#ch: erwin smith

[levithestripper]

two dads an aunt and their unruly children

[levithestripper]

is this anything

deeply obsessed with this

[the-traveling-poet]

“𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘚𝘩𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘺 𝘓𝘶𝘤𝘬”

~Coming December 2024~

𝓢𝓾𝓶𝓶𝓪𝓻𝔂~ Life above ground could not have been a more stark contrast from the life Levi was used to leading. From making deals and dominating a scraggly crowd, to taking orders from the Scouting Regime and slaying giant beasts roaming the land outside the walls enclosing humanity. It was an adjustment he made quick enough for himself, so he thought. Between the expeditions and boring document signing, he climbed the ranks surprisingly quickly and soon found himself accompanying Commander Erwin Smith on his many ‘business meetings’ outside the district of Trost. At first, it was merely responsibility, albeit a mentally draining one, considering his strong dislike for the other regimes and their Commanders... But after learning Nile Dok had a rather alluring daughter, something about those visits into town became both more bearable and somehow more complicated for Levi. She was a stark reminder of one of the very few things he missed about his life Underground; particularly, the frequency of getting laid.

𝓒𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓷𝓽~ Levi Ackerman x F!Reader. Y/N used. Slow burn romance. MNDI; sexual themes, eventual smut, substance consumption (alcohol/cigarettes), excessive language, and just sheer fucking drama

𝓜𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽~

Ch. 1 ~ Customary Acquaintance

Ch. 2 ~ The Printer Girl

~ Dividers Here! ~

[loveandpeaceanddoughnuts]

For my insomniac: Erwin Smith x Reader [Ch. 1-2]

You are an officer in the Survey Corps under Commander Erwin Smith, and have been suffering from nightmares and insomnia since you returned from your last mission. Though you've been trying to hide it, the Commander has noticed and is determined to get you the care and rest you stubbornly refuse to give yourself.

an: ongoing fic originally posted on ao3! // cw: ptsd, sedation

You had done your best to muffle your screams. You had taken to sleeping curled up with your thin blanket over your head, face pressed to the mattress so that your inevitable night terrors would go unnoticed. Strangely enough, they had only begun once you had reached relative safety. The long nights beyond the walls on your last expedition had passed without dreams, your body pushed to exhaustion day after day so that all you could do was collapse into your bedroll when you weren’t on watch. But now, back in the familiar barracks of your regiment, the darkness had grown teeth.

Commander Erwin Smith knew his soldiers. He paid close attention to the threads that tied them all together, to any strands of dissent, resentment, mutiny- it was his duty to understand the inner workings of the Corps better than anyone, down to the last recruit. When you returned from your last mission, something broken in your head that you had yet to even name, he noticed it. The Commander had his eye on you.

Though you tried your best to hide your suffering from anyone, terrified of their pity and their judgment, you were slipping. You began arriving late for muster, your salute wobbly with fatigue. Dark circles sat beneath your eyes. The recruits you were training were able to best you in combat more than once, the simplest sparring leaving you flat on your back in the dirt. It was unbearable to you, and unacceptable to Erwin. Something had to be done.

You were summoned to his office after a week of struggle, surviving by now on a mere handful of hours of scattered sleep. You saluted as you stood in front of his desk, quickly letting the position drop when it made your vision swim. You hoped whatever he had to say would be brief.

“I didn’t say you were at ease, soldier,” he said gruffly.

You flinched, surprised at the reprimand but unable to argue. “Yes, sir!” You snapped back into a sharp salute, trying to steady your breathing.

Erwin watched you impassively, noting the way you swayed on your feet. Your labored breathing didn’t escape him either. The fact that you were barely able to stand at attention was deeply concerning, but he needed to see more to fully assess the situation since you wouldn’t confide in anyone yourself.

Clueless as to his thoughts, you fought to stay upright. The night before had been especially bad, nightmares haunting you from the moment you closed your eyes. Your mind swirled with harsh instructions to yourself. Don’t lock your knees or you’ll faint… keep your fists tight… keep your eyes on the wall behind his head…

Erwin remained watching silently. You had no idea how long he would keep this up, and the uncertainty set your heart racing. You could hear your blood rushing in your ears, and the spot you were staring at on the wall went fuzzy. You were going to pass out any second now- did he notice? Did he care? Was this the point? 

He noticed, he cared, and it was. Not that you had any evidence of it. The blonde man simply observes you, his face infuriatingly neutral. He knew his soldiers, and he knew that you had been brushing off the concern of your fellow officers. Knew that you would do almost anything to avoid the vulnerability of admitting weakness, of asking for help. “Almost anything” was starting to look like it might include collapsing on the floor of his office.

You had no sense of how much time had passed so far, overwhelmed by the effort it took to maintain your position. When had it gotten this bad? When had you lost the ability to even stand at attention? Self-loathing settled atop the burdens you were already carrying. You clench your fists tighter, willing yourself to hold still.

Erwin’s icy gaze flicks to your white knuckles, then meets yours. His lips press into a thin line. He lets a few moments crawl by before breaking the tense silence. “How are you, Captain?”

The lie was instinctual. “Fine, sir!”

His lip curled. “I see.” He shifted slightly in his chair, picking up a report from his desk and beginning to read. You were desperately trying to decide if that was a dismissal, if you could relax, when he spoke again. He was so quiet that you almost missed the instruction. “Remain at attention, soldier.”

You wanted to cry. Your legs were trembling now, sweat trickling down your spine. It itched. It hurt . But there was nothing else to do. You remained still, arms taut, one fist behind your back and the other over your pounding heart.

Erwin stared at the report without absorbing anything. He was frustrated that you had lied to him, but honestly not surprised. There was a reason you were one of his toughest officers, but it was working against you both now. “Stubborn thing,” he muttered.

“Sir?” Your voice cracked on the little word and you hated yourself for it.

“I wasn’t speaking to you,” he responded simply, turning a page. 

You gritted your teeth. This couldn’t go on forever. You could hold out. The fuzzy wall had turned into a fuzzy room, your vision swimming. You couldn’t tell if you were still standing upright- in your eyes the stiffly seated Commander seemed to be sliding out of his chair.

Erwin saw you begin to sway and fought his instinct to release you. You weren’t going to go to the medics or take yourself off-duty unless he ordered it, and you’d hate him for it if he did. He needed you to initiate the process, to stay committed to the Scouts with your heart and pride (infuriating though it was) intact.

You dug your nails into the palm hidden behind your back, trying to focus on the pain. It failed miserably, your senses dulled by exhaustion, and the only thing you really registered was the warm drip of the blood you’d drawn. You forced your eyes to focus on your Commander as he cleared his throat.

“I will ask again. How are you, Captain?”

“Fine, and you?” You gave a strained smile, trying to look pleasant but only managing demented. Blood oozed down your wrist. 

Erwin scoffed incredulously. The woman is barely standing, and she has the nerve to respond like that? He slammed the report down on his desk. “Is that so, soldier? You don’t seem to be at attention as I ordered.”

You look down dumbly, the two brain cells still awake in your fried brain trying to make sense of his words. Of course you were still at attention. That was the whole goddamn problem.

“What was that?”

Ah. You might have said that out loud. With great effort, you focused your eyes on the Commander. “Nothing, sir!” 

You might have been hallucinating at this point, but it almost looked like Erwin was worried. His brows pinched together and his mouth twisted, his fingers twitching like he wanted to reach out to you. Just as quickly the expression passed, his features smoothed back into a blank stare.

“You’re going to faint soon, aren’t you.” His voice was neutral, like he was pointing out the weather.

“Yes, sir!”

“But you’re doing fine, hm?”

“Yes, sir!” You knew that you sounded crazy now, clearly the furthest thing from fine, but you were too far gone to back down.

The Commander ran his hand through his hair and shook his head, speaking more to himself than you. “Where is your breaking point?”

“I will not break, sir!”

His eyes narrow. Your determination would be admirable if it wasn’t so foolish. He had hoped that you would crack under the strain, allowing him to intervene, but it seemed like you were going to deny him that. His sharp eyes caught the drip of blood from behind your back, and his stomach turned. Stubborn idiot. He couldn’t torture you any longer, even if it meant you won this battle.

“At ease, Captain,” he barked, finally.

As soon as you hear the command, your exhausted body gives out. Your eyes roll back and your limbs no longer respond to you. You’re unconscious before you hit the floor.

Erwin doesn’t flinch as he watches you collapse. He moves silently to your side, crouching to feel for your pulse. It’s weak but steady, and he’s relieved. He steps into the hall to flag down a guard. “Get a medic,” he orders firmly.

He watches impassively as the medic arrives and hurries you away to the infirmary. He waits until their steps have faded completely before he crumples into his chair, holding his head in his hands. “Goddamn fool.” No one is there to hear the Commander’s voice break.

---

Erwin hasn’t been able to sleep. He spent the night at his desk, eyes blurring as he shifted through reports, his mind full of you. Your stubborn resistance to admit defeat or ask for help…he ran his hands over his tired face. He hoped he had made the right decision. By collapsing in front of him, at least you couldn’t put up a front any longer, though having you dragged to the infirmary was hardly his first choice of handling the situation.

He had ordered the medic to inform him as soon as you regained consciousness, and as the night creeps closer to dawn, he grows more and more concerned that the news has not arrived. He’s startled from his ruminations by a knock on his door. “Enter,” he calls out.

The door opens and a soldier enters, saluting respectfully. “Sir, I came to inform you as requested that the Captain is awake." Erwin half-rises to his feet, leaning on the edge of his desk.

“Are they coherent?”

“Yes, sir. The medic reports that they’re conscious, though still somewhat disoriented. They’ve been asking for you, sir.”

“Thank you. You’re dismissed.” The soldier salutes again and exits the office, leaving Erwin to process the news. You’re awake, disoriented, surely in pain, and asking for him? It isn’t like you to ask for anything, least of all his time or attention in such a way. He himself had planned to give you a few days to rest and recover before broaching the subject of your mental state. Despite his plans, the image of you waking up with his name on your lips sends a pang through his chest. The Commander finds that he can’t deny you. Erwin pushes his chair back and straightens his coat, striding down the hall to the infirmary.

He hears raised voices as he nears the wing, recognizing your strident frustration immediately. As he turns the corner, he’s greeted with the sight of you struggling against a frantic medic, trying in vain to resist their ministrations.

“I’m fine, let me up! I need to get back to work!”

“You have two cracked ribs, severe dehydration, and sleep deprivation! There’s not going to be any working any time soon, Captain!”

You swung blindly at the poor medic, your muddled brain stuck on the last thing you remembered before collapsing: needing to prove yourself to your Commander. “Where is the Commander? Does he know you’re keeping me here?!”

“I’m here, and I do, Captain.”

At the gruff sound of Erwin’s voice, you and the medic both freeze. The medic snaps to attention with a crisp salute, and you struggle to sit up and do the same. Erwin’s face twists when he sees you attempt the formality, but his voice is gentle. “At ease, soldier.”

You fall back onto the cot with a ragged sigh, your head swimming. Erwin crosses to the bedside and looks down at you, his bright eyes assessing. “How are you feeling?”

Your fuzzy mind lets you respond respectfully, but much too honestly. “Like shit, sir!”

Erwin raises an eyebrow at your candid response, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I see. Please refrain from saluting, or attempting attention for the near future, Captain.”

You open your mouth to protest, and he sighs. “While I appreciate your dedication, and recognize that you are relatively new to your position, I need you to prioritize your recovery.” His gaze softens, and a strange warmth creeps up your cheeks. “You need to rest. That’s an order.”

You close your eyes, unable to resist the direct order and grateful for the clarity in your confused state. “Yes, sir.”

The Commander’s shoulders relax as you finally obey, and the medic scurries beside him to take your vitals and drape a blanket over you in the rare moment of peace. They squint up at Erwin. “She’s been a handful, Commander.” The medic discreetly crushes a pill into a glass of water as she talks, her back turned to you. “This will help her calm down, but I can’t do much more. If she keeps resisting treatment, she’s going to cause permanent damage.”

Erwin nods once as he watches you drink, the medic holding the glass to your lips like a child. “Thank you. I’ll make sure that happens.” When you’ve drained the glass, the medic excuses themselves to check on other patients. You and Erwin are left alone.

The room feels vaguely crooked from where you lay, an unsettling tilt in your tired eyes. Each stabbing breath reminds you of your weakness on the training grounds, and above all, you’re beset by the most overwhelming tiredness. How long has it been since you slept for a full night? Since you’ve held off sleep into the early dawn for fear of the nightmares that would inevitably find you? Your limbs feel heavy, the sedative gradually working its way into your system. Your eyelids feel as though they’re being dragged down.

Beside your bed, Erwin watches grimly as your eyes close. You don’t see him stretch out a hand, hovering over your arm. His eyebrows meet, indecision written on his sharp features. You look so helpless…no, not that. You’re trying your hardest to help yourself, and that too makes him want to reach out and reassure you. You look scared, hurt. He knows, better than anyone, that both those feelings are no stranger to a Scout. And yet…a protective instinct flares in his chest, too bright to ignore.

Erwin moves a chair from the corner of the room to the side of your bed and sits down heavily. You’re roused slightly by the drag of the wood, and blink in sleepy surprise to see the man beside you. You read the stress on his face, weight somehow added to the burdens he already carries. “Commander, are you alright?”

His blue eyes widen as he looks down at you. Your voice is filled with concern, and he almost smiles at the question about his well-being coming from you, in your condition. “I should be asking you that,” he says softly.

“And yet.” You smile weakly, barely holding off the sedative’s embrace.

Erwin can’t help but soften even more. “You’re stubborn, aren’t you, Captain,” he murmurs.

“Yes, sir.”

“You should be resting, not making jokes,” he chides gently, but there’s no irritation in his voice. He settles back in his chair without taking his eyes off of you.

“Yes, I should.” You sigh, loopy and loose-lipped. “So, are you?”

Erwin closes his eyes for a moment, touched by your concern and loathe to admit it even to himself. “I’m fine,” he assures you. “Don’t worry about me. You focus on healing.”

You watch the muscles clench in his jaw, notice the circles under his bright eyes. “You’re lying,” you whisper. As soon as the words are out, you go pale and slap your hand over your mouth. Did the medic slip you something? What were you saying?!

Your whisper catches Erwin off guard. His calm smile slides away, and he stares at you incredulously as the realization sinks in that you, in your weakened state, just blatantly called your Commander a liar. You wait, frozen, for his reaction. A slap? A court martial?

You truly think you’re hallucinating when Erwin begins to laugh. His lips twitch first as he tries to hide it, but you’re horrified to hear an honest-to-god chuckle come out of him. “That medic knows what they’re doing, eh?” He composes himself and shakes his head.

“Forgive me, Commander, please. I’m- I’m not myself!”

Erwin leans forward with a sigh, waving away your apology. “It’s fine,” he reassures, his voice gentle. “You’re drugged up, exhausted. I’m not going to hold it against you this once.”

“Thank you, Commander.” You breathe out shakily, hands trembling. You meant what you said, but somehow it bypassed your usual don’t-sass-your-powerful-Commander filter.

This time, you see him reach out, his hand hovering above yours for a moment. As he hesitates, impassively waging an internal war, you shrink back into the cot, ashamed and still anxious for him. The strange behavior only adds to your concern.

Erwin’s heart clenches as you shrink away from him, wide-eyed and fearful. All he wants is to comfort you. He clenches his jaw, making a decision at last as he gently places his hand on yours.

You gape at him. “...sir?”

Even Erwin looks surprised, his gaze dropping to where his hand completely covers your smaller one on the bed. He swallows, his thumb gently caressing yours in a soothing gesture. “You’re safe. Rest.”

His voice, low and soft in a way you’ve never heard, lulls you. As you relax, the sedative rushes past your last defenses and pushes you into unconsciousness. With the last of your awareness you squeeze his hand tightly. “Thank you…”

Erwin’s eyes widen a fraction at the gesture. The feeling of your hand gripping his, even in your disoriented state, sends a strange jolt through him, but he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he intertwines his fingers with yours, holding your hand firmly.

The Commander lets out a low sigh as the rhythmic sound of your breathing fills the room. His eyes don’t move from your form, absorbing every detail, the shadows under your eyes, the flush of your cheeks, the gentle rise and fall of your chest. His mind swirls with conflicted emotions. The sight of you lying there, so vulnerable yet so determined- he’s overwhelmed with the urge to keep you safe.

He keeps a silent vigil at your bedside, still holding your hand. Responsibilities swirl guiltily in his mind, everything he should be doing instead of sitting in the infirmary holding a subordinate’s hand. Yet he can’t bring himself to leave. Your hand in his feels so right, anchoring him. He’s reluctant to let it go. So he remains there, internally berating himself for his weakness.

He’s lost in these thoughts when you stir. Your steady breathing hitches as you shift and pull his hand closer in your sleep, curling up around his arm. Erwin’s heart clenches as he looks down at you, leaning forward as if you were stronger than him, holding him close. He should pull away, he should maintain the boundaries- detach himself from you for both your sakes. But he’s weak. He can’t bring himself to take away the comfort you were so clearly seeking.

He tries to mentally justify it all: you’re a valued officer, injured, disoriented, not in your right mind. That’s the only reason you’re holding on to him so unyieldingly, so trustingly. The only reason he’s staying.

That’s what Erwin tells himself, over and over, as he lets himself drift off in the chair at your side.

[Ch. 3 here!]

[levithestripper]

they're too cute i cant

some very little guys

[karikarasuno]

sonder ch. viii

Pairing: Erwin Smith x Fem!Reader x Levi Ackerman

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Warnings/Tags: Lack of Communication, Flirty Behavior, Masturbation, Eavesdropping, Descriptions of Sex, Too Many Feelings

Word Count: 5.6k

song(s) for the chapter: my all by mariah carey

chapter vii | chapter viii | chapter ix

Pandora’s box. That was what Moblit and Hange were currently trying to pry open from you with their bare hands. When you agreed to take a late lunch with Moblit, you hadn’t realized that your chicken caesar wrap would be accompanied with a side of interrogation. All lighthearted and well-intentioned, but you’ve been unsurprisingly irritable lately. Your newly realized feelings for Levi and Erwin left you emotionally drained and physically tense. Not that it was anyone else’s fault but your own. Moblit, though, was not helping the situation. And Hange’s erratic commentary was truly the cherry on top.

“I’m just saying you all seem awfully close,” Moblit said. He was teasing you and it was clear, but you couldn’t help but bristle at his words. 

“Friends fuck sometimes and that’s okay,” Hange added, thoughtful and serious, which made your jaw drop and your food bitter in your mouth. 

“Hange, please,” you said, pushing your half-eaten wrap to the side and taking a sip of your iced hibiscus tea instead. “We’re not,” your lips refused to fix around the word fuck out loud, “sleeping together.”

“So then what are you three doing together all the time?” Moblit asked innocently. The innocence was a mere facade, though, since you knew he was simply trying to fish for information. 

“Hanging out. Y’know, like we are, right now.” 

“Right,” he said unconvinced. “So you expect us all to believe you’re not dating?”

“Yes, exactly that. Because it’s not a belief if it’s a fact,” you bit out, your eyes narrowing at him when he smiled and shrugged.

“So you and Erwin are just hanging out as friends this Saturday?”

“How the hell do you even know about that?!” You whispered loudly, leaning towards him and snatching a potato wedge from his plate as payment for your distress. Levi had asked a favor of you yesterday when he had to take a last minute shift for Saturday since one of his regular patients needed an emergency session. Erwin’s father and his fiancee signed up for a dance lesson for their upcoming wedding and invited Erwin and Levi to join them. But given Levi’s schedule change, he asked you to join them in his place. You said yes (obviously) because you said yes to all of their requests, even if it was at your own emotional expense. 

“Levi told me,” Hange said casually. “He only feels a little bad over it because he hates dancing.”

“Of course he did and of course he does,” you responded grumpily as you slouched back in your seat and looked out the window you were seated beside. “This is just a favor anyway, nothing else.”

“Not a date,” Moblit nodded, as if he was agreeing with you when in actuality he was pressing you further. 

“Do you think my first date with someone would be a double date with his dad and his dad’s fiancee?”

“Sounds romantic enough to me,” he grinned, swiping the uneaten half of your wrap and taking a large bite in retaliation for the wedge you stole. You stared at him for a minute, observing the tiny moments of intimacy he always shared with Hange. The light grazing of his fingers on the back of their neck or the way they always made sure he had enough to drink in his cup. It seemed so easy. Fluid. Envy turned in your gut and it was only worsened by the knowledge of knowing your friends bore witness to your complicated relationship with Levi and Erwin, but knew you couldn’t do anything about it. 

“I don’t see what your point is,” you mumbled, glancing away from them again as Hange took a napkin and cleaned the corner of Moblit’s mouth that had a smear of caesar dressing left there aggressively. You fought a disgusted sneer at the softness between them to not come off as bitter. Which you definitely were.

“My point is, if it sounds like dating and it looks like dating,” he said it slowly as if you were beyond the capability of comprehension. “It’s dating.”

“Well maybe you should break it to your buddies that according to you they have a girlfriend,” you said with an annoyed eye roll. “Because as far as I know I am their neighbor who also happened to turn into a friend.”

“I hope you don’t take this the wrong way,” Hange started, leaning forward with their elbows on the table. “But we’ve known Levi and Erwin for a long time and all we’re trying to say is it’s worth a conversation.”

“What conversation is there to be had?” You whined in exasperation. The memory of your almost kiss with Levi popped into your mind without your consent, the skin of your neck and chest warming up at the thought. That was a conversation that definitely needed to be had, but it had already been weeks since that night and neither of you made a move to bring it up. And with all your dinners together since then another incident like that hadn’t happened again. So, you forced it from your mind and refused to dwell on something that may have meant nothing at all. 

“The one regarding your feelings,” Moblit emphasized.

“What feelings?” You said stubbornly, arms crossing and an agitated huff released from your lips. You were starting to hate how easy it was for Moblit to read you. He had an uncanny ability of seeing straight through you. His intuition was nearly always right, especially when it came to the sticky complication of the emotions you swore you hid quite well. 

“You’re hopeless,” Moblit shook his head, placing your wrap back on your plate with a large chunk missing. Thankfully, they dropped the topic after that. But your mind couldn’t help but toss the concept around in your head for the rest of the day. 

They made it sound so simple. So normal. As if you entering an already established relationship with two men wasn’t odd or complicated. And it wasn’t as if you were any sort of advocate for traditional relationships. It was just something you never considered. A relationship with one man nearly broke you in two. And almost a year later, you were still reeling from the aftermath. It was hard enough grappling with the fact that you were falling in love with two people at the same time. You recognized long ago that you had the capacity for it. Loving people with your whole being was not a foreign concept to you. But extending that love, acting on that love, that you held for Levi and Erwin seemed crazy in a way that you couldn’t imagine. 

If one man had the capability to crack your soul in half so deeply the damage seemed irreparable, you could not fathom giving your heart away to two. Surely, the loss of their friendship alone would leave you raw and exposed. It would reverse all the work you had done this far. And you were afraid of the person you would become if you faced another loss like that. You felt jaded and cynical enough. If you handed your heart over to them, only for it to be returned in pieces seemed like a fruitless endeavor. Stupid, even. 

So you kept it exactly where it was. In the center of your chest with a stitched crack down the middle. 

“Erwin, we’re going to be late,” you called for him from his doorway. He was adamant on finding his black t-shirt, which you didn’t realize was even a remotely big deal. But, apparently it was and you had to be at the dance studio by 5pm. Currently, it was 4:36pm and it was a 20 minute drive. 

“Just a second! I found it,” he yelled back excitedly and you couldn’t hold back your loud sigh because you really did hate being late to things like this. It always made you anxious. Another minute passed as you began to tap your heeled foot against the concrete step outside his door because you were convinced that if you stepped inside he wouldn’t feel your obvious sense of urgency. 

“Erwin!” You shouted again, pulling your phone out of your purse to double check the time. 

“I’m coming,” he rounded the corner breathlessly, black shirt fitted around his torso with a zip up slung over his shoulder since it was still chilly outside this early in the new spring season. 

“You looked fine before,” you complained, grabbing his forearm and tugging him outside when he was close enough. “I don’t know why you needed to change.”

He locked the door behind himself, bounding down the steps to meet you at the gate. His hand found the small of your back then as he guided the two of you to his car, “I wanted to match.”

He grinned down at you with pleasant sincerity. As if matching with you was a necessity to this particular outing, and if he didn’t he would’ve ruined the entire thing. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope,” he smiled again and opened the door for you. “What’s the point in going to a couples dance class if we don’t match?”

Your jaw ticked at the word couple, your muscles spasming in your lower back when his hand disappeared and left you cold and tense. He was excited, but you could sense his nervous energy the moment you were in the car and driving towards your destination. This wouldn’t be his first time meeting his father’s fiancee, but it was still evident that he struggled with the idea of his dad getting remarried. And in typical Erwin fashion he played everything off as if it didn’t truly bother him. But knowing him for almost a year now, you could sense the tiny cracks in his facade. The fractures in his usually ebullient personality were starting to become more and more apparent. You wanted him to feel comfortable in your presence. And at present his nerves were crackling off of him like sparklers in the hands of a child on new year’s eve.

“Are you nervous?” You asked, eyes tracking a couple on the sidewalk beside the car as they walked their dog. 

“About?” His tone was hesitant, like he could sense you calling him out on his anxious energy. But instead of confronting him like Levi probably would have, you allowed his feign on indifference to steer your conversation. 

“Stepping on my toes,” you said with a teasing smile at him. He stopped at a red light, turning to grin at you–teeth white and smile blinding. 

“Oh sweetheart,” he replied in playful condescension, “I’m a terrific dancer.”

“We’ll have to see about that,” you responded snidely, expression unconvinced as you turned to look at him just as the light turned green. He released a loud laugh, his hand moving from the gear shift and hovering above your knee for a second. You were curious as to what he was about to do, your thigh tensing involuntarily before his hand landed on your knee and he squeezed. Your breath was held tightly in your chest, your cheeks growing warmer (a constant, uncontrollable reaction you were becoming increasingly more irritated by), and when his hand didn’t move for the rest of the drive every attempt you made at relaxing only made the discomfort fester more beneath your skin. 

The studio was small and on the second floor of a renovated townhome with a cute bookstore on the first floor. On one side of the room were floor to ceiling windows with a perfect view of the park that was just across the street. The lights were golden and dimmed to create an intimate and private atmosphere. Before you entered the studio, your short heels clicking satisfyingly against the glossed wooden floor panels, Erwin’s phone rang and he stepped back out, leaving you to greet the instructors alone. 

They were an older couple with thick accents that you could only attribute to an eastern European country, but you weren’t sure which one. 

“Hello, pretty,” the woman greeted you first, leaning over to press her cheek against yours. She was beaming at you, her eyes sparkling with excitement and you couldn’t stop the sheepish smile from stretching your lips in response. Her husband, you assumed, extended his hand to you in a warm handshake. 

You heard Erwin finally walk in behind you again, tugging on your purse to slip his phone inside before he said, “Looks like it’s just you and me. That was my dad and he said he can’t make it.”

“Is everything ok?” You said with a note of worry, but also the itchy feeling of anxiety stirred in your chest because this truly was a date now. Whether you wanted to admit that or not. 

“Yeah, he’s okay. I refused to ask what he was up to considering the fact that he was out of breath.” He shivered at the thought, and you laughed at the grossed out look on his face. 

“I don’t blame you,” you said, stepping aside so the instructors could introduce themselves. You had to suppress an eye roll when Erwin kissed the older woman on the cheek and she pulled away blushing. Someone had to be immune to his charms and it was unfortunate that it wasn’t you.  

“You two make such a beautiful couple,” the lady said warmly as she led Erwin further into the room and you saw his face light up in the mirror that was parallel to you. 

“Oh, we’re n-”you started, but was swiftly interrupted by Erwin’s appreciative, “thank you.”

Maybe it was easier to indulge rather than explain in a roundabout way to strangers that you weren’t actually together. And that he actually had a boyfriend. Both of which you spend an alarming amount of time with. 

“If it sounds like dating and it looks like dating. It’s dating.”

Moblit’s words clanged around your skull like a ping pong ball gone rogue. The sharp sounds rang in your ears and you were dumbly frozen in place until Erwin turned towards you with an outstretched hand and a teasing, “are we gonna dance or are you too worried about stepping on my toes?”

Embarrassingly enough, you did step on Erwin’s toes. Not because you lacked the coordination or balance or rhythm, but because you were stiff as a board. He was impossibly close to you. One hand on the small of your back applied enough pressure to keep your bodies pressed together while his other hand held onto yours securely. It was a simple waltz, but you couldn’t concentrate on anything besides the way his firm body felt pressed up against the softness of yours. 

Finally, when you were awarded a short break as the instructors went over to choose another song, you all but pushed Erwin off of you so that you could inhale a breath that wasn’t stained with the smell of his cologne. He was smiling as if he was thoroughly enjoying himself. And looking at you as if he was privy to some sort of damning information about you. 

“You need to loosen up,” he said while stepping back into your space, his hands swiftly finding your shoulders and massaging the very present tension there. You sighed, the knot that settled near your neck forever ago being worked out by his attentive and strong fingers. “You know Levi can massage this out for you,” he added when he felt the obvious discomfort in your shoulders. 

“I’m not gonna bother him with that,” you shrugged Erwin off as you said it, inhaling another steadying breath. 

“It wouldn’t be a bother,” he chuckled, “we have a massage table in the guest room for a reason.”

You had never stepped foot in their guest room so that came as a surprise. “I’ll think about it,” you said, waving off the suggestion because downright refusing would only trigger his more persistent side. 

“Ok! Back to positions,” the woman called out, hands clapping together giddily. You recognized the song immediately. The first sounds of My All by Mariah Carey delicately filled the room and your spine tensed once again. You stopped yourself from groaning because out of all the songs this one had all the romantic yearning you could possibly imagine. And with Erwin’s hands on you again and your chest firmly secured against his, you had to close your eyes to steady the racing of your heart that you were sure he could feel pounding against his rib cage. 

“Relax,” he leaned over and whispered in your ear, his lips dangerously close to touching the shell of your ear as he squeezed your hand in an attempt to be reassuring. “Stop concentrating and let me lead you.”

You allowed your forehead to fall to his chest and swallowed down the apprehension that wasn’t allowing you to just enjoy the moment. Regardless of what Moblit said or how you felt for Erwin or Levi, you shouldn’t ruin the fragments of familiarity and intimacy offered by them. Whether it was their strange way of extending friendship or something much more complicated, you took it. You let Erwin lead you in a waltz. You relaxed your shoulders and when you took one last breath and looked up at him he was staring down at you with affection. Maybe tonight you would pretend– just as he had when you stepped in the room– that you really were a couple. That tonight instead of going home to a bed alone, you would feel the safety of two bodies beside you. In an ideal world it would be that simple. 

But reality had a sick way of reminding you that nothing was ever that simple. But a girl could dream. 

“Oh my god, look!” You said as you made your way to the car. There was a flower beginning to bloom right beside a tree. And even though snow hadn’t fallen in weeks, the dreadful chill persisted. And while the sun set hours later, spring had yet to reveal herself to you. 

Erwin stopped suddenly beside you, his arm bumping into your back from the abruptness of it. You were pointing excitedly at the flower. It was a tiny little thing with white petals. Nothing worth noting, really, but the stranger of hope began to introduce herself to you again. It was odd how something so seemingly insignificant made your heart grow in your chest. 

“Oh would you look at that,” he said, following the line of your finger with his eyes, “Levi’s gonna be happy about this. He’s been grumbling about his plants for the last month.”

“It’s how he relieves his stress,” you teased, smiling at the memory of Levi fussing over his herbs that sat in the kitchen window and cursing winter for overstaying its welcome. 

You heard Erwin scoff out a laugh beside you while unlocking the car as you approached. “I, personally, could think of far better ways to relieve stress,” he said as he reached around your shoulder to open the passenger side door for you. There was far more suggestion in his tone than you appreciated. And with how close his voice was to your ear again, you couldn’t suppress the shiver that went straight down your spine and scattered frenetically across your skin. 

The initiation of temptation had to be purposeful on his end. The lingering touches and over-indulgent words couldn’t be a coincidence and you were beginning to wonder if this was some game or if all three of you were treading across a tightrope that got thinner and thinner the further you balanced across. Someone was bound to fall first. And you were afraid it just might be you since you were barely hanging on as it was. 

But the fear of breaking after such a long fall was what kept your core tight and your body forcing your feet to remain unsteady on the rope. You were starting to believe, though, that neither Erwin nor Levi had those same priorities. Especially when, as you were stepping into the vehicle, Erwin leaned over and pressed a chaste kiss to the side of your head. It was so unexpected that it gave you pause, your foot braced on the floor of the car as you whipped your head to face him. He was smirking at you expectantly, eagerly awaiting your reaction like he was trying to bait you into something. 

And in your disheveled state most of the words you knew seemed to escape you. Yet, the only thing you could manage was a petulant, “leave that man and his hobbies alone. Don’t be nasty.”

His grin grew wildly into something wicked. Your stomach flipped and desire swirled around dangerously low in your gut. He nudged you into a seated position, your head bumping against the head rest before he grabbed the seatbelt and clicked it into place for you. When his face was merely a few inches from yours, his breath casting puffs of air across your lips, you were taken back to the evening on your couch with Levi. And you wondered if he knew what almost happened that night. But as much as you wanted to look up into his eyes for some sort of confirmation, they refused to stray from his lips. 

“Fine,” you saw his lips shift around the word seductively, “but just know my idea of stress relief is much more fun.”

He pushed himself off the center console, ducking out of your door and then shutting it behind him. You were startled in a way you couldn’t really describe. Desire flowed through your veins like fear. Lust drove through your heart like anxiety. And it was the most conflicting set of emotions you have ever had the displeasure of feeling. Because now he wasn’t even being secretive about it. 

And for the first time since befriending the neighborly couple, you were beginning to feel like you may be in over your head. 

“Ok,” you started as you strode into Moblit’s office at 8:06 am, exactly two minutes after you saw him enter the office. He barely had his things set down before you shut his door and closed the blind to the small window he had that overlooked the cubicles. 

“What’s with the secrecy?” He said, a bit concerned, but mostly amused. He was still shrugging off his coat when you started to pace. Which you knew wasn’t the best look, but after your evening with Erwin and then stealthily avoiding them for the rest of the weekend to protect your sanity after what you overheard after he dropped you off at your door. You knew you weren’t crazy regardless of how you absolutely, positively felt crazy. 

Erwin wouldn’t intentionally fuck his boyfriend loud enough for you to hear through the wall that separated your living room from their bedroom. He couldn’t possibly know you were even laying on your couch that night because you were too lazy to get up and drag your ass to bed because strangely enough the arches of your feet were sore from dancing in heels for an hour and a half. It had to be another coincidence. But you knew the mood Erwin was already in when you left the studio. He had reckless energy coursing through him the entire drive home. Even when you stopped to grab takeout on the way home, he still possessed that crackly, staticky spirit that had you shifting in your seat expectantly. 

So, you could confidently assume that he was horny. Especially with the way he carried himself with a sense of emboldened carelessness. He kissed you again on your doorstep, this time on your cheek and narrowly missing your lips so much so he might as well have kissed them. So, it shouldn’t have come as a surprise when you were startled awake from a sleep you hadn’t realized you fell under to a thud. It was muffled and distant sounding. You knew it couldn’t have come from inside your apartment so you decided to ignore it and chalk it up to the sounds of the city. But then, as sleep threatened to pull you under again, you heard a groan and a creak. Realization flooded over you like a bucket of cold water. Goosebumps rose on your skin in recognition of what was occurring on the other side of the wall and a fierce blush blossomed on your cheeks. Your whole body rising in temperature and that strange feeling returned to your gut. 

The heels of your palms pressed into your eyes and you knew you should probably gather yourself and head to your bed. But when you heard another moan, this one longer and needier than the last, you struggled to come up with a good enough argument to actually get up. One that based itself on something other than this probably being morally wrong. Eavesdropping on your friends while they were clearly getting hot and heavy was not an appropriate way to end your evening, but the weight of your touch deprivation was burying you into the cushions beneath you. You couldn’t even remember the last time you touched yourself. With the chronic stress and anxiety that exhausted your body it was difficult to conjure up the energy to even get yourself off. 

But this, this fervent desire that had rooted itself in your bones hours ago due to Erwin’s blatant teasing, was nearly suffocating you. Maybe you shouldn’t have allowed your hand to trail down your abdomen, smoothing over your sleepshirt and slipping hesitantly between your thighs. And you shouldn’t have matched the pace of your fingertips rubbing greedy circles against your clit with the way their headboard thumped against the wall. You muffled your own moans with the back of your free hand, merely mimicking what you knew to be Levi’s voice groaning alongside what you could only assume was Erwin fucking him. 

Your imagination, as vivid as it was, was running away from you. The idea of Erwin and Levi together in any position you could pull from your own memory was sending a hurried flush over your skin. Lips on heated skin, hands kneading at reddened flesh, it was too much. You already knew how pretty Levi looked with rose-tinted cheeks and wine-stained lips, and you could nearly feel Erwin’s strong body cradling yours. Being held by him without the layers of thin clothing separating your sweat-dampened skin. It was surprising how close you were to finishing with only a few sticky strokes to your clit. The pent up sexual frustration evidently brought to its boiling point. 

All you could hear, all that was replaying in your mind as you came over your own fingers was Levi whining out Erwin’s name in desperation. The sound of his release was obvious when Erwin could only respond with a “yes, Levi” and the pace of the headboard hitting the wall quickened for a few seconds before everything went silent. 

You lied there in astonishment and shame. Your fingers wet with your own release and your body slightly sweaty from unexpected exertion. How were you going to face them again after that? When all you would be able to hear when they spoke to you was the gruffness of their moans and the noises they made as they came?

It would surely haunt your every conversation and interaction from now until forever. 

“Are you gonna talk or would you prefer to burn a hole into the rug with your incessant pacing?”

Moblit’s voice startled you straight out of your memory. Your orientation returned to you once you remembered you were in Moblit’s office on the verge of a nervous breakdown instead of post-orgasm and spiraling out on your own couch after listening to your best friends have sex. When you met Moblit’s gaze, his amusement diminished in favor of true concern. Maybe you also looked just as crazy as you felt. 

“I’m in big trouble,” you said, arms crossing and eyes averting to look out onto his view of the lake that was miles away but still visible through the spaces between the high rises. 

“Legal? Do you owe someone money?” He said, hands leaning onto his desk and it should’ve sounded like a joke but he was being utterly serious. 

“I don’t want to know why that was where your mind immediately went. Quite frankly, it scares me,” you said, expression a mixture of confusion and astoundment. “But no, I don’t owe anyone money. I just maybe haven’t been completely forthcoming about my current situation with Levi and Erwin.”

“You totally fucked, didn’t you?” He smirked at you like he knew it all along. Like you couldn’t possibly keep anything from him without him finding out in some way. Which should’ve agitated you more than it did, but you were too wrapped up in your mess to scold him over it.

“No!” You said louder than you intended, so you lowered your voice when you added, “we didn’t fuck. At this point, I think that would be the simpler situation.”

“I have a feeling you’re being a little dramatic,” he said softly, again acting as if having a threesome with your two closest friends who were in a years long relationship didn’t have the potential to ruin things to an atomic degree. 

“Ugh,” you sighed, deciding to sit down in one of the chairs in front of his desk. “A couple of weeks ago Levi and I almost kissed, and up until my date on Saturday with Erwin I was under the impression that he didn’t know about that given the fact that Levi and I have pretended it never happened. We were also high so I kinda thought he didn’t remember it.”

“So it was a date,” Moblit grinned, leaning back comfortably in his office chair as he looked directly at you. 

“Can you believe that his dad canceled on us at the last minute?” You complained, throwing your hands up in exasperation. “So, yes it very much felt like a fucking date. And it really messed with my head, especially because Erwin was being so…”

You allowed the sentence to hang there, not sure how to really describe Erwin’s behavior towards you that night. He was treating you like it was the early stages of a relationship. The unmistakable air of a date, the touching, the closeness. It was all so real and unplatonic-like. You groaned into your hands while your body fell deeper into the seat. 

“What do I do?” You emphasized whinily, peering at Moblit’s smug face between the cracks in your fingers. 

“Did Erwin make a move on you?” He asked simply, and you scrunched your face up in thought because the answer in your mind was yes, but the lines were blurry and you couldn’t see them clearly enough to come up with a straight answer. 

“I mean, how would you define ‘making a move’?” You thought back to the kisses he left on your temple and cheek, which he has done before. And the way his hands never strayed far from your body, whether it was your waist or the small of your back or even when he rested it on your knee on the drive there. You thought of his reassuring words and how he put your seatbelt on for you once you left the dance lesson. Those all felt like moves, but they also all felt like Erwin. 

And Erwin was handsy and clingy. 

“You know exactly how I would define it,” he replied dumbly and you fought the eye roll that always followed you whenever you spoke with Moblit. You loved him, but weren’t always too fond of him calling you out on your bullshit. 

“Fine, then yes, he was very,” you made weird grabby hands at Moblit, who frowned and tilted his head but seemed to understand what you were trying to convey. 

“Did he kiss you?”

“Not exactly.”

“Not exactly?”

“He kissed me like right here,” you pointed to the corner of your mouth and refused to make eye contact with him. You felt so juvenile and ridiculous. This was so much harder than having a teenage crush. So much worse too. 

And it was made even worse when you heard Moblit stifle a laugh. When you glared at him, he couldn’t suppress the cackle where it was currently lodged in his throat and slipped out in one absurd sound. 

“You’re so annoying,” you grumbled as you rose to your feet, fully intent on trudging back to your office and hiding out there for the rest of the day. 

“Wait,” he called after you, and you stubbornly turned around to face him again. “I’m gonna suggest something a little crazy… talk to them.”

“Why can’t you just let me be difficult?” You had to stop yourself from stomping one of your feet on the ground petulantly. 

“Because this isn’t as difficult as you’re making it, I promise.”

You heard the earnestness in his voice. He truly believed that this thing between you, Levi, and Erwin would work out. And you weren’t sure if he was delusional or if you were oblivious. But the ache in your chest only ever subsided when you were with them. The feelings you harbored could be one-sided but as each day ended and another began that didn’t seem like the case. Fear gripped you, though, tightly around the neck, squeezing your vocal cords together and refusing you to utter a word about your love for them. Your very real, awful, tragic, beautiful love for them. 

“What if I ruin it again?” You said barely above a whisper. You wanted to shrink into yourself. Nothing but raw insecurity ripped through you. “I can’t do that to myself again.”

[moonspirit]

Hey moon, this doesn’t have anything to do with shipping and I’m not sure if you’re still doing requests or anything, but what do you think about Armin looking up to Erwin as kind of a father figure?

Like they have a lot of things in common and Erwin canonically acknowledged how smart Armin is, and kind of respected him for it. And Armin losing his whole family before he was a teenager probably impacted him so much, I think he’s kind of a sensitive person who tries not to show it, but just thinks Erwin is so cool.

Sorry for the long paragraph.

Hello anon!

I'm sorry for inserting an excerpt I once wrote; a really tiny bit about this very thing (for those who read VBEOW, this is from Ch 10) :

In that brief moment that he fires his flares, he feels honoured and proud to be working under his Commander. To stand beside him, see the gears working in his head, understand the logical reasoning behind his strategization – skills obtained through so many years of glorious, bloody experience. 

He watches Commander Erwin Smith choose his priorities.

I really agree with the notion that Armin looked up to Erwin not only for his intelligence and Commandeering skills, but also as a substitute parental figure. We never got much of the two beyond their canon interactions (over too soon by S3) but it's really good to imagine that Armin sought Erwin out several times for an intelligent conversation.

I believe one of the best things Erwin did was attempt to lift Armin up into a more Commandeering role considering he was still a green recruit.. The S3 part when he puts his soldiers under Armin's command is one of my personal favourites. Him recognising Armin's potential to be someone far greater in the future speaks to Erwin's ability to judge a person well by their character, personality and talent. I think that by doing these things such as giving Armin credence when he voices his suspicions, doubts and theories, acknowledging his intelligence and strategic skill, he was not only ensuring the development of a future Commander succeeding him, but also in giving the 15 year old a push to see for himself what he's worth.

That said, I'm not of the opinion that Erwin's and Armin's similarities are many aside from the obvious surface level ones. They are both good Commanders, they are both sharp, they are both highly skilled tacticians and strategists and they're both blonde, blue eyed, and bushy eyebrowed. But that's about it imo. Where Erwin was rather selfish, Armin was incredibly selfless. Where Erwin employed approaches that could lead to mass casualties, Armin was incredibly cautious and prioritised minimising loss of life. There are others too but that's for another post.

On the fatherly front, for Armin, yes, I see it. I see him thinking he'd like to learn from Erwin, study his methods, put forward his own and get feedback on what works. I also can see him yearning to be acknowledged by Erwin in some small way as a result of the admiration he holds for the Commander. Armin really respected Erwin for his singular focus and determination - something he's known to waver in himself thanks to his insecurity and hesitations (here's another difference between them).

I personally like to think they played a game of chess or something together, sometime. By accident, of course. But in that game Erwin probably saw a lot in what this boy was made up of. Similarly I think Armin saw what his Commander was made up of, only bettering his understanding of the person, and making him glad to have spent one hour, even if just one hour, with a man of his stature and excellence.

Because you see, he will be searching for a parent figure all his life. Nobody will *be* that forever, he will just spend life finding bits and pieces of what his parents could've been like to him if they'd lived. He found them in Erwin, Hange, Levi... And he will continue to find them in others as his life goes on. Because when you can never have the one thing you want to have, you are condemned to a life of yearning.

[stilemawillow]

MTIJ | Ch.30 City of Dumbassery, Here I Come

|mtij masterlist|

pairing: levi ackerman x reader

word count: 13k

summary: a girl with a variety of hidden complexes has to live with a french asshole for nine months. easy? on the surface. problematic? definitely. romantic? not too much, or at least they’d make it a point to say so everytime when asked. the end? please, their dynamic isn’t as simple as that.

warnings: nsfw content; mentions of nudity; virginity loss; oral sex (f! receiving); protected sex; explicit sexual content; reader discretion advised

A hundred-dollar question: where do people go to blow off steam when their interns weren’t back back from their vacation yet? First and foremost, never City of Dumbassery as it’s not a place for relaxation. I might’ve been its main population these days, but I fancied myself a rational person capable of making the right choices when needed. Pretend you’re not looking at my romantic history. The right choice, however, wasn’t always right in the heat of the moment, only in perspective, so we begin this scene with me, seated on Erwin Smith’s couch with Hanji Zoe and a cup of coffee.

For more information on the right-est choice I made as of late, keep watching. Or as asshole-me insists on promoting: Come see the prequel to the biggest fuck-up of this girl’s life. I, though oblivious to its imminent eventuation at the point where we start, had a vague notion of what I wanted the next few days to look like. Let’s just say, humourlessly enough, that my wildest dreams came nowhere close to the reality that would take place.

“I’m sorry about last time, (Y/N). I didn’t know about you and Eren.” Hanji’s contrite apology made my smile widen as I lifted the cup of coffee to my lips. Dismissing the fact she brought the topic right back with the intention to make amends, Hanji was a good person and clearly sincere in her ways of regarding me. Kindness was one thing, but this woman’s pure cordiality was admirable.

“It’s not a problem. I could tell it wasn’t your intention to hurt me.” The corner of my mouth twitched in self-reproach at the manipulative bullshit I let slip. Instantly, I corrected: “Not that I was hurt.” If it’d been Annie, she wouldn’t straight-up laughed. Had it been Levi, he would’ve stared at me like I was dumb for thinking him dumb enough to buy it. But this was Hanji and she just smiled reassuringly.

“You can share if you want to. That’s what I’m here for with all my friends,” she offered. It sounded tempting but I couldn’t allow myself that kind of openness yet. Annie was, as always, the only person who knew the full story in all its repulsive glory but if I wanted to preserve (Levi’s privacy) my reputation, I couldn’t tell the whole thing here. The whole thing – look at me dodging the serious parts in an attempt to make myself feel better. I couldn’t tell Hanji about my intoxicated attempt to sleep with her friend, who gave dubious if any consent. Sounded appropriately disgusting like this.

“Mike and Erwin seem like they lead pretty decent lives, though.” Redirecting the topic, ignoring everything weird, dismissing all as a dirty scheme meant to humiliate me – a methodical step-by-step guide on how to be a paranoid bitch. It would’ve been my equivalent of the Bible if I weren’t an atheist. Even if I regularly used OMG, if I had to pick a fictional character to believe was real, at least I’d pick one from a book with a legit author – something by King, Thackeray, Hemingway, Tolkien, Orwell or Hawthorne. Following that train of thought, I might as well start worshipping Mickey Mouse – it’d do me more good than the big guy with the beard who loves me but would make me suffer for all eternity for stepping out of line once. I did it a lot.

“It wasn’t always like that. Not to mention Levi was stuck in the gutter a month back.” Hanji’s words snapped me out of my daze. “I know I told you to wait for him, but I don’t trust him, so make sure you keep this conversation a secret,” she warned while leaning forward as if afraid the walls would hear. The suspense, though exaggerated and a bit comical, made me put down my coffee. “So, you know how Petra is mentioned here and there?” I nodded. “She was Levi’s fiancé. She died in a car crash last October.” I knew I should’ve reacted appropriately but I couldn’t force it quickly enough. Hanji noticed. “You don’t look shocked.”

“No, but I am surprised. A lot of things make sense now. I’m sorry for your loss.” I hastened to make a recovery to lessen the doubt along the planes of her face. A pang tugged on my heart. When I considered the alternate reality where Petra hadn’t died, the notion of Levi not arriving for his internship was incomprehensible. He’d be studying hard at home and married. No rings, no chaos, no cheating for me – yes, good, but no company around the house either, no distraction and no comfort.

“You haven’t done anything to apologise for it,” Hanji said. “Anyways. Shorty was in a really bad place the months after. Working himself to the bone, no sleep, no food, no nothing. He just had to be doing something. The one good thing that came out of it was his weekly visits to his mother.” A small pause, a moment of consideration for her and an odd feeling of fascination for me. I was soaking it up like a sponge because I was seeing, at last, his angle. “Maybe it hit him that if death came for Petra, it could come for Kuchel, too. I can’t know for sure. All I know is he exhausted himself to the point he collapsed. Unconscious for three whole days. Isabel told him he’d gotten the internship when he woke up.”

“So he used it as an escape,” I finished. It was a logical conclusion. Hanji nodded. Avoiding pain wasn’t the way but he’d been desperate to get away and the internship had been the perfect opportunity. He’d grabbed his bags, boarded the plane and then… well, had to deal with me. Not a warm welcome by any means. He hadn’t even had the energy to get angry or look like he felt anything. I hadn’t known, hadn’t cared enough to see. It made me uncomfortable to realise it.

“Flew over a whole ocean and kept working,” Hanji proceeded. “He wanted something to distract himself with. When he ran out of work because he did overtime, he started calling home more often. Vague details were all he gave, but I got the feeling he had something else to work on.” Hanji’s words made a lopsided smile kiss my lips. He’d wanted to busy himself with my well-being, but I’d taken it the wrong way, as I often did. Nowadays the matter was often used against him but never by him – wasn’t that funny?

“Becoming the spoiled brat’s babysitter,” I filled in kindly, but Hanji’s disapproving frown meant to reproach along with the eloquent gesture of her crossing her arms. I didn’t regret the way I worded it. Eren, Annie, Mikasa and my mother had often tried to make me rethink my ways, but results were yet to manifest. This story, with me as the shitty protagonist most likely to be insufferable contrary to sympathy-inducing, portrayed reality as I saw it – and reality often neglected character development.

“He never called you either, but he did mention taking care of you had the same effect as working, if not better. I felt he might find himself a friend, so I supported him. I think I made the right choice. You have a lot in common,” Hanji declared. It struck a cord – did we really? Our arguments were fire lashing out at ice – not something that happened with people got along. Levi was hard to anger whereas I had a short fuse – everything was a personal insult. No easier target than a conceited paranoid.

“On the topic of that,” I piped. “How do you forget somebody?” The question was light-hearted. I decided to dismiss the whole story so I could ponder it later. Hanji’s brows furrowed as she smiled sympathetically. She couldn’t imagine the situation well enough. The question was I over Eren? had kept at a safe distance from my mind during my birthday vacation and the beginning of August only to assault it now with pitiless ire.

Things kept coming back when I least needed them. Thoughts of the twinkle in his teal eyes or the crooked smile he always wore before a kiss, the sound of his voice – the softness he’d told me he loved me with the first time, the haunting quiver in it when we were breaking up. I woke up at night with the howl of planes taking off and landing. On some mornings, I woke up, hoping to hear a knock at the door and see his face. Would he be more tan? Would his eyes be the same? Would his hair be styled differently? Would he have grown taller?

But, (Y/N), a voice would say in my head, people don’t grow taller just like that, it’s physically impossible.

Eren can, I’d argue, because Eren is my boyfriend and he can do anything if he puts his mind to it.

But Eren wasn’t my boyfriend and he wasn’t a miracle-maker. I’d sit in bed and argue with myself that Eren would come back, that I wanted the best for him and that wasn’t me, that we were done, but that he’d still come back. He never did. A small desperate part of me still hoped for the door to open – any door. Erwin Smith’s apartment’s front door right now, even. I could almost hear his footsteps going up the stairs. I swore I could. I turned to Hanji, a naïve question – can’t you? – flickering in my orbs. She didn’t catch it.

“I’m not an expert,” she said instead. “But Levi can be of help. His coping mechanisms aren’t the best example to follow, but he has a good head on his shoulders. He just doesn’t listen to it.” She might’ve thought, with how desperate I looked, that I might cry. She didn’t know pride would rather have me rip out of my tear ducts before that happened. I didn’t cry often or in many people’s presence. That wasn’t to say I didn’t like Hanji. But Annie and, unfortunately, Levi were the exceptions here. The latter was a mystery, probably my attempt to play a damsel in distress to ask for attention. Attention and help and fucking, might as well – a kiss. Couldn’t he just kiss me sometimes without me having to be in the middle of a mood?

“Yeah, well, I wouldn’t copy those coping mechanisms even if I wanted to. Work, sex and alcohol are never a good mix.” I let out an awkward string of laughter, weirded out by my abrupt disconnection from the conversation and how it turned my thoughts against me. I didn’t miss him that much. Also, he was coming home tomorrow. I had nothing to play the desperate whore for. There was the blondie. That wasn’t jealousy, though. I’d say it was my wish to prove myself better.

“Sex?” Hanji echoed with a conflicted expression.

“Sex with my father’s secretary. I think it was around May. He stormed out after calling her and came back drunk in the middle of the night,” I explained. The brown-haired woman took a second to process the story, then burst out in incredulous laughter. My brows twitched. “What’s so funny?” Was it something else or was I just weird for not thinking my father’s intern and secretary fucking the joke of the century?

“I remember him telling me about that,” she started, voice hinting at a new bout of cackling. “He went to her place for paperwork and she had her boyfriend over. They kept offering him drinks and he agreed to shut them up. Crossed the line at some point. He even got lost on his way back to the house.” I wanted to face-palm using the table and, hopefully, get myself into a coma. Was there a person on this Earth denser than me or was I a phenomenal idiot?

“Oh, God,” I muttered in a wheeze. “I’m so stupid.” Embarrassment and shame painted the tips of my ears bright crimson as I clenched my fists. Hanji patted my shoulder.

“You’re not stupid. I would’ve thought the same if I had no context. Levi would never just have a one-night stand, though. Not the type of person for it. He claims it’s the wrongest way to get over something.” Her brown eyes, previously fixed on me, were now directed at the coffee table. “Might work for you, but he most certainly hates it.” A snort was drawn from her lips as she withdrew her hand from my shoulder. I tried not to think about it, but it was inevitable. Hitch’s party, him refusing, refusing, refusing, because it would be “just like that” and “just like that” was a solution for neither of us.

“I’ll consider it,” I joked. “I was busy up until recently, but maybe university won’t be enough to distract me.” I smiled as Hanji chuckled, patting my back.

“Another boyfriend should do the trick in that case,” she said.

But I don’t want another boyfriend, I wanted to counter. I want your grumpy short friend. The thought froze me up. Asshole-me joined Hanji’s hearty chuckle. Bold of me to think it. Terrible of me to think it. Wrong of me to think it. It was complicated. If romance was not involved here, it was undeniable at this point. I could almost feel it written in capital letters on my forehead.

ATTRACTED TO LEVI ACKERMAN. VERY.

“I’m not ready for the commitment.” Was the only comment to exit my mouth due to the sudden discomfort nestling in the crevice of my ribcage. “I think,” I added awkwardly, reluctant regarding a relationship but very opinionated on the topic of engaging my father’s intern in something inappropriate that would make our relations twice as complicated as they were.

“A friend with benefits then?” Hanji’s mind-reading abilities amazed. I realised it suddenly – that it was natural, this attraction of mine, no matter how humiliating and inconvenient. It wasn’t weird and maybe it wasn’t all that wrong. It was a guy who was three years older than me who lived with me that I considered unreachable. The forbidden fruit, so to say. He was handsome, mysterious and had abs. Natural to be attracted to that. Natural to be attracted to it when I saw it every day and it saw me every day and most times it treated me with passive kindness. So there’d be no harm, I assumed, in initiating something a smidge bigger. What was stopping me? I didn’t have a boyfriend, I wouldn’t feel guilty and I wasn’t insecure because, hey, he’d kissed me last time. Obviously, I wasn’t nasty.

“Update from a virgin to a slut then?” I smirked, a decision born. Hanji’s mouth clamped shut shamefully and I laughed. “I’m kidding, calm down. It was just a joke.” I patted her back. The ring on my finger was cool to the couch and soothing. My resolve, for once, was there. I had a goal. A simple one at that – nothing dangerous. Two words: kiss Levi. I would do it because there was nothing to stop me. I mean, what was the worst that could happen?

…

Imagine an elegant expensive kitchen armed with all kinds of top-quality appliances. Paradise for all little housewives who greet their husbands with a warm meal. I wasn’t that type and the fact I spent four hours cooking more food than a family of six could eat didn’t make me one either. Judging was futile because I took care of that myself during the whole process. Currently, the fruit of my effort sat in front of me – a full three-course meal with different forks to go with the high-class atmosphere. I was far from a successor of Gordon Ramsay, but I outdid myself this time. Why? Last-minute anxiety maybe. Or fear. I needed a distraction because the thought of Eren wouldn’t stop pestering me. Added to that was the fact my father could walk in without Levi. Asshole-me didn’t help.

Bet on the outcome now! A once-in-a-lifetime offer that provides an endless amount of entertainment for the whole family! Fifty bucks says a discount version of William will use the vanishing potion and fly back to France! The other side of the bet? Sorry, I don’t know her. With such a commentator, it was early to skip the food and go straight to consuming my fingernails. Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock. Place your bets right now, your bets need to go in the ballot box, quickly fill out the slips and put them in! Will he go or yes? And what’s the sweat for, princess? Don’t we like watching history repeat itself? I love it. So bet, bet, bet, bet! Come on, faster! If I had a penny for each time your father’s intern left you in the summer, I’d have two pennies. Which isn’t a lot, but it’s hilarious it happened twice!

The jingle of keys pulled the plug on asshole-me’s voice. I’d waited a whole hour now and my head snapped up so fast I heard my neck pop. The front door opened and my heart flinched when my father walked in, dressed in one of those hideous Hawaiian shirts they sold in souvenir shops and flaunting on his nose and cheekbones a really bad case of sunburn. He’d say the sun was harsh in Minnesota. I’d pretend not to hear because believing was impossible. He slipped out of his sandals and I clasped my hands together in excitement.

“Dad, finally! I was starting to think I’d have to reheat everything,” I said. He turned to face the fake exasperation masking the genuine joy I felt at his return. A doubtful smile tugged at the corner of his mouth and my eyes were frantically bouncing from him to the open door. Panic began to well up in my mind. Asshole-me was diligently digging a hole for it, to fit as much as possible.

“A pretty big feast you have there.” Rolland Raven took off the sunglasses he was wearing to eye the food a bit better. I cracked a smile I hoped wouldn’t seem constipated. My thought process was starting to lag due to overload when I heard a faint curse. Next thing, Levi’s pale figure, wearing a ridiculous straw hat. My heart dropped like a stone, plugged the pit of panic and made asshole-me yelp when it nearly crushed her fingers. I felt like stumbling back into my chair and never getting up.

“I guessed you might be hungry after the flight. You don’t have to eat all of it,” I said. It was then a pair of graphite hues shot up to my face. It felt like each muscle in it strained almost to the point of tearing. My father took a seat at the counter while the intern opted to drop off his luggage upstairs and change clothes. I stared after him a second too long while he was climbing the stairs.

“You’ve never waited for me after a business trip before.” (E/c) clashed with (e/c) as my father began picking his food and digging in with more enthusiasm than I’d expected. Levi had mentioned the almightly Raven had complained about the poor quality on the trip compared to what he had at home, but it was still a compliment to witness it manifested.

“I usually have things to do when you’re on business trips, father. This summer I needed a source of entertainment.” I rolled my eyes, letting them scan the interior during the roundabout lie. Lucky enough, they caught the exact moment Levi was leaving his room, tugging down his shirt. A glimpse of fit abdominals. A vague tan line. The food on the counter became a tad bit less appetising.

“Don’t you have Eren Jaeger to help with that?” My father’s question made my attention snap back in place just in time for Levi not to catch me staring. He took a seat at the far end of the counter but I was too preoccupied with a small freak-out fit to dwell on it.

“About that,” I squeaked out with a constipated expression, prompting both men’s attention to turn from half-hearted to wholly undivided. Amazing. I couldn’t have done a better job at it if I’d begun yodelling out of the blue. “Eren broke up with me two months ago.” The key to not sounding like a squeaky toy was to not meet anybody’s gaze. My father was blinking like something had gotten in his eye and Levi’s jaw clenched at the discomfort he was subjected to.

“And I wasn’t notified of that because?” Rolland Raven, among many a quality, was a proud man who, in spite of his profession, could never act quite as predictably as I wished him to. This was no exception because I didn’t have time to open my mouth before he silenced me with a hand in the air. “No, forget I asked. I need to have a serious talk with him. Maybe make him pay back all the dates you’ve handled with interest. We can make a fortune.” The devious plan was voiced in his typical cold-blooded businessman manner. I waved my hands around in discomfort.

“Hold your horses, father. You’re not the one who got dumped. Eren ended the whole thing because he went to study in Germany,” I explained but it wouldn’t satisfy my father, who only glared while putting a fork-full of potatoes in his mouth. Levi tried to become fully invisible. I thought if things got too heated for him, he might make a dash for his room with the dish.

“Unreasonable as can be. If he loved you as much as he had the balls to claim in front of me, he could’ve thought of an alternative that didn’t include breaking your heart. Because of something as insignificant as distance, too.” My father leaned back in his chair with folded arms. He forgot all about food so he could glare at me.

“4898 miles to be exact,” I murmured pitifully. Both men shot me an incredulous look, to which I switched on defence mode. “I did my research. I wasn’t crying the whole time.” Subconsciously copying my father’s position, I reclined in my chair and crossed my arms, glaring like a child prior to giving a sigh and smiling weakly. “I gave it a lot of thought and he did the right thing. So can you be the one to tell mom later?” The last inquiry seemed to surprise him, maybe because it was expected of me to share more with my mother and thus already have her know the super secret information I was handing him.

“I’ll try not to cry as I do.” A nod and a similar weak smile. “You did well not to tell me immediately.” He returned to normal – calculating and sharp, looking for weaknesses and thinking in numbers. Levi’s lack of shock went unnoticed, which I was secretly thankful for. The raven was looking at me playing with the silver band around my finger to soothe my nerves.

“Because you would’ve gone to the airport to kick him to the curb like a good father?” I smirked, a pointed look aimed at the dark-haired businessman, who only snorted in return prior to redirecting his attention back to the food.

“… maybe.” A small pause betraying care, an awkward glance in his intern’s direction conveying mild panic as a result of his feelings showing and a fake clearing of the throat to show discomfiture. He changed the topic immediately. “Have I told you you’ve become a better cook than your mother?” (E/c) clashed with (e/c) and I knew he could see I was holding back laughter by the way the corner of his mouth twitched downwards in displeasure.

“You have now. Congratulations on successfully dodging the topic,” I announced with a complacent grin as he scoffed, ignoring the embarrassment so he could go back to eating. Levi’s gaze was relentless but, once having resolved the current minor conflict, I felt too ashamed to return it. I couldn’t be speaking of Eren, thinking of Levi and acting like a professional whore. It went against my moral code. I wished it was as stable as my pride. Somewhere in my head, asshole-me was drafting an advertisement for the future demise of both.

The following day was unexpectedly laid back in terms of emotions – the process of waking up and going to work was starting to become mechanical. I disliked that I was turning into a nine-to-five zombie, but Melinda’s cross remarks did nothing to hinder my placidity and Adam’s request for a date was, surprisingly, accepted with a pinch of reluctance. It was time for something new, I defended when asshole-me breached the topic of my change of heart. I couldn’t go a whole life without clashing with a man who wasn’t Eren. To forget him, I actually needed to accept that. Because knowing he wouldn’t come back and I didn’t want to get back together was different from realising I couldn’t stay in the comfort zone of being endlessly attached to him and using it as an excuse to never move on.

I felt a smile light up my face the moment I saw Levi in front of the TV with a cup of tea in his hand. Unfortunately, I couldn’t use him to move on – it was the conclusion I drew from the quiet happiness gripping my heart at the sight of him beckoning me over. Everything I’d done had been quite enough. I wouldn’t turn him into a tool as well. So I settled on the couch and we led a half-assed conversation about the movie playing until my parents barged in, beaming and formal. Going for a date at a restaurant – yeah, no, I knew where they were going after. I smiled as we sent them off, and then the ebony-haired intern began choosing the movie we’d be watching and I worked on the snacks downstairs.

Accepted a date, claimed you won’t use him and now you’re pondering the kiss you’ll initiate. You know you’re fucked in the head, correct? Asshole-me piped mockingly, making me huff. I knew I was fucked in the head because she was there. Also, kissing Levi and using Levi were two different things. Different for him how? It’s kissing. It wasn’t. It would be exploring this time – not thinking about being distracted but feeling it for what it was. Jesus, that’s such a weak excuse. I felt she might be face-palming. Seriously, what’s wrong with you? You spent so much time telling your best friend you don’t like him, then you miss Eren, then you “date” Adam, then you grab your friend-zoned intern and decide you’ll be kissing him again – after you established you’re fucking inferior to the blondie who’s clearly hitting on him or clearly intent on doing it too. Can you not follow the timeline?

“Princess, why does Natalie tell me you’ve filled out all the forms related to the company’s income during our vacation?” Levi lowered the phone from his ear. The call had ended a second ago and he was glaring at me doubtfully. I was busy watching the movie – hopefully, excuse enough for scarce to no eye contact. I opened the pack of Doritos I’d dug up from my secret stash in the garage and warily eyed the pale intern’s expression.

“Because the forms were in the office downstairs and I figured they’d get in the way of our movie marathon, asshole. I haven’t messed them up.” My scoff was promptly returned to sender as Levi shoved his phone back in his pocket and clicked his tongue in exasperation. Another three minutes passed before I spoke up: “By the way, I need advice.” The room was dimly lit and the raven’s sharp gaze was on my temple.

“Will you have it in mind when you get back on your bullshit?” The inquiry was flat and doubtful. I tried to nod but it came out looking like a cringe and a shrug. His lips pursed in exhaustion. “Spill,” he ordered coldly, making me pout.

“How do I forget Eren?” Squeaky was the best I could do after becoming tense again. Nervousness was gnawing at the feeble stem of courage I’d managed to grow and my hopes for this to go as smoothly as a chat about the weather were stuck in an elevator on the top floor of a skyscraper. Even overthinking was useless here.

“Easy,” he said. Again, there was that breach of grammar. “Find somebody new. Judging by how much you’re smiling these days, you might as well be done with that.” The suspicious mockery made me snort.

“Don’t you think I might be happy to have you and dad back home?” I asked pointedly.

“No,” he countered with a defiant click of his tongue. What he said next sounded like an extract from a Jorge Bucay book. Something about self-love maybe. “Before you get with Rivers, however, you have to accept that Jaeger is now your ex. He’s part of the past and the past doesn’t hold power over the future if you don’t let it.” I bit back laughter to not offend him.

“Such a poet you are,” I huffed half-heartedly. “And how do I stop loving him?” Seriousness stood perched on my right shoulder, but the Doritos between us kept decreasing and I felt the soothing coolness of the ring on my finger. Our gazes locked and I stared, just because I could, because he was back, because he acted normally. And why wouldn’t he? Our circumstances surely weren’t enough to alter his demeanour.

“You don’t. You never will and you should get used to it.” His answer cut deep and I realised it might’ve confused me but I was too captivated by his eyes to process it. He forced himself to explain: “We never stop loving somebody once we’ve fallen for them. We just fall harder for another person.” It was as romantic as it was businessman-like. A bit too… systematic somehow.

Line up, line up! Asshole-me encouraged. I imagined a big queue in front of an entrance door with a sign bearing my name above it. Number 12, pass through, but beware – number 10 wasn’t careful with his words and number 11 made no effort to change that! The asshole side of me clearly fancied the idea. For all waiting, the Eren Jaeger mural is on the left and the guy on the right is the one you’ll never be! Keep trying but keep this face in mind – Levi Ackerman is hiding in a lot of the corners you’ll visit! He’s an invaluable guest at this establishment! Oh! Is it time for the next one already? Hurry up, number 13! Don’t hold up the queue, who knows how much capacity we have left. And so on until the last victim had walked in. It made my nose scrunch up.

“Does that mean you still haven’t gotten over Petra?” I piped curiously, bright eyes observing closely the intern’s reaction. The movie was no longer as interesting. Everything I could focus on was the furrow between Levi’s brows and the flat unperturbed look in his eyes. He grabbed a Dorito from the pack. I moved my hand away just in time to avoid a clash.

“It means I haven’t fallen in love with the next in line,” he said, reinforcing the notion of a queue. “I’m used to the fact she’d dead. Filling out every report in the world won’t bring her back,” he paused briefly and gulped, “so I go on with my life.” The explanation was simple but relatively quiet, like he was trying to say the words while not exactly aiming to have me hear them. His gaze was staring at the screen ahead as I looked down, trying to come up with a good one-liner to put him out of his discomfort.

“I feel like we’re becoming pensive,” I started with a lopsided smirk, “so let me pull a Reverse Uno card on this mood by saying I’ve reached a milestone in my life.” Licking the Dorito dust off my fingers, I puffed out my chest proudly, making the intern put a hand to his mouth. Maybe he’d bitten back a smile behind it. “I won’t get fined for driving without supervision now. Not to mention, I can have sex.” Waving an index finger in front of his face, I didn’t react when he grabbed it without warning.

“I don’t see what stopped you before,” he stated nonchalantly. I shrugged, concluding I hadn’t exactly shared with him details about my childish vow.

“There was this really religious teacher at school when I was ten – she scarred all her classes by giving them unsolicited Sex Education lectures mixed with Bible verse. Got fired because children complained to their parents, but she did a good one on me before that,” I explained with a smile, yanking my finger from his hold. “Since sex was for sinners – both began with the letter s, she explained to us – and I didn’t want to be a sinner because it meant… well, a bad person, I told myself I’d have sex only after turning eighteen, regardless of the temptation. So I held out. Proud of myself for that.” My complacent smile made him snort. He might’ve glanced at my lips right after.

“I’m sure there’s been a lot of temptation for you, princess,” he drawled in a deep sarcastic voice, moving the empty bag of Doritos away before wiping his fingers with as I processed the retort. I sat still, pouting for a fraction of a second, when it hit me this was my chance. The signal was there – shining in bright green, if I wasn’t color-blind – and it was time for me to grasp the opportunity.

“More than you can imagine, asshole,” I said with a scoff, not parting my eyes from his profile to observe his reaction. We cast aside the fact he could’ve poked fun at me being the furthest thing from a believer, yet such a big aspect of my life had been altered by a religious teacher. The tip of his nose twitched when he snorted in dismissal, not daring to meet my eye all of a sudden.

“The mood has been brightened. What do we do now?” He turned to face me, curious but hesitant, and I felt a surge of courage at the sight of the indecisiveness dawdling about in his grey eyes. The blue specks were calling me – count us, (Y/N), count us – and I concluded this would be the one time I initiated anything between us. It was stressful and scary, but it was Levi, so want overpowered fear, resulting in something we’d have a hard time sorting out our feelings on.

“Watch the movie you so diligently picked for us maybe?” But actions contradicted words because I was leaning in and he could see it. For two whole seconds, there was no movement on his end. Panic was about to make me pull back, pin it to something else, anything else, when his hand lifted, slender fingers gently tucking my hair behind my ear. This was it. It would happen. I was exploring what it’d be like without the guilt of purposefully seeking distraction.

It was slow – the first kiss – his lips barely landing on top of mine so we could taste the water even when we knew it was lukewarm. The movie was like white noise – I could catch fragments of dialogue and the screen illuminated Levi’s profile the few times my lids fluttered open. His hold on the side of my face was gentle, granting permission for me to pull back at any point. I didn’t know what he was thinking. I knew I was barely thinking and it felt nice, for my head to be so blissfully empty. It was all sensations and when he dragged his tongue over my bottom lip, my mouth opened to allow access for further exploration. The kiss deepened and I tried to push closer into him.

“Get on top,” he muttered into my mouth. His right hand dipped to grab my leg. I might’ve flushed bright red, but I still complied, slowly straddling him and letting his hands guide me to where he found it most comfortable. I was terribly aware of what I sat on. It might’ve been terribly aware of me, too.

It was slow and fast at the same time. We weren’t breaking the kiss but some moments of it – like his hand brushing my side and making me cover in goosebumps – were fleeting like blinks while others – like the weird scorching thing in my whole torso – felt endless. It was indescribable to a point, the heat of the moment but the moment was long and the pace was changing slightly the more it went on. It hadn’t been him either. It was him responding to me, because I couldn’t for the life not hold him tightly and subconsciously look for more. We were glued together and his fingers had tentatively pushed up my shirt at the back so they could trail up and down the curve of my spine.

My head was tilted, fingers tangled in his hair and heavy huffs escaping my nostrils. He smelled like lavender and rain and cologne, and my fucking conditioner I’d told him a thousand times to stop using because it was expensive. I didn’t bother scolding him about it now. My desperate want turned the kisses hungrier and there was this point – I might’ve wiggled slightly to find an even closer spot – but he stiffened and grabbed the back of my head, growing twice as persistent and passionate. Weird, using that word about him. It hit me the forbidden part of male anatomy I was seated on top of had risen to attention. It made me wonder if it had happened before and that, in turn, was simultaneously embarrassing and flattering. He was attracted to me, too. Duh. We were literally making out on my bed.

When more began translating as more of everything instead of more of this particular thing, he seemed to sense the shift. His hands guided me off his lap and back on the bed. My head was resting against the pillow and my head was empty, lids fluttering open to drink the sight of him the first time he broke the kiss – pale but handsome, tired but caring, bored but clearly moved by the happening. It was a miracle. I’d been begging for this statue to show me anything in the beginning of his internship. I hadn’t known it could show me this – it looked like a godsend. My heart was going a hundred miles per hour, my breath was unsteady and my body felt hot all over.

It didn’t matter where he kissed – my lips, my neck, my chest, my shoulders – I just wanted him to keep kissing me. Temptation had seldom been this strong and the vow was no longer active, it was fulfilled – an electrifying realisation. I didn’t need to have him stop. What my sinner’s hands did the moment that resolution snapped in place was to grab the hem of his shirt and, with pointed urgent eyes, plead with him to take it off. He hesitated for exactly one second, then complied, like he’d complied with everything else without having me say it. He was kneeling between my legs, arms going over his head so the piece of clothing could be discarded. His chest and abdomen flexed, the biceps, the triceps, all the other names of muscles I’d had to read about but hadn’t memorised. Adonis in the flesh. Fuck me for drooling. Oh.

If I could paint, I’d paint him. If I could sing, I’d write a song. If I had a taser, I’d tase myself out of being so cringe-worthy in admiring the body of a man. But when that body pressed against mine, everything became a bit too hot – literally and metaphorically – so I decided the next step was to cool down by taking off my own clothes. First the shirt, then the pants he helped out with. I almost laughed when they tangled at my ankles and he had to tug them off with an irritated frown. Here it was, having my father’s intern see my bra again. This time I didn’t mind.

“Frills? Seriously?” Well, now I minded.

“Do we have an issue?” I snapped with a pointed look. It didn’t help he was towering over me, sizing up my underwear with eyes that spoke simultaneously of him being amused and him being something else. I wondered if he was still hard. I hadn’t touched there once.

“It’s almost cute,” he mocked flatly. He didn’t reach to take it off – he just leaned down to mollify me with a kiss. It worked. I was carried off into wanting more again. The weight of him on top of me grounded the body and made the soul soar. It was a cringe comparison but whatever, it was true. I realised, right about the time I tugged on the waistband of his sweatpants and his brows flashed in unrestrained surprise, that I was an eighteen-year-old doing exactly what was expected of every single eighteen-year-old on the planet – sneaking a boy into my room while my parents were out.

This here was a boy I trusted and a boy I was halfway convinced was more of a man than a boy, mostly when it came to observing how he casually sat up and removed his sweatpants with precision contrary to clumsiness. My eyes flickered down to his boxers. Still hard alright. There was a rush of excitement and shame all at once when I realised it. A bit too late to stop and pin this a mere heat-of-the-momet make-out session. It was the real deal. Happening. Live. In my room. On a late August evening. Goodness gracious.

It took me a second to process it and he might’ve sensed that I’d grown a bit rigid despite remaining just as active. He didn’t advance the happening, petting my hair and kissing me, and trailing lower, but only as low as he’d gone before, finding the rest a sort of forbidden land. Didn’t even take off the bra with the frills he mocked me for. What a gentleman. He was kissing the curve of my breast and I was wondering how in the fucking hell I’d deserved this.

“We don’t have to,” he warned at some point. “If you don’t want to. Saying no is allowed.” He kissed me and it was intoxicating, but also the last snapped nerve. I arched my back off the bed, elbows bending so my hands could reach for my bra clip. The shoulder straps went loose and Levi paused for a moment to process what the act meant.

“I won’t say it,” I muttered with determination, eyes locked with his. Pride was strong within me even now and, having the wordless consent, he gently took off the bra before paying some attention to newfound territory. It was like being examined in a lab. Again, my boobs weren’t perfect. It was genetics and fate, and whatever else. In being embarrassed about him staring at my chest, I was graced by the thought I hadn’t shaved anywhere. Double embarrassed. Wasn’t it only right that the first time would come with presentability? There go the Raven teachings.

And the word nipple is somewhat lame – I’ve heard it from native and non-native speakers of English both – but there is no other word. So when his tongue rolled around my nipple, I forgot I hadn’t shaved and drew such a sharp breath I almost choked. My chest was heaving and he was thumbing my other nipple. I thought we’d get straight to it and was mistaken. He knew better, it seemed, because a virgin needed the bare minimum of this much and more foreplay to truly relax. It hit me for a fraction that this was actual foreplay while I was staring at the ceiling between trying not to make any sounds. I was like a dead fish, just letting him do things to me. More responsive than a dead fish but awfully inexperienced in any case. It made me feel just a bit guilty. My one saving grace was the fact his erection kept brushing against my leg – and if that was there, then it meant he wasn’t dissatisfied.

It was a black spot for a while because I couldn’t pinpoint between the overwhelming build-up of nice but not nice enough where exactly Levi was kissing or sucking or nipping or touching. Now it would be my thigh, now leaving a hickey on my shoulder, now trailing kisses over my jaw and down my neck, now caressing my side, now trailing a finger down to my navel, now my boob, intermission, the other boob – and the whole time there was that thing in my abdomen, the same one I’d felt with Eren, the hot knot begging for attention.

This was a new person and I hadn’t thought it’d come with a new person, but it was there alongside a brand new dynamic which wasn’t hurried or harsh or overtly passionate like I’d been used to. The pace was decent and steady and passion here didn’t amount to bruises – or at least not explicitly so. The new person made it thrilling, overwhelming. The new person made it a brand new experience. And when the brand new person’s hand gently dipped to touch the part where my legs met, I shivered all over, heart and lady boner flinching at once. Levi, with his obstinacy, refused to ask permission vocally. I still nodded, spreading my legs a bit wider. Slowly, like my panties weren’t in the way, he kissed from my knee to the base of my inner thigh, nipped slightly and made me yelp, and muffled something like a chuckle against the plush of my leg.

I didn’t know what he was thinking. I knew his fingers pressing against the spot where wetness had accumulated made my mouth gape slightly. I craned my neck and closed my eyes. There was embarrassment holding hands with excitement, with pleasure breathing down their necks. Nothing quite mattered. I breathed out like I’d been holding my breath for fourteen minutes when the raven’s fingers gently dragged back and forth against my core and then he might’ve been impatient, because he tugged my underwear out of the way, down my legs, past the knees and the ankles, dropping it with the rest of our clothes and the empty Dorito bag on the floor. It was a whole mess, this thing. I wanted it.

“The house is empty, princess,” he said while leaning down to kiss below my navel.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked, almost out of breath in spite of my lungs functioning perfectly. His fingers were ghosting on the side of where I wanted him to touch. His mouth dragged lower. There was the jab of shame about not being shaved again. It hadn’t sent him to his feet and out of the room, so it was probably fine. A man wasn’t afraid to fight the jungle, I’d heard a few times before.

“That you can make noise without being scared,” he responded casually. I snorted and decided inwardly that I wouldn’t be making any noise whatsoever, just to spite him. It did feel good, though, so I doubted I could actually hold back effectively. As though to challenge the unsaid decision, Levi cut the suspense short. When his tongue rested where only one other had before, I came close to whining. My hand shot down to paw at his hair and he hummed against my clit. The vibrations of it made me writhe slightly.

He licked and sucked – nipped twice, which made me yelp both times – and did all sorts of other magic. Added to the title of mind-reader would now be the rank of mage. Then, there was this point when I could feel his fingers prodding at my entrance – a gentle warning of what was to come. First it was one. My mouth gaped and there was a slight flash of something like pain. More like discomfort. Now this was brand new wherever I looked at it from. Remember, my vow had its doors but none had included penetration. Officially the furthest I’d gone with somebody. Goodbye, hymen. You served us well.

He waited. Waited almost a full minute and distracted me with his tongue before I rolled my hips to give him the green light. Slow pumps. It was still uncomfortable, but the friction wasn’t painful. Just uncomfortable and new and I didn’t like change, but when this one found with its finger one particular spot sold off as the Bermuda Triangle for men to find, I might’ve liked this particular change. First, it made me moan. Second, the more he kept reaching that spot – because it was impossible to miss I liked it – the closer I was to coming. There were sloppy sounds and a second finger inserting itself in me, and my voice bouncing off the walls before dropping to the floor in a hush.

I might’ve said his name, actually, I might’ve half-screamed it. The orgasm hit me like a brick dropping straight on my genitals and he kept flicking his tongue slower and slower until I’d ridden it out in full. How considerate. When his fingers came out, there was a spot of blood. My mouth clamped shut in shame. He reached over to clean them with a wet wipe – then he cleaned me, too, because obviously he could see things that were invisible to me. There was slick on his chin and I glared half-heartedly when his eyes twinkled in amusement at me.

“Well, that’s done,” I muttered while he leaned over with the intention to kiss me again. “Wipe your mouth, asshole.” I put a hand to his chest to prevent my own pussy juices from coming in contact with my face. For a clean-freak, he sure didn’t seem to be in a hurry to get them off.

“You don’t want to see how tasty it is?” He was mocking me. I was red and hot all over still, a bit like a deflated balloon being refilled with exasperation contrary to air. No longer a virgin, as far as doctors would care. Still kind of in the middle, considering typical hetero interactions included something more than fingers.

“God, no!” I tried to push at his jaw and he almost chuckled when the pussy juice got on my fingers and I flicked my wrist frantically to get it off.

“It was god, yes a second ago,” he drawled pointedly. I burned bright red under his gaze, naked and not a hymen-bearer and kind of lost as to what came next. I pouted, swatted his shoulder and pretended to be very disgusted when he kissed me, making it open-mouted and sloppy for the sake of spiting me. In truth, it didn’t taste like much. Tasted weird, unlike food and drink. Well, that’s bodily fluids for you.

Remember the right-est choice I made as of late? Here it comes. The kiss guided his fingers down to my clit again and mine – to the band of his boxers. A tug and a snap, and he asked me three whole fucking times if I was sure. Not verbally, of course. It was just the particular way he stopped between each step to make sure, to look at me straight in the eye and have me nod my consent back to him. Like I’d change my mind that fast. God’s sake – if I would’ve said no, I would’ve said it before we’d kissed. But this wasn’t something he would do under normal circumstances – not a matter of alcohol, guilt or duty. It was free will and choice. Mine might’ve been made sometime last month, right around my birthday.

The boxers were gone. I blinked at it. A penis in textbooks, a dick in colloquial speech, a cock in smut books, a member in tame erotica. Length, girth, meat sword, love machine – could go on forever. We sat staring at it like it was an alien and while I was bashful, I was also bad with measurements without the aid of a ruler, hence why I safely concluded that I could stack about four donuts on it and put the zipper on it. There was that thing – precum, was it? – leaking from the tip. In all honesty, no I didn’t want to lick it off. Same went for sperm. In the history of mankind, I’d done the gracious thing and sucked off my boyfriend exactly once – the rest had been handjobs because blowjobs came with terrible pains in the jaw, a cramping of the tongue, a crap salty taste and the awkward detail of looking like an unattractive fish during the act. So, no, I didn’t volunteer to show off how bad I was at it.

“Condoms, shit.” It flew out of my mouth unintentionally. Levi’s face scrunched up. We were both visited by the bitter realisation that going further was not an option anymore, unless he wanted to don on a sock. Then the solution came to me. “Keep it up, I’ll be back in a minute,” I mumbled hurriedly, jumping off the bed and rushing butt-naked out of the room so I could go to my parents’ bedroom. Yeah, no, such was the reality of things. I tried to keep my conscience untainted while rummaging through the wardrobe. The hidden box of condoms in the back by the shoes was the saving grace. I wouldn’t speak of this to a living soul that wasn’t Annie Leonheardt ever.

The moment I returned to the room with the box held proudly over my head, Levi snorted. He laid me on the bed again and the mood returned, which was weird because I’d pinned him the type of experience one moment of interruption and consider it all ruined. Not that I’d thought about him during sex or having sex. I hadn’t. I promise. I was thinking it now, when I was about to have it with him. The kisses eased the natural awkwardness and by the time he was putting it in, I was a desperate mess again. Sweat stuck to skin and my breath got stuck in my throat when he pushed it in. I blanked, gaped like I’d received a headshot and felt him stand still to let me adjust. There was, again, mild discomfort. Fingers couldn’t compare to a dick.

I gave it half a minute and told him to move. The first thrust had me whining into his mouth. It was good. It was good, progressively becoming better and better and better, a surprise arriving with each snap of his hips. My father’s intern having sex with me, my father’s intern, my father’s intern, my intern, my Levi. The first five minutes were full of careful slow strokes to let the awkwardness dissipate and for me to get used to it. I won’t call myself anything but I’ll say I got used to it a bit too fast for comfort. So it went. Losing my virginity to my father’s intern.

“Faster, can you--- a bit faster?” The words were choked out and you’d wonder why I would ask for faster when slow was doing a good job of making my chest heave like I was running a marathon, but it was maddening and addictive.

“I can for you, princess.” It was a rasp against the side of my neck and I was blanking because the voice, paired with the hands, with the scent, with the sensation of being full and empty, then full and empty again was so mind-numbing I could melt on the spot and stay there forever. So slow and careful turned into fast and considerate. There was no harshness in him even when he kneaded my boobs or licked stripes down the length of my throat, no harshness whatsoever when he gripped my thighs or my sides. It was tight, but pleasant, egging me on further.

I bit down on the pillow when he found the spot. I bit his finger, too. I bit his shoulder and I bit my own hand to keep my voice down because how was something on this Earth allowed to be so nice? Fuck. He murmured at me to moan if I felt like it. There was a smug undertone. And when he reached between us to roll circles around my clit, I didn’t moan – I was a banshee impersonator, neck craning, back arching, toes curling, all that jazz. I came with a crash and a bang, and it might’ve been an hour by now, or maybe more, but the neighbourhood was asleep and I was wide awake, trying to wake them up, too.

A five-minute break of kisses served as an intermission to avoid me becoming overstimulated but Levi was still hard and still quite energetic in spite of the fact he’d been fucking me for an overall of thirty minutes without stopping or having his pace hitch. Round two started fast and I had my legs up, knees on the sides of my head. It was hot, seeing him through that kind of frame. Just one bead of sweat on his temple – not sticky all over, unlike me. Why was I the one becoming exhausted anyway? I was being a pillow princess. His eyes were gorgeous and his lips were slightly swollen.

“Please, don’t stop,” I whined at some point. He didn’t seem to have any prospects of stopping anyway, but I couldn’t help it. He huffed, chest heaving with lust and I knew it wasn’t easy to be the one doing all the work, so I mentally gave credit where credit was due. “Oh--- Levi, God!” He seemed like he wanted to laugh and my ring glimmered in the dark against his cheek while I tried to pull him down for a kiss which was simply impossible in our current position. He switched it five minutes later. It was not an understatement to claim I was seeing stars and everything was nice and nothing was awkward and this was the most handsome man with the most stamina on this land.

I lost my voice at some point, or I thought I did because my third orgasm couldn’t make me bite down on the pillow fast enough to muffle the literal holler that left my lungs. His name, by the way. If that hadn’t woken the neighbours, I wasn’t sure anything would. I was recuperating and he was trailing gentle pecks along my neck, still not finished. Was sex always this physically draining? My mind might’ve blanked during the third round and we were in missionary again because I insisted that I be able to kiss him any time I wished to. His hand was holding my wrist captive and the other was massaging my breast and it was all a giant whirlpool of pleasure and heat and fluids – the nasty and the nice in one, but I couldn’t care less about the nasty.

He came with a growl, biting down on my shoulder to muffle something that sounded like my name as his pace hitched and turned sloppy for the first time in what felt like hours. He slumped down on top of me and I was breathing more heavily than him, calmed by the weight. I was blinking at the ceiling and my heart was doing somersaults in my ribcage. He went to shower after a minute of rest, I called him out for being a clean freak and it just so happened that my perception of time wasn’t all too warped because checking my phone made me realise we’d had sex for about three hours, foreplay included. I slipped into the shirt he’d tossed on the floor, wiped myself and very considerately ignored the soreness in my hips while changing the sheets.

To my biggest surprise, he returned to my room in a new pair of boxers with his hair wet. There was no invitation. He joined me on the clean bed and wrapped his arms around me. This might’ve been aftercare. When our gazes locked, I didn’t dare avert my eyes in bashfulness. It was surreal and I wanted to memorise it. Then he asked me again – as voicelessly as the first time and the following ten – and I answered positively by flashing him the biggest smile I could muster. No words were exchanged. Levi rolled his eyes and I tucked myself under his chin, legs tangling with his. I was knocked out cold. I wouldn’t hasten to write this off as a happy ending but I wouldn’t immediately turn it angsty either. I explored. It was nice. I don’t think I regretted it for a second.

Waking up was a surreal experience because it included the added luxury of being bathed in sunlight with a warm arm draped around my midriff and a pale sunlit face inches from mine. A spot of purple in the crook of his neck and a few red crescents on his shoulder. Perhaps one or two leftover scratches on his back. I blinked at the sight incredulously, gradually coming to and realising what this position meant – prompted by last night’s three different ones, too.

It happened! Asshole-me hollered in my head, nearly hysteric, slamming a pan into a bell and making the echo of the toll ring painfully against the confines of my skull. You ruined it all! It was like an automatic switch – suddenly, the neutral was the bad and I had complicated it with my impulsiveness, my stupid hormones. I imagined four months of awkwardness and the wish to have more but being completely incapable of asking for fear it would mean feelings. I pictured a tense atmosphere, uncomfortable interactions, embarrassing thoughts, lame excuses. A friendship built with struggle and just barely reinforced annihilated to smithereens by my dumb ass.

I cringed, removing my hand from Levi’s chest to slap myself across the face for being horrible again – not in using him but in indulging my own selfishness. His eyelids fluttered open before the admonishment transpired and I was staring straight into the melted silver which had the tendency to read my thoughts. The current self-reprimanding cacophony would entertain him.

“… should make you coffee,” he mumbled half-coherently, making me blink wondrously at his hazy composure. This is normal, his eyes whispered, lips pressing nonchalantly to my forehead before he got up, so there’s no need to be so shocked. The trip down the stairs was silent. I had left scratches. More than two.

Currently, we were in the kitchen, sitting around the counter with our mandatory morning drinks. Unsaid words hung from the ceiling like dangling cobwebs. Levi, who’d needed a moment to retrieve his memories in full, was stiff and uncertain, and in spite of that visibly calmer than me. I could feel my face heating up as I thought of what to say. This wasn’t normal, even if both of us upon our respective awakening had pinned it such. It was something we had to discuss but how were we supposed to discuss sex when we sometimes fought over food? Deciding what to do seemed impossible.

“Are we going to talk about the elephant in the room?” The raven, of course, was the one who broke the silence while I was slurping on my coffee, gaze averted and heart beating erratically. “Princess, I’m afraid this is something important,” he said in the face of my silence. His piercing glare was on my temple but I wouldn’t turn, keeping my fingers glued to my cup and my mind grounded in panic. “Need I remind you exactly what happened?” Levi pressed additionally, husky voice raising in audible urgency. I felt completely and utterly naked – dressed in only his shirt and my own underwear.

“We had sex, that’s what happened.” I shrugged, mind preoccupied with the strange feeling eating its way into it. Deep into my stomach, up to my lungs, through the chambers of the heart, in the windpipe – but not painfully. “There’s nothing more to it.” The nonchalant statement didn’t get a warm welcome. That much was to be expected. The attractive intern was frowning, rubbing his temples with a frustrated sigh. I tried not to look at his fingers.

And I’m trying to do just that, asshole-me scoffed pointedly. There’s something different about them when they’ve been inside you last night, yeah? A good type of different. Imagine it. My shoulders tensed as I chased her around in my head with a frying pan. Levi ran a hand through his ebony locks. Wow, is that the sex hair? And I pursed my lips in displeasure, knowing the struggles of the current moment and choosing in spite of them to secretly a wish for a second time. No harm, you know, no harm whatsoever in wanting to fuck your father’s goddamn intern, yeah? No? Can you hear it? Does it sound like a good sentence? Does it?

“Where exactly does your lacking virginity fit into your nothing more to it?” His retort made me cringe, well aware of the virginity ace hidden up his imaginary sleeve. It was a bit harder to argue with him when he was half-naked, letting me see the spots I’d bitten and kissed. The situation: we’d had sex. My side: I had nothing against him being my first because I trusted him and he’d been experienced and careful enough to make it nice. The actual problem: he was my father’s intern.

The abstract part: intimacy often came with, well… intimacy. Casual sex had the advantage of not seeing your partner again afterwards and in our case, we’d had casual sex with somebody we saw daily. Future speculation: tension due to this adventure would brew either discord or twice the ferocity in repeating the adventure. A possible solution: talking about feelings. Additional issue: Levi and I talking about feelings? Not in this day and age. Not in this life either. Telling him he made me feel warm and appreciated? Impossible. Honesty in the face of something embarrassing? Sorry, I don’t know her. She must be really lame.

“Everywhere, because I don’t care for it. It might add complexity to your situation, but it doesn’t play a big role in mine.” Dismissing the whole of it and pinning it on him was wrong. My nonchalance was false. Maybe it was what made him take a deep breath prior to speaking up again, his tea untouched.

“You’re supposed to be freaking out, princess.” His eyes were on mine and asshole-me was screaming: Come on, do it! Just kiss him and make things worse! Go right ahead! I averted my gaze with a snort. He’d used my nickname last night. Added a shade of meaning to it. I tried to get a grip as my rational side reasoned with the situation. This had been a one-time thing – or at least for him. Following that train of thought, wanting more was useless.

“You think I’m not?” It was high-pitched and ludicrous. Memories were surfacing and it was somewhat unpleasant to think they wouldn’t repeat. Levi kissing me in the dark, almost saying my name, clearing the hair from my sweaty forehead, biting my neck as he came, smiling against my lips as I tugged on his hair and tried not to moan, holding me close afterwards, not once saying the wrong thing. “I’m freaking out. You just don’t see it.” My downcast gaze was thoughtful and the air was becoming heavier with something I couldn’t identify. I could feel him staring and it bugged me not to know what he was thinking. “What?” I snapped, refraining from playing with my ring.

“What do you want to do now?” He asked flatly, eyes pinning me in place. “Do you want me to pretend this didn’t happen or do you want us to keep going?” It was ridiculous hearing him say it because, usually, he wouldn’t. I blinked, thinking I’d misheard.

“Keep going as in keep having sex?” I echoed to make sure I’d understood. It might’ve gone out a bit more shocked than expected, which made him sigh.

“I was listing options. In the end, it all comes down to what you want.” The flat voice made me realise I knew what I wanted well enough to have chosen during the conversation with Hanji three days ago or maybe even before I’d had the courage to admit it to myself.

“I don’t know what I want,” I lied with a pointed look, vehement embarrassment clawing up my throat and scratching at the back of it. I could say I wanted to keep going – his offer meant he might be willing – but his response was a fifty-fifty on whether he was sexually frustrated or would rather stick to decorum while living in the same house as the girl he was fucking and her father. I couldn’t turn the question on him because it was mean. I couldn’t call it a mistake because that would be another lie. I was tired of lying when it didn’t go to protect my pride.

“You don’t?” He quirked a thin brow mockingly, feigning the surprise he didn’t feel. “Or you just don’t want to admit your favour the more embarrassing option?” I sat motionless, knowing this wasn’t what I should’ve been doing – considering it. Maybe this was a test he had for me – to see if I’d be dumb or act like a reasonable adult. But (there came that stupid word again) if Hanji had been right, this wasn’t a random hook-up, which meant there might be something and---

Are you seriously considering a relationship with somebody who’s leaving in less than four months? Asshole-me interjected, making me sigh in defeat. Doesn’t fuck randomly, okay, fine, but this is an exception. How in the fucking hell would he grow to like you? You know that’s impossible. Methinks he went along with it because you clearly wanted it. Think about it, he does all sorts of bullshit for you. So what sounds more plausible? Him being himself or him liking you? The former, of course, but I couldn’t admit it. Like I couldn’t admit he was right to say I favoured the more embarrassing option.

“Even if it was like that,” I chose to return the favour and be doubtful, “I’m not inclined to think your morals would let you humour me.” My chin was tipped upwards while Levi shook his head and finally took a sip from his tea. The ghost of a smirk in the corner of his mouth disarmed.

“I have little to nothing against it. But,” (that fucking word again) the firmness of his voice was the only thing keeping my chest from swelling, “it doesn’t sound like an ideal course of action when you’ve almost got yourself a new boyfriend,” he reasoned calmly, somber responsibility lacing his tone.

“It’s not cheating if we’re not official,” I protested instantly, furrowed brows and a pout. He snorted.

“That’s not what I meant, princess.” My lips pursed at the jolt the nickname gave me. “I don’t want sex clouding your judgement. I get Rivers isn’t your boyfriend, but you shouldn’t exclude him as a possibility just because you’ve started thinking you have feelings for me.”

“Besides being a poet, you’ve turned into a psychologist, too,” I exclaimed with a genuinely cheerful chuckle that made him quirk a brow. Something in my throat shrivelled up. “Don’t dwell on my feelings too much, asshole,” I reassured. “I like this because it’s something new, not because I’m head over heels in love with you.” I was still chuckling as he sipped on his tea and fixed me with one of those firm looks that had the ability to bend the knees. The effect was doubled in intensity this morning.

“Make your choice then,” he said boredly, not wishing to be too imperious, seeing as the situation wasn’t taking place in a formal setting where he was the boss and I was the indecisive underling. I might as well have been, with how hot my ears got while I held his gaze, brave and stupid in the face of somebody who read me better than I sometimes read myself.

“I’m not saying it out loud,” I muttered, bashful. The ebony-haired intern watched me struggle before tilting his head to the side with a fake air of oblivion.

“Then I won’t know what you want,” he said innocently, attempting to mock my shyness and what was more – succeeding. I burned bright red, feeling heat creep up my neck and my glare was pointed and uncontrolled. It couldn’t pass as mere annoyance because Levi was hitting a nerve.

“I didn’t see you having a hard time knowing everything I wanted last night, but okay.” There was more spite than sass in the sentence, which only further conveyed my inability to stay nonchalant – something that clearly amused him. “I want us to… keep going. Satisfied?” Crossed arms, downcast gaze and a childish pout. I was the live embodiment of the word petulance and Levi wasn’t done having fun with it.

“Not as satisfied as I clearly left you.” He was smirking and I glared at him, furious and not knowing where the blood would go when there was no space left in my head. I hopped off my chair, turning my back to him and hearing how he moved to stand behind me. A well-meaning hand landed on my shoulder. “It was a joke, princess, there’s no need for the cold shoulder.” His tone was flat and disinterested, but there was a pacifying sliver. He might’ve been trying to make peace but I wouldn’t have it after all the embarrassment he put me through – just to have a good private laugh, too!

“Un-fucking-bearable, that’s what you are,” I hissed, brushing his hand off my shoulder and heading to the staircase in order to escape. He gave chase and set on ignoring the usual code that forbade touchy-touchy when unneeded. The pure and unfiltered imagination one must have in order to picture a shirtless Greek God chasing after a poorly dressed eighteen-year-old spoiled brat was too ambitious a requirement for anybody to fulfil. Turn to mythology for that, but it’s inappropriate there and this one meant well.

“I’ll stop embarrassing you if that’s what you want.” His hands were on my shoulders. He turned me around and I didn’t look at him, much less respond. He could sense I was ashamed. His hands slowly trailed down over my arms to hold my wrists in a grip I could, with effort, free myself from. “Does the mere mention of sex with no context whatsoever embarrass you, princess?” He knew it did, leaning forward with twinkling eyes and a complacent half-smile. “Your face is red.”

“And you’re a fucking genius, congratulations,” I spat with sarcastic disgruntlement. He pulled me forward so that I bumped into his chest. My shoulders jumped in surprise. I didn’t want to look him in the eye but the sight of the marks I’d left on him were no less embarrassing to behold. My heart sped up and I was pouting, flush against him with nowhere to go.

“It speaks,” he whispered by my ear. His hands retraced their steps over my arms and shoulders, gently gliding against the sides of my neck until they held my face. “Does it want to go up to my room?” Blue specks in a pool of melted silver. The question was genuine, in spite of being masked with slight mockery. The adult of us two. I tried to stay mad, but it was impossible. I promised the blue specks I’d count them later and then we were kissing. It was a funny picture – the whole of this situation – ridiculous but somehow not fictional. It was him lifting me off the floor and me wrapping my legs around him. It was him making step after step, steady and careful not to drop me while I snickered into his mouth. It was me being a literal koala and then it was us, hearing the jingle of keys.

“Shit,” I cursed, parting from him with a smack. He let go and I could catch only a glimpse of the panic on his face before I was running up the stairs. I’d barely closed the door behind us when I heard my mother greeting the empty kitchen downstairs. While I breathed out in relief, Levi was already heading to the balcony. It occurred to me that there was a pack of condoms on my nightstand and they were stolen. I’d need to make a trip to the pharmacy and replace the box. Talk about inconvenient. “Careful now,” I piped while the intern was preparing to make the jump, “we don’t want you to fall.” He gave me a half-hearted glare but said nothing.

When he was gone, I plopped down on my bed and grinned incredulously at the ceiling. This “secret sex” thing we were about to dive into wasn’t how I’d imagined the weeks prior to my first year in university, but oh, well. Expect the unexpected and if unable to – just accept it. This officially marked the beginning of my longest stay in City of Dumbassery. It was surprising, however, that I wasn’t alone in there. Twice as surprising that I’d be stuck with my father’s intern. Whom I was having sex with. Amazing. Spectacular. Asshole-me would have my ass for that.

tag list: @unloved-cadillac ; @donaldthrts

[ohmypawsandwhiskers]

Of Devils and Monsters Ch. 7 is posted!

Art by @mraeelli

Summary:

Fate brings two old friends together again and sets them on the path to truth. In a last ditch effort to save her own skin, Lozen Daniella Pierce reaches out to an old friend in hopes of gaining her freedom. In doing so, she and Erwin Smith find themselves thrust on a path to truth- the truth behind the walls, behind secret organizations, and the truth of who they turned into.

Read chapter 7 here!

[levithestripper]

from the attack on titan musical in new york this weekend!!!! they straight up ripped levi and erwin out of the manga look at my boys ,,,,,

[lucysarah-c]

"My room is a disaster, my life slightly more,"

-Erwin Smith, Holy Ground Ch. 18

[melishade]

top 5 favs from TFP / or top 5 characters from AoT (in ur opinion)

This ask game btw

Top five characters from TFP or Aot...I'll do Aot.

For Attack on Titan:

Hanji Zoe my beloved. I just...I project on this woman, a lot. And you might notice it in my writing. Lol. She's just fun. She cares about science. I just love her energy. I really wish we learned more about her.

2. Levi Ackerman. He's got a great backstory. He can beyblade like a beast, and he does genuinely care about people. And once you have his loyalty, you have it. He's just terrible with emotions. And get this man some sleep!

3. Erwin Smith. Guy got shit done even though he dirtied his hands for it. I don't agree with all of his methods, but I respect his work ethics. And he's still willing to die for the cause with his comrades and gives bomb ass speeches while doing it.

4. Armin Arlert. I think what I liked most about him was that despite the world going to shit or collapsing all around him, he does his best to hold onto hope. To find a light through the darkness. He wants desperately for there to be peace, but if he has to get his hands dirty he will. I just wish what he said to Eren in ch 139 wasn't the way he said it. God, it still rubs me the wrong way to this day. If it was rephrased differently, he might've been higher up on the list.

5. Historia Reiss. I did not like the fact that Isayama sidelined her in season 4 because she had some phenomenal character development in season 3. A girl told by everyone what to do, defying the fate others wanted her to take. That's empowering and badass.

[nymphoheretic]

911 Brainrot ??

Let me introduce to you the way I write my Erwin Smith fics : BY THINKING AB BOBBY NASH !

Am I ashamed in any way ? No I have daddy issues

- @ch-4-s-3

BOBBY NASH AND ERWIN ARE LITERALLY THE SAME PERSON!!

[the-traveling-poet]

𝒫𝒶𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔

Levi Ackerman x f!OC

𝒮𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎

The R.O.S.E., or rather the “Recovery Operations Squad Experiment” put together by Commander Dot Pixis, had so far been a success. The people of the southern district's desire to have something of their loved ones retrieved from titan territory to bury finally made it to court. Though it had been overruled by Premier Darius Zackly, Pixis found he could not let the issue rest. In an attempt to boost moral for his people, Pixis assigned his top Captain, Aviline Faye, to this new squad. Despite the danger of retrieval, it was decided they must at least try; for the ease of mind for humanity. But as the walls crumble, Faye and her squad find themselves occupying a new position; under Commander Erwin Smith of the Survey Corps. Can the two branches learn to get along as Captains butt heads?

𝒞𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉

This fic will contain potentially sensitive themes, such as; graphic violence, strong language, alcoholism, smoking, general gore, themes of abuse and loss, and perhaps possibly some sexual themes later on. I'll be basing this fic on both the manga and the anime, as well as some added twists and turns added in by yours truly. Please do not repost to any other platforms.

𝑀𝒶𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉

Prologue

Ch. 1 ~ The R.O.S.E.

Ch. 2 ~ New Encounters

Ch. 3 ~ Returning Home

Ch. 4 ~ Public Affairs

Ch. 5 ~ The Fall of a City

Golden Divider <3

[loveandpeaceanddoughnuts]

For my insomniac: Erwin Smith x Reader [Ch. 3]

(Ch. 1-2 here) Erwin keeps vigil at your bedside as you fight through vivid nightmares in the infirmary and tries to keep you safe in the waking world. The feelings rising in you both are growing too strong to ignore, and too dangerous to admit.

an: ongoing fic originally posted on ao3! // cw: canon-typical violence/gore/horror

Your maneuver gear is dead weight, the last of the gas used up in a pathetic little puff that sent you hurtling toward the ground. You were always bad at gauging what you had left, and right now you don’t have the luxury of mourning the loss. You hit the ground hard, a wet snap somewhere below your waist. Another thing you can’t afford to care about right now. 

You drag yourself to the relative safety of a stand of trees, sliding your blades out with a grating schhhck before shrugging off the rest of the gear. Your body is on fire, only the deepest of impulses still pulsing in your brain, to survive survive survive. You can feel the incoming titans before you see them, the ground shaking under their mindless steps. There are too many. There are always too many.

Your frantic eyes land on a smear of blood in the clearing to your left, following it to the pile of steaming viscera that was once your comrade. You bend double and dry heave until acid trickles past your lips, coating your teeth. You don’t have time for this. There is never enough time.

You force your eyes back up to scan the area, searching for any signs of life. You can’t be the last one left alive, you can’t be alone out here- there. A human figure is lying face-down in the clearing. You run for them, momentarily forgetting the titans as you flee the shelter of the trees. Lightning bolts of pain spike up your leg from whatever you broke in your fall, but you ignore it. Getting out of here with most of your limbs intact would be a blessing. 

“Hey! HEY!” You shout and wave your arms frantically as you run, stumbling and picking yourself back up over and over until your good leg gives out. But you have to keep moving. You claw yourself forward over the battleground, your splintering nails a drop of discomfort in the agony that has become your body. You can see now that the figure is clad in a shredded Scout jacket, the wings of freedom in tatters on their twisted shoulders. As you near them, you’re hit with the overwhelming smell of rot: sun-baked decay and hot metal blood. 

Your stomach seizes again when you see the shock of blonde hair, recognizable even through the layers of matted dirt. “Commander?” The words tear through your throat but leave your lips as a strangled whisper, a fist squeezing your lungs. “Commander! Can you hear me?” You try to flip him over, desperate to see his face. 

His body moves much too easily, light as kindling. A cloud of flies engulfs you as you turn him, disturbed from their resting place in the slick pool of Erwin’s blood. You look around wildly for someone, anyone else to help, to witness this, but you’re alone. The corpses of your comrades litter the field like stones. Your eyes skip over his body each time you try to look, your mind fighting to protect you. You force yourself to stare down, to see him- and immediately turn and retch into the dirt. 

Erwin is gone. Most of Erwin is gone, that is. His face is somehow intact, but everything below his shoulders is a sickening smear of torn flesh and open wounds. Turning him over seems to have disturbed whatever trick of gravity had managed to hold him together. The ropy pink of intestines slop over his abdomen, and you wonder hysterically if you could push it all back in, put him back together.

You drag your gaze back to his face, your mind going blank in an effort to keep you sane. You’re staring at him, shock-numb and frozen, when his eyes open. “Erwin…? Commander!” You lean over him, heart racing. “I’m here, I’m here. I’ll get you out of here…” Again, your voice is squeezed and warped on its way out of your mouth. Your reassurance twists into a ragged groan, an inhuman noise.

The Commander’s feverish eyes lock on you, their sky blue clouded with mists of blood. His features distort into a mask of absolute horror. You watch in shock as he tries to scrabble upright with a pulpy mess of limbs that are no longer there, flinging himself backward in an attempt to get away from you. Utter terror propels his broken body, and he makes it a few feet before you reach out, trying to soothe him, to stop your Commander from smearing his own cooling corpse across the battlefield.  

A titan’s hand reaches for Erwin, coming from behind you. You spin around, readying your blades, but there’s nothing there. You whirl back to him, increasingly panicked, incoherent pleas spilling out. “Please, Commander, calm down, we have to get you out of here, I’ll stop them, I swear, just stop fighting…”

The huge hand stretches out once more, almost as if it were trying to stroke his cheek. Erwin screams, and you wish that you had died before you had to hear the sound. He’s reaching blindly with the fingers he has left for blades that aren’t there, ready to die fighting. You move to cover your mouth, to hold in the scream that’s building. The massive hand of a titan swings up and presses over your lips. Your hand. 

No, no, no, this can’t be- you squeeze your eyes shut and suck in a breath, then look back down at your hands. The huge, obscene hands of a titan. You look back to Erwin, propped on his elbows now and staring at you with searing hate, panting through the foamy blood at his lips.

“Erwin…” your whisper dissipates. Your voice is forgotten. You raise your ODM sword, the ultrahard steel glinting dully in the vast expanse of your grip. “Have mercy,” you can’t say. “Forgive me,” you can’t think. You reach back and slash the blade across the nape of your neck, falling forward, the Commander’s name a prayer that flashes across the last synapse of your dying brain.

You bolt awake with a strangled scream. Oxygen pours into your lungs, your hands flung out in front of you, somehow still responding to your severed spinal cord- no, not severed. Your hands are your own, raw-bitten nail beds and old scars. Nausea floods over you and you hang over the edge of the cot- an infirmary cot, you’re in the barracks?- to vomit your empty stomach into a bucket.

A strong hand is at your back, another holding back your hair as you gag. The contact makes you shudder, whip around defensively, teeth bared for a fight, but the adrenaline leaves you in a rush as you see the Commander. He’s pale, but the fear in his eyes is for you, not of you.

“You’re safe. You’re safe,” he rumbles, his hand squeezing yours. All you can see when you look up at him is the vision of his torn body on the battlefield, his corpse trying to escape you, the blood, the gore… you shudder, tears spilling over your lashes. 

“Erwin… Commander!” You’re fully back to yourself now, horrified that you whispered his first name. The guilt mixes with your relief to be back in reality.

The Commander doesn’t reprimand you. His eyes, blessedly clear of blood, remain on you as you stare at your entwined hands, confusion and exhaustion written across your face. His heart is pounding madly in his chest, the sound of you whispering his name echoing in his ears, though he doesn’t show it. He stays quiet for a moment, letting you get your bearings as he grounds himself. 

He finally speaks, his voice low and steady. “You had a nightmare, Captain. I tried to wake you,” he swallows and looks away, his hand squeezing yours. “You were calling for me.” 

You move to pull your hand away, trying to distance yourself from the impropriety. “Please forgive my boldness, sir.” Erwin’s grip tightens, refusing to let you go.

“Forgive you?” He echoes. “You have nothing to be sorry for. You were dreaming, in pain, disoriented. Do not apologize.” There’s no anger in his gaze, just concern and something softer. He speaks slowly, choosing his words with care. “Captain, I am aware that you have not been sleeping. I had my suspicions based on your recent performance, but the medic informed me that you are severely deprived. Is this why? Do you often have these dreams?”

Your face crumpled, the weight of keeping the secret suddenly gone. “Yes,” you whisper bitterly. “Every night, sir. There are some differences, but the horror of it- that’s always the same. Sometimes I’d rather stay awake than face it, weak as that makes me.”

Erwin nodded. “I understand. And it doesn’t make you weak.” His voice is firm. “You aren’t the only soldier that fights this battle, Captain.” You look up at him, glassy-eyed. 

“...sir?”

His tone is gentle, but his words sting. “Do you imagine you are the only person in this regiment with nightmares? The only one with memories pushed so far down that they surface the moment sleep strips your defenses? That you’re the only one who sees them?”

You squeeze your eyes shut in a vain attempt to hide the faces of the Scouts lost on your last mission, conjured by his words. “No, sir.” His thumb traces patterns on the back of your hand. 

“You can’t shoulder this alone, Captain. You owe your soldiers more than that. You owe yourself more than that. I…” he catches himself and looks down, uncharacteristic conflict on his face. “The Scouts. We need you.”

Your breath catches, not just from your fractured ribs. “Yes, sir.” 

Erwin nods firmly and stands up, suddenly all business again. “It seems the medication caused you to sleep, but the nightmare kept you from truly resting. I will speak to the medic about alternative treatment.” He slides his hand out of yours without comment, but you see a shiver run across his broad shoulders. 

“Thank you, sir. I appreciate your concern.” You try your best to match his professionalism, still reeling from the moment of vulnerability. You have the fleeting, wild desire to make him stay, but can’t think of anything to justify it. He’s wasted enough time with you.

The Commander inclines his head to you and straightens his jacket as he prepares to leave. He’s halfway to the door when he says over his shoulder, “Don’t forget what we have spoken about, Captain. I wish you a speedy recovery.” Then he’s gone. 

Erwin strides out of the infirmary, keeping his face perfectly composed until he’s safely behind the door of his quarters. As soon as the door is shut and locked, he presses his forehead against the thick wood. “Goddamn it.” That was a mistake. He should have waited to see you, let the medic handle your recovery and send another officer to check on you a week from now. Anything but spend hours at your bedside, holding your hand, watching you breathe. He closed his eyes, but still saw you lying on the cot, tossing in your sleep. Still heard the sound of his first name on your lips, your sweet voice pleading for him, ragged in fear. 

A dull headache settled at the base of his skull. How long had it been since he had stooped so low? Had shown such weakness in front of a subordinate? Whatever it was, it had to stop here. It was far too dangerous to feel what he was feeling for you, this soft-edged burn in his chest.

Three days passed in relative peace. There were no casualties from the missions currently outside the walls, and the soldiers within the barracks were civil and productive. Erwin was kept busy with his usual duties, but while his body was occupied his mind was filled with thoughts of you. He badly wanted to check on your recovery, but was afraid to encourage what was blossoming inside of him to grow.

For your part, you had been largely dead to the world. A fever had taken hold of your sleep-deprived body, leaving you indefinitely confined to the infirmary. You were almost grateful for the illness in your lucid moments, able to push away the mess of thoughts and feelings that your last encounter with the Commander had brought about. The longer you languished in your cot, the more fuzzy-edged the memory of his hand in yours became. Had you imagined it all? A fever-dream?

But you couldn’t have dreamed up the way the memory made your heart race. The way the thought of his steel-blue eyes made your vague, ever-present nausea coalesce into butterflies. Your nightmares used to cycle through the many faces of your comrades each night, the same plot reenacted with different victims. Since your encounter with Erwin, however, the broken figure on the battlefield was always him . He was always the victim of your monstrosity, and you didn’t dare to dwell on what that meant.

Erwin had been immediately informed of your condition. Though he was determined to keep his distance, he had ordered the medic to send him regular updates, and was anxiously waiting to hear that your fever had broken. He was signing death notices in his office when a soldier ran in, breathless with news.

“Commander, the Captain is delirious and combative. The medic is requesting your immediate intervention. They can’t handle her, sir.” Erwin is already out the door, the soldier trotting at his side to keep up.

“Have they administered the medication we discussed? Something non-sedating for sleep?”

The soldier shook his head, looking scared to answer. “N-no, sir. I heard them say she was too unstable for it.”

Erwin swore under his breath. “Understood. You’re dismissed.” The soldier gratefully ran in the other direction of the Commander’s war path. Erwin stormed into your infirmary room, clenching his jaw as he absorbed the scene of overturned furniture and strewn bedding.  

You were struggling against the medic who was manhandling you into bed, all flailing limbs and teeth. They had a syringe aimed at the inside of your left arm and slammed the plunger down just as Erwin made it to your side. The medic stepped back, unapologetic as they met the Commander’s fury. “They were out of control, sir.”

“It’s your job to handle that, is it not?”

“My job is to run this infirmary and patch up your soldiers, sir. I can’t do either with your Captain trying to kill me and my team.” Erwin clenched his fists but gave a curt nod.

“I see. Please excuse us.” The medic silently left the room. 

The Commander’s figure swam in and out of focus, backlit in a halo of candlelight as you stared up at him woozily. You smiled softly, not recognizing him through the fever-fog. 

“You’re so beautiful. Are you an angel?” You reach up to cup his cheek in one clammy palm. “Am I dying?”

The angel trembles, his calloused hand gently prying yours away. “Captain. You’re sick, but you’re not dying. I won’t let you.” 

You try to sit up, reaching for him again, but your body fails you. You collapse against the bed, gasping at the pain that knifes through your chest. The angel leans forward, pressing against your shoulder in an attempt to keep you still. “Try not to move. That’s an order.”

The sound of the grim directive allows your brain to name the angel, a flash of duty-bound recognition. “Commander…” You look up at him in awe, only coherent enough for the truth. “I’m so tired. It hurts.”

“I know,” he murmurs. “I’m sorry.” He brushes sweat-soaked hair off your forehead with the back of his hand, the other still holding your shoulder firm. “I told you that I wouldn’t let them sedate you again, and I failed.”

Your chest aches at the look on his face, and you offer what you hope is a reassuring smile. “It’s okay. I feel all warm and floaty.” You try to remember what could be wrong with the fuzzy-headed medicine, and frown. “But I can’t sleep. If I sleep I’ll have bad dreams…”

“I know,” Erwin says again. He stares down at you, the fever blushing your hollow cheeks as you meet his gaze with heartbreaking trust. He steps back, the weight of your faith in him suddenly crushing.

Your eyelids start to close against your will. You’re too weak to resist. All you can do is keep your eyes on your Commander as you’re pulled under, trying to carry the image of his unbroken body into the nightmare that awaits you.

[notsomajestic]

he finally caaaame ❤️