hiss out of him that effectively ruins his attempt to appear unimpressed.

“And you know I’m aware of how much that turns you on, right?” he asks in his ear.

"Fuck. Kiss me,” Mike orders.

He doesn’t often use this tone of voice, but you'd need to be blind not to notice the surprising effect it has on such an authoritative figure as Erwin Smith.

But his boss still isn’t one to give up control that easily, as assure the previous times they’ve been together in bed —or this couch, his kitchen, his bathroom... even under his on site desk one memorable time— combined with the way their lips fight for dominance the second they connect and the rough hands that immediately begin tearing at his clothes —well, at Erwin’s shirt that he borrowed today, actually, so Mike really couldn’t care less about the buttons sent flying around the room right now.

Mike lets out a gasp as Erwin pushes him firmly onto his back and trails his hands over the skin he’s just uncovered. His fingers find Mike’s nipples and pinch them, reaching that perfect line between pain and pleasure right away as Mike curses as much as he blesses how well Erwin’s come to know his body in only a few months of casual —is it still casual? Erwin didn’t exactly react to Nanaba calling him Mike’s boyfriend earlier— sex encounters.

The edges of his mind are already getting fuzzy, but Mike doesn’t let himself completely fall under Erwin’s spell yet.

One of his hands cups the back of Erwin’s head and adjusts the angle with enough force to bury his face in his neck, tickling his skin with the facial hair he knows Erwin finds irresistible and unexpectedly biting down, hard. It’s definitely going to leave a bruise; but for one, it’s low enough that Erwin will be able to hide whatever faded mark is left after the weekend under a high collar shirt; and this move is one of Erwin’s weaknesses that’s never failed before.

It doesn’t disappoint now, either, and Erwin moans loudly and goes slack enough at the sudden teeth impact to let Mike switch their position and land on top of him instead.

“You really shouldn’t lie to me, Mister Smith,” he growls as he settles on top of him, rotating his hips so his ass rubs against the hardening erection in Erwin’s pants even as he brings one hand to wrap his around his throat.

He spreads his fingers around his airway, teasing gently before he starts squeezing.

“Wait,” Erwin chokes out suddenly.

Mike lets go of his neck at once, dropping the act and cupping his cheek instead.

“Red?” he asks, searching Erwin’s eyes for signs of pain.

He tried to erase the surprise from his voice but knows he only partially succeeded —choking is certainly not where they’ve ever drawn the line before. Then again, if that’s what Erwin needs right now, of course he’ll stop.

“No, of course not,” Erwin says, dismissing his concerns with a scoff. “But don’t you want your assignment first?”

“Oh. Well, sure, but why… I mean, what is it, do you think I’m going to fuck your brains out so hard you won’t remember when I’m done with you?” he teases, grinding against him again.

“Actually, yes,” Erwin breathes through a tender smile.

There’s no trace of humor in his tone or on his face now, and Mike is split between a surge of white hot arousal at knowing his lover genuinely thinks that highly of him, and near-overwhelming affection for the sometimes disarmingly honest, always unpredictable, and forever complicated man he’s currently pinning down on expensive leather they’re about to ruin.

“Alright,” he concedes, putting both hands on each side of Erwin’s head and stilling his movements. “What inappropriate word do you charge me to use in workplace conversation next week, Sir?”

Erwin curls his index to coax Mike closer. He follows the order and leans over him until Erwin’s able to take his lower lip between his teeth and suck on it, and Mike’s groan lingers even after he’s let go with a loud pop.

“C.B.T,” Erwin enunciates.

Mike closes his mouth and swallows. Hard.

Erwin smirks up at him, his clever hands using the distraction to unbutton and unzip Mike’s pants in one fluid movement.

#snk #aot #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #erumike #aot fanfiction #snk fanfiction #erumike fanfiction #erwin smith #mike zacharias #miche zacharias #mikeeru #erwin x mike #erwin x miche #levihan #(minor/background but they're still in here)#my stuff #ao3 link

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elmundodeflor · 2 years ago

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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.

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