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lucysarah-c · 4 months

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Euphemisms

Summary: Levi may not have attended school, but he knows a thing or two about pregnancy… and also periods. (Levi takes care of you during your period) Author's Note: I wrote this story a while ago for my main fic. Then, I wrote a different version for the final cut of the fic, so I decided to re-arrange this one so it could be a one-shot. Warning: Suggesting themes, mentions of pregnacy. The reader is a virgin. Word Count: 3.5k

The calendar that was peacefully and innocently lying on top of Erwin’s desk. ‘March…’ her mind read, ‘It’s March already, the 7th to be precise.’ Her mind tried to count days, desperately trying to find missing days that could make the counting lower. Biting her nails with worry, this was a new topic for her to be stressed about.

Levi had joined the military only a year ago, right? He hadn’t been promoted yet, but the gossip in the halls said it was imminent. Perhaps because in the few months he had been part of the Scouts, he had already killed more titans than anyone before. Maybe it was because he worked directly for Erwin, who kept ordering her to write letters to the military board requesting the special promotion of Captain for those who were impressive additions to the military but hadn’t gone through the regular training.

The yet-to-be Captain and she had locked eyes in the past, or… done more than just locking eyes. That was the issue now. Every single time Levi was dragged into Erwin’s office because he had replied with his colorful vocabulary to a higher-up or fought another cadet, she was there. One thing led to another, and during common chores or after training, they had gotten more “familiar” with each other.

Y/N wouldn’t even dare to complain. The thug that Erwin had decided to bring to the surface kicking and shouting was many things. Rushed wasn’t one of them. She had clarified to him that she had never had a boyfriend before, or anything to be more precise, and he had reassured her that she could set the tempo. They would do anything that she felt comfortable with.

“Lev- Ah-“ she whimpered as he kissed her neck enthusiastically and his fingers played thoughtful circles over her clit.

“You like that, hm?” Levi replied almost as joke, it was obvious that she did by the way she rocked her hips against his hand.

“I-?!”

“Shhh,” he hushed her, half as mockery, half because they were breaking curfew “Don’t worry, I won’t go too far… two fingers are all I need,”

Blood rushed to her cheeks as she tried to concentrate on work, pen marking the time as it repeatedly hit the paper she was supposed to be reading while her mind recalled the exact scenes that, she believed, had dragged her into this situation.

The little knowledge that had been shared with her was more lies and tales than realistic information. The sudden crucifixion of her actions a couple of months ago passed in her mind as a picture book, one after the other, as her less pure side made an emphasis on bringing back the mental sequence of him taking off his shirt while smirking and then going down to kiss her, or better say devour her, taking her breath as if he needed the oxygen from her lungs for himself. Perhaps, the rocking of his bare hips against hers, with his manhood in full display for her to see as it pressed against her lower stomach.

‘Maybe it takes longer to show… no no, maybe I’m not. But what if I am?’ ‘Who do I tell? Who do I ask? What do I do?’

“Oi, are you going to tell me what the fuck is up with you or not?” Levi asked, pissed off already after an entire day of him asking, “You alright?” and her answering with a face that seemed far from okay, saying “Yes.” He was resting his body on the railing of the watch post, with a hot cup of tea between his hands.

“Nothing,” her voice came out whispery and sad, and he sighed loudly and groaned in pain.

“Just say it. Don’t be like ‘nothing,’” he emphasized the last word with sarcasm and disdain and kept going, “with the most fucked up face. It’s obvious that something is going on. Don’t be a pain in the ass and say it. Cut the show.”

A part of her wanted to be mad at him for saying that she wasn’t making a show or a scene. “It’s nothing that concerns you,” her response came dubitable, which made Levi keep up the demanding attitude, as if this time he wasn’t taking that as an answer. “It doesn’t concern you… you as a man.”

There was a brief silence before he sighed loudly. “You’re on the rags, that’s it?” She raised an eyebrow at the euphemism that was a bit more “street-like” than what she was used to. “You’re on your period, you’re bleeding. That’s what I meant.”

Leaving aside that it wasn’t the first time and wouldn’t be the last that despite both of them talking the same language as every human inside of the walls, Underground slang was so distant from what she was used to that sometimes that they got lost in translation. When she got what he meant, she blushed intensely, ashamed. “No, and God, you could be a bit more delicate about it.”

Possibly, she wasn’t used to bringing the topic around the other gender. She had been told (since it happened for the first time) the bearable minimum amount of information: “You’re a woman now, it will happen every month, men must not know.” Telling Levi was breaking one of the three rules set in stone for her. The second rule was also broken, so she felt like stepping on completely foreign land.

The permanent wrinkled frown in Levi’s complexion was slightly changed with the addition of a raised, thin eyebrow. “If you’re not, then what’s the problem?”

She joined in the frowning and avoided his glance with questionable security and a mortified appearance. “More like… the lack of it?”

“Why are you worried about it?” Levi’s straightforward nature was testing her limits of politeness.

“Well, you know!” she cussed at him. “That I may be expecting,” she whispered the last part, terrified that someone might even hear her, in the middle of the night, in the middle of nowhere. As if those words could travel through walls and arrive at someone.

This was the time for him to be shocked and surprised. His eyebrows raised, and his eyes opened. Suddenly, even without him wanting, a pang of hurt appeared in his face. Levi was quick to question, “Are you fuckin’ someone?”

Perhaps the details or the official title of what they were sharing hadn’t been discussed yet, but Levi somehow thought it was rather clear that they were exclusive. However, since she seemed genuinely worried, Levi considered that perhaps he was the only one taking this more seriously. The idea of him misreading the relationship was like a bucket of cold water mixed with the raging fire of jealousy. He took a sip of his tea, mostly to disguise the disappointment mingled with hurt.

Her coldness was lost, and she pressed her lips together while raising both eyebrows, irritated. “You!”

The former thug, not following her train of thought, admired her in confusion before saying, “How could I get you knotted up?”

Levi’s usual frowning expression changed slightly as he was certainly not getting the point of the conversation. “Are you fuckin’ someone else?”

Gasping in disbelief, “Are you already questioning my loyalty to you?” She felt dreadfully offended. She turned around and gave him her back. “My grandmother was right. Men back up so easily. They leave you as soon as they find out.”

He shook his head slightly while wrinkling the nose, as he tried to process everything. He was completely confused but at the same time he got a rush of relief at her words. “You… you think you could be knock up?”

“Couldn’t you be softer about it? You say it so harshly,” she complained about his sharp tongue. As a silent reply, the hand that wasn’t holding the cup left his trousers’ pocket and raised as he also cocked an eyebrow, completely misunderstanding what was wrong with his choice of words. “I don’t know, maybe a bun in the oven or with child.”

She was freaking out inside and out, and Levi dedicated his best disinterested look to her after her correction of words. “What am I going to do?” she questioned to no one in particular as she felt the fear kicking in.

Levi’s expression remained the same as he gave it a thought, and then said almost as if he was confused of his own actions too. “I … I haven’t put it in yet,”

She seemed to have completely ignored him. Once he had finally concluded there was actually no real problem he sighed and then said, “Then you’re not pregnant, chill. Calm down.” As soon as those words left his lips and she turned around with a dead gaze, his free hand raised again but this time as some sort of white flag. “Fine, fucking terrible choice of words.” Aware that not a single person in human history had calmed down after being told so.

“You don’t know that,” she murmured as a reply to his first statement.

“I think I kinda do.” The calmness in his tone and the disinterest in his face made her even more infuriated.

“People in my life, especially my family, had made it clear before. Messing around with a man could lead to pregnancy. We were both naked and your… your thing was touching me and close by. I don’t know! Maybe it worked somehow,” she desperately tried to express her fears until she heard him chuckle. It was starting to be tiring to dedicated him dead glances.

“Sorry,” he apologized, probably realizing that laughing in her face wasn’t helping. “I may not be the most educated moron around here, but that simply is not how it works. I didn’t put my dick in, not even close, so you’re safe.”

“Are you implying that you know more than everybody around me?”

“More about sex than you? Apparently, yes, I’m sure of that.” As he arrived at the end of his reply, he couldn’t stop a side smirk from appearing on his features, and then he took a sip from his tea. "If getting knotted up was that easy, girly, there would be more kids than fucking grass.”

Her stubbornness didn’t allow her to believe him. She walked around the watch post worrying, “What if I need to carry it on? Will I lose my job? Erwin will be so disappointed in me! I’m not ready for that. I’m not ready to be a mother either.”

Levi rolled his eyes and shook his head. “You know, there’s no fucking schools down there but I’m sure about this.” He commented, thinking to himself so stupidly prudish surface people were compared to the underground. “You’re not knock up. I’ve to put it in and shoot my load for that to happen”

When he noticed she wasn’t really paying attention, Levi took a cup and filled it up with tea. He placed it in her hands and grabbed her face. His rough, calloused hand applied pressure on her cheeks and raised it slowly, to look up at him even when they were more or less the same height. “Calm the fuck down. Why would I lie to you? If it was possible, don’t you think I would freak out? Drink the tea and relax for goodness’ sake. We are one week away from an expedition, and you’re stressed as a fucking cornered rat. Of course, your period is not coming down.”

“Alright,” she stuttered. “But what if I am? You’re not leaving me to deal with this alone, right?” She gave him her best doe eyes.

“Of course,” he replied, mostly to not argue with her but the thought that she was still considering it made him roll his eyes.

Stress is never an excellent ally. He was right in everything. They came back from the expedition; she relaxed for a few days, and it came right in. If there’s something worse than a period, it's a late one. Her hormones were messed up, and everything hurt twice as much.

"Trying" was a generous word for her attempts at pretending she wasn’t in so much pain that she wished she'd never left her bed. It was a mix of the constant discomfort from the unrelenting waves of pain and a boiling sensation in her lower belly. Not to mention the random rushes of intense pain in her butt that made her feel as if time froze until the sensation slowly passed. She felt moody, mostly because the uniform felt like it was pressing in all the wrong places. It was too tight, complicated, impractical, itchy, and either too cold or too warm. She wanted to put on a long shirt and lay in bed for a week.

Her fork moved the food from one side of the plate to the other. She was hungry, but not for breakfast. The usual meal felt like an insult to her state. ‘I want comfort food, not healthy stuff for training,’ she thought.

“Why the shitty face? Are you constipated?” Levi asked bluntly. Her initial thought was, ‘Yes, try going to the bathroom normally when you feel like dying.’

“I have a headache,” she replied miserably.

Levi hummed a positive reply, “Ah,” looking her from the other side of the table and simply stated, “Your blood finally came,”

She choked on the glass of water she was drinking, coughing loudly. When she finally recovered, her embarrassed expression made it clear how she felt. “Don’t say that! Or at least not like that. Haven’t you imagined that a headache is a social clue since you’re a man and I don’t want you to know?”

Levi, who once again didn’t understand her reactions, kept his uninterested facade and raised the teacup to his lips. “I don’t get your fucking embarrassment. Men know about it. It’s not a secret.”

“It’s girls’ stuff,” she tried desperately to keep the traditions she was told, while Levi was obstinate about going against them.

“It’s normal. Why are people here on the surface so fucking obsessed about hiding normal shit?” Levi, still getting used to another society, snarled.

The need to argue left her body as she writhed in pain from another cramp. She tried to hide it as best as she could, even though Levi already knew; she felt like expressing her pain was something he didn’t want to hear.

“If you feel that bad, go to bed and rest.” His voice was calm and monotone as always, but there were hints of compassion escaping his stoic expression.

“I can’t tell the superiors,” she used as an excuse.

Levi clicked his tongue, annoyed. “Who cares? What’s the point of you training while feeling like this? Go, rest, and I will tell Erwin.”

“Erwin shouldn’t know,” she cried out loud, as if that was the worst fate.

“Don’t be an idiot. Erwin has hair on his balls. He knows how it works.” Levi felt as if she was talking nonsense but when he saw her conflicted face, he added, “I will tell him you caught a cold, whatever, so rest. I’ll do your chores.”

“You sure?”

“Just go.”

She did exactly that. At first, she felt she shouldn’t because she could bare it, but as soon as she arrived at her shared bedroom, changed her clothes, and laid quietly on the bed, she knew she didn’t want to be anywhere else. She fell asleep; it was still early anyway, so it was more like resuming the rest of the night than an actual nap.

Later, a few hours before dinner, she was feeling quite bad but wasn’t tired enough to take another nap. Laying on her side, curled up as she read a book slowly because it was hard to read from that position, she heard a knock on the door. It was unusual because her friends would have just rushed in.

“Come in!” she said, slowly and lazily sitting up.

Levi's figure appeared, and she felt the urgent need to smooth out her hair, which was heavily tangled from lying in bed all day. “What are you doing here?” she questioned quickly, running her hands through her hair. “Men are not allowed in the female barracks.”

Levi left a tray with tea and some buns with jelly, probably leftover from breakfast, on her nightstand as he moved next to her between the two bunk beds. “Who is gonna keep me out?” he replied monotonously, as if they both knew nobody was going to pick a fight with him or get on his bad side by snitching to a higher-up.

Before she could thank him, he asked, “You have a hot water bottle?”

“Yeah, but it’s cold already,” she replied, still confused. He extended a hand as a silent gesture for her to give it to him.

Once she handed it to him, he declared, “I’ll come back later. Drink the tea before it gets cold. Bread with jelly was the closest thing to something your bratty sweet tooth would like.”

She accepted the warm cup he handed her with a tender smile. “Thank you so much, you shouldn’t have.”

“How are you feeling?” Levi asked, keeping his eyes on her while she tasted the tea. ‘Chamomile,’ she noted.

“Could be worse, I’ll survive,” she replied, still embarrassed that he was around. “Did you warn the higher-ups?”

Levi nodded. “Told them you had a headache. Erwin said to take it easy today and let him know how you feel tomorrow. He mentioned something about administrative activities or some bullshit like that if you’re still not feeling well enough for training.”

She accepted the white lie without question. While resting warmly in bed, she thought, ‘If it’s only him knowing, I could get used to this kind of pampering.’

The white lie was necessary because when Levi walked to Erwin, who was leading his squad’s early morning training, he stood in front of him and said, “Y/N isn’t training today, she’s bleeding.”

The blunt words made the blond, who was casually writing on a spreadsheet, snap quickly in shock and then chuckle slightly out of nervousness. “Oh, alright, I’ll write her down as indisposed.”

“Don’t tell me you’re fucking ashamed, too?” Levi rested his hands on his hips, looking deeply at his squad leader.

Erwin, probably smiling at the unexpected situation, said, “Well no, but usually people are a bit more discreet… especially the girls.” Levi clicked his tongue, annoyed, before Erwin added, “I highly doubt Y/N told you to tell me that.”

“She told me to say she had a headache.”

“Of course,” Erwin chuckled, knowing those were not her words. “Try to be softer next time, especially if you ever have girls under your command. They get really embarrassed, especially when they are young.”

Levi rolled his eyes. “Got it. I’ll add it to my long list of stuff that you fuckers from the surface get scared about.”

He was ready to go back to training while Erwin let the swears slip by as if he was tired of calling Levi’s attention to those. Then the shorter man asked, “Do you have chamomile tea?”

Erwin raised his attention from the spreadsheet to look at Levi and simply replied, “No. I have black tea.”

He clicked his tongue, “it’s for the brat,” Levi clarified, as if that would make a difference.

“I imagined, but no. I can give you black tea if you want.” Erwin insisted, confused about the specificity.

Levi frowned. “That doesn’t work, moron. Caffeine makes cramps worse. Chamomile works better. Don’t you know that?”

The blond shook his head, not ashamed of admitting his lack of knowledge. “Usually, female cadets don’t talk to us about that.”

“About their bleeding? Don’t you have a little sister?” Levi questioned back, as if that was reason enough.

“Step-sister, and she was born after I joined the military. We never shared a household,” Erwin explained as he went back to his work, disinterested. “And we prefer to call it indisposed,” he added, instructing him again.

“Tch, got it. I’ll add it to the other list of stuff I should say instead,” Levi said, ending the conversation as he turned around and walked away.

Or so he thought, because Erwin spoke up again. His attention was still on his paperwork while he switched the weight from one leg to the other, making the little rocks of the training ground move and crack. “Euphemisms.”

The former thug looked back over his shoulder, frowning, and asked, “What?” from a slightly bigger distance now.

“Euphemisms,” Erwin repeated as if the question was because the cadet didn’t hear it. But as soon as the blond didn’t get an answer, he proceeded to explain, “A euphemism is a word or phrase used to avoid saying an unpleasant or offensive word.”

Erwin had no intention of displaying his education to the former thug, more of a plain explanation. The blond even raised his eyes and did a slight smile as a “white flag,” not trying to sound superior in his explanation.

Levi replied with his best deadpan expression, “You surface assholes know that but not about chamomile tea? You should check your priorities.”

This time, the black-haired cadet truly walked away, hearing his superior chuckle a bit. “Check with Hange. They may have the tea,” Erwin called after him.

Link to my masterlist and my other works if you feel like checking them out. Tags!: @nube55 @justkon @notgoodforlife @nmlkys @humanitys-strongest-bamf @quillinhand @thoreeo @darkstarlight82 @angelofthorr @aomi04 @levisbrat25 @l3visthighs @hum4n-wr3ckag3 @hannieslovebot @starrylevi @rithty @mariaace @ackrmntea @emilyyyy-08 @levisfavoriteteashop @katestrophes @levistealeaf @an-ever-angry-bi @youre-ackermine @fxnnyackerman @secretmoneybearvoid @trashblackrainbow @flxrartsstuff @katharinasdiaryy @kikarouflames @levisecretgfblog @searriously @blackdxggr @ackermanswifee Wanna join my tag list? Here!

Ps: If you ask me... Erwin know they are fucking lol

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neiptune · 8 months

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no one teaches you what to do when a good man hurts you

cw: 1.4k wc, mentions of alcohol, painful breakup, hurt no comfort, reader is a writer, you call levi in the middle of the night and the last thing you expect is for him to pick up

You don’t expect him to pick up.

Levi is always busy: when he’s not working he’s at the gym, tidying up his apartment or entertaining a surprisingly large social circle one wouldn’t expect someone as quiet as him to have.

Levi has hobbies. He enjoys going to the movies, visiting exhibitions, experimenting in the kitchen with western recipes.

Levi is also usually asleep at 1 am, the man has quite the regular routine and tries to be in bed by no later than midnight because, of course, he gets up at the ass crack of dawn.

But he picks up and suddenly the glasses of wine shared with your friends, the joy of a night out still lingering in your throat like magical golden bubbles, weighs heavy on your chest. He wasn’t supposed to pick up.

“Hey” his voice is gravelly but no as in I-was-almost-asleep-you-asshole-what-could-you-possibly-want. It reminds you of all the times you two have laughed until tears streamed down your cheeks, those incredibly rare moments where you could bribe him with your silly humor and stupid videos, knowing looks, exasperated smile. His voice used to always get so husky after laughing for so long, almost a protest of throat muscles not used to the foreign action.

“Hi” you swallow what feels like a lump of ashes “sorry, it’s kinda late. I didn’t want to-”

“It’s fine, I wasn’t sleeping. I’m actually at the bar with some friends”

You hear the music, the voices, the clinking of glasses.

Well, that’s new.

“Wow” you fail to suppress a tiny, amused smile.

“I know, right?” when you don’t say anything back, he clears his throat “how are you?”

“Good” the reply is automatic, you’re kinda on autopilot and being tipsy makes the entire situation just weird, unexpected, instead of painfully embarrassing “um, what about you?”

“I’m okay. Currently putting myself out there”

“Like I always told you to?”

He smiles a little at that but you can’t see it and it’s been too long to guess the stretch of his lips by his voice only.

“Like you always told me to”

“I don’t want to keep you”

“No, it’s fine” Levi inhales and waves back at one of his friends sitting at the table with everyone else while he lingers by the counter “I’m waiting for my beer. Erwin’s here, he’d probably want me to say hello on his behalf”

You ache for another little piece that has been taken out of your life for good the afternoon Levi broke up with you. His family and his hobbies and his routine and his friends. They all used to be a little yours, too.

“Tell him I said hi”

His gaze fixates on a tiny stain on the counter and as he starts absentmindedly scraping the surface with one nail, the words come out on their own accord.

“It’s nice to hear from you, by the way. I thought about calling but I didn’t want to make it weird or uncomfortable”

You melt against the comfort of your pillows, wishing the couch could absorb the sudden exhaustion consuming your cardiac muscles. Fuck, it still hurts. Who would’ve guessed? Five months of going out with your friends, drinking, dancing with strangers, downloading dating apps only to delete them again. It’s never enough. How could it be? Can five months fix a shattered heart that hurts as much as crushed bones? He’s pulled you apart and you still can’t quite remember which piece is supposed to go where. Five months are definitely not enough.

“For me, you mean” it comes out bitter, borderline resentful, and Levi sighs. He sighs. It makes you clench your fist.

“Don’t be like that”

“I’m not being like anything”

“Well, it’s not what I meant. But I know you need something to be mad at, you always do” he retorts.

You sit up straight at that, a jolt of electricity running across your spine. The skin of your forearms starts tingling.

Fuck. You.

“Levi” you’re a fucking asshole fuck you fuck you fuck you for leaving me fuck you for making me fall in love with you “seriously?”

“I’m sorry” he says and he actually means it, tone so sincere it plants a scorching fire poker right through your chest “sorry. That was shitty”

“It’s fine”

No point in fighting anyway, you want to add. Isn’t that what caused everything to go to shit in the first place? Arguments, bitter retorts, stupid quarrels and frustration building up over the silliest things.

I’m too tired for this.

I literally just got back from the office, can you give me a fucking break?

Levi, is it really so hard to wash your goddamn mug in the morning before leaving?

I don’t want to go out tonight.

I have plans with my friends, actually.

Shit, I forgot. Was it today?

It’s okay. No worries.

I’m not sure.

I don’t think I’m in love with you anymore.

It’s fine.

“How’s your family?” he conveniently changes the subject with evergreen smoothness. You shut your eyes.

“They’re fine” my mom misses you “dad is going to buy that kawasaki ninja, I think”

“Are you kidding?” his chuckle startles you and the room suddenly feels like a ship, couch and pavement and walls and paintings undulating dangerously “wow, that’s some dedication”

“Yeah, he’s pretty excited. Are things in the office alright? Is that intern of yours, Armin, still there?”

“I hired him, actually. Pretty good catch”

Pieces that were taken, new pieces adding up to his life without you being aware in the slightest. It’s none of your business anymore.

“That’s great, Levi” it’s redundant, really, repeating his name so many times. But you can’t remember the last time you said it out loud and it still tastes perfect on your tongue, weighs exactly the correct amount.

“How’s the writing going?”

“Ah. I’m kinda in a slump right now”

“Not the first time. You’ll bounce back, can’t wait to look for your next masterpiece in the thrillers and crime section” now you hear the smile and your eyes are suddenly wet.

“I miss you” it comes out before you can stop it, before you can think. He used to find your inebriated state adorable, funny, attractive even. He used to buy expensive red wine you’d share on your couch and cool fingers would sneak underneath your shirts and jeans and his laugh would fill the air like a perfect melody as his lips were softly pressed to your neck.

“God. Guess that’s a weird thing to say. Did I make this weird?”

“No” his voice is kind and dripping with sympathy, which makes your insides churn with sudden pangs of the worst nausea “I miss you too. We were pretty special”

Oh, Levi. Always so gentle at breaking your heart. Never too rough, yet careful enough to paint some very well needed permanent, conclusive hue over three years. You wish it could’ve been just as easy for you.

“Right” then why did you go? “breakups suck”

The childishness of what you just said makes you giggle.

“They really do” he indulges “it’s been a while but you know, right? I’ll always care about you”

It really hasn't been a while for you. His absence painfully throbs along the margins of your days, the spot he used to take in your life and your couch and your kitchen now filled with devastating emptiness.

“I really loved you” Levi adds softly and it’s a concession. You’re grateful.

“I really loved you, too” I would still cross oceans and climb mountains to get to you “have fun, yeah? I mean, be happy. Find whatever it was I couldn’t give you” when did you start crying? You hope he can’t hear it in how oddly your voice is quivering.

Levi sighs again, quietly. You gave me plenty, you gave me everything. He wants to tell you that it wasn’t your fault, that you don’t have anything to blame yourself for. But he knows it’s gonna sound terrible, condescending and disgusting. He knows you’ll heal on your terms, it’s not his place to interfere anymore.

“Thank you for calling” he murmurs and the line goes silent for a second too long, has him shortly wondering if you’re already gone.

“Yeah. Sure, um. Goodnight, Levi” you hang up immediately because you know he’s already guessed the wetness of your cheeks and is probably imagining the redness of your eyes.

He stares at the screen, your name hasn’t blinked back at him in a while. It gives him comfort. But then his beer is getting warm and his friends are calling for him and the phone is shoved back into his pocket and the night has only just begun.

#levi x reader #levi x you #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #aot x reader #aot x you

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m-jelly · 4 months

Note

Hello author. If you allow me, I have an idea for a fanfic. It will tell the story of the post-war wedding of Levi and the readers. You will do the details, descriptions of the beauty and colorfulness of the wedding perfectly. But the main feature of the wedding is that among the guests there will be ghosts of deceased scouts. They watch the wedding and rejoice for them.I've been dreaming about this kind of fanfiction or fanart for a long time, ever since the end of the manga. My English is bad

A magical day

Levi x fem!reader

Canon world, romance, marriage, wedding, mention of ghosts, fluff.

It's wedding day. You and Levi enjoy a blissful day as you finally marry each other. While you enjoy a sweet moment together after officially marrying, Levi sees all his friends and loved ones watching him.

@ladycheesington @levisbrat25 @nyxiieluna @li-anne @galactict3a

@youre-ackermine @thebobaprincess @2moth-anon2 @cypidity @nbinairyn

@bts-spnlvr12 @darkstarlight82 @emilyyyy-08 @levistealeaf @pelicanpizza

@notgoodforlife @searriously @demonic-bird

The wedding was a simple event with only a small number of guests. When it came to attention, you and Levi didn't like it. So, something small and simple was set up for the two of you. You both wanted something small and intimate with each other.

You'd chosen the perfect spot together, it was a large field with views of the lake and vast forests. White seats were lined up with a path made of flowers. At the end of the flowers was an archway made of wild and simple flowers.

Everything set up reflected the two of you so perfectly, the two of you were just simple people deeply in love. Not many people had been invited to the event, mainly because there weren't many people the two of you knew, but you preferred the small event.

Levi sat in his wheelchair as his heart throbbed in his chest. To say he was nervous was an understatement. Even though Levi knew you loved him with everything in you, he was still nervous that you wouldn't turn up.

As soon as the music played he gazed down the path to see you smiling in your gorgeous white dress moving closer. He was so excited when you walked closer to him with a bright smile. Desire filled him causing him to rise to his feet. He stumbled up and then limped towards you.

You hurried closer to Levi. "Levi."

He wrapped his arms around you and held you close. "Mine."

You giggled and hugged Levi tightly. "Mine." You pulled back and cupped his face. "Are you okay? Is your leg hurting?"

"I'm okay. I just had to meet you."

You carefully walked him back to his chair. "Sit, my love."

He sat down and huffed. "You worry too much about me."

You took a seat next to him and hugged his arm. "Always. It's because I love you."

He hummed a light laugh and enjoyed how relaxed the wedding was. He leaned over a moment and kissed your cheek. "I love you so much. You showed me how beautiful life can be. I had little regard for my own worth, but you made me feel like I'm worth a fortune."

"Levi, you're worth more than anything in this world."

He tapped his forehead against yours. "You are the most precious thing in this entire world."

The two of you cuddled up as the ceremony continued. As soon as Levi was given permission to kiss you, his lips were on yours. He wanted to marry you the moment he knew he was in love with you. He rose to his feet and stood before you and kissed you once more.

He held you against him and looked at the crowd. It warmed his heart to see people still cared about the two of you, but then something changed. At first, he thought there was something in his eyes, but then the vision became much clearer and standing among your guests were people he never thought he would see again.

It started with a few of the cadets he'd lost and a few people he had worked with in the past. Next to appear were the vets he was close to, the last of those vets was Erwin. Furlan and Isabel had the biggest grins on their faces as they seemed much closer to you and Levi. Finally, Kuchel stood there with tears in her eyes looking so proud of her son.

"Levi?"

He gulped hard as you called for him. "Yes?"

You rubbed his chest. "Are you okay?"

He pulled his gaze away from his old friends and family to look at you, his new family. "I'm perfect because I have you." He looked back to see they were all there still. "I see them, all of them."

You kissed Levi's cheek. "I know they're proud of you."

He leaned and kissed you. "And they think you're incredibly beautiful."

You giggled. "And they think you look handsome."

He tapped his forehead against yours. "It makes me happy to see my old family, but I have my new family right in front of me."

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dazaiandhislovelybandages · 4 months

Note

does it have to be angst? i was gonna ask for married levi/reader with kids post war but 🥺🙏🏻 for angst maybe it could be about his injuries, with reader giving comfort?

Providing Comfort {Levi Ackerman}

A/n: thank you for requesting. Generally you can request whatever you want but I don't think I would actually write the request with him having kids. Anyways. I hope you like the comfort one.

Pairing: Levi Ackerman x gn!reader

Trigger warnings: mentions of injuries, self doubt, low confidence, mentions of not liking oneself, mentions of painkillers

You knew the first months after the war were going to be the most difficult ones. It wasn't just because of the fact that everyone would have to get used to the new world but also because of the trauma everything had left behind.

"Just give me another... one of those little damn things." Levi groaned and despite your attempts to help him lie back down on the bed, he sat back up.

"Aspirins?" You let out a sigh and sat next to him.

The most difficult part in reality was trying to help the most stubborn man you knew with getting accustomed to his new daily life. For better or for worse, Levi refused to follow or at least understand the orders the doctor had given him. On one hand, it was understandable; he was used to constantly moving, training, going on expeditions and fighting, there was no way he could accept laying in bed all day in order to heal his injuries. On the other... it saddened you. He was colder than he had ever been, barely talking to anyone and when he did, his words cut deeper than any knife.

"Whatever that is. Just give it to me."

He had started making progress though, you had to admit at least that. In the beginning he wouldn't even tell you when or where he was in pain. It was like a guess game, you would squeeze his knee and pray the pain was too much for him to try and hold back any groans or expressions.

Most of the times it worked.

Then he figured out that he could take aspirins whenever he was in pain and ever since then he refused to let them go. But the doctor's visit yesterday had left him with zero options than to stop taking them.

"The doctor said no, Levi."

"Couldn't care less."

And you couldn't do much about it either. Even batting heads with him felt strange since having been under his command for so long usually meant him giving the orders and not vice versa.

"Maybe doing the exercises the doctor told you would help with the pain... just saying." A small awkward pause followed, small enough to feel as if centuries had passed until Levi shook his head. It didn't need a lot of thinking to figure out why he refused.

The following days after the war ended, Levi and who knows how many others were in the hospital. Unlike some people and like others, Levi didn't get out of there unscathed. The only injury he had partly accepted was his missing fingers which was both because it occured before the war started and also because he proved to himself that he can still do everything just perfect without having all five fingers.

Neither you nor him understood how you came to live with each other but unbeknownst to you, it was more of a comfort than a nuissance to him. However, he still had his... issues. The last thing he wanted was an old member of his team to see him at his worst. Not even Erwin had achieved something like that.

"I can help. I promise it will only help with the pain."

As much as he hated it, it wasn't as if he had much of a choice.

"All you had to do was ask."

Helping him with his exercises didn't take more than half an hour. Levi was a perfectionist and you knew it. He wasn't doing it to get the pain to go away but to prove to himself that he was in charge of his body. All of his life consisted of constantly proving something to himself.

"Are you planning on nagging me about it?" He reached out for the hot cup of tea you had prepared for him with a sigh.

"Maybe." You replied with a smile.

He had made much more of a progress than you had imagined. Not once had you imagined you'd see him finally relax his shoulders and lean back on the couch comfortably, holding his cup of tea in his peculiar way.

"Go on then."

It would take much more time to completely open up to you, let you provide him with proper comfort but for now and for the past few weeks, he was fine with you talking his ear out. It kept him mind off the pain and in one way or another it felt more comforting than the warm cup of tea he was holding.

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abiatackerman · 5 months

Text

Too Late

Warnings: Angst, character death.

You knock on Levi's room while your heart is beating loudly with excitement and nervousness.

Today you're here to confess your love to him.

You love him a lot! Crazily! So madly that if he insults you even a little, you wanna cry like hell. Maybe he understands that because you noticed he doesn't act rough or rude around you. Not to mention he always inspects if you're getting a proper meal three times a day, getting enough sleep, maintaining cleanliness and all... Also he always seems to save you whenever you're in danger.

These things gave you hope because he never does these things with anyone else but you. Maybe he likes you? Maybe he'll accept your feelings? Because you don't know what'll you do if he rejects you.

"Name and business!"

You are pulled out of your thoughts when you hear his rough voice. You speak nervously as always.

"Y/N, captain. Need to discuss something with you."

"Come in and make it quick!"

He replies calmly as you enter his room. He's sitting on his chair, doing paperwork. He's looking handsome as always. In your eyes he's always handsome.... You gulp nervously as Levi looks directly at your face and you start speaking as clearly as you can.

"Captain, I just wanted to thank you for being caring towards me and for always protecting me...."

You look at him as you try to speak those three words but they won't just come out of your damn mouth. You're too nervous.

"I'm just doing my duty. Are you finished? If you're, then leave."

He says calmly and looks back into the papers as you gulp again. You feel your heart clenches a bit to his rude reply. So you take a deep breath and speak bluntly and quickly.

"Captain, I love you."

Levi's hand pauses on the paper as he slowly looks up at you. You try to search for some emotions in his face. But there are none. He's looking nonchalant as always. You feel nervous as hell as his lips move. You wanna run away. You don't wanna hear the words....

"Y/N, we're in a middle of a war, fighting for humanity. Our hearts are dedicated to humanity, not to some particular person. I've noticed you're a soft person so I decided to act kindly towards you because I hate tantrums and unnecessary problems. But it seems like you took my kindness into something else. I didn't expect that from you and I definitely don't appreciate it."

You flinch as you feel your eyes immediately tear up. You don't want to sob in front of him or even cry.... But you can't just stop.

"Did you not..... Ever.... Felt anything towards me?"

You ask as your head is hung low and tears keep falling shamelessly on your cheeks. You somehow manage to stop your sobs because you were always the type who cries silently.

"I don't like to repeat myself. I have told you, you took my kindness into something else."

You flinch again as you nod. You take your steps back.

"I'm sorry for wasting your precious time, captain. It won't happen again, I promise."

You say in a broken voice as you leave the room, closing it behind you.

Time skip

Levi clicks his tongue in frustration as he looks around for you. The expedition has ended and the scouts have temporarily been on a spot near the walls just to count the dead bodies and take a note of the missing peoples.

Levi feels his heart beating loudly as he can't find your face anywhere. During the expedition and due to the appearance of some abnormal titans the formation was broken and Levi lost you.

You weren't under his wings, his protection who knows what happened to you? He can't think of your death... He can't! He can't lose you.

"Levi! We have found Y/N"

He immediately looks at Erwin as he hears his voice but flinches. He doesn't like the look Erwin has on his face.

In this whole world only Erwin knows how much Levi loves you....

He glares at Erwin as Erwin looks at him sympathetically. Levi knows the news is bad.

"Don't give me that shitty look Erwin."

Levi hisses and walks towards the place where the new rows of dead bodies are being laid down. He immediately notices yours.... How can't he? You silky soft hair which he always loved is propping out of the white sheet which is covering your body.

He slowly walks towards your body as he kneels down and removes the white sheet from your face. You're laying comfortably, with your eyes closed. It's like you're just sleeping comfortably in your barracks when he would just sneak into your room to check up on you.

But why is he's eyes tearing up? No... He definitely isn't the type of person to cry... Then why his tears are falling on your sleeping face?

Maybe because he has realised that he won't ever have the chance to tell you how much he loves you? Because he won't be able to apologise to you, explaining why he rejected you....

He won't be able to tell you that he thought you two still had enough time. He thought you were safe under his wings and he'll protect you until he'll get the chance to propose to you. He won't be able to tell you how much he dreamt of marrying you, having children with you, spending his whole life with you...

He won't be able to tell you anything....

He covers your face with the sheet as he stands up. His face is stoic and cold and there's no signs of tears in his eyes. He's face is still the same as before as he walks towards his horse.

He never regretted his decision.... But sure as hell, he's regretting rejecting you and he always will....

He wishes he could just accept your feelings and tell you how crazily he loves you.

But it's too late now.

Too late to let you know how he feels.... Too late to save you.......

#levi ackerman #levi aot #levi heichou #captain levi #levi x fem!reader #levi x y/n #levi x reader #levi x you #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x female reader #levi oneshot #angst #aot fanfiction #levi fanfiction #levi angst #attack on titan #aot #snk

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seeingivy · 6 months

Text

better than revenge

actor!eren x f!reader

**part of my method acting fic

previous part linked here

an: this is 11k and tweets on tweets. buckle in. if you find the typo in the tweets shut up

songs mentioned: see you again by tyler the creator ft. kali uchis, end game by taylor swift, and vampire by olivia rodrigo

The following morning, the buzzing energy in the townhouse is almost palpable. Not only because you’ve finally completed the set and the last four people have arrived – Erwin, Bertholdt, Ymir, and Historia – but it seems that your intense energy from the night prior seemed to have transferred over to everyone else.

You’re almost too embarrassed to walk downstairs to the frantic chatter – that coupled with the fact that you’ve heard Connie name drop you almost four times – and it seems that Eren seems to be feeling the same when you walk out into the hallway to find him awkwardly lingering by his door.

“Hey.”

Eren looks up, thrown out of his spiral of thoughts, as he gives you a smile and then looks down at your lip. It’s a little sore, the tiniest bit swollen from the tattoos that you got yesterday, and you can see that his is the same.

“Hi princess. How’s your lip?” Eren asks.

“Good. I guess I should be thankful that your name is only four letters and not nine letters like Bertholdt or something.”

Eren smiles.

“Let’s see it then.” Eren responds.

You oblige his request, pulling down to show him the inner of your lip and watch as he smiles at the little ink. He follows suit after, making a rather dramatic display of crouching down to your height before pulling his own lip and showing you his.

“You know, life really does imitate art. Because now, my name really will be forever on your lips.” you respond.

“I sure hope not. You’d be slashing my head off sometime in the near future if that were true.”

You smile.

“You know, that doesn’t sound that bad to me.”

“But you have to kiss me after. You know, if it were up to me, I think life should imitate art. Like at least ten times, for scientific purposes.” Eren responds, shrugging as he gestures for you to follow him.

You shake your head, inexplicably unable to respond to the harmless flirting this time around, as you gesture for him to join you downstairs. The two of you walk in tandem down the steps, sparing each other one last smile, before you get hounded by the likes of Connie and Jean.

And surely enough, the second you make it down to the kitchen and the dining table at the side, you’re met with the sight of Connie air-playing fan edits on the TV screen for everyone to watch.

You and Eren take the spot behind Connie on the couch, and Eren smacks him on the backside of his head, before you two watch the edit. It’s of Eren singing Glimpse of Us in the background, except the video’s edited to be showing videos of him and Hyla, before juxtaposing them with videos of him and you.

“Speak of the fucking devils. Don’t tell me you actually got matching lip tattoos? I’m half convinced you assholes are just lying to piss me off at this point.” Connie asks.

The two of you look over and grin at each other.

“Why are you watching fancams of us on the TV?” you ask.

“Edit accounts are a form of art. Look at this one.” Connie responds, sliding to the next video on his phone.

This one is in a similar vein, videos of you and Eren from the red carpet to the backdrop of you singing Style. You’re not sure what it is, but the video fills you with an insurmountable amount of joy, especially when Connie scrolls up the comments – most of them being about how people can’t stand how Eren seems to look at you.

“Connie. Why have you watched this entire YouTube video?” Eren asks, pointing to the little thumbnail at the side.

You follow the line of vision to where he’s pointing to an hour long video, entitled “eren and y/n creating love for an hour straight.”

“There’s no way you watched that entire thing.” you respond.

“Watched it? Bitch, I recorded half of those videos for Y/N-Jaegers back in the day. Please put some respect on my name.” Connie sneers, as he leans forward to put the video on.

You turn to Eren, as the gears start turning in your head. You can tell that he’s following your lead – in fact, thinking the same exact thing as you – as you discuss it over.

“I mean, kind of makes sense. S’how we did it the first time.” Eren responds.

“I’d argue that it’s almost poetic to do it the same way. Plus, the resurgence of Y/N-Jaegers would be crazy, just for PR sake.”

“I agree.”

Eren reaches forward, yanking on Connie’s ear to catch his attention. He leans back, before swatting Eren off, and standing to face the two of you.

“Do you have your phone, Connie?” Eren asks.

“Yeah.” Connie responds.

“Then, use it.” Eren responds.

You give him a grin, waiting for Connie – who albeit, in his confusion lifts his phone – before you both pull down your lips and show off your new tattoos. You watch as Connie’s eyes nearly boggle out of head as he moves closer to the two of you, his excited voice filling the entire room as the group of them all start huddling around you.

Mai and Mikasa look positively appalled, quietly whispering about how painful that must have been, while Reiner and Sasha break out into their own side tangent about how oppressive lip tattoos must be since they limit your food options so greatly.

You and Eren laugh as you shuffle back into the kitchen, leaving the group of them to their devices as Connie uploads the video, and the two of you reach for the yogurt in the fridge. The piping hot, spicy ramen seemed like it was just going to burn your entire lip off, so you decided against that for today.

You lean forward to read the little schedule on the fridge, though the filming is considerably light for the week. Considering the fact that almost everyone was here now, or arriving within the next hour, you were going into serious rehearsals for the ensemble showcase that you had planned. Though you were really only in it for one verse.

Wednesday, March 27th, 10:00

Eren and Y/N - REDACTED #1

You frown.

“What the hell is redacted number one?”

Eren spins to the side, crouching down so his chin is just hovering over your shoulder. And the fact that he lowers his voice, to the gravelly octave, makes the hair on your arms stand up on its ends.

“Levi not talk to you about this yet?”

“No. We’re too busy talking about award show stuff. You know how he loves to lecture.”

Eren looks over at you, his eyes borderline smoldering, as you can’t help but look away. It was getting harder and harder to look at Eren after your godforsaken realization last night.

“From what I hear, what they’re lecturing you about is actually very valid.” Eren responds.

You scoff.

“You know, they’re so annoying. I’d appreciate it if they kept my conversations with them as private as they keep their conversations with you.” you respond.

“Well, they were actually trying to get me to convince you to not use your triple threat performance on me. Not when you’re already performing twice that day, with me at the centerpoint.” Eren responds.

When you had first pitched your idea for the awards show to them – and humbly begged them to give their ensemble showcase moment up to include the Jujutsu Kaisen cast – you had let them know that your intentions were from the get go.

And when Eren had created the perfect segway for them with the song requests, Hange had slipped theirs in a week prior with maybe the most difficult request that you had been given yet.

write a song about danny and sareen

And even more than just writing it, Hange had made it very clear that they were expecting you to sing it at the award’s show at the end when you finally got to do your triple threat performance. That you couldn’t sing another song about Eren, when winning that award, was always going to be about them.

Hange’s more theatrical than Levi. Because Levi just gave you the cue card that they have read off of that night, that had your name on it. But Hange had gone the full ten miles and given you the little trophy that you never even got to hold, with the note that came attached from the Institute.

You can still see it now in the dull, gold looping.

Dear Y/N, Danny, and Sareen, Congratulations on your accomplishment! Included in the box is the trophy and a golden glass case to display it in. Please call the offices on Glass Avenue to discuss timings for interviews and your performance at one of our four award shows next year. Best, The Institute

And annoyingly enough – despite the fact that it was your name on the trophy, their names were inscribed on the box.

It was enough to irritate you into writing the song that Hange wanted you to sing. And at this point, you were itching to give them a run for their money too.

“They didn’t need you to convince me. I gave in eventually.” you respond.

Eren shrugs, before dipping his own spoon into your yogurt. Eren had instinctively given up the last strawberry one because it’s your favorite, but clearly, wasn’t very attached to his decision.

“I just don’t understand why you wouldn’t want to make it about Danny and Sareen in the first place.” Eren responds.

You shrug, leaning against the back of the fridge. The metal is cold on your back, as you let the freezing cold yogurt soothe the burning in your mouth.

“Well, I only came back here for Marco. Because he won’t ever get to act again. Then when I started to do this, I was only doing it for you – because you did it for me first.” you respond.

“And now?”

“I thought back to what Historia had said to me, when she finally dragged me out of that house the first time. She had brought up Hange’s speech, the one way back when that made me even interested in acting in the first place. About showing the real you and all that.” you respond.

“And?” Eren asks.

“Well, Hange brought that up to me, when I originally said I wanted the third song to be about you. Not that you’re not important to me, but…being a triple threat was what I always wanted. And really at the core of it, I just wanted to be as unapologetic as Hange was. I guess when they put it that way, it was almost stupid not to make the song about them when they’re the one who got to take the sanctity of that award away from me.”

Eren smiles. And before he can respond, you’re tackled by two pairs of arms nearly strangling you around your neck, your line of vision telling you that Eren’s experiencing the same bombardment. Ymir and Bertholdt are shaking his entire frame and jumping at his side – and your ears don’t deceive you when you hear Historia and Erwin bellowing in your ear.

You pull back, wrapping your hands around Historia’s face.

“You crazy bitch. Don’t tell me you actually got a fucking tattoo again?” Historia asks.

You grin, pulling down your lip to show the group of them.

“Well, I’d be a fucking liar if I said that.” you respond.

Erwin, in his theatrics, places a hand over his chest and the other one on the top of your head.

“That’s my girl. Always had such a sound moral compass.” Erwin responds.

You can’t help but wrap your arms around him as Erwin lifts his hand and gestures for Eren to join him at the other side. He still smells the same – the lingering scent of Old Spice deodorant and a very husky perfume. And when he pulls back, you can’t help but feel your heart squelch when he puts a hand on both of your cheeks and beams down at you two.

“You’ve always been our little trail blazers, you two. I’m so proud of you two.”

You turn to Eren and smile, before looking back at Erwin.

“We’re proud of you too, Erwin!” Eren responds.

You turn your head to the side, giving Eren a confused look.

“Don’t flatter me, Eren. I’m not above crying in front of you children.” Erwin responds.

“I’m offended you would even think that, Erwin. Don’t you know who I am?” Eren responds.

You shake your head as you turn towards Ymir and Bertholdt at your side and leave Eren and Erwin to hype each other up for what was probably going to be the next thirty minutes at your side. You had already given up trying to understand Eren and Erwin’s relationship years prior.

“Hey, kid.” Ymir says.

“I’m older than you.” you respond.

“Yeah, yeah whatever. I have someone I want you to meet.” Ymir responds.

You follow her line of vision to the opening of the kitchen, to find someone lingering against the frame of the door. There’s a girl standing there, with tan skin and a short pixie cut – nervously knitting her fingers together. She’s smiling at you, rather brightly, and you can't help but feel like you’ve met her before.

“Y/N. This is Sofia, my fiance. Sofia, this is Y/N.” Ymir states, gesturing for the two of you to shake hands.

You oblige, her hand warm and the shake firm, as you try to hide the shock in your face. With the rush of everything that was going on, the information that Mikasa had shared with you days prior had been floating around in the back of your mind but you were never able to ask Eren to put it to rest.

And now there was another lingering question mark hanging.

That Ymir had proposed to Historia, but that she said no. That she begged her and Historia couldn’t bring herself to do it. But even despite that, they were still sleeping on the same mattress when you came back for the first time, for Marco’s funeral.

And now she’s engaged to someone else.

“Hi Sofia. My name is Y/N. It’s really nice to meet you.”

Her eyes light up as she squeezes your hand, which you now realize is still locked in with hers, as you look back up at her and smile.

“It’s really nice to meet you too.” she responds.

“You know, you look really familiar, but I can’t exactly place why.” you murmur.

You look to your side to find Ymir grinning at Sofia, as Sofia can’t help but groan in response.

“I told you she would remember you.” Ymir states.

“That doesn’t count as remembering me! A lot of people can look familiar to people!” Sofia responds.

You smile, rubbing your palms together, as you look at the two of them. The thought of Historia a few feet away talking to Jean and Mikasa has you sweating, nervously passing your eyes over just to make sure that she wasn’t watching the entire interaction go down.

“Have I met you before?” you ask.

Sofia sighs, the slightest pink tint in the apples of her cheeks.

“This is so embarrassing. I met you and Eren a couple years back, at one of those conventions with the panels and stuff and –”

The recognition is instant.

“Oh my god! You were wearing a shirt with my face on it! With your sister, right?” you respond.

“I fucking told you she would remember! She has really good memory.” Ymir responds, this time goading her on.

You shake your head at Ymir, before placing your hands on both of her biceps and squeezing.

“Sofia, wait. I really remember that because it actually meant the world to me at the time. I’m sure you…know about Scott Clarkson and all that mess and –”

“I want that man dead and I’m so serious.” Sofia deadpans.

You laugh.

“You and me, both. But yeah, that day was actually the first time that Eren and I had ever met him in person. And the entire event in general was just so uncomfortable and left a weird taste in my mouth and you…you really made me feel like I was doing something important and I actually thought about it for a really long time.” you respond.

Sofia smiles, before she reaches forward and wraps her arms around you. The embrace is overwhelmingly warm, as you eye Ymir behind her back, who's just shaking her head at her demeanor, almost insinuating that this was what she did all the time.

“I’m really glad. I really meant what I said back then and I’ve always been a big supporter all this time. You’re really brave and courageous and –” Sofia stars.

“Okay, Sof. Enough. You’re going to make poor Y/N’s head bigger than it already is.” Ymir groans, as you turn back to your side.

“That’s really sweet of you. How is your sister?” you ask.

You’re not sure what it is, but it’s almost like you’ve thrown ice on the little warmth that was pooling in the conversation. Because her face slightly droops and Ymir’s quick to put a hand on her shoulder in comfort.

“Ah. She passed away a few years ago.” Sofia mumbles.

“Oh my gosh. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to bring that up and –”

She smiles, enough to give you the faintest glimpse of her dimples. They remind you of Eren.

“That’s okay. That’s actually where I met Ymir. At the grief group.” she responds.

“You went to a grief group?” you ask.

“Well, not originally. I was there with a friend, a while before Marco died. Met her there. We were already dating when Marco passed away, but…we just figured it wasn’t the best idea for Sofia to come to the funeral with…you know. Historia.” Ymir responds.

So why did she sleep with Historia on the mattress?

“I’m glad you’re here with us now. It’s really nice to meet you. And I love weddings, if Ymir can humble herself enough to invite me to hers.” you respond.

“Shut up, bitch. You’re so annoying.” Ymir responds.

That’s what she says. But it sounds more like are you crazy? Of course, you’re invited.

“Anyways, I hope you come to set later. Eren and I are going to be filming something if you want to watch.”

“For sure. I’d love to see it.” Sofia responds.

You look over your shoulder to find Levi, Hange, and Eren waiting near the edge of the kitchen island, gesturing for you to come over now that you’ve caught their attention. And as the four of you embark out towards the set, Levi explains what redacted scenes are to you.

You spare Historia one last glance as you walk off the set and can’t help but feel a bitter taste in your mouth at the longing look she’s giving Ymir.

“You know, this sounds an awful lot like method acting to me.” you murmur, spotting the sly grin on Levi’s face.

“Eren told me not to call it that. He said you might strangle me. Or him. Or both of us combined.”

“He would be right about that.” you respond.

He’s leaning against the edge of the vanity, as the makeup team tasks themself with drying and prepping your hair to perfection, while Levi coaches you through what you now understand are the two redacted scenes that Levi has asked you and Eren to film.

You just think it’s lazy script writing. Levi thinks you’re annoying for calling it that.

With your combined permission of course, Levi has decided to let you method act through the two scenes that he originally had planned out. While he was allegedly entirely faithful in your ability to deliver lines, he wanted to see if what the two of you could produce out of real shock, in the moment as your characters, was something better than what he could write.

Hence, the vague scene that you and Eren were going to be filming. To your understanding, the pair of them were each going to give you and Eren a set of prompts and you were just supposed to act your way through the scene based on what they told you to do.

“Can I know my prompt then?” you ask.

“You understand, right?” Levi clarifies.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m just supposed to go based on what you tell me.”

Levi hops off of the counter, this time leaning closer so that you can actually make eye contact with him in your line of vision.

“But really. I don’t care how badly you want to say something else. You…you have to go based on the direction that I tell you.” Levi responds.

It’s almost annoying, the way he’s coddling you through the entire thing.

“Okay, I get it. This is my entire job, you know?” you respond.

Levi scoffs.

“Fine. Eren’s going to ask you something. I want you to shoot him down.” Levi states.

You lean your head to the side, much to the annoyance of the makeup artist, who moves your neck back into place. You shoot her an apologetic smile, before thinking back to Levi.

“You want me to shoot him down?” you ask.

“He’s going to ask you something. Or insinuate it – and no matter how badly you want to do whatever it is, you have to tell him no.”

Levi gives you a curt nod before he walks back out to the set to put things in place, as you put the outfit resting on the hangar on. You reach up to mess with the little fringe of your bangs, pulling down the undershirt and the jacket as you prepare yourself for the scene.

When you walk out on set, the group of them are all sitting on the sidelines, giving you excited smiles. You give Sofia a little wave at the front of the sidelines, returning the little finger hearts that Gabi and Falco point towards you as you reach for your cue.

And when Levi calls action, the lights on the entire set dimming and the chatter breaking down to silence, you can feel your heart pounding in your chest as you see Eren at the top of the little landing, his back facing towards you.

“Eren! Everyone has been looking everywhere for you!”

At the sound of your voice, Eren lifts his hand to his face and sniffles, almost like he’s wiping away tears, before you stand at his side. He refuses to meet your eyes and now that you’re standing at his side, you’re not sure how you missed this before.

They cut Eren’s hair.

A small part of it – because it’s out of the usual man bun that he’s been sporting since you came back to set and instead loosely frames the sides of his face.

It might be your favorite look yet. And all you can do is stare.

He still refuses to meet your eye, withholding it from you. You follow his gaze to the bottom of the landing, to see the kid that Levi had introduced you to a week prior, who was going to play Ramzi in the script. You had yet to film the scene – since you’re almost positive that Levi was going out of order at this point to save time and note it.

“The boy from the market? What happened?” you ask.

“Nothing yet.” Eren responds.

Eren’s voice has that same gravel, almost hollow, like he did the day that you filmed the table scene. It’s almost haunting when his voice sounds like that – so devoid of motion and strained that it makes your chest pang.

You wonder if that’s what he sounded like in the years that you didn’t talk.

“What do you mean? Wh-what is this place?” you ask.

“After the war left them with no home, they all gathered here to live. They’re just like us.”

Eren’s throat bobs at your side and you can feel his eyes clenching in your peripheral vision.

“One day, their regular lives ended and everything was taken away from them. They were deprived of all of their freedoms.” Eren states.

And almost in a split second, Eren finally averted his gaze from looking down and meets your eyes for the first time. You’re not sure what it is – surely something from the makeup team that’s making his eyes look fuller, rounder – but the eye contact is almost excruciating this time. Your first instinct is to turn away.

“Y/N. Why do you care so much about me?”

You can feel your cheeks burning. That was the last thing you were expecting him to say.

“Huh?” you repeat.

“Is it because I saved you when we were little? Or is it because I’m your family?”

You swallow hard, the block in your throat stifling. It’s almost like you can’t even push air out of it, like you’re opening your mouth to try and nothing can make it past – enough to fill you with a panic like you won’t ever speak again. Because you have the faintest inkling of what’s going to come next…why Levi was so adamant on asking if you would be able to follow his instructions.

“I-”

“What am I to you?” Eren asks.

Everything.

It’s the first word that comes to mind when he asks.

“Ev–”

You pause, as you feel the sweat accumulating on the edge of your hairline, fighting the urge to reach up to wipe it off. Levi’s voice is excruciating in your head.

He’s going to ask you something. Or insinuate it – and no matter how badly you want to do whatever it is, you have to tell him no.

It’s almost painful. Having to say it when it isn’t true. When in reality, you know that you’re acting and Eren knows that you’re acting too – that this is just part of your job. But to even strike him down in the fake way, after weeks of building it back together, seems cruel.

You sigh, shutting your eyes and taking a deep breath, before you look back up at his eyes. The deep green is enough to accumulate the thinnest film of tears in your eyes.

“You’re family, Eren.”

And after you mutter it, it’s visceral…an almost physical reaction from Eren. Because you can see the way his breath hitches, the way he hesitantly steps back – quite literally physically recoiling. And the regret sits heavy in your chest and you have to drop your eyes – because you can’t even bear to look at him.

“Cut!” Levi calls.

It’s enough to snap you out of the heaviness, as you shake your head at the resounding amount of chatter that follows. You can still feel your heart racing as the makeup team is quick to rush to your side – quickly powdering the sweat that had accumulated on your cheek as they do the same with Eren – and you can hear Connie and Reiner mumbling about how brutal that was to watch on the side.

You look back up at Eren, whose hollow look hasn’t left his eyes and you give him a halfhearted smile – which he doesn’t return. Instead, he turns back to Levi and Hange, who are murmuring over the shot in the viewfinder.

“Did we get it?” Eren nearly shouts.

“We got it. You killed it guys.” Levi responds, still fixated on the shot.

“Do you still need me or can I go?” Eren asks.

“Eren–”

“You’re good, Eren.” Hange responds.

Eren’s almost too quick with it, the way he yanks the little mic pack off the little sleeve in his jacket and hands it to the crew. And with his long bean stalk legs, he’s disappeared from your side before you can barely even process that he was standing there in the first place.

You can’t bring yourself to talk to Eren until two days later, on the eve of his birthday and two days before the award show. Not because you’re actively avoiding him, but it seems that he gets so wrapped up in quite literally everything else he has to attend to. Though really, it feels like that the slight air of comfort that you had was completely shattered by filming the scene together.

There’s a quiet knock on Eren’s door. He’s preemptively pissed off…and the quiet irritation that had been festering in his chest for the last few days was about to come to a head on Connie and Lana, who refused to take a hint.

He had made it infinitely clear that he wanted to spend the early hours of his birthday alone. That he would be fine and dandy to celebrate with everyone the day after, but he needed the time to process some things alone.

The tension diffuses when he realizes that it’s you at the door. There’s an almost timid look on your face, as you balance a little white box in your hands, and peek your head past the closet.

“Am I disturbing you?”

“No, of course not. Come in.” Eren responds, patting flat on the comforter for you to join him at his side.

You give him a smile as you set the little box down, crossing your legs over each other to sit at his side. You lock your hands into the pits of your knees as you turn over towards him, taking a second chance to admire that his hair is the slightest bit shorter.

“I really love your hair, Eren.” you respond.

There’s an immediate flush in the apples of his cheeks. He reaches up to it, nervously pushing a hand through the strands before he drops it all together.

“Thank you. The length was starting to get really fucking annoying.” Eren responds.

“I liked the man-bun but I think this type of thing really suits you.” you respond.

Eren looks over at you and gives you a halfhearted smile. And that quiet ease returns, maybe faster than Eren would have liked. The quiet moment of hurt that he was holding on to was absolved the second you smiled at him.

Eren can hear Connie’s voice in his head – calling him down horrendous.

“What can I do you for?” Eren asks.

“It’s almost your birthday.” you state.

“Congratulations, Y/N. You know how to read a calendar!”

You scoff, before lightly shoving him in his side.

“Shut up. I wanted to do something for you.” you respond, before lightly pushing the box in front of him.

Eren gives you a weary look, before he opens up the little box. It’s a frosted green and white cake – with four candles in it. It’s a strange arrangement since they’re all numbered candles, making the number 2,345.

“I guess I stand corrected. You really don’t know how to read a calendar.” Eren responds.

Eren turns to the side, with the most annoying look on his face, as he turns to you and grins.

“Okay, Y/N. Repeat after me. The year is 2024.”

“Shut up, asshole. I was trying to be sweet.” you grumble, as you hike your knees to your chest.

Eren rolls his eyes.

“What’s so sweet about getting the age wrong on my cake?” Eren asks.

“It’s actually to make up for every birthday of yours that I missed, dumbass.” you respond.

Eren can feel his heart pounding in his chest.

“What?” Eren asks.

You shrug, before reaching down to adjust the candles from pushing into each other.

“The last birthday I got to spend with you was your twenty-second birthday. I can imagine that the years’ that followed weren't exactly pleasant…that…that they might have been a reminder of what happened on the beach.” you start.

That was the understatement of the year.

“And it’s my fault that I missed your birthday. So, I thought that…we could make them up now. Hence the candles for three and four, for your twenty-third and twenty-fourth birthday. And today’s your twenty-fifth…it’s the least that I could do.” you respond.

Eren thinks it’s rather unfair that he always seems to be at a loss of words when he’s with you. Instead of being able to spill out what was really racketing through his brain – that it was getting infinitely harder to swallow down his feelings, that this was almost melting the resolve that he had made with himself to let you make the first move – he opens up his arms instead.

You oblige, leaning forward and resting your chin against his shoulder, as you feel Eren scoop his arms around your waist. It’s almost like he’s resting his entire body weight on you, because you can feel his face digging into the softness of your neck, as you absentmindedly reach up for his hair, feeling the edges that were just freshly cut. The faint scent of the hairdressing spray still lingers.

He’s quiet for sometime, but it’s only fitting that when he does break the silence, it’s with something annoying.

“A cake with no plates is crazy, Y/N.” Eren mumbles.

You laugh, as you reach inside the box for the two forks you tucked inside the box. You hand him one, as he tucks the ends of his hair behind his ears, and looks up at you.

“Game plan. You eat all the frosting and I’ll eat all the cake.” Eren states.

“Huh?”

“Okay, that’s a little selfish. But it’s my birthday. And I just really hate frosting.”

The thought that comes to your mind is enough to startle you, just in the slightest.

Eren really is your soulmate.

It’s stupid. A stupid comparison to make when the person that you’re comparing him to is Ricky James of all people. But you can’t help but think about that stupid memory, from before the Met Gala. Ricky had bought you that stupid cupcake – and very irritatingly swiped the frosting off of your finger.

And the two of you bickered because you both preferred the frosting as opposed to the actual cake. And naturally, Ricky was never going to be the type to give up his frosting for you.

It was sweet that way, with Eren. And you’re sure that the thought of invisible strings and single threads of gold tying you to Eren are really only on your mind because that’s what you sang to him the last time you got to spend his birthday with him, but it almost seems too perfect.

That Eren likes the cake, but you like the frosting. That you’d always finish the cake if you were eating it together.

Unbeknownst to you of course, Eren is fully aware of the fact that you are overly fond of the frosting on the cake. And that you have no idea that he really hates eating the spongy cake part and prefers the frosting too.

But he doesn’t like the frosting nearly enough to not even think twice before offering it to you.

You only grace the red carpet for five minutes. You and Eren are above that at this point. But from what you were able to discern from Twitter backstage, after practicing your first set with Eren, it was eventful enough without you there.

Sukuna splashed a glass of wine in Ricky’s already swollen eye from last week. Hyla tripped and fell when she got out of the limo. You and Eren spend a good amount of time reading through the stuff on your feed – and the perfectly timed blind items that you had submitted to every paparazzi company but the WBS were coming out just as you planned them.

And surely enough, every single one of them was getting caught off guard when they were asked on the carpet – and couldn’t scramble a perfect PR response out.

There were three blind items that were yours and the rest were strays. And you were fully intent on making sure that everyone, Danny and Sareen, knew that it was you who submitted them by the end of the night.

First, that Ricky James had thrown an insanely murderous bitch fit at the front of the Institute Offices in New York when he found out that he had been replaced as the opening act, by Eren of all people.

Which, according to your sources, was true.

Second, that the producer for the critically acclaimed Ribbons album, Sareen Clarkson, had been cheating on her husband with industry plant John Stasny, who is twenty years her junior and had previously been linked to several famous actresses, like Historia Reiss.

Which was also true. It had only been a few hours since it had been leaked, but the shit train that followed wasn't pretty.

If you were going to call her a fame fucker, you were going to make sure that everyone was going to understand the reference.

And the third was that stupid magazine cover that Scott had mailed you and Eren.

This was seemingly the last pillar that had to fall in taking down Scott Clarkson and his empire – or at least putting the tiniest bit of a dent in it.

The only reason that the WBS was successful in the first place was the same reason that his label and movie company thrived the way they did – they were big enough to eliminate all the competition.

But when it came to something like a tabloid, that centered around reporting on drama, it was almost natural to take them down in this way. If they were the only ones that lacked the information, then they’d be the only ones who would drop the ball on reporting it – and therefore, people would have to divert their attention away to someone else to get the information.

The foundation seemed a bit bare, but you were already too far in to oppose it at this point.

You feel a little tap on your shoulder and you turn around to find the two people who were going to be accompanying you for your first performance.

The dopplegangers of you and Eren – from the Girlfriend and Because I Liked a Boy Performance.

“Hi guys!”

You reach forward and wrap your arms around both of them as they return the gesture and warmly hug back. Thankfully, they were more than happy to oblige with your second request – third for Penelope if you counted Girlfriend – to pretend to be you and Eren.

You almost felt bad for marking this as their legacy so many times, but they were more than happy to oblige – citing the free food and the hefty paychecks as more than enough compensation.

“Right, well. Eren, this is Penelope.” you state.

“Yeah. Yeah, we’ve met before. Hi.” Eren responds, the look on his face so painstakingly awkward that you almost feel bad for the prank that you’re about to play on him.

“And this is Scott.” you respond.

It’s insanely bad timing, since you accidentally mention it while Eren’s taking a swig of his water bottle. And due to the shock, he consequently spits the entire contents back into the bottle and gives the three of you wide eyes.

“Your name is fucking Scott?”

“No, it’s Jason. Y/N paid me three bucks to say that.” he states.

Eren looks at you, giving you a downright murderous glare, as he puts the water bottle down.

“You bitch.” Eren grumbles

“It’s funny!” you respond.

You shake him off as you turn back to Jason and Penelope and eye the little wardrobe rack on the side.

“Okay. Hair and makeup is ready for you two whenever you are. And just remember, that if anyone asks you about the outfits –”

“Mine is based on Selene, goddess of the moon.” Penelope states.

“And mine is Poseidon, god of the sea.” Jason adds.

You grin. The two of them give you a passing wave before they walk off to the other side of the stage and Eren makes a dramatic display of shuddering.

“What?”

“Don’t they like…freak you out?” Eren asks.

“Why would they freak me out?”

“They literally look like us! And they’re literally dating too which makes it even weirder!”

You give him a weird look.

“They aren’t dating.” you respond.

Eren wraps his arm around your shoulder, before twisting you to the side of where their dressing rooms are – where the two of them are standing, kissing.

“That looks really friendly to me.” Eren states, tone dripping with sarcasm.

“What the hell?”

“It’s weird!” Eren whispers.

You shiver.

“Ew. I don’t like that.” you respond.

“Levi should hire them to do the kiss next week instead of us. Sure, they’ll enjoy it more than we will.”

You can feel your cheeks burning. You know that it’s not what he meant – surely, that it couldn’t have been what he meant in the slightest but the sting still hits all the same.

“Jesus. Didn’t realize you were so opposed to kissing me.” you mumble.

Eren’s eyes go wide.

“I’m not opposed to kissing you!”

“You just suggested that Levi and Hange should literally offer a salary to two people who kind of look like us just so you wouldn’t have to kiss me.” you deadpan.

“No! I didn’t mean it like that!”

“Well…don’t be weird about it! You don’t have to…want to kiss me. I know we’re just working and that it’s all like method acting or whatever. I’m not going to get offended if you don’t want to it’s just–”

Eren looks agitated. If Sukuna was standing here, you know that he would have no self control and probably piss him off more by asking him if he needed to take a shit.

“Y/N, just listen. I just don’t want to make you uncomfortable because I wrote a kiss into the script and told Levi and Hange that they can’t write it out this time.” Eren responds.

And just as fast as his eyes go wide, his cheeks are bright pink this time as he suddenly busies himself with worrying about his costume to change the subject.

It’s a hopeful thought and you’re clearly speaking faster than you’re thinking. Because it’s probably against your better judgment to assume that he wrote the kiss in just because he wanted to kiss you.

You say it anyway.

“You wrote the kiss into the script?” you ask, giving him a grin.

“My costume seems like it’s going to be tight, right? It looks a little short at the legs? We should see if we can get this fixed in the next twenty minutes before we go on, so I don’t look like an idiot, you know?”

You place a hand on his shoulder, to stop him from bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet, and keep him standing on the ground.

“You can relax. I was just messing with you. And your outfit looks fine, I think we should change now so we can make sure I don’t go swinging into the audience with the equipment.”

Eren waits for you to finish changing before you walk over to the little makeshift hang-glider that you guys requested. He chooses to ignore commenting about how much he loves it when you wear red for the time being and focuses on making sure you don’t plummet to your imminent death from the moon you’re going to be hanging off of.

Eren watches as you shuffle on the little seat, before he reaches around you and secures the little belt around your waist. You watch as he tightens it not only twice, but three times, before he reaches for your hand and secures the microphone around it next.

“You know, I understand securing me to the moon but I think the microphone is a little much. I’m not going to go dropping it.”

“I’m sorry for being overcautious. I’m not a big fan of…stints that include hanging in the air for so long.” Eren responds, as tightens the strap around your hand again.

You pale. Of course he hates these type of things.

“No. No…I’m sorry. I totally forgot about that…I-I didn’t even realize that this might be really nerve wracking for you. We can take this part out if–”

“No, no. I like the set design. How about you just promise to come back to me in one piece?” Eren asks.

You sigh.

“Of course.”

And Eren gives you a gleaming, two dimpled smile in response, before he taps your side and walks over to his cue. As they send your little glider into the air, you can actually see the entire audience from the little break in the curtains at the top – and can spot a very annoyed Ricky James sitting front and center.

With pink wine stains on his shirt.

You look down at Eren, who looks up from his spot, and spares you one last thumbs up before the music stats.

You have to give your props to Eren’s team for working out the set exactly as he wanted it. With the ocean on the left, you in the moon on the right, and Jason and Penelope doing their little slow dance on the beach in the middle.

Eren: You live in my dream state Relocate my fantasy I stay in reality You live in my dream state Any time I count sheep That's the only time we make up, make up You exist behind my eyelids, my eyelids Now I don't wanna wake up

Eren: 20-20, 20-20 vision Cupid hit me, cupid hit me with precision I wonder if you look both ways When you cross my mind (Yeah), I said, I said I'm sick of, sick of, sick of, sick of chasing You're the one that's always running through my daydream, I I can only see your face when I close my eyes

And surely enough, they lower you from your little vantage point behind the curtains to the bright flashing lights and the resounding cheers of the crowd – that are barely muffled out by your ear pieces – as you sing your part.

Y/N: Can I get a kiss? And can you make it last forever? I said I'm 'bout to go to war And I don't know if I'ma see you again

As Eren sings his second verse, they’re quick to lift the moon back up and off the stage in time for you to climb off – and for you and Eren to replace Jason and Penelope on the beach in the center.

You and Eren hadn’t really practiced this part, though in hindsight it was simple enough. You just had to keep leaning in until they dimmed the lights – to make it look like you and Eren were going to kiss each other.

Y/N: Can I get a kiss? (Can I get a kiss?) And can you make it last forever? (Oh, forever) I said I'm 'bout to go to war (Go to war) I don't know if I'ma see you again (See you again) Can I get a kiss? (Can I) And can you make it last forever? (Can you) I said I'm 'bout to go to war ('Bout to) And I don't know if I'ma see you again

It’s excruciating to do it. To pretend – and in that second, you decide you’re going to kiss him anyways. Because he wraps his hand too perfectly around your neck to pull you closer and instinctively closes his eyes.

And then it’s overwhelmingly embarrassing. Because the exact second you time moving forward is when Eren leans back, because they’ve pulled the curtains. And runs off to the side curtains, as you awkwardly stalk back.

You try to swallow down that pit of shame in your throat as he turns back towards you, handing you an ice cold water bottle.

“That was great! But was it really hot up there? Your face is all pink.” Eren asks.

“Uh, yeah. I kind of had a panic up there.”

Eren twists the cap off and instructs you to drink, biting cold enough to taper that burning heat in your cheeks, as he instinctively shakes his head.

“I said come back in one piece.”

“I am in one piece.” you grumble back, getting ready to go stalk off to your dressing room until you had to face him again four performances later.

Eren doesn’t follow when you make it all the way to the little room, as you lean back in the chair and resort to massaging your temples.

Too close. That was way too close.

“Hey?” Eren asks.

You can see Eren poking his head into your dressing room, bright green eyes curious as he looks down at you.

“What?” you ask.

“The answer is yes.” Eren responds.

You glare, in irritation.

“To what?”

Eren bends down, pressing a kiss right into the thrumming pulse of your temple.

“You asked me if you could get a kiss. Well really, you asked me seven times if you could get a kiss, but I’ll spare you the entire show.” Eren responds, tapping the frame of the door and giving you a bright smile before he steps back out.

You sigh. The quiet moment of hurt that you were holding on to was absolved the second he smiled at you. And multiplied into the biggest, searing feeling in your chest when he kissed you.

There’s seven people in your dressing room after the fact. And one of them is Satoru Gojo, who counted as an additional ten people, which is when you take the sign that it’s probably time to duck out of there.

You had three options – Connie and Eren who were having way too much fun with your special props, a group that had both Historia and Ymir in it, or Sukuna – who was standing by himself in the corner.

There was a very obvious choice.

He gives you a noncommittal nod as you walk up to his side and link your arm in with his. He’s nursing a tiny glass in his hand, which he offers to you. You know him well enough by now to know that it’s going to be some taste buds descreating drink, but decide to drink anyway.

And surely enough, it burns all the way down to your esophagus, making you physically recoil as you hand the glass back to him.

“Jesus. I feel bad for your liver.” you respond.

“I actually don’t drink that much anymore. My liver is just fine.” Sukuna responds.

“There’s no way. That just destroyed like…a quarter of your lobule.”

“What the fuck is a lobule?”

“The functional unit of the liver!” you respond.

If looks could kill, Sukuna would have murdered you then and there. It’s at that moment that Eren and Connie run up to you, Eren quickly placing his hands on your cheeks to angle your face up towards him and place the little crown on your head.

“Très magnifique!” Eren murmurs.

“Wow. Who taught you French, Ratatouille?”

“Does that count as a self-diss? You taught me French, ma lune.”

You lightly shove him in the side, as everyone reaches for their cues on the stage and you crawl to the revolving stage underneath with Eren and Sukuna. And surely enough, Levi and Gojo delivered well on their promise with their prop guy.

He perfectly replicated that god forsaken throne Scott was sitting on in that stupid magazine cover. You snag the little crown Eren placed on your head off to admire the work on it – the gold handiwork. You place your hands in the middle and test the fragileness, noting that it takes little to crack the pieces – before you place it back on your head.

“So, who was on the right? Eren or Lana?” you ask.

“I was on the right.” Eren responds.

The group of you flinch as the music starts blaring above and take it as a sign to stick your earpieces in. And right on timing with the chorus, you can hear the screaming get louder – which you’re positive is people just overreacting to the fact that Gojo’s the first person in the ensemble showcase when he shouldn’t even be in it in the first place – and tap your hands nervously on the handles.

I wanna be your endgame I wanna be your first string I wanna be your A-Team (whoa-whoa, whoa) I wanna be your endgame, endgame

“Sukuna. There’s pins right there, there’s no way she’s not going to jostle the crown off before she hands it to Lana.”

“Got it.” Sukuna responds, shuffling away as you look back up to Eren.

He looks down at you, tucking your hair behind your ear, which has your heart pounding in your throat.

“Pretty dress.” Eren whispers.

You give him a shrug, before laying down the fringe at your sides.

“Nice suit.” you respond.

“Eh. It’s kind of digging into my neck.” Eren responds.

You stand up, rocking back on your heels, as you turn to face him. You reach forward, reaching for the top buttons of his dress shirt and task yourself with unbuttoning them.

“You know, you could at least take me on a date first.” Eren grumbles.

You hum in response, giving him a smile, as you stop at the third button and reach forward to readjust the layers of his necklaces. His skin is soft and warm underneath your fingertips and it gives you an insanely inappropriate thought.

“What are you thinking?” Eren murmurs.

“Nothing.”

“You’re thinking something naughty.”

“Ew. You have such a disgusting choice of words, Eren.” you whine.

“What was it?”

“Nothing, Eren. I was thinking about how pale you are.” you respond, letting go of the chains and reaching back to sit in your little chair.

Eren reaches forward, grabbing you by the wrist and pulling you back. He’s quick with his other hand, securing it around your waist and holding you steady against him. His lips hover right by your ear, the gravel of his whispering makes you nearly squirm.

“What were you thinking?” Eren asks.

“Nothing, Eren. Really.”

“I’m not an idiot. I’ve seen that look in your eyes before…and I know what it means. What were you thinking?” Eren asks.

You groan, squirming out of his embrace.

Where the hell did Sukuna get lost?

“I just thought about something that people would notice, that's all. But we don’t–”

“What was it?”

You groan, before tucking your hair behind your ears.

“I’m wearing red lipstick. And that’s a fairly…exposed patch of skin. People would notice if I–”

“If you kissed me. Alright, go ahead and do it then.” Eren responds, angling his neck closer to you.”

“Eren.”

“C’mon. It’s almost our turn. You have to be quick with it.” Eren responds, gesturing frantically with your hands.

You awkwardly step forward, placing your hands on the sides before you pinch your eyes shut and press a lingering kiss to his neck. You can feel Eren lightly tilt his head back and inhale sharply the second you make contact – but you chose to ignore it.

You pull back and examine the mark, though it’s rather faint. Eren clocks it fast enough, as he gestures with his hands again.

“Another one won’t hurt. C’mon.” Eren whispers.

“Okay, yeah.” you respond.

You press your lips to his neck again, this time earning you Eren’s hand squeezing into your side – where it was resting at your waist – as you pull back and admire the mark. You look back up at him, feeling an itching sensation all over as you give him an awkward smile.

“You guys are fucking insane, you know that?” Sukuna mutters.

“Sukuna! Where the fuck did you go?” you respond, angrily snatching the little pins from his hands and securing them into your hair.

You sit back down on the throne, as you hear the little countdown ringing in your ear, and prepare yourself to sing the last portion of the song. You can feel both of their hands on your shoulders – squeezing hard – as you lift the microphone to your lips.

Big reputation, big reputation Ooh, you and me, we got big reputations, ah And you heard about me, oh I got some big enemies (hey) Big reputation, big reputation (yeah) Ooh, you and me, we'd be a big conversation, ah And I heard about you, ooh You like the bad ones too

You rustle the crown off of your head and hand it to Sukuna, who walks over to the edge of the stage and tosses it right to Lana in the front row. Who takes it in her hands and breaks it in half before throwing it behind her back.

I hit you like, "Bang" We tried to forget it, but we just couldn't And I bury hatchets but I keep maps of where I put 'em Reputation precedes me, they told you I'm crazy I swear I don't love the drama, it loves me And I can't let you go, your handprint's on my soul It's like your eyes are liquor, it's like your body is gold You've been calling my bluff on all my usual tricks So here's the truth from my red lips

I wanna be your endgame (endgame) I wanna be your first string (me and you) (first string) I wanna be your A-Team (be your A-Team now) I wanna be your endgame, endgame I wanna be your endgame (oh, I do) I wanna be your first string (first string) I wanna be your A-Team (A-Team) I wanna be your endgame, endgame

The last part is the most nerve wracking. You had to abandon your sweet post of sitting in between Eren and Mikasa at your table for your last performance of the night – which was going to be announced by Danny and Sareen.

It’s like sitting on pins and needles, getting your hair done and slipping into the sparkly but scratchy dress. And surely enough, when you wait on the edges of the curtain and watch them stage your set – of a grand piano and little star decals – they join you at your side. You can feel your hands shake, nearly dropping the trophy in your hands, as you spare them a glance.

They’re shorter than you remember and frankly, less intimidating too. That coupled with the fact that Danny has a bright pink eye and the slightest bit of dried blood around his nose.

“What happened to your face?” you sneer.

Danny rolls his eyes.

“Ask your boy-toy.” he responds.

You fight the urge to smile, and make a mental note that Eren deserves every bit of your praise when you see him next, as you turn your head back to the stage, where the announcer is presenting the highlights of your career on the back screen. And surely enough, the two of them awkwardly jostle their arms in with yours as the three of you walk out together.

You stare blankly out in the audience. And refuse to smile.

You can see Eren sitting front and center as he gives you the smallest thumbs up in support.

“One of our crowning achievements is getting to work with this lovely young lady right here, on some of our most famous albums, like The Lucky One. Please give a well deserved round of applause for the unstoppable Y/N L/N, who will finally be gracing us with her triple threat performance.” Sareen states.

You note the drag in her voice when she says the word finally. And you fight the acidic feeling that accumulates in your mouth as you’re suddenly acutely aware of the fact that you’re standing next to the two people you hate the most – who continue to take credit for the one thing that’s yours.

“Out of the three, Y/N has chosen to mimic the signing performance that awarded her this coveted prize. She will be playing her brand new song, vampire, on the piano. A true testament to all the work that the three of us put together as a team, in molding her into a skilled pianist.” Danny states, sticking his hand out to Sareen as the two of them walk off and take a seat right at the front.

You can feel your skin steaming as you place the award on the top of the piano and sit down at the keys. You’re able to catch Sukuna’s striking pink hair moving on your left – to the seats behind Danny and Sareen – as you take that as your cue to start performing.

Hate to give the satisfaction, asking how you're doing now How's the castle built off people you pretend to care about? Just what you wanted Look at you, cool guy, you got it I see the parties and the diamonds sometimes when I close my eyes Six months of torture you sold as some forbidden paradise I loved you truly Gotta laugh at the stupidity

“Eren. You okay? You’re shaking the entire table.” Lana asks, leaning over to whisper in his ear.

Eren absentmindedly looks down and notices the nervous shaking in his leg, as he turns to his side and spares her a glance. He can note that Lana's concerned because this is starkly similar to the last time the two of them were here together.

When you were singing your isolating, heart-shattering piano ballad about him, while he was hanging his head in between his legs. After you had slapped him, after you had yelled at him after everything that had happened.

That was far from it. It was the way your hands were shaking on the piano keys that was stressing him out. He needed you to make it through the entire thing. Desperately.

“I’m nervous. I think she’s going to cry.” Eren whispers back.

'Cause I've made some real big mistakes But you make the worst one look fine I should've known it was strange You only come out at night I used to think I was smart But you made me look so naive The way you sold me for parts As you sunk your teeth into me, oh Bloodsucker, famefucker Bleedin' me dry, like a goddamn vampire

You’re crying.

Because all you can think about is how the two of them were just standing there, arms linked in with yours, in a moment that was supposed to be yours. That every moment that was supposed to be yours was theirs – and that even at the end of all of that, their still the one standing their proud with their careers when you had to suffer at the hands of it.

That taking your career was one thing, but taking advantage of the fact that you knew nothing was another. Because you were a teenager, who was so attached to her dream that she'd do anything to get it, especially when people at the top – were promising it to her.

All at the expense of Eren and his feelings. At the expense of your relationship.

You can feel your hands shaking, your vision entirely blurred as you feel the tears start to pour out of your eyes – your singing voice coming out entirely strained as you continue to push your keys on the piano. And you’re able to strain enough until you get right to the bridge and pause.

They had a responsibility to look out for you as an adult. And did the exaxt opposite.

You reach back to the slicked back bun and snag the pink ribbon that was secured into the little hair tie. The same pink ribbon that was dangling from your hair the day you were stranded in that godawful rain. And yank it straight out of your hair and wrap a little bow around the bottom of the award.

You wipe the wetness on your cheek, coming back with the slightest smudge on the back of your hand, before you press your hands into the keys and continue singing. The continuation has people rising out of their seats – and you don’t fail to notice that Eren’s the first one to do it – as you finish the song.

You said it was true love, but wouldn't that be hard? You can't love anyone, 'cause that would mean you had a heart I tried you help you out, now I know that I can't 'Cause how you think's the kind of thing I'll never understand

I've made some real big mistakes But you make the worst one look fine I should've known it was strange You only come out at night I used to think I was smart But you made me look so naive The way you sold me for parts As you sunk your teeth into me, oh Bloodsucker, famefucker Bleedin' me dry, like a goddamn vampire

You take the award and stand up from the bench of the piano to walk straight off the stage, directly to where Sareen and Danny are sitting in the front. Sukuna’s taken the hint to leave the open chair he was sitting in between them and retreats back to his original, as you place the award in between the two of them.

“Congratulations. I hope it was everything you ever wanted, assholes.” you seethe.

You slam the award down onto the open space between them, enough for them both to jump up in their seats and spill a glass of wine down the length of Sareen’s dress, as you angrily march back to your seat. And surely enough, Eren and Mikasa are waiting there with open arms, ready to wipe your glittery tears away.

And as the cameras drop and they cut to commercials for four minutes, you lean your head against Eren’s shoulder as Mikasa pours you a glass of water.

“So fucking good. So fucking amazing, Y/N you–” Eren whispers.

"Eren even punched him in the face earlier, Y/N! It looked like it really hurt." Mikasa murmurs.

You look up at Eren, and he's grinning so hard, that you can't even fight the urge to not smile back.

"Why'd you punch him?" you ask.

"You slapped Scott Clarkson for me. Why am I not allowed to punch Danny for you?" Eren asks.

You feel a tap on your shoulder and look to your left to find Hange and Levi standing at your side, which really only brings on a more powerful stream of tears. Levi instinctively opens up his arms as you lean against his shoulder instead, Eren standing closeby with Sukuna at his side now.

“Was that everything you wanted Hange?” you groan.

Hange smiles.

“And more, kid. I, uh. Actually have something for you.” Hange responds.

“What’s that?” you ask.

Hange gestures to Connie at the side, as he produces a small, golden trophy in Hange’s hands.

“I really don’t give a shit about this anymore. S’kind of how it goes with this type of thing. But, I know this award, this one in my hands specifically meant the world to you back in the day, so I want you to have it.” Hange murmurs.

You frown.

“Hange. You can’t just give that to me.” you respond.

“You gave yours away because it gave you more pain than it was worth. Mine did the same for me at the time too. But, it gives me joy to give it back to you, because really, you deserved it. Back then, but even now too.”

You take the little golden trophy in your hands, noting that it’s much smaller and really not even as shiny as the one that they had just handed you, and press it close to your chest.

“Hange, thank you so much. You have no idea what this even means to me.” you whisper, as you wrap your arms around their neck.

Hange spares Eren a glance over the shoulder and gives him a big thumbs up, coupled with Levi’s approving smile.

It’s the rare times that Eren’s overthinking habit comes in handy. When he’s able to think ahead and fix things before they happen.

“I have an idea, kid.” Hange responds.

Levi and Hange give you a three day break when you get back to set. You’re not sure what exactly it was that came out of you when you did your last performance, but it was almost like it drained the life out of you. Eren nearly had to drag you back onto that plane and consequently, to your room, when you made it back to the set.

He thinks that you’ve finally let go of what you’ve been holding on to. And that you can finally move forward now.

You told him that Marco must have been haunting him overtime for the past few days, which earned you a hearty laugh from him.

And surely enough, on the fourth day, you’re able to muster your legs down to the kitchen – to a group of well meaning cheers from the group of them – as you read the little slots on the schedule pasted on the fridge. And surely enough, Levi was going to throw you right back into the thick of it.

Wednesday, April 6th, 8:00 AM

Eren Head Decapitation

It’s a stupid caption. If you didn’t know what it meant, you would even laugh at it.

But you had read ahead already – and knew that it meant that it was finally time for you and Eren to get that kiss scene out of the way.

next part linked here

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bluebellhairpin · 11 months

Text

Erwin Smith X Wife!Reader

Summary: Wrath, Gluttony, and Lust. Apart they're dangerous, together they're deadly. All together, you've found they have a name - Erwin Smith. (word count; < 8k)

Warnings: Dark content, 18+ MINORS DNI, NSFW. DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT (if you don't like it, don't read it). Cannibalism. Descriptive murder of unnamed characters. Blood and gore. Sexual themes and Smut (Blood kink (menstrual included). Choking. Oral - receiving. Marking. Unprotected sex. Penetrative sex. Mirror kink. Creampie. Cockwarming.) Reader; eats meat (animal and human), drinks wine, has female anatomy, has periods (mentioned), is called 'wife', wears dresses.

Listening to: 'It Will Come Back' by Hozier - "Don't be kind to it, honey don't feed it - it will come back."

Part 2 || AO3 Link || Masterlist || Ko-Fi || Fright Night Bash 2023

"Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same." - Emily Brontë, 'Wuthering Heights'

Erwin had always been perfect.

Picturesque and put-together - it was like a man made just for you walked right from your dreams into reality.

He was charismatic, a gentleman with enough old-fashioned values to be charming. He made you feel like the only person who mattered in the world - something quite foreign to you prior to meeting him - and to him you really were the only person who mattered. Erwin loved you, and there was not a single doubt about it.

You didn’t know he wasn’t perfect - that he wasn’t, in every way, flawlessly carved and molded by gods - until you moved in with him. By then it was too late to back out. By then you didn’t want to - you liked how the ring on your finger looked too much.

Actually, for the first week things went smoothly. Like clockwork. None of it bothered you - too high on finally getting what you wanted to realize how in danger you were. At the time, your rose-colored glasses were blood red. Nothing was a problem until you started wanting to take them off.

Mainly because Erwin wasn’t letting you.

Meals were always cooked by him - which at first you liked, but he wouldn’t let you make anything just to be nice, if you wanted something he always made it. He barely let you put things from the fridge onto the bench.

“All you have to do,” he’d say, pressing himself in between your legs as you sat on the countertop next to the sink, “is sit there and look pretty.” His hands would move up from your knees to your thighs, sinking into the meat of your hips to pull you closer. “You do it so well for me.”

Then he’d kiss you for all your worth, still with his apron on and shirt sleeves rolled up past his elbows, and you’d forget why you wanted to do anything else except watch in the first place.

It was like that for a lot of things. Cooking and washing. Even work or shopping - the only time you went out of the house together was for dates, otherwise outside of your home he was never with you and you were never with him. You’d pout about it, kick up a fuss, and he’d sedate you with a few carefully placed words, hands, kisses, and occasionally his cock.

Each time it worked. Because you let it.

But months went past, and you didn’t want to keep playing the naïve and pliant partner. Because while you were most content being pliant, you weren’t a naïve person.

You wanted to know what was going on.

Erwin had taken an afternoon of work at home. He retreated into his study an hour ago and the house had been quiet since.

But you sat in the living room watching the embers of the morning's fire finally die off, and your mind was anything but quiet. There was something about Erwin, about this house, that didn’t quite feel right. Like something was missing - and it wasn’t a fucking child.

You wanted to know what it was. You needed to know.

You slowly moved from the leather couch, and like a ghost you went and stood in Erwin’s doorway.

He was standing also, near the window at the back of the room, reading over a handful of papers. He didn’t look like he noticed you there, but you knew he knew. Erwin always did.

“Do you need something?” he asked quietly, not looking up. You stood with your arms at your sides, unmoving.

“What do you do without me?” You surprised yourself at how saccharine your voice was. It made Erwin’s head lift, and he looked at you - finally - with a frown as he set the papers down.

“What do you mean?”

“Why don’t you let me do things with you.” you said, “You’re keeping secrets and I don’t like it. I feel like they’re too big for you to keep keeping them hidden.”

“You deserve to not have to worry.” he said, starting to step forward. You knew what he was going to do - he’d done it a hundred times to get you to stop asking questions - but this time you weren’t going to let him. You weren’t playing dumb anymore. You took a step back.

“That answer is so rehearsed, Erwin.” you said, “It’s good to stick to one story, helps avoid suspicion. Normally. But I just want you to be honest with me.”

You watched his storm blue eyes as they tracked your face. Soon he was mere inches away, and his fingers came up to graze your cheek - you would normally lean into it, but not right now. You had a point to prove.

Seeing this, his fingers moved lower, his hand wrapped around your neck - his palm on your throat, and his fingers pressed into the muscle under your jaw. If you closed your eyes it would be all you could feel, but right now it was like he was barely there.

“You want to know?” he asked. Your pulse picked up but you weren’t afraid. It was a show of strength and control, but you weren’t bending, you weren’t breaking. Not yet. “You’ll never see me the same way, I want you to remember me like I am now.”

“I want to know you as you really are.” Erwin’s hand moved from your throat down to your ribcage, resting warm on your side as he leant to press a kiss to the corner of our mouth.

“If you’re so sure,” he said, nose brushing your cheek, “I think then I’ll finally let you see our basement.”

Erwin never let you in the basement.

He said it was either too cold, or too dark for you to be allowed to go in. His precious little wife couldn’t be getting sick or hurt because of something that could be avoided.

In all honesty, you’d never had an interest in the basement anyway - months passed and you’d never once thought to go down there. All that was there was the boiler and a few chest freezers you used to store meat - both things Erwin looked after or did himself.

But now you were at the bottom of the stairs, watching as Erwin pulled on a leather butchers apron, with dust collecting around your feet.

It was cold in the basement. Dark too, even with the single bright white light on.

“I meant to deal with this carcass this afternoon,” he said, watching you watch him. You weren’t sure if to believe your husband's little secret was that he liked butchering animals on the side. As cruel as it sounded, it was still perfectly normal. “It might be nice having some company. They’re not really very conversational.”

That set off a little bell in the back of your head. Like ‘hey, that’s a little weird’ - like ‘hey, that's what you’d hear from someone who worked in a morgue not in a butchers cool room’. But like all the other alarms, bells, and flags, the red danger signs went right over your head.

Erwin approached one of the freezers - you watched as he lifted the door with one arm (and noted how his shirt strained over his shoulders, but you were still making a point, so it was set aside for later). The door propped open, then Erwin leant down and grabbed the carcass inside.

When it slung over his shoulder, you weren’t met with the beheaded shoulders and skinned muscle of a sheep - or even a goat or small deer -instead there was a face. Open eyed and lifeless, with a face drained of color and covered in frostbite.

You watched, with some morbid curiosity - or shock - as your gentle and doting husband effortlessly hung a lifeless human body by his jaw from the butcher's hook on the ceiling of your basement.

It slowly dwelled on you what exactly had been happening these past few weeks. That this had been happening the entire time you’d known Erwin Smith.

It was strange how you didn't notice it before. Watching now though, as he carved through muscle and sinew with a practiced and surgical ease, that he was not just dismantling this man for the sake of being able to hide his remains easier. He really did look like a man working in a slaughterhouse - and how he spoke of this man like he was an animal born and bred to be eaten.

Your thoughts went to the first time he served you venison - you said it tasted strange. He said it was an acquired taste - but you had been raised on fresh deer from your uncle's farm for years. You knew you loved it.

He gave you beef - likewise you asked where he got it from. His excuse at that time was that it was different when it was newly slaughtered. Again, for the same reason, now you knew it was a lie.

You couldn’t look away from how he skinned this man, how he knew which sections to carve away and keep, and which to throw away. He worked at it like a well oiled machine - all the while talking to you as if it was the most normal, casual thing in the whole world.

You thought you were going to be sick, you could even feel it sitting in your throat. All you did was slowly sit down on the stairs behind you, and kept on watching.

Dinner was made equally by the both of you that night.

Although you didn’t once touch the meat - not even to cook it. You knew where it came from - you saw this flesh pulled right away from its bones just hours ago. You remembered what Erwin looked like as he carved up another collection of meat you would’ve been eating from for the next few weeks - how his hair was mused and his pupils were blown wide. And as the body thawed, how he slowly became covered in more and more blood.

That night you could swear his reflection in the dining room mirror had horns.

And you saw how Erwin looked when he collected your plate after you finished, you saw the look in his eyes when he realised what you thought about what he’d done. What you thought about him.

There were no secrets now - and seemingly everything was still going over smoothly. You hadn’t made a fuss, you hadn't run away, you hadn’t called anyone, you barely even mentioned it, but there was just something. A little nagging something. It was telling you that not everything was right between Erwin and you anymore.

Like you weren’t quite sure if you were going to be safe with him or not.

Sat at your vanity, you slowly worked through your nighttime routine as Erwin dressed for bed behind you. You were caught between keeping an eye on Erwin and completely focusing on your task at hand. A question that had been sitting in your stomach since that afternoon bubbled into your throat.

“Who was that man?” you asked quietly.

“You didn’t recognise him?” Erwin replied, surprise in his voice as he turned to you. “I found him hard to forget.” Figures - Erwin did kill him, you’d expect him to remember. However, why you’d know him went right over your head.

“Of course I don’t,” you said, quietly speaking as Erwin’s hands rested on your shoulders, kneading at the tense muscle underneath them. You only just managed to stop yourself from flinching at his sudden touch. “Should I?”

“No,” he said. You saw him smile as he lent to litter a few small, soft - almost shy - kisses along your neck. “I wouldn’t want you worrying about a man who did such a vulgar thing.”

“What do you mean…” Your breath was taken by lips mouthing under your ear before you could finish your sentence. Heartbeat and eyes both fluttering on habitual instinct at the hands that had now wandered to tempt the delicate skin hidden under your shirt.

“Don’t worry.” He said, sounding like a command - having had your curiosity shocked into submission, you folded like you normally would.

After all, with his wandering hands, smooth words, and suckling mouth, who would worry.

Erwin once told you that pleasure was the best distraction from pain. Most of the time he was right. It had worked so far.

But that night after he fucked you long and hard and deep, as he lay dead asleep to the whole world, you lay awake. There was still a dull ache between your legs - still sticky too - and parts of your bare skin stuck to his from sweat left mostly unattended, but those weren’t the thoughts on your mind.

You remembered who the man was.

There was a bar you and Erwin went to only a few days ago - one of those perfect dates procured by a perfect husband. A dimly lit building, with tall tables you had to stand at. You’d dressed per Erwin’s request - a little dress that had you wanting to feel yourself as much as he was feeling you.

However it was gaining more attention than was appreciated.

A man - the man who’d met his demise at the hands of your husband - had indeed been quite vulgar. You weren’t quite sure how you forgot about it - perhaps the shock that there was anyone in your basement freezer had all other thoughts leave your mind.

But at the time it happened, you were sure something downright horrible could’ve happened to you if Erwin wasn’t there. That man was not kind or polite. He was no gentleman. He wasn’t going to treat you right, how you deserved to be treated. He wasn’t Erwin.

Like the knight in shining armor he always had been, Erwin was there - he dismissed the man and worked twice as hard to make sure you both forgot all about him. You certainly forgot, he however clearly did not.

It made you wonder how many other meals Erwin had made of men or women who treated you less than he thought was due.

You felt yourself curl into Erwin’s side. Your leg lifted over his, and even in his sleep his arm held you even tighter. Despite everything, he wasn’t going to hurt you. You felt safe with him. Most of all, you trusted him to keep you feeling safe.

He would do anything to keep you safe.

Erwin was quite understanding about you going completely off red meat.

For a while he really couldn’t blame you. However he was a little concerned. The sudden change in your diet was starting to show - physically and emotionally. His way of trying to get you to eat properly again was taking you out when he went to get groceries.

Normally he liked this time for himself - he found it calming, sorting through fruits and vegetables, picking and choosing the best for both him and you. Having you with him was different - but he found he liked you company just the same. You had a good eye, one he’d have to utilize more.

His main reason was proving to you that there were meats you could eat - look, there was beef and lamb both in the cart. All pre-packaged and perfectly normal meats to cook and serve for dinner - you’d have them tonight, he decided when he saw your eyebrows raise at the sight of them.

What you hadn’t known about his grocery trips, and what he had forgotten to tell you on that morning, was the cashier that always worked registers on the days Erwin was shopping.

She was a little older than you, but only half as pretty (although Erwin was sure that was debatable to some - not to him). She had a habit of attempting to make advances at him - all unfruitful, and all a little embarrassing to watch. Erwin thought nothing of them, perhaps he felt annoyed on occasion, but otherwise paid her no mind no matter how persistent she was.

He half hoped that bringing you along with him would make her cease. She just acted like you weren’t there at all.

However she clearly had caught you completely by surprise.

For a moment, Erwin caught a look on your face. Dark and unlike anything he’d ever seen on your features before. Something about how you held yourself was always so soft - but this was sharper than a razor's edge. He always liked your softness. He liked this too, but again it was different. He may have liked it more.

He didn’t even realize that the cause of the change was because she bothered you more than she bothered him. Not until much later.

You’d learnt two things from being married to Erwin.

One was that you could get away with anything. You could ask Erwin for anything, and it would be yours as soon as humanly possible. You could ask the same from others and they’d listen - not just because of who you married, but also because you just had a face that could get away with it.

The second was exactly the same thing - only it held a brand new meaning after finding out what secrets were held in the basement; you could get away with anything. Even murder.

Erwin was out for dinner - something he hated, but business must do what business does - and so were all your closest neighbors - holidays or dinners, as was the routine come around Friday night. You had the house, the whole neighborhood almost, to yourself.

But after a strategically placed grocery visit two days prior, you were not going to be alone tonight.

You almost laughed at her - the foolish cashier who’d so eagerly agreed to coming over to dine with you tonight - because of her cluelessness. Because she couldn’t see danger when it was standing right in front of her.

Besides from the company, it was a nice night out - hence why you took it outside on the barbeque table. Well, aside from the fact it would be easier to clean up outside than inside.

“What is this?” she asked, carving out a hefty piece of the steak you prepared and eyeing it.

“Wagyu. Japanese.” Your foot swayed carelessly from where your legs crossed, the grass tickled the bottom of your bare foot. “Some of the best you’ll get your hands on.”

“Really?” She said, believing you and putting it in her mouth. Even though she worked in a supermarket, she didn’t know any better - you were betting on it - and she couldn't tell otherwise anyway. “You’re not going to have any?”

“Oh, no.” you said, smiling into your red wine, “When you have it so often you lose your taste for it.”

That was about the most truth you’d said at once the whole night - from the happy greeting to just now. Of course the steak you served wasn’t Wagyu - if it was you’d definitely be eating it. In reality it was one of the last cuts left of the man you’d seen Erwin first butcher.

You really hoped he wouldn’t mind you using it up - after all he would be getting a whole new carcass in return for one steak. In your mind that was a very generous trade.

“It’s actually quite amazing,” she said, leaning back on the bench seat opposite you, “You’re such a good cook.”

“I learnt from the best.” you said, adjusting the knife on your place set and putting your glass down. “Would you like another glass?” You asked, standing to take her empty whiskey tumbler in your hand.

“That would be great.” she said, then turned back to her food. You walked away with a smile - it disappeared as soon as the sliding door shut behind you. You poured another shot into her glass - not wasting another top shelf liquor now she wasn’t around to see the difference - and eyeing her through the glass door with a look that could kill.

Before you went back outside, you took a trip down into the basement. Erwin always kept the kitchen carving knives sharp - but the ones downstairs? You knew they moved through flesh like it was warm butter.

Erwin swore he heard a broken scream as he pulled his car into the driveway.

There was an unfamiliar car in the driveway too, and you were home alone - and it made him very, very worried.

He grabbed his briefcase from the passenger seat, then made his way inside without wasting any time. His bag was dumped carelessly right by the door, and he called your name, multiple times.

At the end of the hallway, beyond the sliding door that led outside, he saw you walking up the deck stairs from the barbeque table. He practically ran to you, but stopped just beyond the kitchen doorway when he really, truly saw you.

You stood just outside, one hand on the glass door frame while the other held a knife - one he knew lived in the basement. Blood ran down your arm onto the silver blade - blood was everywhere. It was all over your face and satin dress, one he loved to see you wear on dates, and now it was ruined.

Well, ruined was a harsh word. If he were being honest, he'd say it had quite improved now. He liked the look of blood on you. From the twitching in his slacks, he really like it.

“You’re home early.” you said. His lips parted, partially in shock at how casual you were acting, and partially because he just couldn’t quite believe the implications of what he was seeing.

“You wanted me gone longer?” he asked, breathless. He watched you shift from one foot to the other - watched the fabric of your dress glide over the flesh of your stomach and the plush of your thighs, watched a drop of blood slide from off your chin down between your breasts. His jaw went slack, chest filled with a longing to follow the red trail with his tongue.

“Actually no,” you said, still playing aloof, gesturing behind you with the knife, “I don’t think I can move her on my own.”

“‘Her’?” Erwin found his voice still came out soft, unbelieving. He felt like he just walked into a dream.

“Your little supermarket girlfriend.” Your lips curled up into a snarl as you spoke - your eyes held the return of that dark look he��d only seen once before. You were angry. You were jealous. He’d never wanted you more.

“She was not my -”

“- It doesn’t matter what she was or wasn’t. Not anymore,” you said, looking at him with enough force to have him rendered mute, “Just help me move her downstairs.”

The knife was thrown carelessly onto the dining table - red droplets scattered on impact - before you turned on your bare heel and walked back in the direction you came from. Only once he watched you walk down the stairs did he manage to move. He was sure this wasn’t really happening - it was far too good to be true - yet if this were a fantasy he wanted to see just how far it went before he woke up.

Erwin’s suit jacket and die was discarded on the wooden decking the moment he saw you with the cashier’s body. You stood over her with her chin in your hand, her head tilted back so you could get a good look at the clean gash that ran from one side of her neck all around to the other.

He watched you in a daze as you stood straight up, her wrist between your bloodied fingers, and waited. You’d never looked more in-control than you had now - for the first time he found himself standing quite dumbstruck, waiting for you to tell him what to do.

“Heart’s slowed.” you said, “Should’ve lost enough blood to be fatal. Freezing her will help.”

“How do you know?”

“Cut both carotids.” you said. You looked up at him though your eyelashes, head low and voice soft. You looked like a devil. “Honey, I’m not stupid.”

Erwin had never been more in love.

There had been a freezer cleared, you knew that already, and despite the fact you would’ve struggled carrying someone your own size inside and downstairs - Erwin did so with little effort.

While he was busy, you couriered the remaining dinner dishes inside to the sink, and swaddled the blanket the cashier was sitting on inside to get washed. The thing was an absolute mess, soaked through in places. It’d probably be easier to get rid of it.

You had just finished outside when Erwin returned to meet you in the kitchen. His whole effort took less than ten minutes.

He had stained his shirt - chest, arms, all down his back - and his hands were slick. There was even a mark of it on his cheek. A mark of her.

You walked over, intent on wiping away the red herring, but found your efforts only made it worse. Your hand was covered in blood too. There was an unusual anger rising inside you. One the rivalled frustration but burned white hot.

But Erwin’s hand slid up from your forearm and gently wrapped around your wrist - he mirrored your position and pressed your palm into his cheek. His other hand pulled your body close to his, and your free arm hung dumbly at your side.

“What are you doing?” you asked - this time you were the one that sounded breathless, although you didn’t completely understand why. Maybe the adrenaline wore off, maybe you were realizing what you had done - but really it was neither of those things.

You saw that look in Erwin’s eye - you knew yours looked exactly the same.

“I’m processing.” he said, eyes fluttering about but never once leaving your face. His cheek was so warm. “Processing how my wife is even more beautiful now than on our wedding day.” You felt your feet shuffle closer as he pushed you back so your waist hit the counter’s edge.

He was hypnotising you, lulling into a cloudy haze with his movements and with his eyes and it lay thick and heavy on your tongue - but its bitter weight had never tasted sweeter than it did now.

“Kiss me,” you whispered.

The kitchen tiles and the marble countertops were not a pleasant place to be intimate. You knew it, and so did Erwin. Hence why he pulled you across the room with hungry, wet kisses onto the dinner table.

Your dress had been pushed up above your hips so fast it almost tore the fabric, and Erwin hadn’t wasted any time honing in on the wet spot on your underwear. One he seemed intent on making as large as possible.

He knelt at the end of the table - the chair had been hastily kicked aside - and had eased you to lie down with your legs thrown over his shoulders. As his teeth and tongue worked at making a wet mess of your inner thighs, his hand wandered up your dress to cup your breast, mindlessly toying with the bud in between two fingers.

The blood from his cheek smeared into the spit on your leg, and as he groped the fat at your chest he could feel the sticky red catch under his fingers.

You couldn’t help the way your eyes fluttered closed at feeling him all over you in such a way - an action that hadn’t gone unnoticed by your husband.

His mouth moved from your thighs to over your clit, hidden under your panties, and he laid a kiss there so gentle that it made your entire body jolt. Then his mouth opened, and he treated your lower lips with the same generosity previously granted the ones above. That was what you had been waiting for, it was what you were most craving, and he was reading you like an open book.

Unlike your dress, Erwin’s urgency to rid his current workspace of fabric was less than enthusiastic - the drag of thin cotton and elastic was slow, achingly so. He was teasing you, and as your frustrations grew so did your longing. He knew it.

The slow drag of his tongue up your slit to your clit almost had your back keening right off the table. It was enough to feel, but it wasn’t right. You needed so much more. Driven by need, both your hands went to his head, gripping to his hair for dear life as you urged his face closer to where you needed it - blindly angling your hips up to meet his waiting mouth.

Eventually, his mouth met the place you needed him most. Bare, open, wet and waiting. His lips went right to your cunt, opening over your core and his tongue dove right in. His nose pressed up to your clit, and you heard him breathe in deep.

The sounds he was making were absolutely sinful.

Erwin barely pulled away to speak, mouth still connected to your cunt with the slick he was conjuring - he was speaking into you as much as he was speaking up at you.

“Getting to have you like this is perfect.” He sounded like he was going to cry. “I’ve been waiting so long. So long.”

And then, as if his mouth even left you, he returned with twice the vigor. His shoulders shoved into the backs of your thighs, but his grip on your hips pulled you in further, pressing the curved line of his nose deeper into your slit. The sudden intensity made your thighs quiver.

“Erwin, p-lease.” you moaned, voice broken and choking on nothing but air as your fingers pulled relentlessly on his once-perfect blond hair.

“Yes, c’mon baby,” he mumbled, eyes fluttering open and closed - unable to decide on focusing on pleasing you or watching how pleased you were - “Use me. Please. Show me you need me.”

“Need you.” you breathed, legs curling over his shoulders. “Need you so bad Erwin.”

All he did in reply was hum - the feeling spread from your cunt all through your body, washing in waves down to your toes, and up to your head, making everything fuzzy as your eyes closed in pleasure. You were content to stay exactly like that for the rest of the night.

But Erwin was never one to do things quietly - he went above and beyond - and he always had such a mouth on him. He was intent on making sure all his energy was pushed towards pushing you to release. His fingers and mouth, the muscles in his thighs keeping him knelt just right for you, and his thoughts never slept - he needed you to know exactly what he was thinking - as if he knew how much you loved knowing what he wanted to do with you.

“Just imagining how good you’d taste -” he groaned, pulling away and replacing his face with his fingers, two slid right in with very little resistance, “- when this blood on my hands is yours.”

Your mind went to the woman in your freezer.

Eyes slowly opened to glare as Erwin stood over you. With the different angle your hands moved - one down to where his wrist was pressing against your clit as his fingers curled inside you, the other around his throat, tensed around the veins that ran either side of his windpipe.

The same ones you cut to kill that woman in your freezer.

“If you kill me, I’m going to fucking murder you.” You hand pressed harder, enough that if you took your hand away there would be a white mark where the blood was forced to leave his perfect skin.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.. I could never hurt you like that.” he said softly, unbothered by your hand around his throat - the look in his eyes told you he was more than pleased at how rough you were being. He leant over you and mounted the table with a knee pressed to the underside of your thigh. “No, instead what you can give me is much better than her blood. Neither of us have to do a single thing in order to have it, and that makes it so much sweeter.” As he spoke his lips rested over yours, his breath was in your mouth and if you licked your lips you’d taste as much of him as you would of yourself.

His hand curled down, pressing your joint arms between your bodies at an odd angle, letting his fingers move in such a way that had your eyes rolling back and mouth opening in a silent scream at the pleasure and pain his fingers started to bring.

Like an open invitation, his mouth was on yours. As he stuffed your cunt with a third finger, his tongue worked into your mouth and spread the taste of your slick all over. It was intense - how all you could feel was him inside you and his hand around your ribcage; all you could taste was the salt you gave him, the kind he craved; all you could smell was him, oak wood and leather, and the smell of your sex that he'd pressed his entire lower face into.

There was no other place in the world like this - nothing compared to being pressed into the wood of your dining table by a man who completely adored everything about you. Now, you decided, you could stay right there forever.

His lips moved again, from your mouth down your chin to your jaw. They landed on your throat, and you moaned at how his teeth sunk into your skin and sucked. Once he felt sedated at the size and color of the bruise there, his tongue went to work once more - starting right down on your breasts and licking all the way up to your jaw.

Erwin was cleaning you. Drinking you clean and leaving you bare of the red splatter that once painted your skin imperfect - for he suddenly found the one thing he loved more than seeing you covered in blood was being able to clean it off you.

His breathing was heavy, and he groaned into your skin as his knee gave way so his hips could roll down into yours despite his hand blocking his way.

“Oh sweetheart, the things I would do for a chance to be between your legs while you bleed life right into my mouth.” His admission - along with the constant pressure of his wrist moving on your clit - was your final push. Your stomach tensed, pussy clenching over his fingers and sucking them in tight. “That’s it, yes that’s - perfect. You’re so perfect.”

In blind pleasure, eyes glossy and looking right past his head to your ceiling, your hands freed from their vice grips on his wrist and throat to move to his hips. As your hips bucked up into his hand while you rode out your orgasm, your new purchase had him rolling down into you even more.

Oh, if the size of his cock spoke it would tell you how he must be completely aching inside the slacks he wore.

“Show me,” you said between catching your breath and coming down from the release Erwin brought you, “Show me how you’d fuck me if this blood was mine.”

From the way his teeth sunk into your shoulder - so hard you swore he’d rip a mouth-sized chunk of flesh right from your bones - you had definitely said the right thing.

With his mouth still leaving borderline painful marks on your neck, his hands worked on slipping your dress off - the slick from his fingers left painted cold lines on your skin as he dragged the fabric off, blood spread thin over your body, and with a flick of his wrist the dress was gone completely. All in one piece, too.

But the same courtesy was not given to his own clothes - thread and buttons tore, and soon before you stood your perfect, bloodied, naked husband. He seemed to take a moment to look at you, chest heaving and looking like he’d just run a marathon.

Your thighs pressed together, and the sticky wet left strings webbed between your legs as he pried your knees open. His hands were big, and warm, and for the first time you really noticed how calloused his palms were. Before you could dwell on it long, his hand wrapped around to press your leg up into your chest - as it moved so did he, languid and calm, and he was above you again with your knee pressed to your chests and his palm at your throat.

He was looking at you with such an intensity that you knew in that moment that you would do anything he asked of you. Without a word, his eyes told you to stay exactly how you were - so you did.

You could feel your heartbeat in your ears, watching Erwin though lidded eyes as he leant away and his hips lowered and the leaking tip of his cock touched your stomach.

Your other leg raised to hook around his waist, an attempt to urge him into the place you needed him most. But he was nothing if not steadfast in getting what he wanted too.

“Tell me. Show me.” he said. “Let me know that you want it.”

But you couldn’t speak. The ability to form words had completely left you, partly from imagining how good the slow drag of him would feel inside you, and partly because the hand around your throat stopped most noise from going further than underneath them - you could barely swallow without Erwin having to give way to the movement. So you did all you could do.

Your hands scrambled for a place to hold, a place to sink your nails into and never let go - a place where the skin was so thin it dragged and curled and caught under your fingernails. It was an action you had done many a time before, but this time it was different. Your ferocity ran deeper, harder, he would bleed and hurt and he would wear these lines for weeks instead of days. The thought made your hips buck up, swivel in yearning and pure want. You were showing him how deep your need ran.

“Yes, hurt me.” he said, open mouth covering yours and swallowing every silent noise of want and relief as he angled his body to finally press into your core. He always felt so big, and he was harder than you ever remember him being. He was hot, and he slid right into your warmth like he was always meant to be there. Like it was his home, the one place in the whole world meant to be just for him.

“Erwin,” you mouthed, eyes unable to stay open anymore at the feeling of him stopping right against that spot inside you that made stars burst behind your eyes and warmth pool in your stomach.

“What is it?” he hummed, releasing the pressure on your neck enough so you could speak properly. For a few agonizing moments all you could do was pant and squirm as his other hand pressed down on your womb to keep you still under him.

“I need it, I need it.”

“Need what?” he asked, moving over you again to press too-gentle kisses to your cheeks, “I know you’re feeling a lot right now sweetheart, but I need you to talk to me. Can you do that?”

“Yes,” you said, eyes caught watching him watch you, and you swallowed thickly. “I need you to do what I said. I need you to fuck me.”

Your voice came out stronger, more collected and coherent than you thought it would. Even the way Erwin’s eyes widened slightly told you he was as surprised at your admission as you were. But it wasn’t an admission - it was an order.

“Anything for you.” he said, pressing his lips to yours. His hand moved from your abdomen to your hip bone, and you knew you finally - finally - got what you wanted.

From how eagerly he gave in, and how enthusiastic his movements became, Erwin had been waiting for this too. To have you exactly as he was right then.

The squelch from his thrusting into your cunt, and the rapidly cooling slick that spread from your core onto your thighs only served to urge you on further - it had your back arching and pussy clenching over Erwin’s cock. Both your hands flew to his wrist, not to stop his hold on your neck, but to ground yourself as you mindlessly bucked up to meet his thrusts.

“Oh baby yes, look at you.” Your eyes opened, mouth waiting and expectant for another consuming kiss - but Erwin was not looking at you. Not directly. His head was turned, and you felt how his hips picked up speed at what he was seeing in your dining room mirror.

Your head turned, and you had to fight to not roll your eyes back into your skull at what you saw. You couldn’t want for anything more than the man above you.

His grin was almost all teeth, jaw slack, and he looked nothing short of an animal. Erwin almost laughed at how pleased he was with how he had you.

His hair a mess, and parts sticking to his forehead at the effort he was putting in to please you. Even from your angle you could see the welts over his shoulders where, at his command, you had stripped him of his skin. Blood was still practically everywhere, and he looked like an absolute mess. A very pleased mess.

While one arm had your leg almost up over his shoulder while his hand gripped your bloodied and bit-ridden neck, the other was all over your other thigh - keeping it pressed around his hips, and your heel dug into the dip below his hips to encourage him as deep inside you as possible.

His thrusts weren’t letting up, and the sight of him watching you watch him had you moving as much as you could just to meet him. To force him as deep as he could go.

And then there was you. Laid equally bare and equally covered in blood - and completely at the mercy of your husband.

Your hair pressed down onto the table beneath you, bite marks and hickies littered your neck, dried spit and blood all over your chest. Your whole body felt like it was on fire. Hot and wanting - all you wanted was to come undone.

Lower still, thanks to your leg being lifted to the high heavens by a man who was now mouthing and panting at your ankle, was a perfect view of where your bodies met. With the way his cock sunk in and out of your pussy, and your white slick coating the wiry hairs at his base. With such a lewd sight as that, it was no wonder he became so frantic.

One of your hands went to your clit - swollen and aching, the fair brush of Erwin’s hairs as his hips met yours wasn’t going to be enough for you. You needed more. You were going to take it for yourself.

But Erwin, still keenly watching you in the mirror, saw. The hand on your hip moved down between your bodies, laying atop yours and guiding your fingers in a rhythm you didn’t even know - but one he knew would bring you to release, even if you didn’t.

Your grip on his wrist tightened, nails pressing crescents into his skin. Your mouth opened again, eyes unable to stay open for the feeling that built inside you took over. You were so close that it was all you were thinking about.

Erwin - he was all you could feel. He was consuming you. You were consuming him.

“That’s it, that's my -” he choked, words caught in his throat, feeling how you clenched around him tighter with a cry of pleasure - it went straight to his head. “That’s right, yes.” he said, eyes closing as yours fluttered open to watch as his face contorted in pleasure.

A new warmth burst into your stomach as Erwin’s movements slowed to a stop, hot and thick. As you laid there with the last waves of your own pleasure - and the complete feeling of being filled to the brim - lulling you into a sense of complacency, you watched as your husband opened his eyes again.

He smiled at you, his hand finally moving off your throat to the side of your jaw, brushing your hair further away from your face. The pressure of his arm keeping your leg up left, and it moved down to wrap around his waist too.

With a light groan, and a little assistance from Erwin, you sat up. Together you moved so he stood at the edge of the table, while you sat on it. You shuffled slightly closer, thighs tightening around his hips as the angle pressed him deeper inside you again.

Erwin’s tightened grip on your hip was a warning - one you were planning to follow. You didn’t think either of you had it in yourselves to go that far again that quickly.

Well, maybe you could - but you were more than happy not to.

But at that moment all you wanted was to just stay as close to him as possible.

Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, breasts pressed flush to the hairs on his chest, and his grip on your waist moved down to under your thighs. He lifted you off the table, and with a few carefully placed steps, he backed into the seat he previously pushed aside.

With you now in his lap, he held you properly. His fingers traced the curves of your back, and one stayed there to press you into his warmth while the other continued to wander up your ribcage.

“I love you,” he murmured, nosing your cheek and pressing a soft, slow kiss to your lips. Your fingers found their way to the back of his skull, itched past his undercut and found a home fixed in his blond locks.

Your chests pressed together, breathing still unsteady, but you’d never been so calm. So sedated. In that moment, as you looked at Erwin, all you could think of was how the flush on his cheeks made his freckles completely disappear. Your insides felt like a slow pour of the sweetest honey.

“I love you too.”

“But we need to talk about what you’ve done.” Erwin had barely broken away from you to speak again, but the idea of what exactly you did wasn’t clicking. He could see it on your face.

“I didn’t do anything.” you said with a pout - it took everything in him to not take your lip between his teeth, but he would be content just being inside your pussy. For now.

“Oh but you did.” he said, keeping his voice soft and movements slow, “Sweetheart, I think you’ve killed someone for me.”

He watched you frown, then watched as it deepened in realization. Then, like when he caught you in his button-down shirt for the first time, you shied away. Your face found a place on his shoulder so he couldn’t see it, and then you answered him.

“She deserved it.” you mumbled. “And if you were planning on finding someone else to fill your freezers then tough luck. I got there first.” he felt your fingers tighten on his hair, and he was slightly glad you’d hidden your face on him.

That way you couldn’t see the pleased smile that broke across his features. He was going to speak again, when you beat him.

“And if you think anyone besides me is going to carve her up, then you’re dead wrong.” When he realized what you’d said, his grip on you tightened even more. “I can’t wait to butcher her up like the pig she is. Bet she’ll taste awful though.”

He had to purse his lips together - an effort to keep his mouth closed and no sounds coming out. At your admission he became absolutely ecstatic.

Weeks ago he never would have thought you’d feed into his habit - he never even planned on ever telling you about it. He was content with having you clueless to his true nature. Perhaps once or twice, he fleetingly dreamed that you might happily join him when he dined on the flesh of the people who wronged you.

But this was better. This was so much better.

You had changed since he married you. His slow patience had worn off and he held in his hands the fruits of his labor - filled to the brim and painted red. Now you could do it together, whole-heartedly and in every aspect. From the slaughter to the meal, he had you. And you had him.

Now the moment you said so, he would believe you, and if you wanted someone dead he would happily, proudly bring them to your feet all for you to feast on. He’d take it even more seriously, and he would kill anyone you wanted him to. Anyone at all. And you’d do the same for him.

Turning his head, and kissing your temple, he let you feel him smile against your skin. Now he knew he really had you all to himself.

You had always been perfect for him.

#fright night bash 2023 #cw blood #cw cannibalism #erwin smith x reader #erwin x reader #aot x reader #snk x reader #aot smut #snk smut #erwin smith smut

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rinamars · 2 months

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(under the cut: 2k of grinding, rough sexytimes, the obvious power imbalance that comes with fucking your superior, a slight hint of exhibitionism, an even slighter hint of breeding kink because it's me, what did you expect. basically my fantasy of letting this man use me)

You need to keep quiet when you slip into the Commander’s office late at night. You need to keep quiet, because everyone in the Scouts knows that their Commander is a massive workaholic; they know they’ll be able to find him there, sitting on his chair, surrounded by piles of that damn paperwork.

Sometimes, the younger recruits—bless their soul—knock on his door to bring him tea or something to eat, anything that might make his all-nighters a bit more bearable.

Little do they know that he already has you for that.

It started innocently enough. It started, in fact, with you bringing him tea, just like those other recruits did.

At first, all you did was simply place the small tray on his desk, salute him with trembling hands, and leave, content with just that small nod of gratitude you received in return, because at least he’d noticed you.

Then, you overheard Section Commander Hange mention that the Commander had a sweet tooth, therefore you made sure to always include a crumpet, or a biscuit, or even simply an extra sugar cube; that’s when his nod of gratitude turned into a genuine smile, and you had to be quick to turn around after all, so that he would not see the red blossoming on your cheeks.

When he suggested you bring a second teacup, you felt like you were walking on clouds. Soon enough, you went from lingering in his office long enough to empty your cup to spending hours just chatting about nothing and everything. Hours that made you ache for him even more, as you returned to your bunk afterwards and clamped a hand over your mouth as the other slid underneath your already soaked panties, aided by the memory of his blue eyes, his plump lips smiling at you, his deep voice, massive hands—

Long story shorts, you were down bad.

You always wondered what went through his head as you spent your nights like that, talking and laughing together like old friends. You wondered if he was just as desperate as you, if the way he looked at you sometimes meant that he touched himself every night to thoughts of you, that he too had to will himself not to scream your name as he came in his hand.

You wondered—until one of those nights you did not have to wonder anymore.

The teacups were already empty. Silence engulfed the headquarters; everyone seemed to be asleep but the two of you. He’d been observing you and smiling to himself more than usual, and all that extra attention had gotten so overwhelming that you had to stand up and walk to the open window, hoping that the fresh night air would erase the desperate blush from your heated cheeks.

You gripped the windowsill and took deep breaths, and then, just as you were about to turn around, ready to act like nothing was wrong, you felt his presence behind you.

“No need to be shy,” he said with that low, sexy voice of his. “Let me see you. You look so lovely when you blush for me.”

“Sir—”

You didn’t mean to whimper, but you were far too desperate to act innocent, anyway.

He settled behind you, his hands firmly holding onto the windowsill on either side of you—his hips pressing into your ass. Far too intensely for it to be an accident.

The sound you let out this time was far louder.

“So I was right,” he spoke into your ear, his lips ghosting over the earlobe. “This is what you have in mind, when you come into my office after hours.”

Erwin’s hips ground into you more intentionally than before, and his erection was unmistakable. You let out a needy moan, instinctively grinding back against him.

“And here I was, thinking you were so kindly offering me tea… when all this time, what you were offering—” another grind, another embarrassing moan— “was yourself.”

The rest of that first night is a blur. You remember his hard cock humping you from behind, almost making you soil your underwear right then and there; you remember him pushing you down until you were on your knees, the sound of him unbuckling and unbuttoning his pants, the way your throat suddenly felt dry at the realization that fuck, he’s big. You remember him guiding your head while you blew him and the shameful wet noises your mouth made, you remember how generous he was with his praise—yes, just like that, good girl, so eager to have a taste—and you remember the warmth of his seed as it filled your mouth.

It was a silent pact, but you became his little stress relief, a duty which you fulfilled thoroughly every single night.

When you returned the following night, the tea tray was just a silly prop; no one was thirsty for tea anyway. The water cooled in the teapot as you bounced on his lap, the sound of skin slapping on wet skin almost as loud as your whimpers.

Sometimes you even forgot to actually fill the teapot, such was your eagerness to offer your body to him, but at least you were smart enough to keep the act of pretending you were visiting him so late at night for something as innocent as tea, just in case anyone ran into you while you were on your way.

It’s like you were made to serve him. You felt naturally inclined to obey his every order, behind closed doors just like on the field. Get into formation. Switch to ODM gear. Spread your legs. Making sure expeditions went smoothly and he had a hole to fuck every night was simply what any good soldier would do for their Commander; and so, you obeyed.

“Maybe this is your purpose after all,” he murmurs, tapping his cock against your awaiting tongue. “Kneeling for me, eager to please.” You try to fully wrap your lips around him, and he chuckles, pushing your head back with one hand. “Oh, you’re impatient, aren’t you? Can’t wait to have your mouth full, hmm?”

After some teasing, he finally feeds you his cock, and you moan in relief at the now familiar taste. He’s so large he stretches your mouth to full capacity, but it’s not like you’ll ever let that stop you.

He groans—your favourite sound. “Deeper, just like that… oh, yes, you were made for this, darling, you were made to take my cock…”

The praise makes you moan around him, and he grips your hair tighter, keeping you still as he fucks your mouth. You focus on the wet sounds that fill the room to distract yourself from the soreness of your throat. One trembling hand fondles his balls, and they feel heavy underneath your touch.

“Yes, fuck,” he lets out, and oh, hearing him curse like that does things to you. “That’s my good girl.”

Your jaw hurts, your throat burns, and tears are streaming down your cheeks from the exertion, but his praise makes you moan around his cock and bob your head faster. He’s hitting the back of your throat with each thrust, and he’s barely halfway in.

“Oh,” he grunts, and your mouth is suddenly empty. “Stand up,” he orders, “I have to be inside you.”

He’s quick to position you with your back against his desk and lift your skirt up. After your first few escapades, you started showing up to his office in your civilian clothes, not only because you feel more alluring in your long skirts and soft blouses, but also because lifting up a skirt is so much quicker than having to detangle your legs from your uniform trousers. As the Commander works your panties down your legs, you think maybe next time you should forego those as well, make it even easier for him.

You let out another desperate moan as he runs the tip of his cock up and down your pussy, and you’re so wet the motion produces a clicking, squelching sound that drives you wild, drives him wild, too.

“A cock in your mouth is all it takes for you to get this soaked, hmm?” he whispers, his eyes twinkling in the dim lighting of the room—the candles are beginning to turn into embers. “Does it turn you on, offering me your body like this?” He slides the tip in before moving back again despite your protests. “Letting me use you like this?”

“Yes,” you finally manage to utter. “Yes, Commander.”

“My perfect little soldier,” he praises you again before finally breaching you.

If heaven really exists, you reach it every time he sinks balls deep inside you.

He doesn’t dawdle, it’s fast and rough from the very start. His balls slapping against your ass with each thrust are loud, just like you are.

“Oh—Commander! Mmh—”

“Shh, darling,” he whispers in your ear as he keeps the ruthless pace. “You don’t want people to hear, do you?”

“Ahhh—”

“You perfect, lovely thing.” He’s fondling your breasts. “You insatiable little slut.”

Yes, yes, yes. That’s what you were meant to be, that’s what the Universe made you join the Scouts for. You were made to keep his cock warm, his balls empty as his mind relaxed, and you were eternally grateful for that role. He fucks you, and you squeeze your pelvic muscles, making sure you’re nice and tight for him, fulfilling your duty.

“So tight, so fucking tight,” he growls through gritted teeth, gripping your hips so tight you’re already savouring the inevitable marks. “Taking me so deep. Here,” he says, grabbing one of your trembling hands and pressing it against your tummy, and—oh. He was bulging you with every thrust. “Feel how deep I am inside you, darling?”

“S’deep,” you echo, too dumbed out to form coherent sentences.

“Yes, baby,” he chuckles, “so deep.”

"I—ahh—mmm—"

“What is it, darling?” he mocks you. “Cat got your tongue? I’m fucking you so good you forgot how to speak, huh?”

“Please—”

“Ah, there she is. Please what, hmm?”

“Oh, more, please—”

“What a good girl, asking so nicely.”

His pace gets impossibly faster. Sweat and various bodily fluids make your bodies stick together, and it would disgust you if it didn’t feel so damn good.

His hips suddenly still as warmth fills you up, and you simply cannot hold back anymore.

You’re pretty sure you passed out for a few seconds, but when you open your eyes again, he’s rocking back and forth into you again. Overstimulated, you whine.

“One more,” he commands. “You can take one more, hmm? Like a good girl. Keep your legs nice and spread—yes, like that—”

He’s panting above you, his movements are getting erratic, but he seems determined to chase that high once more.

“One more,” he repeats frantically as his seed floods your insides once more. “Oh, yes…”

Your skirt is crumpled and stained with sweat and both of your releases, a few buttons are missing from your blouse, and your panties are nowhere to be found.

As for the Commander, well, he never looks anything but his best, not even after such strenuous activity; only the way the pomade had worn off from the pearls of sweat in his hair seems to ruin that perfect image.

He grabs your chin and forces you to look into his eyes. There’s sudden clarity in them now: nothing like a good orgasm to sharpen the mind. He kisses you hard, and you’re too exhausted to do anything but let him lead.

“What do we say?” he whispers afterwards, lips still brushing yours.

“Thank you, Commander,” you let out, still catching your breath. “Thank you.”

“Good girl.” You whimper as two of his fingers plug you up, preventing his seed from spilling out. “Be careful, now, pet. Do not waste a drop.”

#reposting bc i deleted it by accident whoops #mars writes #erwin smith x reader #erwin x reader #erwin smith smut

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sunshine-for-serotonin · 2 months

Text

The Jaws of Those Most Beloved

Erwin Smith x reader

Notes: fix it ending where Erwin is administered the titan serum even though it’s not really mentioned, small bit of biting, praise, Erwin calls you ma’am because that’s hot af, titty sucking with a well endowed reader, on that note: nursing handjob, a sprinkle of chubby reader, dacryphilia, the actual smut doesn’t last very long because Erwin cums pretty much the moment he starts thinking about how much he loves you.

3.2k words

A small blurb for: @flametrashira

Big thanks to: @seaslugfanclub who saved my ass by being a pre-reader and editor! Thank you, Neptune!

The tiniest bit inspired by the song ‘Rule #34 by Fish in a Birdcage, covered by Justine’s mic’.

As nervous as I am about posting this, I strongly believe this is one of the best things I’ve ever written-

Summary: Overworking himself as per usual, Erwin finds salvation in the tender caresses from you that his body craves, yet his mind struggles to accept the notion he is worthy of such care.

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Shadows danced and created monstrous silhouettes across the walls of Erwin’s study, the candle he had lit slowly burning as he poured over plans and preparations late into the night. The ink that flowed from his quill seemed to blot and merge in the low light, and Erwin found himself struggling to write despite the words flowing steadily through his tired mind. His hair, the same golden hue as church bells, slowly started to become more unkept as the minutes ticked by, cerulean eyes scanning the same sentence repeatedly in an effort to process what he had written. And yet, for all he tried, both words and thoughts continued to evade him, as faint as the smoke from the candle wick as the flames devoured it.

A faint knock, promptly followed by the creaking of his office door opening is what shook the commander out of his stupor. The image of you entering his study, a plate of warm food obviously intended for him in your hand, was all too enchanting, the haze in his mind simultaneously lifting and becoming maddeningly worse.

“Beloved…. It’s late, you should be in bed… I’ve just a few more documents to complete and I will join you.”

A soft huff left your tantalizing lips as you set the plate down on his desk over top of papers, the ink having long dried whilst he was in a daze, and ignoring the soft pout on his exhausted features. You were all too familiar with Erwin and his tactics; he would tell you he would go to bed once he was finished, stay in his office for longer, and then when you would go check on him he would be out cold. He was always plagued by nightmares at those times, the warmth of your touch gone and unable to stave away the loneliness, the dead bodies, the blood on his hands and conscious.

“And how is it that I should go to bed, yet you stay up without food in your belly as you slave away over papers? You need to eat something and then be done for the night, honey.”

“But beloved-”

“Erwin.”

Oh. You were using that tone, the one that makes shivers run down his spine and his heart leap into his throat, the one that makes him unable to do anything but surrender to you and the sensations you ignite in him, body, mind, and spirit. You knew the way that tone affected him, you always had, and you sure as hell knew it now as he blushed to the very tips of his ears. It was all too entertaining to watch the normally stoic and composed man start to crumble, to witness Erwin Smith, humanities commander, huddle into himself and start playing with his fingers as he avoided your gaze.

“Now you listen to me, Erwin love. You are going to stop working, eat your dinner, and then I am going to help you change into sleep clothes before you collapse from exhaustion. Understand?”

“Of course, yes…”

“Yes what?”

Searing heat started pooling in Erwin’s belly, his face growing hotter as he folded his calloused hands in his lap with a sheepish expression to hide his growing arousal, a small murmur leaving his lips as he replied to you.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“That’s my good boy~”

You giggle softly, taking his head in your warm hands to tilt his face up to look at you as you stroke the sharp structure of his cheekbones. If you looked close enough, you almost felt you could see where the shifter scars around his blue orbs had been.

“Look me in the eyes when you’re talking to me though, honey. You know better, I’ve trained you better. Right?”

“Yes ma’am, you’re right, I know better.”

Strong arms wrapped around your waist as Erwin nuzzled himself against your soft middle, just below your chest. You couldn’t help the small coo that left your lips as you ran your fingers through his hair, the gold locks just barely peeking out over the rim of your breasts and your nails scratching his scalp so deliciously gentle that it made his chest ache with love.

“Is there something you’re wanting, baby? Hm?”

“Beloved, ma’am, I was… I was wondering if you would touch me… please, ma’am, I-I need it...”

Softly biting your lip, you let out a pleased hum as you force him to face you again. Big blue eyes blink guiltily up at you beneath thick brows, and from what you can see of his collar bone you know he’s already blushing down to his chest which lets you know just how needy he truly is already.

“Dinner first, but then I believe you’ve more than earned it. Do you want me to feed you?”

“Yes please, ma’am.”

Erwin always felt safest when he had your weight on him or underneath him, a fact you keep in mind as you make yourself comfortable in his lap and begin feeding him bites from the plate, your thick thighs caging his own in the mahogany chair. You could tell his cock was already starting to harden the second you sat down, the bulge in his uniform trousers only growing when you gave him a small peck on the lips, his mouth chasing yours without a second thought when you pulled away before you were able to reign him in again.

“Easy, sweetheart… I can’t exactly feed you if your mouths not free~ And the longer it takes you to eat, the longer it’ll be before I can give you some attention~”

Reaching one of your hands under the plate in your lap, you gently palm him through his pants. Your reward being a subtle roll of his hips and a small keen, his heavy thighs flexing under you as he tried to hold you closer.

“My apologies, ma’am. I didn’t intend to be… bad… I love you…”

It was adorable, truly. Every time Erwin did something he feared may disappoint or upset you, he would immediately follow it up with an ‘I love you’ and got incredibly distressed if you failed to say it back in a timely manner, as though fearing he would lose your love despite how many times you had assured him you would be with him for eternity.

“I love you too, Erwin. Always will.”

That pulled a smile from his full lips before he conceded, allowing you to go back to feeding him as he tried to ignore the throbbing ache in his groin. After a few quiet minutes of making sure he had food in his tummy, Erwin finally finished all of his meal, slightly hiding his face in you neck with a soft whine as he realized you could feel his heavy cock twitch in anticipation.

“Ma’am, please…”

“I know, I know, baby… you’re so pretty when you beg, you know that?”

Another brilliant flush coated the commanders features, when you called him “pretty”. It truly was the simple praise and soft gestures that did your love in, you thought to yourself as you pulled him in for a soft kiss, a stark contrast to how your hands began trailing over his chest. The way Erwin’s lips molded against yours was as seemingly as natural as breathing to the blonde man, a huff of relief leaving him through his nose causing warm air to tickle across your cheek as you began to slowly undo his uniform top. The first time you two had kissed, Erwin had adorably tried to strategize how your lips were meant to connect with his own, his brows furrowing slightly as he had studied your face to determine the best possible angle before you decided to just go for it and pull him in. The thought of that first kiss causes you to chuckle tantalizingly against his lips, the vibrations pulling a small moan from his throat as the kiss starts to heat up.

Your fingers move to play with his collar, gently peeling away the fabric of his uniform top to reveal his flushed and sensitive chest, the muscles in his pecs heaving with the effort of catching his breath after you pull away.

“So beautiful, love… I don’t know what I did to deserve such a handsome and well behaved good boy…”

A swell of hot pride and arousal at being called ‘your good boy’ bubbles in Erwin, the praise going straight to his dick as he wraps his arms tight around you.

“I’m so lucky to have you, ma’am, not the other way around… thank you for seeing me, for being here with me, for loving me. After all the things I have allowed and done for humanity, I know that I’m hardly worthy of this, of you, and yet I find myself so deeply enraptured by you, I’m unable to function without your presence.”

Now that sure as hell got your blood pumping as you leaned in and began pressing a flurry of kisses to his cheeks and nose, Erwin all but melting into a pile of lovey goo. Slowly, you began to press small and heated kisses down the side of his neck, letting your teeth snag on heated skin and relishing in the small stutters of air that escaped his parted lips.

“Ma’am, please, right there! Oh- Please!~”

You knew exactly where he was talking about. Erwin’s sweet spot was located on his upper neck, just under his ear and towards his nape, a fact that you often found yourself abusing whenever he was within reach of your teeth. Running your hand through his disheveled hair, you found yourself giving in to his whims and sinking your teeth in deep, the sharp bones creating ravishing bursts of red and purple not unlike a painter creating art on a canvas. Pitiful mewls more musical than the finest orchestra graced your ears between breathless cries of gratitude as you gave the newly formed bite a tender kiss.

“Oh, thank you, thank you, ma’am… it feels so good… thank you….”

To Erwin, being between your jaws as they tore at his flesh was nothing short of paradise, the fact that you would choose to mark him of all people with bite marks that would last for days inducing in him an intoxicating blend of obedience, love, and arousal.

Placing one last kiss to the tip of his nose, you stand up despite the quiet protests that emanated from your beloved as you coax him onto the couch in his study.

“Come here, sweetheart… let me see you, pretty boy.”

A soft huff of amusement left you as you witnessed the tall man scramble to get up, uncharacteristically panting and stumbling over himself like a three-legged dog before finally coming to a halt in front of you.

“Where and how would you prefer me, ma’am?”

“On your back over my lap. But first, go ahead and take off your bottoms for me, love.”

You can’t help the soft giggle that escapes you as you watch Erwin’s hands tremble, wrenching so hard at the fabric of his pants and boxers that most would have thought they were burning him alive. You smiled amusedly as you caught Erwin subconsciously attempting to hide his (rather large) arousal with his hands, not missing the way his eyes followed your own as they went to remove your shirt and bra, nor missing the small whimper that left his throat once your breasts had been freed from their confines. It had always been a favorite action of his to smother himself in your chest when the sun set and he was free of the days intensive labor. As comedic as it was, you legitimately had to remind him to come up for air, lest he suffocate.

“All right, sweetheart. On my lap.”

“Yes, ma’am. Thank you, ma’am.”

Carefully, out of fear of accidentally hurting you, Erwin moved to lay his broad back over your thighs and felt himself subconsciously nuzzle against the pudgy, soft skin of your stomach. A keen left his throat as he felt your hand gently cradle the back of his head, your other smoothing over the expanse of his chest languidly as you took in the feeling of his muscled torso. In your eyes, Erwin was nothing short of a heavenly vision laid bare for you, fingers gently tracing over full pecs and quivering abs, paying no mind to the little aborted thrusts of his hips as you knew he was trying to be good for you. He always was.

“Ma’am, please… may I…”

Ocean eyes stared up at you pleadingly as a giggle came unbidden from your mouth. Erwin was always shy when it came to making requests of a sexual nature.

“May you please what, Erwin? Be a good boy for me and use your words like I taught you.”

“M-My apologies, ma’am. May I suck your breasts? Please?”

“Of course, honey~ Such a good boy for using your words…”

Gently stroking his hair, you move his head into proper position and immediately feel him latch on to your breast, rough hands gently cupping your chest and trying to pull you impossibly closer. Erwin’s eyes flutter closed as a small whimper of relief escapes him, his tongue hungrily lapping at your nipple and his cock twitching from where it lay on his belly; oozing a steady stream of precum and his tip a beautiful shade of red. You feel him gently palm at your chest, his hands caressing the skin and marveling at the way the pudgy tissue is hardly contained by his fingers

“So handsome for me, Erwin… I’m so proud to call you mine…”

Opening his eyes to look at you, Erwin felt tears swiftly collect on his waterline and overflow en mass down his cheeks. He wanted to say that he was the lucky one, that he was so undeserving and unworthy of your love and touch after everything he had done and put others through… instead, all that comes out is a muffled sob as his sucking becomes more intense, the vibrations around your nipple pulling a small pleased hum from your throat. Moving your hand down, you softly scrape your nails through the dark honey colored hairs around his shaft and balls; relishing in the little buck of his hips and the broken moan that reverberates against your skin.

“I can tell what you’re thinking you know… and I want you to know it’s not true. You are deserving of all I give you and you’re such a good boy, no matter your opinion. I love you, and nothing will ever change that.”

Another broken sob comes from your love followed by his neglected dick twitching pitifully against his muscled tummy, the appendage practically weeping for you like its owner; who searches to grab at your hand that’s resting under his head. Giving him a small smile, you adjust yourself so you can hold Erwin’s hand and keep him on your breast at the same time, relishing in the small sniffle of relief it pulls from him as his eyes flutter closed again despite the tears leaking out from behind his lids.

“Such a good boy, so, so, so good for me, Erwin…”

To emphasize your point, you allow your fingertips to gently trace up the underside of his shaft, feeling along the vein that runs from his tip to his sack. It’s pleasurable torture to Erwin, the touch so light and ticklish yet maddening stimulating that he can feel himself jump. Finally, you wrap your hand around his cock, beginning to stroke him at a languid pace and watching as his heavy thighs twitch. It’s obvious he’s trying to keep himself in line and stop his hips from humping into your hand like a puppy in heat, his fingers tightening around yours as his small cries are muffled by your breast.

“There we go… feels a lot better now, hm?~”

Opening his teary blue orbs and nodding his head, Erwin found himself lovingly looking deep into your eyes with blurry vision as his back arched in pleasure. His broad chest was positively heaving as your fingers spread rivers of his own precum against his overheated flesh to slick him up, making your movements seamless as lewd wet sounds filled the room to make his head spin in the best possible way.

Letting go of his cock and ignoring his broken whine, you run your hand lower to fondle his balls, feeling their weight in your palm as you give them a gentle squeeze.

“You’re doing so good letting me give you what you need, sweetheart. Always so pretty when you’re all fucked out…”

Chuckling softly at the frantic roll of his hips your praise got out of him, you give his balls one last squeeze before going back to stroking him, picking up the pace as Erwin’s toes curl, the pleasure making him feel as if he’s been electrocuted ten times over. More tears stream from his eyes, both of relief and of pure, ever reverent love. The kind of love that sears through his jagged edges and holds him together, the kind of love that encases his heart in a suit of gold, that keeps him going despite the odds and the despair that threatens to overtake him every day. The thought makes his cock feel like it’s about to burst, pulsing in your hand as he feels his muscles draw up and flex. As if reading his mind, your voice speaks in a soft murmur;

“Go ahead, love. I want you to cum for me.”

That was all it took. One last keen left his lips as his body spasmed, hips humping uncontrollably into the tight tunnel of your fist before waves of pleasure crashed into him so intensely he could have sworn he was drowning. Continuing to work him through his orgasm, you watch lovingly as hot, thick ropes of cum spill out of him so hard that it almost reaches his chest, the pearlescent liquid glimmering in the candlelight. Feeling his cock give a few more throbs as he drains his balls onto his tummy, you gently unwrap your hand from around him to rub soothing shapes on his thighs.

“You did so good for me tonight, Erwin… I’m so proud of you…”

Finally finding the willpower to pull his mouth away from your tits, Erwin gazes up at you with adoring eyes and murmurs lowly;

“Thank you, beloved… thank you for letting me be yours, thank you for loving me…”

Gingerly helping him sit up, you grab the towel you had brought with his dinner beforehand and start to wipe him up as he nuzzles into you, placing soft kisses against your skin as he leans into your shoulder.

It was here that he felt most safe, cradled in your arms like he was something precious. You were his sanctuary, the only place he truly felt he could be forgiven and cleansed of the blood that coated his conscious so thoroughly, and he would be damned if he didn’t submit himself to kneel at your altar as soon as the opportunity presented itself. This was where he belonged, this is where he sought solace. Here with you.

His most dearly beloved.

#erwin smith #sub aot #sub erwin smith #aot erwin #commander erwin #erwin smith x reader #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #Erwin Smith #aot smut #aot x reader #snk x reader #snk smut #erwin smith smut

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